#but where do you think we get our imports?

[anumberofhobbies]

Have a reference,

By Nina Metz | Chicago Tribune UPDATED: June 9, 2018 at 1:42 AM CST

The following is an edited conversation with Matzen about Stewart and “It’s a Wonderful Life,” which will also screen at Symphony Hall on Dec. 9-11 accompanied live by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra with the Chicago Symphony Chorus. ... Q: What was it like on set, since it sounds like Stewart was a reluctant participant? A: Capra had supreme confidence in this story. Stewart not so much, but he got on board with it. It was this sense of, “This is our last shot. Hollywood went on without us, we’re not getting any younger, and if this bombs after we’ve both been away for five years …” But if you watch that performance by Stewart, there was a lot of rage in it and it’s an on-the-edge performance because that’s what those guys were feeling — they were scared that this wasn’t going to work. That the audience wasn’t going to buy it. Donna Reed (playing Stewart’s wife in the film) is one of the eyewitnesses who said, “This was not a happy set.” These guys were very tense. They would go off and huddle say, “Should we try this? Should we try that?” And it proceeded that way for months. They started shooting at the beginning of ’46 and it was a long shoot, it went into June. It was a very expensive, exhaustive production. It cost $3 million to make the thing. Q: Was Stewart also on edge because he was still working through some of his PTSD? A: Oh, absolutely. At this point, he had just started to eat again. He always had a high metabolism and always had trouble digesting food, and during the war it got worse and worse. He himself said that the only thing he subsisted on was peanut butter and ice cream. He just hadn’t been able keep food down. Now he’s starting to gain weight. But he’s still having nightmares and the shakes and the sweats. He’s got some hearing loss now, from the sound of the bombers on those seven-, eight-hour missions. So now you have an actor who, it’s not easy for him to hear his cues. Q: He wasn’t of the Method actor generation, but it sounds like he was, intentionally or not, drawing from his life in that performance, especially those scenes that reveal how untethered or frantic George Bailey is feeling. A: It was a personal and professional risk, playing that role. While he was making that film, he was questioning the superficiality of Hollywood and acting in general, and Lionel Barrymore (who plays Mr. Potter) said to him, “So, are you saying it’s more worthwhile to drop bombs on people than to entertain them?” And that really hit Stewart and was one of the things that turned him around and made him think, “OK, I do have an important role and there are things to be done.” There’s a scene in the movie where he questions his sanity and he’s got this wild look about him. That’s one scene that really struck me, watching it on the big screen. And the other scene that always made me uncomfortable, but now means so much more to me, is when he’s in his living room and he’s throwing things and screaming at his kids — and his wife and children look at him like, “Who is this man? Who is this monster?” And that is so reflective of what millions of families faced, looking at these strangers who came back from the war with this rage. Stewart played it beautifully. He just lets it out.

Jimmy Stewart & Post-Traumatic Stress: Months after winning his 1941 Academy Award for best actor in “The Philadelphia Story,” Jimmy Stewart, left Hollywood and joined the US Army. He was the first big-name movie star to enlist in World War II. An accomplished private pilot, the 33-year-old Hollywood icon became a US Army Air Force aviator, earning his 2nd Lieutenant commission in early 1942. With his celebrity status, he was assigned to attending rallies and training younger pilots. Stewart, however, wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to fly combat missions. By 1944, frustrated and feeling the war was passing him by, he asked his commanding officer to transfer him to a unit deploying to Europe. His request was reluctantly granted. Stewart, now a Captain, was sent to England, where he spent the next 18 months flying B-24 Liberator bombers over Germany. Top brass tried to keep the popular movie star from flying over enemy territory. But Stewart would hear nothing of it. Determined to lead by example, he assigned himself to every combat mission he could. By the end of the war he was one of the most respected and decorated pilots in his unit. But his wartime service came at a high personal price. In the final months of WWII he was grounded for being “flak happy,” today called Post Traumatic Stress (PTS). When he returned to the US in August 1945, Stewart was a changed man. He had lost so much weight that he looked sickly. He rarely slept, and when he did he had nightmares of planes exploding and men falling through the air screaming (in one mission alone his unit had lost 13 planes and 130 men, most of whom he knew personally). He was depressed, couldn’t focus, and refused to talk to anyone about his war experiences. His acting career was all but over. As one of Stewart’s biographers put it, “Every decision he made [during the war] was going to preserve life or cost lives. He took back to Hollywood all the stress that he had built up.” In 1946 he got his break. He took the role of George Bailey, the suicidal father in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Actors and crew of the set realized that in many of the disturbing scenes of George Bailey unraveling in front of his family, Stewart wasn’t acting. His PTSD was being captured on film for millions to see. But despite Stewart’s inner turmoil, making the movie was therapeutic for the combat veteran. He would go on to become one of the most accomplished and loved actors in American history. When asked in 1941 why he wanted to leave his acting career to fly combat missions over Nazi Germany, he said, “This country’s conscience is bigger than all the studios in Hollywood put together, and the time will come when we’ll have to fight.” This holiday season, as many of us watch the classic Christmas film, “It’s A Wonderful Life,” it’s also a fitting time to remember the sacrifices of those who gave up so much to serve their country during wartime.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Food in Fiction Writing

Often, we structure our days around food; a family meal, the office lunch break, dinner out with friends or maybe late-night instant ramen to get you through a deadline. But how do you include these moments in fiction writing? And what can you make this say about your characters?

Food as Habit

Giving your character eating habits and tastes can really flesh them out.

Try to think about where they eat, who with, and what?

Habits make our characters come alive, giving them the sort of real interior life that readers can identify with.

Make use of their tastes in moments of emotion – after a climactic moment, do they come home and relax by cooking, or try and escape to a fancy restaurant among friends – or do they not have the energy to eat at all?

Food is a great way to show character rather than telling.

Food as Subtext

Another great way food can show instead of telling is to use it in a conversation, when people are saying one thing but meaning another.

Often, when people argue, it starts off as a small problem – like burning the dinner, or what restaurant to choose.

Use food as a starting point in conversations when people are letting out their emotions through another meaning.

Let your characters debate their marriage through a restaurant without enough vegetarian options, or show someone’s romantic interest through appreciation of a badly cooked meal.

Food as Structure

You can show a lot about the order of a character’s life through when they eat.

Meals are a very everyday moment in your story that can provide order or disorder – if your character has to meet someone for lunch, obstacles preventing this can provide tension.

Eating is often entangled with a tight sense of time, so use this to your advantage.

Even small moments of tension and disorder can add a lot to your story.

Food as Sensation

Food invites rich and flavourful description.

All our senses are engaged while eating – not just sight and taste.

Think about how you can describe the intense smell of a curry, the way it feels as you chew it, the sizzling sound of the frying pan and the bubbling of the rice.

Create a rich sensory experience in your reader, maybe try and make them hungry.

A full-bodied description will make your scene come alive.

Food as Setting

Food is rich in cultural associations and tradition.

Do some research into where you are setting your story and explore what people there eat, when, and why – your character might be eating Sil (pickled herring) in midsummer, as is the tradition in Sweden, or celebrating Diwali with Besan Ladoo and other Indian sweets.

It is important to build a sense of specificity into the food.

But don’t fall into the trap of problematic food and cultural stereotypes – a character could just as easily be eating a burrito in Manchester as in Cancun, Mexico.

Food is often a shortcut to cultural understanding.

In the same way that literature connects stories with disparate readers, food itself acts as a vehicle for empathy in the communication between cultures and communities; both food and literature connect the self to the other in an act of empathy.

The act of eating is intimate, and hunger is vulnerable.

Picture your protagonist at her weakest, then give her a big plate of meaty spaghetti bolognaise, a Styrofoam tray of late-night cheesy chips, a ripe fresh peach, a hot bowl of Pho, or maybe an ice cream sundae.

At once, the writing will be enhanced simply for all of the rich sensory detail, and we will also see this character more clearly – she is given something physical, and a tension rises between the comfort of the food and the struggle of her situation, whatever it may be.

Stories thrive on tension and its release, and food is an incredible tool to either deflate or enhance that tension.

Food is inexorably connected to humanity, and so naturally plays a significant role in literature.

Food writing offers sensuality, symbolism, tension and empathy – for your readers and your characters alike. 

Even if you're not writing foodie fiction or lavish descriptions of every meal, you can still use food to help readers learn about your characters. For example:

A character you want to depict as adventurous might try unusual foods from their region, like crunchy grasshoppers or grubs for an American, or a character can show that they're stressed and busy by forgetting to eat or chowing down on prepackaged food because they don't have time to cook.

You can show readers a character's heritage or familial background by having them cook or remember beloved family recipes, or demonstrate that they're artistic by having them plate their food beautifully.

A tip for writing about food is to use all 5 senses in your descriptions to really help your reader see, smell, taste, feel, and even hear the food.

Try and avoid words that are general and can make it hard to envision something specific. Let's take an apple.

We could call it delicious and beautiful, but that doesn't help us understand the specifics of what it looks and tastes like.

But if we say that it's shiny red, that it smells fruity, tastes sweet but also puckeringly tart, and that your teeth crunch on its firm white flesh, you can almost envision it yourself.

Wine-tasting can help you find words for fleeting and elusive flavors.

Keep a book of adjectives that work well for flavors: salty, sour, sweet, sugary, sharp, spicy.

Smell is important too: vinegary, burnt, fishy, fruity.

Temperature may be a little easier: hot, warm, cool, cold, iced.

Texture: dry, slippery, hard, damp, nutty. And so on.

How to Describe Food in Writing ⚜ The Vocabulary of Wine

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[trainer-from-unova]

three is a crowd

𖤐 bandom blog: @princess-lvcifer 𖤐 english ao3 𖤐 spanish ao3 𖤐 edits 𖤐 kofi 𖤐

ship: geta/f!reader/caracalla

summary: where both emperors want to marry you, and they will

a/n: english isn't my first language

cw: none

word count: 1.1k

It was a calm sunny morning, there wasn't a cloud in sight in the sky and the birds were singing and flying back and forth over the trees of the villa. A young girl was sitting on a bench, quietly embroidering when her mother's voice at the other end of the inner courtyard caught her attention, causing her to look away from her handiwork and crane her neck to turn in her direction.

She was far enough away that she couldn't quite hear what she was saying, but she knew she wasn't talking to herself — beside her and looking in her direction were two men, one taller than the other but both with red hair. And although she hadn't (yet) had the (bad) luck to see them many times, she would recognise them everywhere. How could she not? Her eyes widened like plates and she turned almost without thinking, craning her neck again but pinning her gaze to the ground, processing the moment. Still staring at the ground she could feel their eyes on her, and for a second she froze. It didn't take much intelligence to know what they were doing there — she was one of the most powerful women in all of Rome and therefore desired by many suitors behind her, but she never thought she would attract the attention of the emperors.

She remembered what the streets had been saying about them lately: that they were moving heaven and earth to change the marriage law and marry both of them to the same woman. She remembered talking about the juicy gossip days before with her best friend, and joking that it was bad enough to have one husband you didn't love without having two, and more so if it was those two in particular. Were the gods mocking her for having mocked the poor wretch who had supposedly been the "lucky" one to have the favour of both of them days before? She knew they were out to get her and she also knew that, whether she liked it or not, she had to be obedient and polite, so she left her embroidery on the bench and crossed the courtyard to them, praying that the change in the law was only a rumour and that if she really had to marry it would only be to just one of the two.

"Emperors, it is a pleasure to see you again," she said kneeling subtly on her knees with a sweet but false smile on her lips. "Remember me?" She asked looking at both of them.

"How could we not?" asked Emperor Geta.

"The pleasure is all ours," said Emperor Caracalla, scanning her up and down with his typical playful, almost wicked look and smile. Emperor Geta simply grabbed one of her hands to kiss it, and the other was quick to do the same at the same time with the missing hand, creating a scene that would be comical were it not for the fact that she was co-starring with them in particular.

"To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?" She asked everyone present when they had finished greeting her, wanting to confirm her suspicions as soon as possible.

"We have come to make a proposal of marriage," reported Emperor Geta smiling in the same manner as his brother but more covertly.

Neither wanted to marry the young woman for love, for they hardly knew her nor to benefit from her brilliance, for they shone even brighter, but they wanted to do it so that no one else would. If she married an important senator with her nobility and blood, her new husband was likely to threaten their position. They simply wanted to prevent others from marrying her, but they had to share her benefits to be on the same level as each other and unfortunately they could not divide her in two for each of them, so they abused their power to change the law so that they could both marry her.

"Me?" she asked nervously.

"Who else?" asked Caracalla.

"My mother here is still well preserved in spite of her age, as you can see," she said pointing to her, making her blush and making all present laugh. "And may I know who my future husband will be?"

"Both," replied Emperor Geta.

"Both of you?" She looked at the two of them, surprised at the confirmation of the rumours and her earlier suspicions, and even more nervous and unable to stop herself from feigning a smile. She knew that if she married one she could not avoid being close to the other, but to be married to both at the same time was too much, and seemingly impossible. "Is that even possible?"

"Now it is," the taller one replied.

She was so surprised, nervous and confused that she couldn't think straight or formulate words, so not wanting it to ruin the moment and change the emperors' minds about the marriage proposal, her mother decided to intervene.

"My daughter is so happy that it's hard for her to speak."

"That's normal," said Caracalla.

"It's not every day that one is lucky enough to marry two emperors," said Geta looking smiling at his future wife, and as she felt his gaze on her, she couldn't help but stop dissociating and return his gaze.

Both made her nervous, but for different reasons; she felt that Geta saw right through her no matter how well she acted, and that Caracalla wasn't in his right mind. Not wanting to spend another second with them considering she would soon be living with them under the same roof, she decided to open her mouth to say:

"If you'll excuse me I'll leave, I'm so happy I'm feeling a bit unwell" and she wasn't partly lying, she did feel unwell and needed to leave.

After that everyone around her tried to cheer her up, saying that she was a lucky woman, that she would have more power and that she would go down in history as the first empress to marry two emperors at the same time, but that mattered little to her. The only thing that cheered her up was the idea that she would be left alone after becoming pregnant and having to rest so that the baby in her womb could be formed and born healthy, but then the question arose — who would be the father? As much as they wanted to share her, they couldn't both get her pregnant at the same time, and the first-born would rule the empire in the future. A part of her was looking forward to the wedding night to stop suffering from the nerves that ruled her body and mind even though she didn't want to live that moment.

a/n: And then on the wedding night they blindfold you and don't know who fucks you. The end. I wish I could write the smut but I can't and I swear I really really really tried but my personal life has been a mess lately.

[lvis44]

Cabin Fever - Pt. 3 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: A bit more drama for you guys tonight but this is nothing compared to what we've got coming up, oopsie lol. Hoping to get the next part out quickly so it kinda aligns with the holidays in real time! I would also formally like to start an important conversation about why the hell this man only seems to own winter jackets the color of a highlighter (im sure it's for safety when snowboarding but pls). I love you all and I'm so happy you guys are enjoying our angsty little Christmas fic!

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

**italics are a jump back in time**

The moment you make your way downstairs the next morning you are ready to turn and run back up to your room. You can hear everyone in the kitchen already, much to your surprise. Their voices are much louder than you would have wanted but you carry on, aware that the only way you’re getting coffee is by showing your face in there.

“Well good morning sleepy head! I was wondering when you’d show up.” Your dad greets you warmly.

“Hey I was up long before any of you yesterday.” You argue as he pulls you into a side hug.

“I do believe I was up before you.” Lewis pipes up with a smirk.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” You grumble, trying to conceal the roll of your eyes but when you meet Lewis’ gaze you know you’ve failed, “I need coffee, lots of it.”

Tom laughs from over at the coffee bar where he seems to be making himself some sort of fancy espresso, “Coming right up.”

You thank him, taking a seat next to your brother at the island, watching the chaos ensuing on the other side of the kitchen. Your mother, Beatrice, and Vanessa are in what seems to be party planning mode. They’re rummaging through cupboards and running back and forth to the fridge, Vanessa has a notebook out creating some sort of list, Beatrice is loudly reading some recipe from her phone.

“How long has this been going on?” You ask the men at the counter, trying to keep your voice low.

“About twenty minutes, they’ve probably got another twenty in them.” Lewis says, picking up his coffee and watching the scene himself.

You let out a deep breath, already exhausted by the amount of energy flowing through the room, praying you don’t somehow get sucked into it as well.

“Y/N, thank goodness you’re up!” Vanessa says excitedly, finally noticing your presence on one of her trips around the kitchen.

“Good Morning.” You respond softly, trying not to allow any chance of being roped into whatever is going on.

“So,” Vanessa's voice comes out chipper and matter of fact as she puts her palms down on the counter, evidently ready to give you the full run down, “I felt so bad yesterday, I had so many things planned for a fancy breakfast and the weather just had to ruin it all so I really want to make up for all of it today. Thank you again for pulling that off yesterday, I was so grateful, but I want a big fancy family brunch, we haven't had one in so so long and I’ve been thinking about it since I started planning this trip. And I don’t want it to be our Christmas morning brunch, I want it to be its own special moment, ya know?”

You can tell that your eyebrows have gotten higher on your forehead with every word that she has said, speaking faster than you could ever comprehend at the early hour. You hear your brother take a deep breath from next to you as Lewis chuckles lowly.

“I’m sure it will be wonderful, very talented ladies doing the cooking.” Tom tells his daughter before setting a delicious smelling cup of coffee down in front of you, “Here you go Y/N.”

“Thank you, it smells fantastic.” You say sincerely, happily wrapping your chilly hands around the warm cup.

“It better, I brought my own beans and everything. That should be the best cup of coffee you’ve had in your life.” He tells you proudly.

“It was a phenomenal cup of coffee.” Lewis says with an amused smile on his face, one that Tom seems to read as more genuine than you think it really is.

“Very good, very very good.” Dylan is quickly agreeing.

“Now listen,” Vanessa’s voice is quick to grab your attention again, “you did such an amazing job yesterday with breakfast and then helping with all the storm cleanup,”

Before she can finish Lewis lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff, cutting her off, “I don’t know if I would call whatever she was doing yesterday helping.” His voice is muffled by the rim of his coffee mug but you can hear the cheek to his voice, more teasing than the jabby tone it usually carries for you, you assume it's because of the current company.

You open your mouth to defend yourself but your brother is joining in quickly, “I mean she made a valiant effort but I do think I have to agree with Lewis on this one.” He’s laughing as he pinches at your side.

You try to find the right words to argue your defense but you realize you really can’t, thinking back to your ways of helping the day before. 

You had started strong, initially heading out after breakfast to try to clean up all the branches that had been blown into the yard, that lasted for only twenty minutes before Lewis and Dylan were getting the plow and skidoo out of the garage. Once the big toys were out you had no more interest in your handheld rake and shovel. You had gone over to inspect the new fun equipment but were quickly shooed away by both Lewis and your brother, both claiming you were going to get in the way and possibly end up hurting yourself. You had accepted defeat, heading back to your sad pile of branches before once again getting quite distracted by the fun sound of the engine on the skidoo. You had done your best to act as if you were still working but you had ended up watching Lewis zip around the yard for much longer than you would have liked to admit. There was something about his level of both control and chaos behind the handlebars that scratched your brain just right and it irked you and brought you immense satisfaction all at once. Once your brother had gotten into the swing of plowing, Lewis following him down the hill to keep Vanessa's mind at ease, you had gotten back to your sad attempt at branch removal, by the time they made it back up to the house you were collecting your armful. 

“Y/N you do know that it’s been a full hour and you don’t even have enough sticks to make a mouse a campfire, right?” Lewis had taunted you when he saw you walking across the driveway as he removed his goggles, your brother laughing as he hopped out of the plow.

“Oh fuck off, at least I was doing something, you were just joyriding.” You said sassily, quickly changing course so you weren’t walking directly past him.

“I,” He started, his voice long and drawn out to dramatically make his point, “was keeping your brother safe. The buddy system is very important, you know.”

“A knight in shining,” You started to say but before you could get the whole sentence out you were falling flat on your ass, your abysmal stick pile flying everywhere.

“Woah Y/N, shit you alright?” Your brother was quick to react, leaving his open truck door to run over to you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Lewis huffed out, also quickly making his way over to you.

They had both been there within an instant, squatting next to you to make sure you were alright. Your brother was handling you like fine china even though he could tell you were okay, Lewis however was immediately giving you shit.

“You do realize we’ve been here for like twelve hours and this is the second time you’ve fallen in front of me, right?” The tone of his voice was unamused despite offering you his hand to help pull you up.

“I did not fall last night.” You had tried to defend yourself as he got you to your feet, your brother still giving you a worried look like he thought you had secretly broken something.

“Because I caught you.” He had quickly pointed out.

“Whatever.” You grumbled as you bent down to collect your stick pile, admittedly leaving a good half of them behind before once again heading toward your brother's brush pile off by the shed. Before you could even make it half way, a very well aimed snowball was colliding with your ass cheek, once again knocking the sticks out of your arms. 

“I am going to fucking kill you.’ You had exclaimed loudly, quickly gathering a large armload of snow to form into your own snowball before turning around and whipping it in their direction. You ended up hitting your brother, immediately feeling a little bad because you assumed it had come from Lewis in the first place. Lewis let out a cackle when the snowball hit your brother, evidently pleased that he hadn’t been the one to get in trouble.

“Oh hell no, that was meant for you.” Dylan had said, also laughing but incredibly serious, his own snowball already being packed tightly to whip at Lewis. Much to your pleasure, Dylan was much closer to Lewis and was much stronger than you so you could tell the impact didn’t feel amazing when it finally slapped into his chest.

“I just thought you should put some ice on it after that fall, I was trying to be helpful.” Lewis laughed as he put his arms up to guard himself from any further snowballs being sent his way. You and your brother exchanged a look, both of you loading up again, hurling snow in Lewis’ direction.

He screamed as he turned to run, his snow gear making him much less agile than he would normally be. He had finally found steady footing, his own snowballs being sent in both of your directions, all three of you in a fit of laughter. Somewhere along the line your alliance with your brother had crumbled, his snowballs being sent your way as well, no longer reserved for just Lewis. By the time you finally called truce you had all been absolutely soaked, your stomachs hurting from laughing so hard and your pile of sticks long forgotten. When you made your way back to the house you had found yourself very surprised at how playful and fun that time with Lewis had been but you decided that it must have been a bit of a fluke, knowing it wouldn’t last the rest of the day.

You try to think of a way to argue your defense but you have to admit to yourself that you really can’t, you truthfully didn’t do any actual storm cleanup yesterday.

“It’s the thought that counts, I tried.” You grumble into your mug as the two men laugh.

“Well, either way, you absolutely slayed it with breakfast and putting up with them,” Vanessa gives you a smirk, trying to take away their ammunition, “so I want you to just relax this morning, Moms and I will take care of all things brunch, you just enjoy the pretty scenery and your amazing coffee.”

You smile at her, mouthing a thank you, grateful that you are not expected to be part of the brunch circus that is unfolding in the kitchen before you. Your mother and Beatrice are still frantically figuring out if they have everything for some recipe that they have selected. You sit back, watching as Vanessa returns to her chaos with your mothers, seeming weirdly at home within it. Tom and your father begin loudly discussing just where Tom is sourcing his coffee beans, raising the volume of the kitchen just that much more. You go to turn to your brother, only to find him standing from his seat to rinse out his coffee cup. Lewis is grabbing his phone and eagerly taking a call, leaving the room rapidly. You let out a sigh, choosing to make your way into the den with your coffee, hoping for some level of peace in there. The room is cozy, a fire already going and a light snow falling outside the large windows. You try to settle into one of the plush couches but as you sit there you feel yourself growing more and more aggravated. On one side you can hear your family in the kitchen, all talking loudly about different subjects that don’t even meld together into anything coherent, on the other side you can hear Lewis’ muffled voice on the phone. You can’t actually make out anything that he’s speaking about but the low timbre is enough to be disruptive. You find it hard to believe that in a house of this size you can’t find any silence, yet here you are, you shouldn’t be shocked with it being your family. You decide you can only take so much and come to the conclusion that you would rather be out in the cold and quiet than in here with the chatter. You take your coffee and head off to the foyer to find your winter gear to bundle up, the better idea of just going to your room nowhere to be seen in your head. You get as cozy as possible, grabbing a blanket out of the den before heading back to the kitchen.

“I think I’m just gonna go sit out back for a little while and appreciate the view while I have my coffee.” You awkwardly announce as you make your way to the backdoor, raising your blanket in your hand as you do.

“That sounds absolutely lovely, enjoy yourself!” Beatrice exclaims, overly enthusiastic about your plans.

When you first step out of the house you begin to question your plans, the cold air immediately hitting your face and wrapping you in an unforgiving cocoon, but the moment the door closes behind you, you’re at peace. The door seals your family and their loud chatter away wonderfully, just the gentle howl of the wind and small noises of things falling in the forest left to be heard. You make your way across the covered deck, settling into one of the luxurious outdoor couches overlooking the large backyard and forest. You snuggle as far as possible into your blanket, trying to keep as much of your body heat as possible. You can feel a deep sigh leave your body as you take in your surroundings, admitting to yourself that as much as you hate winter, you do love the beauty of the blanketing of snow. You sit in silence for a while, just sipping your coffee and enjoying the peaceful way the world is waking up, the snow falling gently. It sadly doesn’t take long for your silence to be interrupted, the door opening behind you. You let out a huff when you see who is making their way outdoors.

“Ocupado.” You say sassily as you turn your attention back out to the view in front of you.

Lewis just scoffs, making his way over to sit on one of the couches near you.

“Seriously, I just need some silence. Do you have nowhere else to go?” You groan childishly, seeing him settling into his seat.

“I let you get warm in front of my fire yesterday, I think you can share the silence of your deck with me now.” He says, his voice just as sassy.

You go to argue with him, wanting to tell him that it’s not the same and his fire was in the den, a common area, but you quickly realize that this too is a common area that you have no monopoly over. You decide to bite your tongue, rolling your eyes as he settles deeper into the couch, pulling his phone out. You decide to do the same, feeling awkward staring into the trees now that you have company. It doesn’t take long before the first post from a friend is popping up on your feed. She is back in California, a small party dress on that would have you getting hypothermia here. The post is about a party that you had known would be happening, a fun Christmas get together with a bunch of your friends that you would have loved to have been at, carefree and ridiculous fun. You let out a huff as you scroll through her post, the fomo eating you alive as you do so.

“Thought you wanted silence.” Lewis grumbles from his spot at the sound of your huff, his voice already laced with annoyance. 

“So sorry to disturb you, your highness.” You fire back at him sarcastically.

“It’s just sir, I’m a knight, not technically royalty.” He replies, his voice so cocky that it makes you want to smack him, only stopping when you see the slightly teasing smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes again, not even having the energy to come up with something witty to say back to him in the moment.

“Seriously though, what’s got you in such a mood?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious, much to your surprise. 

“I’m not in a mood.” You mutter, burrowing further into your blanket, your attention back on your phone.

He lets out a chuckle at your response, “Yeah the huffing and puffing really sells that narrative well.”

“Oh shut up, you know I don’t particularly want to be here, just let it go.” You say quietly, not wanting your family to hear your disdain for your surroundings.

“I know, and me being here probably isn’t helping that, but it seemed like there was something else going on. Thought you saw something that was upsetting you.” He says casually, shrugging like it’s a normal conversation for the two of you to be having.

You’re taken aback by his casual and genuinely curious nature, not being used to anything like this from Lewis. It takes your guard down, quicker than it should. You let out a sigh, deciding, against your better judgement, to confide in him a little bit. You know he could come back with some level of snippy remark but you were prepared for that, maybe he would actually have a normal conversation with you for once. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but seeing everyone enjoying their lives as adults and doing what they want, where they want, I don’t know, it’s just driving me a bit insane.” You divulge, not getting your point across in quite the way you meant to.

He raises an eyebrow at you, evidently rather confused by what you mean, “I mean, you’re an adult, you spend 99% of the year doing what you want, where you want. What’s the problem?”

You just shake your head, deciding to instead show him the post that caused the initial huff. You watch as his brows furrow while he scrolls through the instagram post you handed him. Quickly his face turns from curious to judgemental. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he finally hands you your phone back.

“So you’d rather be back in the smog of LA where you can’t even tell it’s Christmas, dressed in a skimpy dress with your friends? You’d prefer that to fresh mountain air, a white Christmas, and your family that loves you?” His tone is belittling as he reads the situation completely incorrectly, his questions coming out more as statements, as if nothing that you say now will change his mind.

Your jaw drops at the accusation, a loud scoff leaving your throat as you snatch your phone back from him, “How dare you, that was not the point I was trying to make.” You begin to argue before he’s cutting you off.

“You see those people all the time Y/N, how often do you see any of your family?” He raises his brow in challenge but doesn’t give you time to formulate a response before he’s carrying on, “We all know you don’t want to be here, just suck it up, a little bit of winter mountain air and family time isn’t going to kill you.” He doesn’t wait for a rebuttal, he just stands from his seat as if he’s just finished reprimanding a child and walks away, back inside.

He leaves you in your seat, silent and fuming but also leaving you feeling a tad guilty. He is correct, you don’t want to be here, but it has nothing to do with you preferring to be out in a skimpy dress in LA, it’s about your freedom. Having the freedom to do as you please and be where you want, something you haven’t had a ton of in your life. You hate that everyone knows that you would prefer to be somewhere else, making you feel as if you’re almost a burden. You hate that Lewis feels that he has the right to make such deep assumptions about you and treat them as fact and you hate even more that he feels he has the right to lecture you based on those assumptions. 

You end up staying out on the back deck much longer than you had originally planned, only finally making your way back indoors when Vanessa announces that brunch is served. You do your best to ignore him, not even looking in his direction. Instead you spend most of brunch quizzing Vanessa on things about her brunch that in all honesty you aren’t particularly interested in, but listening to Vanessa explain how he gets her eggs to fluffy is much better than having to even think about dealing with the man sitting at the other end of the table.

It irks you that you can hear him chatting so freely and happily down the table, as if he hadn’t accosted you on the porch mere hours beforehand. You find yourself already making a plan for escape before you’ve even cleared your plate.

Avoiding him throughout the rest of the day ends up being shockingly easy. You take an extra long time getting ready before helping Vanessa and your mom with some last minute gift wrapping. You can’t help but laugh when you see that Vanessa's “last minute stuff” actually appears to be a majority of her gifts, but you don’t complain, knowing it will take up more of your time, and in turn help in your game of avoidance. You can hear Lewis chatting off in the distance, your father quizzing him eagerly on his car collection after hearing he added something new. Lewis gushed with ease, thoroughly entertaining your fathers questions and while it could be considered a nice conversation you felt like it sounded arrogant, flashy. 

“Boys and their toys.” Your mom muttered with a laugh, also listening to bits of the conversation, your father now seemingly showing Lewis photos of a car he had back in the nineties.

“Tell me about it, I couldn’t for the life of me get Dylan out of that plow truck when we first bought it and the snow hadn’t even fallen yet.” Vanessa exclaims, shaking her head.

You just laugh as you lean back to stare out the window for a moment, admiring the way the world is beginning to turn blue as the sun goes down. As if he’s noticed it getting dark at the very same moment, Dylan is bursting into the room talking about Christmas lights.

“Get out, we are not finished in here Mr.” Vanessa is quickly squealing, throwing her body in front of the few remaining unwrapped gifts.

“Okay, okay,” Dylan laughs, throwing his hand over his eyes before continuing, “What I was saying is the lights in the forest look like they stayed up through the storm! It’s getting dark so I was hoping we could all take a walk out there, it’ll be beautiful.”

“That sounds nice Dyl, give us just a little time to get ready.” You say softly, eager to see the lights that have your brother so excited.

“Sweet, I’ll go let the guys know.” He says like a little kid, whipping around to go inform them of the new plans.

“He made an absolute wonderland out there, you guys are going to love it.” Vanessa says, already standing up to collect the remaining wrapping paper, shoving things away like she’s now on a time crunch.

You take that as your sign to go change and get ready for a winter walk. When you go to head upstairs you finally cross paths with Lewis who seems to be headed to his own room, you pause for a moment before flicking your gaze away and trying to move past him.

“Joining us on the walk?” He asks, his voice cold, sounding like he’s expectant of a no.

“Uh, yeah, of course.” You waver slightly, caught off guard that he had any words for you at all. You wished your voice had come out stronger, not wanting him to feel like he had any sort of upperhand, that he had gotten under your skin.

He does actually look surprised, his eyebrows twitching up in a certain judgemental look of disbelief before he is once again turning on his heel. He doesn’t say a word, just walks away to his bedroom.

When you make your way back downstairs, everyone is there and waiting. Dylan is animatedly explaining how he set up with power for the lights and how they follow all of the groomed paths in a certain pattern. Once he notices that you’re there he is directing everyone to follow him to the back yard, still explaining his tree lighting process on the way. You can’t help the grimace that leaves your body when you step outside, the temperature having dropped drastically since you were out here earlier. You try to just burrow further into your coat, not wanting to complain after being made so aware of your attitude earlier today.

As you wander the paths you find yourself mesmerized, Vanessa was right about the absolute wonderland of it all. The glittery lights look like stars, spanning higher up trees than you would like to think about your brother being, but regardless they are breathtaking. You find yourself falling away from the group a bit, too caught up in admiring the gorgeous trees and trying to keep as much of your warmth in as possible. Your family carries on walking, unaware of your sudden slow pace, Lewis however seems to notice and slows down himself. So much that you almost trip over him, having been blissfully unaware of his presence.

“You okay?” He asks you when you’re steady on your feet.

“I’m just fine Lewis.” Your voice is as cold as the outdoor air as you avoid looking in his direction.

“Well, from where I’m standing, you’re shaking like a leaf.” His tone has lost its earlier harshness but still carries that bit of arrogance as you catch him smirking at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Just wore the wrong jacket, I’ll be fine.” You argue, keeping your voice short but still pulling your thin jacket tighter. You're mentally cursing yourself for not having worn your puffer.

“Do you want to head back? I’ll walk with you.” His offer catches you off guard, his voice sincere and almost kind as he continues to stare at you, the smirk gone.

“I’m fine,” You say yet again, your voice slightly quieter now, “Dylan worked hard on this, I’ll survive.”

Just as you once again reiterate your argument a gust of wind comes through, picking up the loose snow and blowing it around you sending yet another chill directly down your spine. Lewis evidently notices the cold seeping deeper into your bones, taking it upon himself to make the decision. 

“Y/N and I are gonna head back to the house, she’s getting a little too cold, gonna get her something warm, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” He yells ahead to your family against your will. 

“Oh, hun, are you okay?” Your mother is immediately concerned.

“I’m fine, I’m not going back.” You start to insist but Lewis is stepping in yet again.

“She’s fine, just wore the wrong jacket. The lights look amazing Dylan, well come see them when she’s warmed up.” Before you can say anything he’s starting to usher you back down the path, Dylan is thanking him and Vanessa is telling you where to find more blankets. 

Lewis is guiding you down the path, his body close against your back and his grip firm on your waist as if you don’t know the way. You hate the way he is manhandling you but you have to admit you are relishing in the warmth coming from the proximity. You don’t allow it to go on for too long, wrenching yourself out of his grip once you’re far enough away from your family. You pick up your pace, both in a show of defiance and actually quite wanting to get back to the warmth of the house. You hear him let out a scoff behind you as you throw your little tantrum.

The heat of the house is immediately welcoming, wrapping around you like a hug the moment you open the door. You take a moment to let the heat sink into your bones before even moving to remove your jacket. Lewis stands there watching you for a moment, just shaking his head before taking off his own large puffer.

“What?” You groan, assuming he has a comment to make.

“You know sub zero temps usually require a little more than a flimsy fashion jacket from the mall, right?” His voice is laced with judgement again, the kindness from the forest long gone.

“Oh, would you just fuck off!” You finally properly snap, whipping your head to face him.

““I’m just saying you’re a grown adult and you’re acting like winter is gonna kill you, you can’t even prepare for it” His response is quick, his tone just as snippy as yours, dripping with arrogance.

“I have a fucking parka in my room, I didn’t know how cold it was.” You throw back at him.

“Mmm sure, or you just wanted to look good for the little walk.” He accuses you, his tone condescending.

“Look good for who? I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere!” You fully yell at him, finally done with his jabs.

He ignores the question, his voice raising but not yet actually yelling, “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s good for you to be in the middle of nowhere once in a while?”

“I do not need some asshole who doesn’t even know me giving me fucking life advice, thank you very much.” You snap, no longer yelling but your voice is harsh.

“Well maybe you do because from where I’m standing you would rather be back in LA partying with your friends to post on Instagram than at your brother's beautiful new house with your whole family that loves you. They fucking want you here and you get to fucking see them, stop acting like its pulling fucking teeth for you to be here.” He actually yells this time, momentarily stunning you.

“Why do you even fucking care so much?” You just about scream, praying that your family is still far away from the house. The two of you haven’t even made it out of the foyer yet.

He just stares at you, his eyes hard and his chest heaving slightly. He opens his mouth before quickly snapping it shut, finally letting out a long, deep sigh. “Ya know what, I guess I fucking don’t. Go take a hot shower before you get fucking hypothermia.” He finally mutters harshly as he storms out of the room, his bedroom door slamming shut not long after.

You stand in the foyer, staring down the hallway where he disappeared, still dressed in your winter jacket. You can feel the tears pricking in the back of your eyes, immediately pissing you off that they can be caused by even Lewis. You bite lips, willing the tears to stop, but then you realize, there it is.

It finally feels like Christmas.

[anndramarama]

I can speak to this as a teacher who tries to train my middle school students to write to us semi-professionally. We try to prepare them to write to strangers, prospective employers, admin at different schools, or even just send semi-polite messages to each other, and it is not easy to do!

They don't like to capitalize, not even the first and last letters of their own names, and then trying to get to an understanding of how/why we should be polite when writing to strangers is another hurdle, but most of them get there in the end and are able to use the simple format above -- greeting, body, closing, signature -- with a little practice.

I'm a stickler about capitalization and I explain it like this: capitalization, especially in names, shows respect to the recipient, and using capitals in your own name shows that you respect yourself and take the interaction seriously.

That response above about a full paragraph in the subject line is something I see every year without fail, by the way, and it's frustrating. I tell them that the subject line shouldn't be blank, and to think of the subject as the title of their message. It should be short and sweet, 3-4 words maximum.

My students are young kids who just don't have experience with email even if they text or use snapchat or other social media, and I find that providing as must context as possible, along with multiple examples of how an email should look and what they should avoid, does help, but it's important for them to be able to practice this skill before they have to do it for real and inevitably fail in a setting where there are negative consequences for failure.

Very much agree that saying "just do it, it's not hard" is not going to help anyone regardless of age if they don't have experience sending professional email, or if email isn't accessible to them without modifications.

Keeping in mind that we use gmail, here are some things that help my students:

Exemplars as above

Speech-to-text as an option, especially for longer messages

Text-to-speech to listen to a message before sending

Practice using sentence frames for message body *and* subject line

Set up a signature (kids like this part)

Set up message templates (same function as sentence frames)

Use additional in-browser assistive tech like Read&Write (not free but many organizations, including schools, either subscribe to it or will pay for it if you ask)

For teachers: have your students send you a correctly formatted email as an exit ticket occasionally. The first few times I do this, and I don't do it too often, I make it easier by sending the class a message and their reply has to answer a question (single complete sentence with correct spelling and punctuation) *and* their reply must be formatted as a professional email. Later they have to compose a message/exit ticket and I reply. I've had them write to their elementary school teachers with me cc'd and that's a fun activity too, and they can observe how we (the teachers) reply to each other as part of a thread, which provides more and varied examples of correct formatting in context.

I try to make it fun for kids because they're bored by this stuff, and sometimes I lose them if they know they have to write a single sentence, but it always gets better with practice. It's also important to note that following some formatting rules makes our communication more accessible too.

not to sound like a boomer, but I need some people to learn how to write emails in a semi-professional (at the very least) format so you're not cold emailing a business/potential employer/any other stranger about formal matters in the exact same way you'd DM a close friend on instagram

the formality/language can loosen up in the email chain once you've established a rapport and you match the other person if they're being less formal, but please don't have the very first email you send a stranger be written in all lowercase ultra-casual sms slang with no greeting or signature and a billion emojis

[honeytonedhottie]

decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

[pubbamoon]

North Node (Rahu) & South Node (Ketu)

Hello guys! Nice to see you again. This post is going to be all about North Node (Rahu) and South Node (Ketu). I'm about to describe the meaning of the Nodes from both traditional tropical/Hellenistic astrology and from sidereal/Vedic astrology. You're going to learn what the Nodes mean, where the meaning came from and how to interpret them in your birth chart. So, without further delay, let's get straight into the topic!

Before I actually get into this topic, I just want to clarify something. You've probably heard that the North Node in astrology represents our life path, purpose, mission and what we are supposed to do, while South Node in astrology represents our past life, karma from our past life and what we should let go of. That's not what they are about and it's a common misconception about astrology. This meaning comes from modern tropical astrology, which tells us more about our personality and individual life purpose. I already said a lot of times about the misconceptions from modern astrology, so I won't repeat myself over and over again.

The Nodes are actually about imbalances in our life. In traditional tropical/Hellenistic astrology, the North Node represents the area of our life which increases in our life, while the South Node represents the area of our life which decreases in our life, for better or for worse. North Node also represents the area where there's too much going on in our life, while South Node represents the area where there's lack of something. I used to think that we need to balance the energies of North Node and South Node, but I've realized afterwards that this is likely impossible. Like I said, the Nodes actually describe the imbalances in our life. The meanings of the Nodes in Hellenistic astrology came from astronomy, by the way.

In sidereal/Vedic astrology, the Nodes have a way more different meanings, which came from mythology, by the way. In Vedic astrology, North Node is called Rahu and South Node is called Ketu. Rahu (North Node) is a head without a body which represents attachment, material world, our desires we want to achieve so bad and the area of our life where we're never satisfied about and which we want more and more. On the other hand, Ketu (South Node) is a body without a head which represents detachment, spirituality, the area of our life where we detach from and which we don't care that much about.

The best way to interpret the Nodes is to look at the house they sit. So, here's what the Nodes mean in houses. Keep in mind that I use Whole Sign system to interpret the houses in astrology.

1st house NN (Rahu) / 7th house SN (Ketu):

The 1st house represents you, self, your personality and who you are, while the 7th house represents other people around you and your partner. Having the North Node (Rahu) in the 1st house could mean that there's a strong focus on you and your independence in your life. You might favor yourself over the other people. The South Node (Ketu) in your 7th house might indicate that the other people in your life might not play an important role in your life. You may detach from the people around you as well. And this can be good if you don't have a need to change everything or if you want independence in your life. However, if you've been single for years and want to get in the romantic relationship, then that's the problem.

2nd house NN (Rahu) / 8th house SN (Ketu):

These are both houses of ownership. The 2nd house represents something that you own, while the 8th house represents something that other people around you own. It's mostly about money and financial matters when it comes to these two houses. The North Node (Rahu) in your 2nd house may indicate your own money and resources increase in your life, while the South Node (Ketu) in the 8th house might indicate that other people's money, resources and debt decrease in your life, which is a good thing. Having more your own money and less debt is always a good thing, so you don't need to change anything about that.

3rd house NN (Rahu) / 9th house SN (Ketu):

The 3rd house represents your siblings, your best friend (BFF) and seeking spirituality within yourself, while the 9th house represents voyages, religion, wisdom, education and seeking spirituality beyond yourself. The North Node (Rahu) in the 3rd house indicates that you might have a strong inclination towards spirituality which is unfamiliar to many people, such as witchcraft, Tarot, Wicca, palm readings etc. This placement can also tell that your siblings might play an important role in your life. The South Node (Ketu) in the 9th house indicates that you might not be into higher education, religion (such as Christianity, Islam, Buddhism etc.) and you may not tolerate other people's opinions. You might not have a tendency to look outside for the answers because you might think that every answer is within yourself.

4th house NN (Rahu) / 10th house SN (Ketu):

The 4th house represents your home, private life, parents and comfort, while the 10th house represents your career, professional life, reputation and public image. Traditionally, the 4th house represents your father, while the 10th house represents your mother. The North Node (Rahu) in the 4th house signifies that you might focus more on creating your own family than your career and making a name for yourself. You might not care what other people think about you, but you might care what people close to you think about you. The South Node (Ketu) in the 10th house signifies that you're not interested for your career path and in creating your public image. When it comes to your parents, with this placement, you might spend more time with your father, while your relationships with your mother might be more detached.

5th house NN (Rahu) / 11th house SN (Ketu):

The 5th house represents good fortune, good things that happen in your life and everything that improves your well being, such as wealth, children and well environment. Having the North Node (Rahu) in the 5th house means that you might be someone whose focus is on creating some kind of wealth in your life. You might aggressively gravitate a path of having a huge amount of money or you might be very focused on everything that improves your health. Children may also play a significant role in your life. The 11th house represents good spirit and the the area of our life which improves our mind, such as friends, community, gains etc. With the South Node (Ketu) in the 11th house, that area of your life may not be strong in your life, which means that you don't have any friends. This might be the problem if you feel lonely and you want to make some friends.

6th house NN (Rahu) / 12th house SN (Ketu):

Both of these house are about afflictions. The 6th house represents everything that afflicts your body and well being, such as physical disease and slavery. If you have the North Node (Rahu) in the 6th house, the things that might play a huge role in your life are physical diseases and doing something in your life you possibly don't want to do. The 12th house represents everything that afflicts your mind, such as depression, isolation, loneliness and other mental health issues. Having the South Node (Ketu) in the 12th house could mean that the mental health issues might not be that much significant and you might not struggle that much with mental issues, which might be a good thing. However, you may struggle more with physical diseases in your life.

7th house NN (Rahu) / 1st house SN (Ketu):

Like I previously said, the 7th house represents other people around you, while the 1st house represents yourself, your personality and everything about you. With the North Node (Rahu) in the 7th house, other people around you might play a huge role in your life. You might always be with someone, whether it's your partner, friend or someone else. With the South Node (Ketu) in the 1st house, you might neglect yourself in general. Building your independence up is not something you strive for. If you feel more comfortable with the people around you than being on your own, that's a good thing. However, if you want to become more independent in your life, then that could be problem.

8th house NN (Rahu) / 2nd house SN (Ketu):

Again, as I mentioned before, the 8th house represents other people's money, their resources, inheritance, and something that other people around you own. Having the North Node (Rahu) in the 8th house could indicate that debts and loans might be increased in your life. Other people might help you financially, which might be a good thing. There's also a possibility for you to inherit someone else's money, especially after the death of that person. On the other hand, the 2nd house represents your money, your resources and something that you own. With the South Node (Ketu) in the 2nd house, you might feel that your own money and resources are limited, which might be the problem if you want to make your own money for yourself.

9th house NN (Rahu) / 3rd house SN (Ketu):

These two houses have several meanings, but I'm going to use them as the houses of spirituality. The 9th house represents seeking spirituality beyond yourself, while the 3rd house represents seeking spirituality within yourself. The North Node (Rahu) in your 9th house can mean that you might actively seek answers outside of you. You tend to be philosophical with this placement. Higher education and religion, whether it's Christianity, Islam or Judaism, might play a significant role in your life. This placement could make someone a religious fanatic too. The South Node (Ketu) in the 3rd house means that you might not search for inner truth, as much as you might search for universal truth. Relationship with your siblings might be neglected too or you might not have any siblings with this placement.

10th house NN (Rahu) / 4th house SN (Ketu):

The 10th house represents your career, professional life, reputation and your mother, while the 4th house represents your home, private life and parents, but specifically your father. Having the North Node (Rahu) in the 10th house can indicate that you might actively gravitate towards building your career path and making a name for yourself. Reputation and how other people see you might be very important to you. Having the South Node (Ketu) in your 4th house could signify that your relationships with your parents and the people close to you might be detached. You might not have a clear sense of home and comfort or family may not be very important to you. You may likely spend more time with your mother than with your father.

11th house NN (Rahu) / 5th house SN (Ketu):

Both of these houses are about the privileges and advantages in our life. The 11th house represents good spirit and everything that improves your mind, such as friends, community and gains. If you have the North Node (Rahu) in the 11th house, that likely means you may have a social life. You might have the people around you who will likely support your goals because they wanna see you succeed. On the other hand, the 5th house represents good fortune and everything that improves our well being, such as good health, children and wealth. Having the South Node (Ketu) in the 5th house could mean that the area of your life, such as children or wealth, might not be important in your life or these things may not make you happy. You might not have the children or you might not care that much about your health in this lifetime of yours.

12th house NN (Rahu) / 6th house SN (Ketu):

The 12th house represents everything that threatens your mind, such as depression, isolation and other mental health issues. With the North Node (Rahu) in the 12th house, depression and some mental health issues might increase in your life. You might feel that you're constantly isolated, struggling to find friends or any kind of community. The 6th house represents everything that threatens your well being and your health, such as physical diseases, injuries or car accident. With the South Node (Ketu) in the 6th house, I can tell that you might not struggle that much with physical diseases and injuries as much as you might struggle more with mental health issues in your life.

That would be everything for this post! This observation might be one of the longest ones of mine, but I really wanted to share interpretation of the Nodes for every house. Mind you that I use the Whole Sign system for houses again. I don't use Placidus at all. Comment what you think about this. Do you resonate with these interpretations? Maybe these placements of the Nodes are not active right now in your chart. You might experience the events of your natal Nodes every 9 years when there's an Eclipse or every 12 years when there's a profection year. I don't know. Nevermind, I hope you enjoyed while reading this observation. Thanks so much for your attention and support, I really appreciate that. Bye and see you next time!

Best regards,

Paky McGee

[ikkyfics]

Our Home

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: "Look, you’ll be able to have your favorite chair there," he said, pointing to a corner of the room next to the fireplace. "And I’ll flop down on the couch after a long day and..." He paused dramatically, spinning on his heels to look at you with a dreamy expression. "We’ll have the most comfortable couch in the world, of course. One that suits us."

Warnings: none

Part 4 of Marry Me

Masterlist

Since you decided to get married, your life had become a sequence of choices and preparations. It was an important step — maybe the most important — and although you weren’t exactly the type of person who planned a fairytale wedding, James made every moment light and unforgettable. After long weeks of searching for the perfect place for your future home, you both finally made a decision: a cozy house in Godric's Hollow. James had fallen in love with the village the moment he stepped foot there — "It’s historic, it’s charming, and there’s a bakery that smells like heaven right around the corner!" — but it was the small white house with wooden windows and the garden in front that won both of your hearts.

It was modest compared to other places he insisted on visiting — some so big you could get lost in a hallway — but there was something about this house. Something cozy, like it had been waiting for you both.

"I still can't believe we found it," you murmured, your eyes fixed on the house as you stood in the garden, hands intertwined, the late afternoon sun painting everything in golden hues.

"I knew it the moment you flashed that smile and started talking about décor." James looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes, the one he only had — intense and sweet, as if the world spun around him. "I would’ve bought any house where you could see the future."

You smiled, feeling your heart warm. "So it’s my fault we stopped here?"

"Totally," he teased, tilting his head and giving you that playful look as if he had already prepared a clever response. "But to be fair, I can kind of picture kids running through the living room. And you yelling at me for leaving toys scattered around."

"You? Leaving toys around? Never."

"I’ll be a great role model for our future heirs. I’ll teach them the art of the perfect organized mess."

You laughed, squeezing his hand before pulling him toward the house’s entrance. The old wooden floor creaked under your feet as you entered, but that only added to the charm of the place. James was clearly excited — he walked around the room with his hair even messier than usual, his glasses slipping down his nose as he pointed to every corner of the house as if showing you something you’d never seen before.

"Look, you’ll be able to have your favorite chair there," he said, pointing to a corner of the room next to the fireplace. "And I’ll flop down on the couch after a long day and..." He paused dramatically, spinning on his heels to look at you with a dreamy expression. "We’ll have the most comfortable couch in the world, of course. One that suits us."

"Do you only think about where you’ll flop, Potter?" you teased, crossing your arms and trying to hold back your laughter.

"Not just that," he said, stepping closer with a mischievous smile. He took your hands and placed them on his chest, leaning in just a little so your faces were close. "I also think about where you’ll pull me to kiss me in the middle of some silly argument about the color of the curtains."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t resist the smile. "That’s very specific."

"It’s my vision of the future," he retorted, as if it were obvious, before closing the gap with a quick, sweet kiss.

You laughed against his lips, and when you pulled away, you couldn’t help but look around the house again. In your mind, every room was already coming to life. You could picture plants scattered around the room, pictures of you and James on the walls, the kitchen smelling like coffee on Sunday mornings. It was simple, but it was perfect.

"I think I already know what we’ll do first," you murmured, looking at him.

James raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh yeah? Paint the walls? Change the bathroom floor?"

"No. We’re picking the couch."

The smile that spread across his face was so wide that it made you laugh once more. He spun you in the middle of the room, his arms firm around your waist as your laughter echoed through the empty house.

"You just earned a million points, future Mrs. Potter," he said when he finally stopped, looking at you with those bright blue eyes behind his glasses. "And speaking of which... have you noticed how 'Mrs. Potter' sounds so good? I mean, it sounds perfect."

"You really never get tired of being a goofy, lovesick fool, do you?"

"Not when the reason is you."

He pulled you closer, his nose brushing yours before kissing you again. Unlike the previous one, this kiss was slower, more tender, as if he wanted to convey everything he felt in silence. His hands moved to your face, his thumb caressing your cheek so gently that you felt your knees go a little weak.

When you finally pulled apart, he smiled contentedly, watching the way you looked at him — half lost, half too in love to speak.

"This house will never be the same after we set foot here," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours.

"I hope not," you answered softly. "Because now it’s going to be our home."

James pulled you close to his chest, his chin resting on top of your head for a few seconds, as if he wanted to memorize the moment. He pulled away just enough to look at you, a small but absolutely charming smile on his lips.

"Our home." He repeated the words, as if savoring them. "Do you have any idea how many plans I've already made for us here? And we just picked it."

"Oh, really? What are you planning, Mr. Potter?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly teasing.

He took your hand and began walking through the room, gesturing excitedly. "See that corner over there? Perfect for a bookshelf. A big one, full of books, so when you're reading and ignoring me. And over there, in front of the window, will be the softest sofa in the universe, because I know we'll spend hours tangled up on it. And the kitchen?" He turned, already pointing to the other side. "I can't cook, but I'm absolutely committed to making at least one decent dinner for you."

"A decent dinner? Sounds ambitious."

"Ambitious, but necessary," he shot back, pretending to be offended. "And if dinner's a disaster, you can always comfort me. Or laugh at me. I accept both options."

You couldn't hold back your laugh, shaking your head. "And where are you going to put the broom, huh, visionary? Thought about that?"

He stopped for a moment, pretending to ponder. "Hmm, good question. I think the broom will go in the bedroom. Or even better, on the balcony. We'll have a balcony, right? Because I kinda want to fly at night with you when the sky is full of stars."

"You really can't stop dreaming, can you?"

"Not when it’s about you," he replied without hesitation, his tone sincere enough to make your cheeks warm. "By the way, have you noticed this house has the perfect spot for a garden? I can picture you out there, messing with the plants, while I do absolutely nothing but admire you."

"You are completely impossible, James Potter."

"I know. And you love me for it," he said, with a mischievous grin that made your heart race.

Before you could respond, he pulled you back into the center of the room, his bright blue eyes fixed on yours. "Seriously, what do you think? How do you imagine all this? Tell me. I want to know exactly what will make you feel at home."

You hesitated for a moment, looking around. It wasn’t the house itself that made you dream; it was the idea of a future with James here. Still, you tried to imagine, and the words started flowing.

"I think I want a room with lots of light. Light curtains, you know? And a chair just for me, where I can read and maybe nap while you try not to wake me up."

"I'll fail miserably at that, but keep going," he said, smiling.

"In the kitchen... something simple. A place to have coffee together in the mornings, no rush. Maybe a little spot for plants, because you know I love that. And the bedroom…"

James tilted his head, pretending to be curious. "Ah, yes, the bedroom. Keep going, please. I'm very interested in this part."

"A comfortable bed, of course," you said, rolling your eyes. "And maybe a big window, so we can wake up to the sunlight. We don't need much, you know? Just enough for the two of us."

"You forgot the most important detail," he pointed out, his smile widening.

"Oh, really? And what would that be?"

"You," he said, stepping closer and holding your face with both hands. "You in every corner of this house. Your smile, your laugh, the way you look at me when you think I'm being silly. That’s the only detail that matters."

The comment was so unexpected and so full of sincerity that your eyes welled up. James noticed immediately, his smile softening as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice full of affection. "Why the tears, love?"

"It's just..." you took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "I never thought I’d have something like this. A house, you, a future. It feels too good to be true."

James pulled away just enough to look at you, his bright blue eyes shining with what looked like pure love. "Too good? There’s no such thing as ‘too good’ when it comes to you. You deserve all of this and so much more. I promise this house will be full of happiness. Every corner will tell our story."

You smiled, your eyes still a little watery, and James took the opportunity to steal a soft kiss, his lips conveying all the comfort and security you needed.

"Now," he said, a little more excited, "let's talk about that garden. Because I’m going to plant flowers for you. Lots of flowers. And I’ll let you choose the color."

"Oh, really?"

"Of course. Because I’m a perfect fiancé."

You laughed, shaking your head, while the house around you already started to feel like home.

[instantpansies]

oh my word THANK YOU!!! i've been trying to say this since the wicked movie repopularized all of the "wicked is canon" stuff, but you've put it in a way i wasn't able to. YES. certainly wicked is allowed to be a derivative work that recontextualizes Oz. assuming that whatever is in wicked retroactively and automatically changes details about the story (ie, that the scarecrow and the tin woodman knew each other before the events of Wonderful Wizard and/or the MGM film) is simply incorrect.

i'm all for incorporating a body of work that may not be fully compatible into a coherent canon that works as an alternative parallel to the original. i think it's completely fine and understandable that people are hooked on wicked and will want to understand some characters through the lens of wicked. but assuming that wicked's popularity makes it truly canon, or assuming that the history it presents is accurate to Baum's Oz, is ignorant to both the original context of the Baum books and the long history of Oz adaptation.

i'm also a bit of a hater, as i personally believe that understanding Wonderful Wizard characters through a lens of wicked, especially the musical but also the book, is a less interesting way of analyzing the text and symbolism present in that story than either the Baum novel or the MGM film presents as each stands alone.

wicked is, certainly, its own thing. of course it exists in the context of over a hundred years of adaptation before it, but that context is simply not known by most people. it must be able to stand on its own, and i believe it does. but when this retroactive wicked lens is applied to that context and history uncritically, we will run into problems.

i almost want to blame the seemingly recent, but really just more visible shift in fandom to a need for everything to be canon and confirmed? like, it can be difficult to reconcile in our minds that so many different versions of oz are allowed to exist and don't have to be compatible. wicked "confirms" things viewers are left wondering about after the mgm film, so therefore it must be canon, and therefore it's appropriate to correct people on facts they "get wrong" when they contradict wicked canon. that's how the thinking seems to work, at least in my observation. and that way of thinking seeps its way into the secondary or deeper oz fandom, which has led to (in my view) a sort of soft shift from Baum-centric understanding of oz as a whole to a binary star system where Baum and Maguire are seen as co-creators of a more true or real world and story. i'm exaggerating, certainly, but i've seen this shift occur over time. i hesitate to bring this up bc it sounds like i'm whining about the fandom's natural changes and how things aren't the way they used to be, and i guess i am. i digress.

anyways, your original point. yes!!! while oz became baum's most profitable endeavor, and throughout the series you can see him sort of wishing his other books were more profitable so he could expand in different directions, that doesn't mean he didn't care about continuity or cohesion at all. i'd argue he cared more about cohesion and telling a story that made sense and continued to make sense as it was expanded, than he cared about maintaining particular canon details through the whole series. oz changed as baum's tastes, needs, and audience changed, and that is just as important as the changes that would be added by adaptation later on. (hell, many oz fans don't think of the 1902 musical or the silent films as canon, despite them being created by Baum, both because they're less well-known and because they do change things up to better fit their respective media and contexts). this sense of inconsistency, whether overblown or minimized, doesn't mean that wicked is canon compliant with the baum novels. wicked directly contradicts baum's work in some cases--which again, is completely fine. it's a derivative work that takes certain aspects of the original books and the mgm film, synthesizes them in a grimdark expansion on especially the political aspects of the world, and seeks to tell a unique story that allows you to think about Wonderful Wizard and MGM in a different way. but it is not itself an explanation for Baum's supposedly undercooked or unfinished world. it is not itself a part of the original story (i mean this in the context of canonicity of baum's work. oz fans know how complicated oz canon is.) but instead is--as it claims to be--another branch on the complex tree of oz adaptations.

tldr. wicked does not "explain" anyone's actions in Wonderful Wizard or MGM. it seeks to provide an alternative context, or an alternative explanation, certainly. but it does not retroactively "fix" the story. it's perfectly fine to think about the original story or the mgm film in the context of wicked, if you like the alternative history it provides. policing others' adaptations and understandings of the story, or implying or directly stating that wicked should be incorporated into others' headcanons or interpretations or adaptations, or claiming that wicked is canon simply because baum didn't care about canon so everything is canon, is not helpful or productive or good. in fact, that actively makes oz analysis less fun, in my opinion. i hope my point is made here i've been trying to say this for months but as usual i was completely unable to get my thoughts across until acted on by an outside force (seeing this post). so thanks!!

I've seen a lot of people lately harping about how "Wicked isn't canon to the Oz universe", "it's just glorified fanfiction", etc., and I can't express how silly that is, and how annoyed it makes me every time I hear it, lol. Baum's original Oz books were never meant to be some canonical series — they contradict each other constantly; Baum called it a "fairy story" with loose cohesion at best; and it only became a series at all because the first one got popular enough that Baum felt a duty to the fandom to keep making more (even after he had wanted to end it). And the 1939 film is every bit as much "fanfiction" as Wicked — it changes the story in both major and minor ways, including a complete shift of framing (i.e., making Oz into a dream rather than a real place).

Maguire's great contribution to the overarching legacy and lore of Oz was to harmonize the very weak "canon" of the older works with a different shift in framing: recontextualizing all of the prior Oz material as a revisionist history (going off of Baum's own idea framing of himself as a "Royal Historian of Oz"), and attempting to tell "the true story" behind the other works (fictively of course — we're never meant to literally think Maguire's version preceded Baum's, irl). In literary studies, this is called an urtext. The Wicked Years and its adaptations are as much "fanfiction" as the 1939 film: it's just self-aware of that fact in a way that earlier works weren't, and uses that perspective to deconstruct the material and explore deeper (and darker) themes — not simply adapting or reimagining the original text (as the 1939 movie did), but actively challenging it; interrogating it. It's not meant to be "canon" as such: it asks you to ask whether (and why) there is such a thing, and what that might say about the stories that we are meant to literally believe in, in real life.

[devildomwriter]

You Go To See A Christmas Carol Part V

You expected a few mishaps on a trip to the human world to see a Christmas Carol, but you never expected quite so many or how far things would escalate. The play is over but the trouble isn’t and it’s time to get the hell out of dodge before Michael finds out.

Diavolo: “Ahahahahaha.”

Luke: “Ugh.”

Leviathan: “This is going to go viral.”

Once the party was finished properly, curtains came to a close and opened again with the staff taking a bow. Lucifer among them, having effortlessly blended into the cast as their hero.

Everyone slowly trickled into the hallway and you froze in place as you looked at the parking lot from the window.

MC: “Hey guys…”

Diavolo: “Yes, MC?”

MC: “Yeah…there’s no way we’re getting back to our cars…”

Barbatos: “Is there an issue? Oh my.”

Luke: “I’ve never seen so many cops! What happened?”

MC: “…Levi said we were part of a convent.”

Leviathan: “You said you got kidnapped!”

MC: “Technically the truth!”

Belphegor: “While we’re at it…you should know the card declined for the popcorn and none of it was paid for.”

Barbatos: *sigh*

MC: “I’m gonna go crawl in a hole somewhere. I do not wanna deal with this.”

Lucifer: “Why do you two suppose there are police searching the building?”

Mammon: “I don’t know! Maybe cause you beat me publically and a fancy butler joined in!? Or maybe cause Asmo fucked a couple of cops! Or maybe because you sent the cops there to help me away and everyone saw that shit!”

Lucifer: “I see, so it’s your fault.”

Mammon: “How is it my fault!?”

Lucifer: “If you hadn’t stashed seventeen weapons on you before entering a checkpoint then I wouldn’t have had to search you and neither would Barbatos!”

Lucifer: “And you Asmo! Instead of having the cops report a false alarm you had sex with them and made them disappear somewhere!”

Asmodeus: “I don’t know how the legal system works okay!”

Mammon: “While we’re at it, you didn’t have to stay and bow now did you!?”

Staff A: “Hey!”

Staff B: “We found them!”

Lucifer: “Great, just what we need, more witnesses.”

Director: “Listen here, I don’t know who you think you are—“

Lucifer: “All of you. This was a bad dream. Go to sleep.”

The dozens of human staff, actors, and the director fall to the ground asleep.

Asmodeus: “Oh, yikes! Someone totally got a concussion just now! Is that blood…?”

Lucifer: “We’re leaving.”

Mammon: “How!? The cops know what you and I look like.”

Asmodeus: “But not me!? That’s a crime!”

Lucifer & Mammon: “Shut up, Asmo!”

Asmodeus: “Hmph.”

Mammon: “Everyone quiet, MC is calling me.”

MC: “Hey Mammon…where are you guys….okay and why are you not in trouble…they’re asleep…blood?”

Diavolo: “I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere good.”

Satan: “It’s not a conversation they’re relaying information.”

Diavolo: “Yes, either way…”

MC: “Teleport? There are cameras everywhere we can’t just teleport out in the open. The fact we’re up here staring at the cops is already suspicious.”

Staff B: “Excuse me, everyone?”

Barbatos: “I’ll handle this.”

Solomon: “Who is that?”

Barbatos: “No one important.”

An alarm suddenly blares through the building and you all look at each other.

MC: “Is that an alarm?”

MC: “Mammon was that you guys? ….Did he hang up on me?”

MC: “Ugh, whatever. Everyone go down the stairs and make a run for the cars if they start chasing you. Try not to look suspicious. Beelzebub carry Luke.”

Luke: “What? Why do I have to run too? I didn’t do anything!”

Simeon: “Don’t worry Luke, we know.”

Diavolo: “That sounds like a good plan but why don’t we just teleport into my limo instead?”

Leviathan: “Yes, please!”

Belphegor: “Yeah, I don’t feel like running.”

Barbatos: “I’ve returned young master.”

Diavolo: “Good. We’re teleporting into the limo.”

MC: “In front of windows?”

Diavolo: “Okay…Barbatos disable the camera in the stairwell and everyone follow me.”

Barbatos: “Yes, my lord.”

Everyone crams their way into the stairwell and Diavolo snaps his fingers. You fall back against a cushioned seat in Diavolo’s limo, relieved.

Suddenly the limo door slides open and Mammon is thrown into your lap.

MC: “Oof!”

Lucifer: “Drive! Drive!”

Asmodeus: “Hey, don’t leave me!”

Lucifer yanks Asmodeus inside and they lay there on the floor as the limo pulls away while cops run towards the parking lot.

Mammon: “Haha! Too late suckers!”

Lucifer: “You’re in so much trouble.”

Mammon: “Why me!?”

Barbatos drives the limo into an alley where it could safely teleport you all back to the Devildom into the driveway of the House of Lamentation.

One by one you all crawled out of the limo. You held your stomach in pain from absorbing the impact of Lucifer tossing Mammon into the back. Lucifer unlocked the door with some difficulty and everyone, Diavolo included walked inside.

Lucifer: “I’m going to go lie down.”

Leviathan: “Guys turn the tv on quick! The human world news channel!”

Satan: “Which one?”

Leviathan: “I don’t know, whatever was local.”

MC: “You think they’ll be talking about it?”

Leviathan: “I may have seen something about a demon cult on the internet…”

Simeon: “A demon cult?”

Solomon: “Hehe, this should be good. I haven’t been in a large news scandal in a while.”

MC: “And you still aren’t, this is the brothers’ mess. And potentially mine…”

Solomon: “Potentially? You’re the one who said you got kidnapped.”

MC: “I didn��t publically beat anyone.”

Leviathan: “I found the channel, be quiet!”

News Reporter: “Thanks Jim we’re back on channel 8 bringing you the latest on the Christmas Carol chaos.”

News Reporter: “Witnesses say they first noticed something was wrong when a group of men with colorful hair began to harass a security guard. Minutes later one of them broke away from the line and began violently beating another in a nearby parking lot, they were soon joined by a white man wearing traditional butler attire. To make things worse when the cops did arrive they left after being waved off like nothing happened.”

Cop C: “I don’t recall even being at the scene to begin with. We got a call about a hate crime taking place and that’s the last thing I can remember.”

Lucifer: “A hate crime…”

Barbatos: “Oh dear…”

News Reporter: “The guard Matthew Vallinci details that they all went by strange names and referred to the black-haired one as Lucifer.”

Guard: “I’m a practicing Catholic, I knew something was weird about them from the beginning and then one of them told me they were there for Diavolo. I’m a third-generation Italian I know what that means, it means Devil! They also said something about kidnapping and Stockholm syndrome and drugs.”

All: “…”

MC: “My bad…”

Guard: “Even weirder when me and Larry asked for the truth they told us they were the master of the seven rulers of hell or somethin’ and wished us a good night. They were completely psychotic.”

All: “…”

MC: “In my defense… …I did not think that would get back to me…”

News Reporter: “Among claims of demons, convents, human trafficking, and public acts of violence there are still no answers as, despite all the cameras, the people involved are nowhere to be seen.”

Leviathan: “…”

Asmodeus: “…”

News Reporter: “Hang on a minute…I am getting word now that the security cameras have been reviewed and reveal some rather shocking things.”

MC: “It’s all downhill from here folks.”

Luke: “This can’t get any worse!”

Belphegor: “You underestimate us.”

Lucifer: “I need some Demonus.”

Diavolo: “Absolutely not.”

News Reporter: “In a video too graphic to share two of the cops from earlier in the case abandoned finding answers on a possible kidnapping crime and were recorded having sex with one of the convent men. Neither has been seen since.”

All: “…”

Asmodeus: “There were cameras down there! We need that footage! Then I can find out what bitch stole my Devicci necklace!”

Mammon: “I cannot believe that’s the only reason you’re concerned, people would pay so much money to see that shit!”

Lucifer: “ Shut the HELL up.”

News Reporter: “Furthermore in some unexplainable footage the man from earlier is seen again with his victim and after snapping his fingers the production crew for The Christmas Carol all seem to faint simultaneously.”

*The footage plays*

Diavolo: “Well…this is going to take a while to cover up…”

News Reporter: “Other infractions by these individuals include public intoxication—“

Lucifer: “…”

News Reporter: “Theft of food—“

Beelzebub: “…”

Belphegor: “…”

News Reporter: “Threats to staff—“

Barbatos: “…”

Satan: “…”

MC: “…”

News Reporter: “And grooming.”

MC: “What!? Who the fuck did that!?”

News Reporting: “The group was spotted with a child who seemed to shout in distress before the beginning of play, something about “Chihuahuas.”

Luke: “Nooooooo.”

Leviathan: “You’re a legend, Luke.”

News Reporting: “One server is shocked by the allegations made upon the group as the man with red hair had given her a tip large enough to pay off her Student loans however psychological analysts suspect this was a way to groom her into the convent by winning her affection.”

Diavolo: “…No…”

MC: “Oh yeah, she said to thank you. I forgot about that.”

Diavolo: “…”

News Reporter: “So what really happened here? A convent, a stunt, a new TikTok trend, or a demonic cult? We’ll have more for you after these commercials.”

All: “…”

Ringing echoes in the common room.

MC: “…Who’s phone is that…”

Lucifer: “I think it’s mine?

Lucifer: “…”

Lucifer: “Nope. I’m too sober for this, Simeon you answer him.”

Simeon: “Hm? Oh…it’s Michael.”

Diavolo: “Tell him hello for me.”

Simeon: “Yeah…I don’t know if I should.”

Simeon: “Hello— ….no…it’s me Simeon…Lucifer is…”

Lucifer: “Away.”

Simeon: “Drunk.”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Simeon: “No. MC is fine…Diavolo was not trying to kidnap anyone he was just doing a good deed. The cops? I have no idea…”

Simeon: “Asmodeus, where did the cops go?”

Asmodeus: “I have no idea I just said to take a vacation.”

Simeon: “Yes…yes…don’t worry I will…tomorrow? At 12:00? Okay…I’ll let him know. Goodbye…”

Simeon: “Well…the seraphs are working on erasing memories and proof…also we’re all temporarily banned from the human world.”

MC: “But I live there!?”

Simeon: “Right…Michael says not to tell any more kidnapped jokes…he also asks that Leviathan not upload videos of his brothers to the human internet.”

All: “…”

Lucifer: “Those…were…YOUR videos, Levi?”

Leviathan: “Th-there were others!”

MC: “Well, I’m going to bed. I’ve had enough Christmas cheer for one day.”

Mammon: “Is that what that was supposed to be? You humans are pretty weird.”

MC: “Says the man who brought seventeen different weapons to a theatre!”

Mammon: “I forgot about em!”

MC: “Literally, how!?”

Luke: “Guuuuuys!”

All: “…”

MC: “Yeah?”

Luke: “I-I have an idea!”

Barbatos: “Yes?”

Luke: “T-today got sorta messed up and Asmo didn’t even get to see the play at all and Mammon missed the most important parts and we were all super worried about earlier so…can we watch the Christmas Carol movie together?”

All: “…”

Beelzebub: “Popcorn?”

Satan: “I’ll start making it.”

Leviathan: “I’ll get the blankets.”

Lucifer: “I’ll get the Demonus.”

Simeon: “Someone stop him, please.”

MC: “I call remote privileges!”

Diavolo: “Ooh I can’t wait! What version shall we watch?”

Meanwhile in the Celestial Realm

*news report ends*

Seraphim: “…”

Michael: “…”

Michael: “…Did anyone record that?”

Raphael: “I did.”

Michael: “Play it again.”

— FIN —

Previous

[sharoo]

The Flower-Seeker, the Robot, and the City without Faith

It's me again emerging from my mole's burrow to leave a thematic analysis piece and then bury myself again for a few more months.

Spoilers for Canto 7

CW for mentions of suicidal ideation and some death talk

Let's talk about Bari and her role in the world of Projmoon.

I think everyone who experienced LoR before Limbus was in the same camp as me upon the reveal of Bari.

Which is to say:

The chat was not normal.

But now I've had some time to cool off and actually think and Bari's position in her world is honestly kind of fascinating, especially as a take on immortal characters.

Because first and foremost, Bari has to be ancient. In a meta sense, sprites of the Book Hunter, as we knew her back then, date back all the way to Lobcorp. In universe meanwhile, she was already a long time traveller before she met Don Quixote senior and Sancho. She was there when the Associations were being established and competing for popularity. That was, on the low end, several hundred years ago. We don't know how long it took to construct La Manchaland, or how long that operated before everything fell apart and Quixote Senior sealed everyone away for 200 years.

All through this, Bari hasn't aged a day. My guess is that it's possibly thanks to the river of immortality Xichun mentions, or something else found outside the City.

And this is where we hit one of my favourite tropes - immortals passing time.

1. Remember that you will not die

One of the most interesting things to consider in fiction is the question of "What would you do if you were immortal? You'd have infinite time to do anything you desired - to travel, learn, rest. What would you do?"

Very often, humans who undergo this process in stories eventually begin to stagnate. They end up not doing anything, because internal motivation disappears. This is understandable, because, to get a little memento mori for a moment here, death is the biggest motivator we humans have - it's our time limit. You only get X amount of time to enjoy certain things, to achieve certain goals, so that at the tail end of it you'll be able to reminisce and hopefully smile before you expire. Add to it that age itself limits us, be it youth not allowing us independence or old age slowing us down and limiting us with weakness, and you can see how we are driven, at least in theory, to live life fully as long as we can.

To lose that - the constant dread of your body slowly, but surely, progressing towards failure, breaking down little by little, is to rob us of our inherent motivator. It is a very large part of being a human, really. A lot of our lives and cultures circle around this immutable fact that we don't last, and our questions regarding the why and the what comes after. Religion exists to answer most of those questions.

So... what does one do when they lose that, and become immortal without purpose?

They seek another. Or they disappear.

2. Faith (A Ruina tangent)

Before I get to Bari, it's important to examine her debut game, and the one person she interacts with (and believe me I have thoughts about it).

So, Angela. Our most beloved not-human with all the characteristics of humanity except a lifespan, and a perfect example of an immortal trying to pass time.

LoR goes to great lengths to show her desperation going back all the way to Lobcorp. It shows, quite clearly, first her inability to cope with the circumstances Ayin stuck her in, followed by her resignation to fate and a silent wish for the end. I will not mince words, Angela reads to me back then as silently suicidal, in that she's given up on any other solution to her pain but the conclusion of the play. Then, and only then, was she to be allowed to rest. She had no say in when the play would end so she could only hope it eventually would.

She yearned for death. But then, something changed. Netzach points out that indeed, though she wished for the end, she truly wanted to live. To exist, to escape her prison and to finally know this world besides the pain. That desire gave her enough humanity to manifest her own EGO.

All with the purpose of seeking the One Book that'd give her humanity, and, in her eyes, make her finally complete and able to live in happiness.

The most important part of LoR for this analysis is the Floor of Religion, and Hokma's view of faith. Honestly I'd recommend watching through all of these because it's so poignant. Or better yet, watch Hydrojoy's Angela video (the fact they've got so few subscribers with this level of analysis is a crime honestly).

Some lines I want to focus on, though, are these:

Things without purpose shall disappear. People without purpose will similarly expire.

Angela admits to herself that she doesn't know what she's doing. She's simply chasing some sort of meaning - revenge, freedom from her robotic condition, power, knowledge, anything that'll give her fulfilment.

And in the forgiveness route, she finally finds that in companionship of Roland and, I'd like to think, the Librarians.

But if she doesn't forgive, she ends up losing any purpose besides continuous revenge. There is no companionship when the Librarians turn on her for betraying them. There's no use in being human when it doesn't benefit her mission, and frankly just makes it harder because it makes her easier to harm. There's no point leaving the library when outside will not welcome her, it's much safer to stay inside forever.

There is no point to anything. Angela's revenge is hollow, really - Ayin is dead and no amount of sticking it to him will earn a response from a dead guy.

Enter the Book Hunter.

I will be honest in saying I don't fully understand what they both mean, with them speaking in sort of vague terms. It sounds like Bari was employed by Angela to kill other Book Hunters (perhaps in exchange for knowledge?).

What matters to me, though, are the final lines - the recognition of what Angela is and delivering death to the last librarian.

3. The Scholar of Meaning and the Reaper of the Meaningless

As the Limbus wiki points out, Bari is likely named after a Korean funerary goddess who sought both a healing river and a flower of immortality. But this influence strikes me especially in the context of her being an immortal who meets a lot of other (and often younger) immortals.

She's wise to the fact that all things need meaning to exist. They need an ambition, a wish, something to strive for.

So she attempts to give it to them.

This is shown not just explicitly with Quixote senior, but also with Quixote junior after Sancho gives up her memory, itself a form of death Bari guides her to. For 200 years, Bari made sure to visit Don Quixote and leave her letters so that this person who was once a dear friend may dream, may have meaning and a purpose in her immortal life.

Because you need something to drive you in life, be it becoming a legendary fixer, creating a place where Bloodfiends can live in peace with humans, or searching for a flower which grew from the mysterious rivers flowing through your world.

And if you have lost purpose and can no longer find one, if she cannot save you from that void, she will be there to put you out of your misery, for a meaningless eternity is its own sort of hell, and cruelty it perpetuates is nothing but needless.

In her own words - you must pursue your dream, even if it means wagering your life in the chase.

I think Bari's view of the Bloodfiends' illness and what Carmen describes as the disease humanity could be similar if not the same thing. Roland says in Floor of Religion's first episode that the City has no established religion - people focus on their immediate survival, suffering is everpresent, and the more organised religious-seeming groups are cults trying to exploit you.

The City has lost its purpose. People do not dream, or are not allowed to for long because those dreams are swiftly quashed. Carmen offers an out to suffering through becoming so unapologetically yourself you gain the power to enact your will on the world, for better or worse.

Bari seeks, I think, to give the same, but through simple companionship. Not cohersion, not magic, but through the same thing that has given so many people across this franchise meaning - having a friend to be there for you as you look for what drives you. Because to be alone in meaninglessness is the most cruel and difficult thing. I wonder if she knows that from experience...

I really hope we get more of Bari in the future so I can see if my analysis is more fanfiction than truth but with just the bits we have I have to say she's one of my favourite secondary characters in Limbus.

[stephiramona]

The tale of two cities according to Heiko and Stephi - Part 504

I love Christmastime, but the closer Christmas comes, the more stressful it gets for most people. While I try to avoid stress in my personal life, my working days become really rough in December. I'm a hairdresser, and business gets insane at Christmastime. We have so much to do and work a lot of overtime. I think people working in retail have it even worse. The most stressful thing is not the workload and overtime—in these branches, we are used to busy times—but the customers are tense, stressed, and in a bad mood. Customers tend to be much more unfriendly. People who work in branches where Christmas business is important give their best to serve customers as well as they can, and it's sad that during Christmastime they are often the outlet for others' bad moods. Christmastime is also called the quiet time, which seems absurd to me. But for hairdressers, it's not just stressful; customers show their gratitude for our work through little presents, Christmas or thank-you cards, and much more generous tips than usual.

Actually, I wanted to write about Christmas trees and Christmas, not the stress in some branches. But because of the stress, I don't even have any Christmas decorations this year, and I have no Christmas tree. But gladly, Heiko took a photo of his beautifully decorated Christmas tree, which you can see in the first photo. I took the second photo at my physiotherapist's, who had a Christmas tree in the hall. Do you have a stressful time at Christmas?

[goopgirlie813]

This is full of strawmans and you are clearly not understanding what is being said to you. I am genuinely at a loss for how the hell to get you to understand what we are saying. It's just in one ear and out the other and I don't get why or how or where its getting lost in translation. But you're misrepresenting what we are saying and I don't even think you understand why what you're saying is a misrepresentation.

Like, you genuinely think that you have answered our questions but you haven't and for some baffling reason you seem unable to comprehend what is actually being asked or why its important. The only explanation I can come up with is some form of cognitive bias (I am seeing some behaviors that I used to do when I was deep in cognitive dissonance, but I can't say for sure) but I am not willing to spend my holidays contending with that.

I hope in the future when heads are clearer we can have a more productive and respectful discussion on the topic.

Until then, happy holidays :)

Pretty sure @needabetternamelater has reblogged like 5 of my posts and then blocked me. So that's funny. But, just in case it's just a glitch that won't let me reblog those replies.

What do we do with rapists in a prisonless society? Well, 1. Fewer than 1% of rapists go to prison, so holding up prison as the standard that any other solution has to beat isn't hard. What do with do with rapists in a society with prisons? For 99+%? Not prison.

2. Prisons do not reduce the amount of rapes that happen. So again, prison fails pretty handedly at being both a prevention and a punishment. (It's a bit like arguing 'without the death penalty, what will we do with shop lifters?")

3. I've explain many times, on posts you've responded to, the variety of responses a justice system can have to any crime, including sexual assault. Mandatory counseling, restraining orders, restorative/reparation hearings, housing and employment restrictions, fines, caseworker check ins, mental health consults, and vocational training are all possible responses, and which would would have the best chance of preventing recidivism would depend on the specifics of that person and the risk factors in them reoffending.

In the past, we locked people in pillories and cut off their hands for crimes. Phasing out a cruel and ineffective punishment doesn't mean there's free reign for crime.

[ryleektv]

Can you write something for Lorenzo Berkshire and have it be where he love it when you wear pink? Like it’s his favorite color on you! Like one day when y’all are in his or your room and y’all are making out and then he sees you wearing a pink bra and then he checks to see if it’s a set and it is! So then it just leads to smut! If you don’t want to write this I’d understand.

AHHHHH omg the fact that i got this the SAME day i dressed up in all pink to go watch wicked is INSANE (wicked is absolutely amazing btw) like full glinda coded eyeshadow and pink eyeliner and everything. also i am sick (AGAIN, ive quite literally been sick constantly for the past 3 months bc my immune system might as well not exist)

anyways i hope this is good enough pooks

Favorite Color

(on his favorite girl)

bf!lorenzo berkshire x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, ummm biting?, whipped Lorenzo, not proofread, lowkey not Toxic!Lorenzo??? SUMMARY: Lorenzo's favorite color was famously red. But on you? Pink all the way.

WC: 1.4k

"Hey, princess- okay then." Lorenzo stopped in the doorway, his hands up as he dodged the shoe you threw in his direction. "Why're you so pissed off, hm?"

You groaned out incoherent swears at him before flopping over onto your back, leaving you bed sheets warm where you had been. "What do you want?"

"To spend time with my beautiful sweet girlfriend and find out who pissed in her tea?" He questioned as he took a careful step forward. "What can I do, honey?"

"I don't know." You mumbled with a heavy sigh. "Don't hate me, but I don't think I wanna do date night out tonight."

Lorenzo took another few steps before sitting down at the edge of the bed, his thumb delicately brushing your cheek.

"I'd never hate you. You sure you don't want to go out? I know you love getting all dressed up to show off."

You watched him carefully as his fingers traced over your t-shirt. You'd gotten half way ready, your hair and makeup done perfectly, before you realized that not only was your dress in need to be washed, but it was pouring out, and your picnic date was a complete waste.

Lorenzo, of course, was quick to call and ask if you wanted to just go get dinner at a restaurant instead, to which you agreed. But, none of your other clothes seemed good enough, and to make matters even worse, you found out last minute that you flunked on an important Potion's exam.

"I don't even have anything to wear," You complained quietly, resting your head on his thigh and tugging the blankets back up so you'd stay warm.

He looked over at the piles of clothes thrown everywhere, but like a smart man, didn't say anything.

"Can we just stay in tonight?"

"Of course,"

"That is not realistic, I mean, who the hell stabs someone like that? And- and blood doesn't just spurt our like that unless you hit an artery." Lorenzo tutted, still tracing circles on your shoulder with the tip of his index finger. "That's just not how it works."

You looked up at him with furrowed brows, your head rested on his chest as you watched the horror movie on the screen with your boyfriend. "Why the hell do you suddenly know so much about the logics of stabbing? Should I be concerned, Enzo?"

"No, I'm just saying. There's science behind this stuff, and if the were really that interested in spending what I assume to be millions on making this movie, you'd think they would at least put a little research into it."

"You're psychotic."

"It turns you on, though." He looked down at you as he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and turned back to the television and watched as the killer proceeded to drag the protagonists dead body towards the woods.

"Deny it, maybe?"

You burst out laughing and looked up at Enzo who was watching you with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Oh, baby, I'm not denying shit."

Lorenzo's brown eyes stared down at you with a sparkle you could recognize from a mile away, his lips brushing up into a smirk.

"Enzo," You whispered, fully intending to spur him on.

His lips immediately crashed to yours, his hands tugging you closer as yours went to his hair.

You let out a soft sigh, eliciting a quiet groan from Lorenzo as he seemed to try to pull you impossibly closer to him. You could feel him already touching all over you, exploring every inch of your body as if it was his first time near a woman.

Still continuing your quickly escalating make-out session, he maneuvered the two of you so he was propped up over your body, his teeth nipping at you bottom lip before his tongue met yours in a familiar dance.

His hands came back to your hair, stroking over it as you pulled at him, both of you already breathing heavily into each other's mouths, gasping in each other's air as it got hotter.

And because Lorenzo would rather die than do it himself, you gently pushed him up so the two of you could breathe properly for a moment, his wild eyes staring down into yours as he gasped for breath, his lips swollen and wet as he grinned.

"Go lock the door," You murmured, four words that drove him mad, quickly scrambling off of you and practically running to the door as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

If only he'd put as much effort into his school work as he did locking the door when you'd ask.

You sat up slightly, pulling the oversized t-shirt over your head to reveal the pink lace bra you'd planned to wear for your restaurant date.

Lorenzo shuddered out a breath as his eyes dropped to the bra, lips parted slightly as his eyes softened. "Fucking hell,"

His gaze hovered over your breasts before looking up at you with a questioning whisper, "Is it?"

"Why don't you come see for yourself?" You grabbed his belt loop with your middle finger, pulling him over to you before rejoining your lips with his as he climbed back over you, smiling into the kiss as you lifted your hips to help as he slowly pulled down your shorts.

You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of your matching pink panties, Enzo's fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit over the fabric as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

"I don't think I tell you enough how beautiful you are." He mumbled against your lips as he slowly pushed the fabric of your panties to the side and easily pushed two fingers into you.

You let out a gasping moan, pulling on his hair as he curled his fingers hard inside of you, picking up the pace as flashes of heat grew all over your body in pulses.

"Enzo- shit- fuck me, please just-" You cut off with a whimper. "Just fuck me already." You practically pleaded as your eyes welled up with tears at the pleasure of his fingers curling perfectly inside you, his thumb starting up rough circles on your clit.

Lorenzo must have been like a dog in heat tonight, because he was clearly too desperate to make you beg, instead just undoing his belt and pulling off his pants and boxers faster than you'd ever seen him before.

His tip pressed against your entrance as he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a groan as he slipped in, your back arching at the perfect fit.

"Oh, fuck, Enzo," You breathed, arms wrapping over your shoulders as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, gently biting at your flesh as he sped up. "You feel so good, princess."

Your head tipped back as you felt his fingers speeding up as they circled your clit again, making the knot in your stomach form far faster than usual.

You pressed your hips back against his, meeting it time with his thrusts and pushing him deeper inside of you as you listened to his moans pressed into your skin, your own mouth agape as you whined at the sharp tug of your skin between his teeth.

"Oh, Gods, Enzo- Enzo, I'm so fucking close." You moaned into his hair, nails digging into his tensed back as you closed your eyes, legs shaking slightly.

"C'mon, I've got you." He pulled away from your neck, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I am too."

With one more thrust you tipped over the edge, vision going blank as you gave way to the waves of please, heat coursing through your body as if your blood was replaced with lava, chest heaving as tears slipped past your waterline, rolling down your cheeks before Lorenzo gently kissed them away.

You wrapped your legs tighter around Lorenzo as he was about to pull out, interrupting his panicked glance, "I'll get a vial." You breathed, with less than a second difference before he was finishing inside of you, the both of you moaning at the feeling.

Lorenzo flopped down on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face buried in your chest. "I love you,"

You brushed back his hair with the tips of your fingers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, too, Enzo."

i kinda hate this too but thats okay bc i wrote it was 3am and thats excuse enough

requests are open as always and i promise i am in fact still working on a slytherin boys christmas im just severely behind

[writingastory]

221: A summer's night

A/N: Please keep in mind that this is no-where near "canon" and his Myth only served as inspiration. There are some spoilers and a lot of altered / made-up events. Hope you enjoy.

Word count: 1.8k

— "But maybe that's where love grows best - in the deep space that exists between polarities."

"Sylus?"

The young woman's voice echoed in the empty cave. The dragon's lair was unusually cold and quiet. She called his name again, only to be met with silence once more.

Carefully, she made her way deeper into the cave, her feet thudding lightly against the cold stone ground. His usual resting place was unoccupied. She frowned and looked around. Was he toying with her? Playing a game of hide-and-seek? It certainly would not be the first time. She had lost count of the many occasions he had tricked her like that, suddenly emerging from the dark or some other hidden corner. This time, however, it seemed like he was truly not there.

She stepped closer to his resting place, patting the stone gently. As cold as the rest of the cave. Where was he?

It was close to midnight when she awoke again, a soft glow illuminating the cave. Warmth surrounded her and when she finally remembered where she was, she realized that she had been gently tucked in - on Sylus' resting place.

"Boo," he mumbled, his voice laced with a sense of mischief. She jerked around, finding him sitting on the ground next to his place, looking up at her with his signature smirk. "Rest well?"

She blushed and pushed the blanket off, climbing down from the stone-bed. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking at him with a sheepish grin.

"Where were you?" her voice was soft and gentle as she kneeled down next to him - and froze briefly when she saw some cuts along his arms and shoulders. "You're hurt...!"

The Dragon grumbled quietly, his gaze darkening. "It's fine," he answered, a soft sigh leaving his lips. "Ran into a bit of trouble earlier. Nothing important."

Her hand came to rest on his arm, squeezing him gently. "Let me help you," she whispered, knowing full well that he did not need her help; he would quickly heal on his own, just fine. But...

"I want to..."

Sylus grunted when her fingers traced along one of the cuts gently. The sting of her magic was sweet yet painful as she mended his torn skin slowly. It was a ritual they had followed many times during their relationship. Ever since they were children, she had regularly tended to him. She had dried his tears, dabbed his blood, mended his skin. She was an outcast - just like Sylus.

"Thank you," he mumbled, taking a deep breath. A heavy silence settled over the two of them, only interrupted by the soft humming of her magic.

"The Legion is getting closer everyday," he said quietly, a deep frown etched onto his face. "I..." he started - only to be interrupted by her voice.

"I'm not leaving," she said firmly, finishing up mending another wound on his skin. "I'm not, so don't even think about it."

Sylus sighed deeply under his breath. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? You aways were. It's annoying."

She chuckled, finishing up treating the last of his wounds. "I know," she answered, scooting a little closer to him, "but you leave me no choice." A grin made its way onto her face. "I wouldn't be here with you if I weren't so stubborn, hm?"

He huffed dryly, not able to suppress a small smirk of his own. "Still," he said, taking her hand into his much bigger claws gently, "I can't have you get hurt... or worse. You should leave. For now."

"No, Sylus." Her voice was filled with determination as she looked up at him. "You and me, we were both chased away from society. Together. We fought our way through life. Together. We built Tarus City. Together. I won't leave you now. Whatever you choose to do - flee or fight - I will stay with you. We'll do it together."

Sylus avoided her gaze, his frown deepening once more. "Promise me, Sylus," she pleaded, squeezing his clawed hands. "Promise me, you won't separate us. Don't face this alone."

He had not answered her, just squeezing her hand gently - and she should have known it was a mistake to not be more firm and demand an answer. If she had, maybe she would not have found herself in the middle of nowhere, abandoned and without orientation. She was not helpless by any means - she was a sorceress after all; still, she was alone, fending for herself, fighting her way back to Tarus City. The burning city was a literal beacon in the distance, an eerily bright glow illuminating the horizon.

Her heart clenched painfully. Tarus City - the city of outcasts - that Sylus and her helped build and fortify. The city where they found friendship. Love. A home. Everything that society took from them, they had found there... and now it was burning to the ground.

The Legion of Justitia was merciless, slaughtering everyone that was brave enough to go against them. She fought her way through the main gate and immediately spotted a familiar face.

"Alran!" She called, hoping her voice would make it over the deafening ruckus around her. She was lucky, for once. The imposing figure turned towards her, after he had finally subdued his foe. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked over, bowing his head in respect - despite the more than disgruntled look on his face.

"Where were you?" he asked lowly. "The city was attacked at midnight, the fiend has been defeated - and you were nowhere to be found!"

Her ears rang loudly at his words. The fiend had been defeated...?

"Sylus..." she whispered, gripping Alran's shoulders, shaking him forcefully. "Where is he? Where is Sylus?!"

The screams had long stopped, when the Legion finally left Tarus City - or rather, the burning remains of it. She stood in the middle of the ruined market place, her hands sore and burning from overusing her magic. But what other way was there to stop the attacks?

Hot tears streamed down her face, dropping into the cold ashes on the ground.

"Sylus is dead," Alran had said. "He fought well... but they got lucky."

A loud sob escaped her lips - and she broke down screaming and crying. In the midst of whatever was left of the city, the young sorceress wailed, mourning the death of her love.

Very few people survived the vicious attack. Thankfully, her most loved ones were among them.

Alran.

Dochin.

Elora.

Opiris.

Talula.

"Where-", another sob wrecked through her, "where is he? Show me where it happened."

Alran stepped forward, glaring down at her. "First, you owe us an answer. Where were you?"

She looked up at him slowly, her vision blurred from unshed tears. "You've got some nerve..." she whispered, clearly understanding the implication in his words. With a snap of her fingers, she cast an illusion, showing the whole group her memories.

Sylus had taken her on an outing earlier that day. He flew to Taurus' outskirts with her, where the seas of red blossoms were in full bloom. They had frolicked around, rolled through the grass and flowers, shared hopes, and dreams, and wishes... and soft kisses. She had fallen asleep - and woken up alone.

"Challenge my integrity and loyalty again, I dare you," she sneered, standing up slowly as the illusion slowly faded away. Alran, the imposing half-orc, lowered himself to one knee slowly, bowing his head - the others immediately following his example.

"I apologize," he mumbled. "When we saw the fiend fighting alone, we assumed you dead. It was... a shock to see you alive. Not that we're unhappy about that, but-"

She cut him off harshly. "Save your breath," she snarled, "and take me to where it happened. Where did the fiend-... where did Sylus..."

Alran nodded and motioned her - and the rest of the group - to follow him. It was not far from the city gates - and Sylus' cave. With every step they took, her heart grew heavier. It was maddening. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe Sylus was not dead. Maybe he was just heavily injured and needed their help. He would be alright. They would nurse him back to help.

It would all be alright.

If she just clung to that thought...

The ground was blackened by a fire, soot strewn about in all directions from the point of impact. She sighed heavily, fresh tears welling up in her eyes at the sight. The group lowered their heads in respect as she made her way over slowly, her gaze fixed on the area in the middle of the black soot - an area that seemed so awfully familiar in shape.

She whimpered and knelt down, tracing the line between the ground and where the soot appeared. Sylus.

A loud curse left her lips and she punched the ground in anger and hate and sadness - it was not fair. Sylus should be there. With them. With her. And all that was left of him was a silhouette and soot, burnt sand in the desert.

"I'm... so sorry..." Alran said, having stepped closer in the meantime. He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "It's not right..." she whispered, her fingers raking through the sand underneath her, as if trying to feel Sylus one last time.

"It's not right, he should have... I should be..."

Alran shushed her gently, allowing her to lean against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her to comfort her. They sat there from sunset to sunrise, mourning the loss of their dear friend and beloved companion.

Days passed. Days filled with sorrow and misery. Tarus City laid in ruins. Everything they built up and worked for was destroyed. The little group found more survivors underneath the rubble, old and young, men and women. It was a small beacon of hope - even if the light was still weak and dim.

Every day, once the work was done, she had returned to that fateful place. Sylus' silhouette was still clearly visible on the ground, even after the many times her hands had touched the outlines.

"My love... beloved Dragon... how will I ever cope with your death...?" she whispered as she looked up at the moon. A deep sigh escaped her as she turned to leave the place - when something caught her eye in the ground.

Maybe it was fate... or something else. In that moment, it felt like Sylus himself had answered her from another realm. There, hidden in the sand, something glistened in the moonlight. She bent down and picked it up - and her heart started racing. She knew immediately, what it was. A beautiful red gem, that belonged to her love. Onto his chest, like a heart, connecting his human and dragon form.

She gasped, examining the treasure in her hands. How had she not seen it before? "Sylus," she whispered, a sense of hope coursing through her veins. Her lips found the red gem, placing a gentle kiss onto the cold surface.

"I will bring you back."

[enbyfvcker]

["Merry Christmas, Honey Badger!"]

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 0.6k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Wade sets a Christmas Party.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Fluff, comfort, just them being all cute and domestic and Logan not being used to affection.

Wade always made a point to decorate the apartment on holidays and celebrate them properly. He didn't had that on his fucked up childhood, so it's important to him. Althea told Logan that, so he was playing along even though he didn't really care about those things. He cares about Wade.

Wade gave him really cheesy matching Christmas sweaters with their faces on them, and he hated them. But he wore it anyway. Logan wearing the one with a little Deadpool and Wade wearing one with a little Wolverine.

It was stupid, but it made Wade happy. Logan liked him smiling, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"We look so cute, peanut! Don't you think, Al? Oh, right, you can't see."

"Fuck off, jerk." The old lady spat.

"Well, I wish you could smell how adorable we look right now."

Logan grinned and shook his head. He was doing this more often, he realized. Smiling.

Mary Puppins walks in with her tongue out and Wade quickly scoops her up, the dog licking his face excitedly.

"Come to daddy, baby!"

"Oh, god. You got one for the dog, too?" Logan scowl when he sees dogpool wearing a little Christmas sweater just like them.

"Of course I did! She's our daughter!" The merc replies, holding Mary Puppins up as she wiggles. "Aren't you the cuttest little thing? Yes, you are!"

...

Wade invited the whole gang over: Laura, Yukio, Ellie, Peter... other side characters who didn't have any lines... And he may have cooked a feast - wearing his little "Kiss the cook" apron - and got gifts for everyone. He's cheesy like that. He's got a family now, and he doesn't take them for granted.

It was opening gifts time, and everyone was exchanging presents and there were a lot of "thank you's" and hugs.

It was still all foreign to Logan. He lived the past years all alone, and holidays like this used to be all the same to regular days where he would just drown himself in bottles of whiskey and be miserable.

But this family was nice. He felt like if Wade did, then he could belong, too.

Maybe he wasn't the Wolverine he should be, but Laura still seemed to like him and wanted to bond with him despite how fucked up he is. Wade adored him, and his friends were all kind to him.

Maybe he didn't have to be miserable forever. Maybe he could put his past behind and make a future in this new universe.

"For you." Wade announced, holding out a small wrapped box in front of Logan who was sitting on the couch. "Open."

Logan took the box and Wade sits beside him, tapping his fingers excitedly on his knees.

He unwraps it and when he opens it he sees dog tags that looked very alike the ones he had. He lost them in his universe while he was black out drunk.

But as he grabbed to examine them, he noticed this one's different.

On one side, it read: 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣, and when he turned it around, it read:

"𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙒𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚"

He could feel his heart aching as he grabbed the tags tight.

"Did you make this?"

"Yeah! I didn't really know what to get you, so I- Oh my god- Are you crying?!"

"No." Logan lied, fighting back an insistent tear.

"Oh god, I can't believe I made Wolverine cry!"

"Shut up."

"Come here, honey badger." Wade coos, hugging Logan in a soft embrace.

Logan doesn't hug back, but he also doesn't pull away. He wouldn't admit, but he needed it a bit. So he just sniffed as he let Wade hold him.

And he may hide it under his shirts, but after that, he never took the tags off. Rubbing them affectionately like he used to do with his old ones. Except these were so more meaningful.

[End.]

Hope you liked it! I wanted to make a cute poolverine holiday fic, so he ya go! Them being all cute and domestic it's so important to me.