#i left this fairly open verse wise -

[victoriousfidelity]

"If anyone is going to understand this, it's me, so go on."

one line starter for @theresastargirl

[exantivancrow]

Hii! From the ask game

How quick is your OC to trust someone else?

Is your OC self-aware? Do they know their strengths, weaknesses, idiosyncrasies, are they capable of self-irony?

What are your OC’s gestures like? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish?

for any OCs you'd like! :]

hi laya!! ty for the ask! i wanted to use this opportunity to work on my barely fleshed–out dwarves, but also included rohan for some familiarity. quick overview, rohan brosca (canon warden); eirin cadash (da2 companion post-warden carver)/dai npc; zolah kondrat (varric’s publisher/fwb/merchant’s guild associate iliad-verse); poppy rolfe [cadash] (varric’s half sister in his own related-inky worldstate).

rohan is not quick to trust at all. in fact, bold of you to assume he trusts. he may have at one point, but after leske tried to kill him, everything fell apart. he kept expecting it, even from his companions. his relationship with everyone took a hit, and nobody ever really got over it except zevran. occasionally, rohan still won’t tell zevran something, fifteen years later, just because he doesn’t trust zev to be able to handle it. 

eirin is largely the same way. it’s not wise to trust people easily in kirkwall, and she’s lived there her whole life. she’s slow to trust, you have to really earn it. the only people she trusts are her brother, her bodyguard/second, and varric. some people she doesn’t trust, but she doesn’t not-trust either, if that makes sense. they’re just people that are incapable of betraying her because she doesn’t ask anything from them. 

zolah is rather quick to trust, depending on what she asks of you. she’ll trust you if she has no reason not to, but it’s kind of misleading, given she’ll set up contingencies anyway. but she doesn’t trust anyone else in the merchant’s guild except varric. 

poppy trusts everyone explicitly, she’s fairly naive. it’s mostly a defense mechanism given that her mother didn’t trust anyone after her father left them, and she’s determined not to live like that. it backfires sometimes. 

rohan is fairly self-aware; he definitely knows his strengths and weaknesses. his pride is capable of removing his ability for self-irony, but he’s not prideful about too much. his friendship with alistair and bethany help, they encourage him to open up, but honestly zev can make it worse. he has trouble laughing at himself when zev’s around, he just gets embarrassed. he’s not aware of idiosyncrasies at all though, he thinks it’s weird that you don’t do that. 

eirin is the least self-aware out of these three. she only knows her strengths and weaknesses regarding comabt/her job as a carta boss. she understands that she has idiosyncrasies but only in the way of avoiding exploitation. not capable of laughing at herself at all. least introspective. has no idea she’s got a crush on varric. 

zolah on the other hand is incredibly self aware. she knows all of this. loves to laugh at herself, especially when it means someone’s attempt at humiliation or blackmail doesn’t work. understand that she’s a little funky and uses it to her advantage. secure in her strengths, willing to work with others to overcome her weaknesses. 

poppy is averagely self-aware. she knows some of her abilities and disabilities, but introspection is not one of her primary past times, she’s got stuff to make. no time. 

rohan doesn’t gesture very often. it’s frequently lackadaisical. he’ll throw a hand in the direction they’re traveling when someone asks, or in the vicinity of the thing that he’s asking to be handed. a toss of his head in irritation for the same reasons. the most clear gestures he makes convey violence. 

eirin only gestures when she’s too tired to talk or nonverbal. which instance it is will change the behavior significantly. nonverbal? serious. vigorous. controlled. tired? mostly incomprehensible. 

zolah is very concise. she’ll point a finger, make a fist, cross her arms and cock her hip. typically, slow meaningful movements to convey that she’s serious. or she’ll lazily wave a hand to shrug varric off, but even then, it’s only portrayed as being effortless. 

poppy talks with her hands a lot. very impulsive, high energy, largely incomprehensible. 

thank you for the ask! it was a great opportunity to flesh out some more kids!

[outofangband]

A few weeks after Niënor’s birth, Morwen and Aerin speak.

Snippet of cut your hand as willingly, a longer story I’m writing

CW: implied abuse, implied violence

“You should not have come.” Morwen opens the door and beckons the younger woman forward. Aerin all but rolls her eyes at the greeting but it is agitated, restless rather than disrespectful.

“I waited until all were asleep or senseless. I took the horse of a servant so none of the lords shall miss theirs.”  She spoke the word lords with a bitterness Morwen has rarely heard from her, “Might I at least reap the sparse freedoms it brings me to act a willing slave?”

“You might.”

“Have any been back?”

“Not since that man first rode here. But I know, or I fear, that they chance brief glimpses more often.”

“You fear wisely,” Aerin admits, “From what I have heard.”

Morwen will not coax further from her. Aerin would not hide from her any information that might aid them and Morwen cannot fairly demand more when she keeps back so much herself.

“They do not know of your daughter. And they do not know Túrin is gone. They still fear you as a witch. I hear them..” Morwen is again certain that this sentence is left unfinished as the younger woman decides that what she has heard is best left unsaid.

Aerin allows her discomfort to fade before finishing, “But I do not think it likely they shall return.” Yet of course being the unspoken finishing, “They fear you.”

Morwen sets down the belt she had been mending, suddenly agitated.

And when they deem it unwise to allow the Witchwife as she knows they call her, of the true lord to remain walking free? Breathing? Fear shall not stay their hands nor their blades.

She does not speak these words but Aerin must see their meaning in part on her face

Aerin did not fear Morwen, had never been afraid to speak plainly to her and that is why the slight widening of her eyes, the twitch of her lip brings more of a weight to Morwen than words could. Perhaps she is merely distraught, there is after all much happening.

“I am sorry,” the younger woman says quietly, “I do not mean to dismiss your plight.” Morwen rarely allows herself to feel the guilt she does now. The sincerity in Aerin’s words is genuine and Morwen thinks that had they been spoken in bitter mockery, it might have been easier to take. 

“I know you do not,” her voice softens, “Aerin, I know you do not think lightly of such. I should not bring future worries to you when it is you who are trapped in this present evil.”

Niënor was crying again, a strong, healthy wail that should be cause for relief.

The crying stops as it often does at night, Aerin’s head rests on Morwen’s shoulder. Soon, she thinks, she will have to rouse her. It is unwise for her to linger here, the trouble they would face if discovered would be catastrophic for both her and Morwen’s household.

Look I’m obsessed with Morwen being called Witchwife, we all know that, etc

(I love them so much. Morwen and Aerin’s relationship is my favorite relationship aside from that of Morwen and Húrin. I’m trying to write something lighter about them if there’s interest)

Here’s a snippet from when they’re about 17 and 16. I have thoughts on polyamory and communication between the three for the record though I also just have multiple verses

She had kissed her cheek as they sat to rest neath the red berry bushes that were not like the ones Morwen knew in her childhood. Morwen had tensed and brought on a flurry of apologies from the younger woman that only ended when she had laid a careful hand upon that of Aerin. The kiss might have been unexpected but it had not been unwanted

She had been lost in her thoughts as she wandered home, far less intentional and wary than she knew she usually was.

[penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories]

In The Tongues of Men and Of Angels

Image above from Cassius Corrigan's instagram

A/N: Here rests a short filth. (18+!) Please note before proceeding, however.

The conversation surrounding religion is nuanced and complicated. The motivation behind this fic was much more simple: a bitch saw Ewan Mcgregor as a hot priest and got to work. Although there is a religious backdrop, please be advised the following is smutty smut and is likely not the best read if you’re offended by heresy.

Also know if you don’t appreciate the power imbalance surrounding some stories like these, I don’t either, and this is a story of consenting adults on equal standing.

Pairing: Priest! Obi-Wan x female reader

Also note: unprotected sex (please be wise irl lovelies!)

The passcode to get in the backdoor is 1132. You know it has to be a scripture reference, but you’ve looked in every 11th book that had a 32nd verse and nothing met the explanation of “his favorite verse.” There’s irony, certainly, in the fact that had been your motivation to crack open the book.

There’s something dreary and heavy about the wood-panelled walls and old carpet of the hall that leads to his study, something about the place that doesn’t make your skin feel right, like the walls themselves rather than god would condemn what they witness.

The minute you open his door, you have to wonder if it’s the same place. The decor is just as outdated, just as heavy, but his smile takes up too much light for the oppressive room to have its power.

He closes his journal of notes when he sees you; he leaves the holy book open. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Must pleasure always be owed for?”

There’s only a brief flash of recognition of your verbiage’s implication before his practiced impassive expression washes him in neutrality. He gestures to one of the chairs in front of his desk in invitation. “Perhaps not.” Leaving his own chair, he takes the one next to you. “Tardiness, however, is almost always. You’re aware service starts in thirty minutes?��

You tap your phone to indicate the time. “Twenty-eight, actually.”

He doesn’t approach. No, that isn’t how it’s been between you two. It could be a multitude of things. The guilt, maybe, but no matter his profession that never seemed to fit him well enough for him to wear it with any conviction. Much more likely is him knowing that as well as this setup can be the stage for fetish, there’s far worse associated.

He waits for you to initiate, and you do so softly, even though you know he’ll meet you and more once you make contact.

There’s safety in this sacrilege, in his arms. He’s always seen to that.

You tip your forehead down to his, standing over where he’s seated, and he hums, closing his eyes.

He opens them again when you trace your hand down his face, trying to commit his features to the memory in your fingertips.

Down past his lips, the stubble on his jaw, the little bit of his neck not covered by clothing.

You slide your finger along the top of the hem. “Leave the collar.”

You’re not sure if the faint raise in brow is indicative of interest or if it’s a hint patronizing. You’re not sure which shoots heat down your spine.

Your thighs take their place on either side of his, your hands take their place in his hair, and it’s only then his move to action, long fingers tracing up your sides.

Is it playing with his hair in and of itself that gets the start? Or the thought that not even half an hour away is when he’ll need it back to its proper state for Mass? Where you’ll pretend to walk in once again, and greet him in passing with a slight nod and “Father Kenobi” before finding your seat. Could you ask to not clean him off of you? Could you leave his spend to run down your thigh throughout the service? Rub your thighs together under the sound of his voice teaching holiness?

Questions for later.

Now.

You bunch the hair at the back of his head to get his eyes up to yours.

“Be good, and I’ll take it off.”

It’s half a joke, half a promise.

He smiles like he has the exact plan on how to do just that either way.

Brushing his fingers at your temple, he asks, “Will you lie back for me then? On my desk?”

He helps you onto it, warm hands guiding your hips right to where he needs them and helps you out of your pants before kneeling, pressing kisses into your thighs.

The first kiss to your mound gives a full body shudder, and the second kiss to your lips knocks the arms supporting your upper body, making you lie back in truth. As his tongue parts your lips, your hands scrape his desk for something to anchor in, your head lolling to the side. Your vision allows nothing in focus with your heavily lidded eyes, but you can make out the shape of the book left open, the worn lettering of the title just enough.

There should be shame, you suppose. But you can’t muster any. Not when his tongue presses hot, open strokes to your clit. Not when he adds a thick finger and then another into you and you have to bite your arm to not cry out.

There’s nothing about this that wasn’t meant to be.

He stands again to get a better angle for his fingers, curling until he finds that spot inside you that has you soaking his fingers.

“Precious girl,” you hear him say.

When your arms feel some semblance of strength again, you push up to press your lips to his, gliding your tongue across his bottom lip, the taste of yourself still lingering.

He’s gentle, so gentle, but his movements are certain as he kisses you in fullness, one hand cupping the side of your face as the other gives gentle strokes to your now overly sensitive pussy.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips once you’ve pulled back just far enough to breathe, undoing his collar as promised. He’d be happy to just leave it at this, and he has many times before.

He nods, and your hand clashes against his at the fastenings of his pants, and you both give a small laugh.

A gentle push to his firm chest is all he needs to know to sit again, for you to straddle his lap and start to settle onto his cock.

You like to take your time for this part, letting yourself savor the stretch, the fullness, his noises he can never seem to completely bite off. But that’s when you have time.

It helps that you’re devastatingly wet for him, when you sink most of the way onto him in one motion. He lets out something between a shout and a snarl into the side of your neck, and you only worry briefly about the soundproofing of the walls. It’s hard to concentrate on such trivial things when he starts lightly biting the lobe of your ear. “Slow, darling.”

“Time,” is all the explanation you give for your defiance, but you wait for his nod to push down even more.

You’re fairly certain you hear him curse under his breath, and his fingers grip hard into your hips to steady you. Or maybe himself.

When he starts rolling his hips up, you know you can take him harder.

The wet smack of where your skin meets his fills the room, and it would be obscene if not for how sincere and full his eyes are as they look up at you.

You rest your cheek against his, trying not to shake with the overload of sensation.

You feel the tears before you see them, and you stop, instantly pulling back in concern, but he only smiles and shakes his head, brushing his fingers over your lips again.

He rolls up into you twice more and groans out his pleasure against your neck.

You hesitate to pull off of him, but he has to go. Time. He doesn’t seem to be ashamed, though. Shame wasn’t something he dealt in or cowered to. Does heaven know they have a traitor in their midst?

He kisses you sweetly and wipes the mess of both of you off his pants and hands. “Come to my house? Later? That we might have time. And that I needn’t clean you off my clothes?”

You nod, and you kiss him deeply once more.

He grabs his notes, his bible. “I’ll be thinking on you.”

*****

You can indeed feel his spend on your thighs as you listen to the message.

The multi colored light from the stained glass lights his hair in a halo-esque glow, and his voice fills the room and your heart.

He reads from Philipians, but he says the words without looking down to the book.

“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest…”

A quick scan of the room, and you notice the congregation is split, some with heads down reading their own text, some looking to him.

When you look back up, he’s looking directly at you.

“...whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

*****

1 Corinthians 13:2

“ If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”

[beels-burger-babe]

Obey Me Character Song Thoughts

***DISCLAIMER: These are my blind reactions to the song. They're my opinion and based off of my personal taste in music as well. You are free to agree or disagree with them as you please, just please no hate***

Lucifer / Arcadia :

Surprisingly, I really like the music in this. I don't usually like electronic music, but this one was nice. His voice isn't my favourite, but is still good. NOW THE LYRICS!! Oh dear. Oh my. Oh boy. I was not expecting to catch feelings for Lucifer today, sir. How dare you do this to me. Update: I just got to the second verse...He's a yandere. He is fucking yandere. He's still so full of himself as usual and I WANT TO PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE BUT I ALSO WANT TO KISS HIM GAAAAAAAH!!!!! LUCIFER YOU ASSHOLE! UPDATE UPDATE: FINAL VERSE! AND THEN THE PRICK GOES BACK TO BEING A ROMANTIC CHARMING LITTLE SHIT 😡😣😖 Final thoughts: I- I- this whole song was a rollercoaster. I love to hate lucifer and hate to love him. I really do. This song embodied that perfectly. I did enjoy the song though.

Mammon / Are You Ready? :

Opening thought. I am not ready. Very not ready. Mammon is amazing in that art 😍.

Okay, now being serious, I'm sorry Mammon. I adore you to BITS, like so so so much. But this is exactly the kind of EDM that I despise. BUT, I bore through it and kept listening. I don't hate his voice, but he's sing talking. He's not quite rapping, he's sing talking. So it's meh. FUCKING UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE: THE CHORUS!!!! THE MF CHORUS!!!! HE SINGS! HE CAN ACTUALLY SING (still not best but pretty good)?! AND THE MUSIC SOUNDS SO MUCH BETTER THERE WHEN IT'S SLOW- ... ... ... the auto-tune on his voice on that English line 😤 WHY?!! I WAS JUST GETTING INTO IT!!!

Lyrics time: Honestly, it feels like Mammon got drunk, picked up a mic and started singing to MC, and I mean that in the best way possible. He's being honest in a way we've never seen him be honest before, and he calls himself a tsundere 😂 I love it.

Now the chorus lyrics: I love the chorus. It's so Mammon and just perfect. I love it. The lyrics just- *sighs* it's that possessive side of him that makes him the dork that he is. Okay. t-the lyrics...the lyrics also give me MAJOR suggestive vibes and I'm just here like 😳😳😳 MaMmOn PlEaSe WhAt ArE YoU DoInG?!

Final thoughts: The lyrics are also quite repetitive, which is another pet peeve of mine. All in all, it's not bad. It's just not for me. I'm so sorry Mammon 😭😭😭 That being said, I think it suits Mammon fairly well. Not perfectly, but good.

Leviathan / My Chance:

Opening thoughts: THIS TITLE IS SO CUTE AND IT'S PERFECT FOR HIM uwu Also, the vintage game-esque music is just perfect for Levi's aesthetic. Like, the light piano mixed with it gives me Undertale vibes?? Even before he starts singing, I just think it's really cute and it makes me want to hug him. Again, I'm not in love with his voice, but it's still nice. I do enjoy it.

Lyrics: LEVI BABY ARE YOU OKAY?! SOMEONE GET THIS MAN A THERAPIST 😭😭😭

Chorus: It's so sad, but this is Levi's reality. This song embodies him and everything he is so so so well. It really is perfect for him. But seriously bro. Let me hug you. And then we're gonna work on your self-worth issues because oh boy That last verse though. Oh my goodness 🥺🥺 It is the very definition of pining.

AND THEN THE FINAL CHORUS!!! HE'S BEING SO HONEST ABOUT HIS ANXIETY AND I JUST- 😭😭😭😭 LEVIIIIIIIIII!!!

Final thoughts: *clears throat, wipes tears that are totally not there* Right. So it's obvious that I enjoy this one. It just screams Levi and suits him so well and it also just breaks my heart so...yeah.

Satan / Read My Heart:

The piano. THE 👏 FUCKING 👏 PIANO 👏 So beautiful! The fact that his song is so soft and slow when he himself is meant to represent something so strong and violent is simply poetic. There are moments where I love Satan's singing voice in this and there are moments where I don't like it as much. HIS VOICE IN THE CHORUS IS MY FAVOURITE 😭 So sweet. So just- I love him. I love him so much.

Lyrics: So honest, but I feel that this is almost like a letter from Satan of all the things he wishes he could say. Also, remember that dork who can't say love words out loud headcanon we talked about earlier today? He literally confirms here 🥰🥰 Aww Satan

Chorus: AGAIN! SO HONEST WITH HIS FEELINGS AND HIM TRYING TO KNOW HIMSELF 😭😭😭 It's just so beautiful Stunning. I love it. This one hits all the markers for me. I'm calling it now. I think his lyrics are my favourite, and possibly my favourite song in general. It's just such a beautiful love song. Filled with what he so desperately desires but also his fears and it's so honest it hurts.

Final thoughts: This one made me cry. Like, literally made me cry. It was just so beautiful and perfect. I mean, there's a sad line that uses cats as a metaphor 😭 It's fantastic. Amazing. I can't praise it enough. Where I feel everyone else so far (except poor Levi, poor baby) had something that implied...suggestive things, Satan is just so desperate for love. To feel and experience it and everything that comes with it, and it's just- I love it.

Asmodeus / Pomade:

I actually really really enjoy the music here. It's more pop than EDM and I appreciate that. It's nice. Asmo's voice is also really pleasant to listen to. There's just something about it. I like it a lot. When he holds his notes, it just has this amazing sound and I dunno. I just like it a lot! AND HIS FALSETTO!! HOLY SHIT! AMAZING

Lyrics: I mean... It's exactly what I'd expect from Asmo. It doesn't feel like it's being sung to the MC though. At least not at first. It almost feels like he's singing to an audience at the Fall or something.

Chorus: It's a little more personal, but I feel like we're still only getting that one side of Asmo. We're shown in the second season that he does have insecurities and that there's more to him than being self-obsessed, and I'm kind of disappointed that the song doesn't show that.

Second Verse: We're finally getting personal here. Okay. The table has been turned and now Asmo is finally talking about how he feels about MC and that's more I like it!

Final thoughts: Now that I've listened to the final verse and chorus, I GET IT NOW! It's a story. It's how Asmo first felt like all that was there for him and all he was made for was pleasing the audience. Then you came and it was just a game of trying to make you fall for him, just like he had been able to everyone else. And finally, him realizing that it's him who has become captivated by you and that he loves you! It's actually really sweet and I love that. Sound-wise, this song is fantastic! The music really compliments his voice and it all suits Asmo's character really well.

Beelzebub / Hungry Six-Pack:

So ya'll already know I adore Beel and this ROCK MUSIC AND HIS VOICE MADE ME SWOON! His voice! His voice is FANTASTIC! And the music IS AMAZING!!! I just love the guitar in it. It's (pardon me for this) it's just so damn sexy and I love it so much! THE BRIDGE OF THE SONG IS DAMN HOT OKAY?! I CAN'T GET OVER IT!

Lyrics: What I love about the lyrics is that they confirm my theory of Beel actually being physically impacted by his appetite. He says that it can cause him to get dizzy and I'm just here like 🥺🥺 We really get a sense here of how Beel is actually desperate to stop this appetite. He hates how it impacts him. He hates how it impacts those around him. And I just - 😭😭😭

Chorus: It fucking slaps! The up tempo is just *chefs kiss* and I love everything about it. And the words 😳 Damn Beel...Damn. i love him so much even though if you really think about it these words HURT

THE SECOND VERSE WITH DRUMS IN THE BACK JUST MAKES ME WANT TO JUMP AROUND IN A MOSH PIT! I LOVE THE SOUND OF THIS ONE SOOOOO MUCH! IT'S SO GREAT!

THEN IN THE LAST CHORUS WITH THAT HIGHER OPTION NOTE THAT HE HOLDS AND SHAKES AND I'M LIKE 😍😍😍 GOD I LOVE HIM SOOO MUCH

Final thoughts: As you can clearly see, I love this one. Now, lyrics-wise, I found a comment that really broke down the lyrics in terms of Beel's insecurity with his appetite and his sin and how he struggles with that and it made me appreciate the song all that much more and I just- I love this song. (The comment was left by Felix The Lemon on this if you don't understand the utter heartbreak of this song, please read this) Maybe it's my bias towards Beel. Maybe it's because it's rock. But this one, overall, is my favourite.

Belphegor / Dreamscape:

I love the almost lo-fi sound to it! It's perfect cause a lot of people use lo-fi to sleep. Very clever producers. Very clever. I both hate and love his voice at the same time and I DON'T KNOW WHY! Like it has a bit of a filtered sound to it, but what genuine sound I can hear through that filter is really really nice and I love it. I TAKE IT ALL BACK HIS VOICE IN THE CHORUS 😭😭😭 HE HAS MY FAVOURITE VOICE OF THE BROTHERS BY FAR! OH MY GOD IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL!

Lyrics: GAAAAAHHHHH!!!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! OKAY OKAY OKAY!!! So! These lyrics are so great because it's showing that soft side of Belphie that I adore! It's not his teasing side, it's the side that only Beel and MC really get to see and I just- I love it.

The whole "I will always wait for you" for some reason made me think of when he was stuck in the attic where literally the only thing he had to look forward to was MC coming to set him free and update him on how Beel was doing. And then afterward, he had to wait for them to be comfortable around him again because he knew that he messed up and he had to wait for their forgiveness. And then finally, Belphie has to wait for them to notice his feelings, amongst the obvious more showy feelings of his brothers and to hopefully maybe choose him 😭😭😭 SO GOOD

Second verse is his insecurities and I just ao;dusg;bfjnaduoh;szvbjxaui;dvkjx AAAAAAHHHHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH I CAN'T EVEN PUT IN TO WORDS!! WHY DO I LOVE THIS?!?!

FINAL THOUGHTS: THIS SONG ALONE HAS CAUSED ME TO FALL IN LOVE WITH BELPHEGOR ADU;SFBKJACDZS IT'S JUST SO PERFECT!!! His voice! The sound! The words! It has it all! I know I just said Beel's was my overall favourite, and I'm so so sorry Beelzebaby, but Belphie takes the cake. We get his anger, his sadness, his fondness, HIS DESPERATION, IT JUST HAS SO MUCH EMOTION!!!! I CAN'T GET OVER THIS SONG!

~~~~~~~

The songs were all incredible and I love them to bits. I feel like I know the brothers better know and I know have more feelings for Belphie than I know what to do with, so there's that 😅😅 If you're still here reading this, thanks for joining me on this chaotic journey and dealing with my bullshit. Love you guys ❤❤❤

[modern-inheritance]

Why Selena left Murtagh behind (Modern Inheritance Lore)

Trigger warning for discussion of child abuse and injuries to a child. Thanks a lot, Morzan, you dick. 

I recently got an ask about my headcanons on what it would have been like if both Murtagh and Eragon were in Carvahall from @somebooksbelonginthesinbin. And that got me thinking. 

I was wondering about why (besides the whole separated from him thing and a ton of other stuff I’m not prepared to discuss here yet) on this green earth Selena didn’t bring Murtagh with her when she disappeared to Carvahall. Selena is said to have changed not only because of Brom, but also because she became a mother. She obviously loved Murtagh. Selena was powerful in her own right, she could have taken Murtagh through influencing his caretakers, even by force if she had to, but she didn’t. 

Just to preface again, this is my Modern Inheritance AU. Though this could also explain some of it in canon (if Paolini ever gave us a reliable timeline !@#$…), I’m just going to say it’s only true for my Modern Inheritance version. Again, TO BE ABUNDANTLY CLEAR, my AU versions here, not messing with canon.

What if Selena had a reason beyond fear of Morzan, fear of being found out? Something besides not being able to physically get to Murtagh, to take him from his nurse? Something beyond the shuddering thought that she may have already thought him too tainted by his father? 

What if Murtagh would have died if he traveled with her?

We know Morzan threw Zar’roc at Murtagh as a child. Murtagh is 3-4 years older than Eragon, and it’s pretty much impossible (no, I am NOT going to check) for a child at 1-2 years old surviving a literal sword being thrown at them (factoring Morzan’s strength and enraged, drunken state at the time, the weight of the sword, size of the child, etc. oh godfuckingdammit I’m trying to run the physics in my head again I have PROBLEMS, THIS IS WHY I NEVER TOUCH THE PRE-ERAGON MORZAN - SELENA FAMILY TREE), then I think we can assume that incident happened fairly close to the point that Selena disappeared from the estate (Murtagh said the incident happened when he was at the least 3 years old when telling Eragon of his life). We could even say it may have been the event that triggered Selena’s final decision to leave, out of conviction that such a thing would not happen to her next child.

Murtagh says a nearby healer saved his life. Considering the placement of his scar (No! Ket, down, stop thinking about the effects of growth on scar tissue and if the scar would ‘size up’ with him shhhh stop itstopitstopityouhaveenoughtoworkonrightnow), I think damage to his actual vertebrae and spinal cord are well within reason. For anyone not an elf well versed in biology or a Rider with similar education (I’m talking strength/stamina wise, not calling humans worthless mind you. We stan human ingenuity and tenacity here at MIC!), this would likely not be a one and done healing session. This could have taken days, even weeks, of stitching nerves back together and realigning and healing bone so that Murtagh wouldn’t have debilitating nerve damage, pain, and growth problems as he continued to develop. This focus on the internal damage could also be a reason why Murtagh still has a scar, as the surface wound was managed but the internal injuries considered more pressing and required access to them for an extended period.

What if Selena’s one window of opportunity to leave before she began showing undeniable signs of pregnancy was while Murtagh was still undergoing this healing? There was no guarantee that Morzan would be gone for long while chasing down Saphira’s stolen egg. If Selena waited too long then it could trap not only Murtagh and herself but the then unborn Eragon. 

I think Selena would have made the only decision she could have in that situation, though she likely hated it. She really, truly loved Murtagh, enough that his birth was the start of her true name unraveling. To leave him behind likely hurt her immensely, especially with the possibility that the same man that maimed him could return and hurt him again. But to move Murtagh at that stage would have led to paralysis at the very least, with death not a far stretch from that. 

So, there’s my reasoning as to why Selena left Murtagh, at least in Modern Inheritance lore. This of course leaves open a lot more lore concerning Murtagh’s recovery, something I could go into further depth with (I have some experience with a family member recovering from spinal injuries) if anyone wants to see some more Murtagh centric stuff around this. 

Original ask from @somebooksbelonginthesinbin will be answered in the next few days. More asks, comments, questions, concerns are greatly appreciated! Cheers mates!

[honeypirate]

Karaoke Night with Hinawa, Obi, Viktor

Song for Hinawa - Song for Obi - Song for Viktor

I wrote this a while ago and found it in my drafts

Hinawa tag list: @soft-citrus-central also tagging @sabrinamidoriya01 who encouraged me to post it :)

Hinawa -

The crowd cheers when they call your name, the karaoke bar packed with your company as well as a few people from the seventh and fifth as well as Tamaki’s friend Juggernaut.

You take the microphone from the announcer and they queue up the lyrics on the screen before you and you feel your hands shake as you laugh a little before the music starts. You’ve been practicing this song because it’s your favorite jazzy song and you just know hinawa will like it.

You take a deep breath as the music starts and you close your eyes, tuning out the rest of the bar as the sounds of Billie Holiday’s orchestra reach every ear.

Hinawa was watching you this whole time, smiling when he heard the music, taking a drink from his glass as everything else in the room disappears in his eyes, there is only you.

“My days have grown so lonely, For you I cry, For you, dear, only Why haven't you seen it? I'm all for you body and soul” Your voice throughout the bar quiets down every conversation. Everyone turning to look up at you and listen to your soft voice singing this song like it was made for you to sing.

“I spend my days in longing, I'm wondering why, It's me you're wronging, Oh, I tell you I mean it, I'm all for you, body and soul” you’re swaying on stage, your eyes still closed as everyone hangs on your every word. Hinawa’s heart is racing as he watches you sing one of his favorite songs. He didn’t even know you liked jazz and you were fairly close friends.

You open your eyes and look around the room, your cheeks flushing when you realize that everyone is paying attention to you. Your eyes land on Hinawa at your table beside Obi, his eyes filled with stars and you can’t look away as you sing

“I can't believe it, It's hard to conceive it, That you'd throw away romance, Are you pretending? It looks like the ending, Unless I can have one more chance to prove, dear, My life a hell you're making, you know I'm yours for just the taking, I'd gladly surrender, Myself to you, Body and soul”

Obi is slack jawed and grinning the whole time, the whole house staring at you and quiet, but you were too busy looking into Hinawa’s eyes to notice anything else. You finish the song, singing it right to him, hoping somehow he will know it’s for him.

When the music ends, the bar erupts into applause and cheers, Hinawa stands with a smile on his lips and claps for you, bring his fingers to his lip to blow a loud whistle. You hear chants of your name and you laugh, feeling embarrassed and full of adrenaline. You can feel your face heat as you make your way off the stage.

You bring your fingers to your face, hoping to hide some of the blush. You make your way to the crowd to the bar and ask for a water bottle before making your way outside to get some air and cool down, feeling Hinawa behind you.

“That was.. wonderful” he says softly and you take a sip of your water, your heart fluttering. “Thank you Hinawa” you say and he smiles, taking a step towards you “I didn’t know you liked jazz music” he says and you chuckle “I’m full of surprises” you say and he chuckles “I believe that”

After a moment of silence he reaches out and tucks your hair behind your ear “did you sing that song for me?” He asks, bluntly. You feel your face heat as you look down to the ground with a shy smile “I .. I mean. If you liked it then yes” he takes your chin gently in his hand and tilts your face up “I loved it.” He admits and leans down, his lips beside your ear “I’m all for you, body and soul” he whispers before he presses his lips to yours.

Obi-

His cheers for you were louder than anyone in the whole bar. He only had one beer so far but he was so excited you were finally going up to sing. He heard your voice every once in a while when you would sing while you showered and it would echo out into the hall. He knows how wonderful you can sing so he’s been trying to convince you to go up there and show everyone what you can do.

The man announces your name and you stream quietly as you walk up the stairs, taking the microphone from the guy and standing in front of the screen with the lyrics.

You nod at the guy on the computer to your left and the music starts, most conversations in the crowd quieting down.

Your eyes are focused on the words even though you know every one to the rock ballad you take a breath and sing as the adrenaline builds in your body.

The music started and Obi’s breath catches in his throat. He once had a conversation with you about how he loved this song, he couldn’t help but feel like you were singing this to him.

“I should have known better, Than to let you go alone, It's times like these, I can't make it on my own, Wasted days, and sleepless nights, An' I can't wait to see you again. I find I spend my time, Waiting on your call, How can I tell you, babe, My back's against the wall I need you by my side To tell me it's alright Cause I don't think I can take anymore”

It’s a fairly popular karaoke song in the bar but you’re killing it like no other before you. The chorus starts and you look up to where Obi is sitting. Your heart skips and races along when you see how big his grin is! How his eyes are filled with admiration and awe! He’s standing up and making his way from his table in the middle of the room as you sing the chorus

The moment your eyes met his he knew, this song, you were singing it to him. And even if you weren’t he’s taking this as a sign to ask you out.

“Is this love that I'm feeling? Is this the love that I've been searching for? Is this love or am I dreaming This must be love 'Cause it's really got a hold on me, A hold on me”

he reaches the front of the stage and your eyes are locked as he smiles brightly, singing along to the song with you. Your smile grows as you feel like you’re singing the song together. When it ends you don’t even register the applause and cheers because you’re too focused on the man in front of you and the way your heart is racing.

He holds out his hands and you laugh before stepping forward and placing your hands on his shoulders as he grabs your hips. You go to hop to the ground, gasping when he just holds you against him like you weighed nothing.

“I’d love to kiss you” he whispers with a smile and you feel your cheeks warm as your hands move from his shoulders to his cheeks as you press your lips to his with a smile.

Viktor-

You grab his hand “let’s go. Do karaoke with me” you looked at him with such excitement he could not say no. His heart raced with your hand in his, as he nodded “yeah o-okay!” He says and stands tripping over his own feet as he follows behind you.

“We’re gonna sing “The Next Time I Fall” by Peter Cetera and Amy Grant” you say excitedly and squeeze his hand, like you were in a relationship with him and not his coworker that he was helplessly and unrequitedly in love with.

“You’re up next” they say and you grin up at him as they hand you microphones. You drop his hand then and he feels it like a loss to his soul but follows you up the stairs to the stage.

“So you’re the blue and I’m the yellow” you say and he nods, his eyes nervous but he really wanted to do this for you. The music stars and he takes a deep breath as he waits. He’s heard this song from you at the lab before so he’s pretty familiar already.

His voice sounds out, nervous but actually quite decent. “Love, like a road that never ends. How it leads me back again to heartache I don’t understand”

Your voice next and your heart races as you get goosebumps, smiling at how fun this was “Darling I put my heart upon the shelf till the moment was right and I tell myself”

He sings the words, feeling like he’s singing this song straight to you “Next time I fall in love

You reach out your pinky and hook his as you sing with him “I’ll know better what to do

You stop singing as he keeps singing, looking over at you and grasping your hand, lacing your fingers together. “Next time I fall in love

You join in for the ooos, your cheeks heating up as he keeps singing.

“The next time I fall in love it will be with you”

The music fills your ears as you wait for your next verse, he looks at you with a shy smile as he squeezes your hand, his pale cheeks flushed.

Your eyes are locked to his as you the sing the words, this was one of your favorite songs so you know the words already, didn’t need the screen. “Oh now as I look into your eyes, well I wonder if it’s wise to hold you like I’ve wanted to before”

his heart races, he could have sworn you said that just to him. You were telling him you wanted to hold him. His queue is up but he’s not paying attention, he’s looking at you earnestly as you smile softly up at him.

You chuckle and wink at him then pick up where he was supposed to, without looking away from him “-thinking that you might be the one who breaths life in this heart of mine” he laughs and pays attention then, knowing with only a small amount of doubt, that you were singing to him. His feelings weren’t unrequited. He sang with so much passion after that, really singing it to you.

You finish the song together, meeting all the cues as his hand holds yours and your cheeks are both warm.

They crowd cheers and you can hear laughs from your team and he leads you down the stairs and outside of the bar.

Once you’re out I the fresh air and quiet night, he pulls you into a hug “that was amazing” he says into your hair and you laugh, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight “so you’ll let me hold you like I’ve been wanting to?” You whisper into his chest and he sighs “please” he says with a smile in his voice “anytime you want”

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week 6 - Pets

Summary: Saren is the cutest little hamster in the world if you ask his owner. However, he is also territorial as fuck and he WILL bite. Grunt’s about to learn that one the hard way. Rule for the wise kid: don’t stick your finger in a hamster’s face.

---

“Shepard.”

“Grunt… hello there.”

Ok… he’d bite. Who brought Grunt up?

Honestly, Alistair was more than a little confused right then. He had expected once they got back to the shuttle that he and the young krogan wouldn’t see much of each other. After all, he was pretty sure he bored Grunt – except for that first time with the gun. Yet there he was, standing in the entrance to his quarters, looking rather uncomfortable.

Was he being punked?

“Still in the elevator, Grunt.”

Bo’s voice called from over his shoulder. Much like a good son would, he shuffled to the side to allow her entrance. Even as large as she was, she was a little on the small side compared to the krogan. That didn’t matter of course – she was well versed in taking them down. It was why she had gone 25-0 in the ring back on Omega.

Well, at least that answered who let him up. Still didn’t answer anything else, mind you. Alistair was left watching as Bo sidled past her son and entered into his quarters. Luckily for him, his sister was direct: whatever was on her mind, he’d hear about it soon enough.

She looked around the room for a second. “Surprised Mandibles isn’t up here. Aren’t you two planning to- “

“He had calibrations to run.” Alistair’s cheeks flushed as he rushed to cut her off. Grunt snickered behind her – asshole. “Anyway, what’s brought you two up here? Everything alright after Tuchanka?”

Nothing like a krogan puberty ritual to get the blood pumping after all. Alistair was going to be having nightmares about that thresher maw for weeks, and that was if he was lucky. On the bright side, he was pretty sure it counted as exposure therapy. That was fine by him; he hadn’t done his therapy homework yet and with his workload he doubted it would happen at all. His therapist was understanding, but she was also a stickler. At least he had something to turn in the next time he saw her.

Much to his surprise, Grunt looked uncomfortable. He shifted from foot to foot, eyes darting around. Dare he say it, but to him he almost looked embarrassed. Apparently, krogan could do that as well as anyone else.

“I could have just looked on the extranet, Shepard…”

Bo shook her head, clearly amused by this. “What’s better than a real-world example? You asked about him anyway.”

She turned back to Alistair. “Grunt wanted to meet Saren after hearing you talk so much about him. Is the little guy awake or do we have to come back later?”

…

“You want to meet Saren?”

His gaze slid from the embarrassed krogan teenager to the wall on the far left. Even before he looked, Alistair had known. He knew the sound of bedding shifting anywhere, practically heard it in his sleep. That alone made him get up and take the trip to what at one time had been an aquarium.

Good thing for him he hated fish – it was perfect to make a hamster enclosure out of.

The theme that month was jungle. Among the scattered green bedding and wood chews, he found a little ball of white sitting next to his food dish, digging through the contents. At the sound of his footsteps, two red eyes focused straight on him, and some food went right into well-adapted cheek pouches.

Saren was a practical hamster like that.

“Hey, little guy.” Alistair smiled as he opened the enclosure and put his hands flat. A few moments later, the hamster was climbing up to rest between his palms, just like they had trained to do. Then he was out, held close as the Spectre returned to his desk. “Someone wants to meet you if that’s ok.”

Saren of course didn’t answer – much as breeding had improved, sentience wasn’t on the list of traits – but his eyes were bright and he seemed calm enough as he sat there, chewing at a seed from his pouch. These were good hamster introduction traits, especially considering who the interested party was.

Grunt didn’t look too impressed though. He gave the hamster a rather blunt look, then glanced over at Bo. When he didn’t get the reaction, he might have been hoping for, it went from pink to red Shepard.

Talk about being in the hot seat.

“Is it supposed to be so small?”

Alistair chuckled as he stroked Saren’s tiny head with his thumb. “Well, the European wild varieties back on earth are much bigger, but they max out at about a foot long. Saren’s a Syrian male, so he’s a fairly decent size all things considered.”

Grunt probably didn’t care about most of that – it wasn’t exactly new. However, his eyes never left the hamster. Saren either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care; he was too busy on chewing away at his seed to pay attention to the krogan. It was a feeling Alistair knew well.

He loved the little guy, but sometimes he ran hot and cold with affection.

“If you want to see him up close, come over slowly. Hamsters are prey animals, so he’s easily spooked.”

Much to his surprise, Grunt listened. He approached the desk slowly, eyes never leaving the small ball of fur in his commanding officer’s hands. He was interested, even if he wasn’t showing it on his face. No surprises there ��� kids loved hamsters, didn’t matter the species or the fact they were born fully grown and ready to kill. They just did.

“Why did you name it Saren?”

Now Alistair was chuckling again as he watched the hamster continue to chew. “You’re going to have to ask Bo about that, she’s the one who got him for me.”

Bo’s answer came quickly as she observed the introduction. “They said he was a biter and ate a cage mate. Made me think of the real Saren.”

Well, made sense he supposed…

“They eat each other?” Grunt’s tone was definitely more interested with that. Now they were getting somewhere. “That means they fight.”

Alistair nodded as he made sure Saren stayed in his hands. “Yep. They’re fiercely territorial. It’s why you have to house them separately. Hamsters kept together can fight, sometimes to the death even. This little guy had some healed scars when I got him, so he’s been through it. I guess Omega and the Citadel gift shop share husbandry tendencies…”

His voice trailed off. Grunt hadn’t taken his eyes off Saren the entire time he had been talking. There was curiosity there and a raw interest. That made the Spectre smile as he slowly brought his hands within range, eyeing his hamster’s body language the entire time.

“You can say hello if you want, he’s pretty calm right now.”

To his credit, the krogan didn’t retreat. However, there was some definite anxiety there. He briefly glanced back at Bo, and then he returned to keeping his eyes on Saren. Finally, he managed a brief nod and came a little closer.

“Do I just stick my hand out?” A finger got a little too close to Saren. Before Alistair could warn him, the hamster eyed it and did what he always did when someone got into his space without proper caused. Tiny teeth were soon chomped down hard in the classic signs of hamster bite.

It probably wouldn’t hurt a krogan, mind you. They were tough.

“Grunt, don’t pull your hand away. He’ll go with you and he’ll fall.”

The krogan shot Saren a dirty look as he watched the hamster bite down. “That does nothing to me, rodent.”

Saren, naturally, didn’t care. Alistair’s hands were part of his territory. More importantly, Grunt was big and round. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the hamster thought he was an overgrown member of his species. Add a little fur, and he could honestly see it. He’d never say that of course – Wrex would hate it.

“He’s just defending what’s his. All he has is his teeth.” Alistair kept his voice level as he gently rubbed the hamster’s head with his thumb. “Come on, buddy, he’s not going to hurt you. You can let go now.”

After a few more moments, Saren let go. He went back to his abandoned seed, but his eyes never left the krogan. Grunt was in a similar mood, eyeing up the hamster with a rather brutal gaze. At least he had the good sense to take his hand back, the offended digit tucked away.

Bo’s voice carried over the chaos. “So… what did you learn, Grunt?”

“Don’t stick my finger in an animal’s face…”

There was a definite sulk to his tone. It was strangely cute, in a weird sort of way. Meanwhile, Alistair was just glad he hadn’t pulled back. Saren may have trusted him, but he would’ve gone for a ride. Then he would’ve had to eject Grunt out the airlock if anything happened.

Was he biased towards his hamster? Absolutely.

“It’s his way of making sure his space is safe. I used to get bit a lot when we were establishing ground rules.” He stood, crossing the room to return Saren to his enclosure in case he was overwhelmed. Much to his surprise, Saren didn’t burrow under the substrate as he often did to hide his food. Instead, he stayed on top, eyeing Grunt. “Huh… how about that.”

Grunt gave Saren the exact same look. “Your hamster’s hungry for battle.”

In another surprise, the krogan smirked. “Shepard was right, Saren is appropriate for a warship.”

Well… there was a stamp of approval he hadn’t seen coming. Maybe pigs would start flying…

Alistair at least managed a nod. “He’s territorial, it’s part of the breed.”

“Don’t sell the little guy short, he took a krogan on full force.” Bo was definitely amused as she surveyed Grunt’s finger. There was a definite scuff there – Saren had left his mark. “Damn, little guy bit down hard. The hell are you feeding him, concrete?”

Oh… just lab block, some seeds, extra protein if the mix didn’t come up right…

“He’s got a nasty bite; I’ll give him that.” And he was also done with the room – Saren was soon digging back under the substrate. “He’ll be out for a while; he has food to hide and some sleep to catch up on.”

His gaze found Grunt soon after. “Well, I hope he lived up to your expectations. If you want to come visit again, just let me know.”

“As long as you don’t try to convert him to the gospel of hamster.”

He made no promises there. Anyone who could be swayed, he would sway. That’s what it meant to have a hamster as cute as Saren.

Still, at least Grunt didn’t seem too upset about the bite as he nodded. Maybe it had taught him not to fuck with small animals -a win in his book. At any rate, it felt as though things were ending.

“I might.” And then he was heading to the door. Soon he was gone, leaving Bo and Alistair alone. As soon as he was out of hearing range, the larger of the two Shepards slumped down on his cough, doing her best not to laugh.

She did alright, but he failed miserably.

“God, that was fucking adorable.” Alistair wiped a tear from his eye as he chuckled. “I mean, apart from when I thought Grunt was going to toss my hamster.”

Bo nodded, snickering a little. “Yeah, he’s been wanting to come up for a while but he couldn’t figure out how to ask you. I agreed to be a buffer after it took him a half hour to spit it out. You might have just converted him to the dark side.”

Apparently, he was a sith now. Just because his face glowed red…

But still. Alistair nodded as he glanced back at the enclosure. He could see Saren’s tail from a gap in the bedding – he was pressed against the glass, no doubt making himself comfortable for a long nap. He’d had a long day after all – he’d just taken on a krogan.

“I think if he’s a little slower next time, they’ll get along just fine. Maybe I’ll give him a couple seeds to try.”

Baby steps, after all. Rome wasn’t built in a day and becoming friends with a hamster was just as detailed and complex. If Grunt put the effort in, he could see them getting along great. Hell, he might even get a new Saren sitter out of it.

He needed one of those. His normal ones went on missions went with him half the time.

“Thanks for letting him try. I knew Saren would be tough enough to handle him, little dude’s from Omega after all.”

Terminus system, born and bred – it was in his DNA. He’d never be as sweet as some hamsters, but that was part of his charm. It made their moments together even more special in his mind, honestly. He’d managed to get an Omega resident to let him pet him – that was a win in his book.

“Just let me know the next time he wants to come up.” Alistair returned to his desk – he still had work to do. “Now, unless you want to work on these reports…”

And just like that, he was alone as Bo beat a quick retreat out the door. He shook his head, chuckling once more as he went back to his reports. Still, he kept an eye on the glass enclosure across from him. Somewhere inside, the toughest hamster Omega ever bred was enjoying his rest. Maybe he was dreaming of fighting krogan, who knew?

One thing was for sure – they had definitely started on Grunt’s conversion to the dark side. Excellent. He had wanted an apprentice one day.

[welllpthisishappening]

Hello there, I see you're back on blue-line drabbles! I love them, I am obsessed with this universe. I don't know if I ever came back to say hi after I read all your big fics, but somehow I liked each even better than the last! I don't know how that's possible! But anyway, I think one of the best signs of a good writer/good story is when you're not ready to leave the world once you've finished, and Blue Line is one of the few fanfics I've read where even well after I've finished it, (cont)

(cont) I want to keep living in it and I end up writing my own fic of it in my head (strange, I know). Anyway, for whatever reason, I got really invested in Roland and Lizzie's relationship. Like, how did they end up dating after knowing each other for literally Lizzie's entire life? How did the adults react? Do you have any Lizzie/Roland stories up your sleeve? They would not go unread :)

————

Hello, yes, listen, this ask has lived rent free™ in my head since I first got it and I cannot properly convey how absolutely, goddamn wonderful it is. I am a broken record of outdated references , but it continues and will always amaze me that people are not only interested in Blue Line (more than three years!!! after I originally started posting) but are also interested in other characters in the story who are, for all intents and purposes, original characters at this point. Like the overall size my heart becomes when reading something like that could potentially cause a serious medical condition.

But, like, in a nice way.

So thank you, thank you, thank you. It genuinely warms the cockles of my entire soul. And, like, if you wanna share those fic ideas of the fic, you’ll never hear me say no. Just like I will never turn down the opportunity to write more stuff. Which is what’s under the cut. This stuff includes:

Roland and Lizzie’s first kiss, what I hope is some legitimate banter, more kissing, obvious flirting, and Roland being something of a sap.

Also, uh, it’s entirely possible that I have also already written: Roland and Lizzie’s first “I love you,” their wedding and some other stuff where their kid is involved. Seriously, guys, I am always down to write other relationships in this ‘verse.

————

It was, she figured, something almost passably close to, sort of resembling, definitely inching somewhere nearer to—

Assured. 

Unavoidable. 

Inexorable

Inevitable. 

That was a bad word. That last word. The third one was pretty impressive, honestly. Vocabulary, wise. She’d have to remember that one later. The last one, though. Made teeth Lizzie wasn’t even aware she possessed ache as she ground them together, a pronounced tension in her jaw that was likely affecting her shoulders as well. That word. An awful word. Boasted less-than-positive connotations, letters practically dripping with lack of self-control and overtly aggressive infatuation, but if the world expected her not to be a little in love with Roland Locksley by the time she turned fourteen and noticed that slight indentation in his right cheek every time he smiled, well, then the world had another thing coming. 

Dimple, that was the appropriate description. Another word. More words. Too many words. All of them bouncing off the slope of her skull and scratching at the back of her brain, nearly distracting her from what should have been the very pleasant buzz lingering beneath whatever biological thing made up her top and bottom lips. 

Which were parted in an emotion very similar to overwhelming surprise. 

That was stupid. 

The whole thing was stupid. God, maybe she was stupid. No, that wasn’t true. She’d made Dean’s List last semester. Stupid was—

A stupid word, really. Despite the blush rising in her cheeks and the wide eyes practically boring into her soul, bated breath that didn’t make any noise because that was what bated entailed, and no one else glanced in their direction. Not once. No one else noticed. 

That the whole world had flipped upside down.

Or right-side-up, maybe. Depending on how the next five minutes or so went. 

Because the last two minutes and twelve seconds, give or take, had seen Roland Locksley tilt his head and let his eyes flutter closed before his mouth found hers for the very first time — at midnight for God’s sake. On New Year’s Eve. Or New Year’s Day, she supposed. His parents were standing on the other side of the room.

Suggesting that Lizzie had ever been just a little in love with Roland was a rather monumental lie. 

As far as those things went. 

“So, uh—” she started, only to find blood in her mouth. From her teeth. Wayward and unpredictable, as they were. Biting down on the side of her tongue and Lizzie hated going to the dentist. Doing irreparable damage to her teeth on what was now legitimately New Year’s Day, in the middle of an annual party, was not on her schedule. 

Metaphorical as it might have been. 

She liked schedules. Had plans. Focus, even. People always said that about her — how focused she was, liked to throw around the word drive with startling regularity, as if they were amazed she wasn’t simply willing to rest on her laurels or the pair of last names she proudly toted around with her. As if Lizzie expected doors to swing open on a glance. 

Rather than consistently preparing herself to knock them down. 

She liked the challenge of it all. Appreciated the way disbelief always spiked something in her blood, and that was likely equal parts genetic predisposition and a product of her childhood, but right now, Lizzie was simply prepared to fight for the schedule she’d never allowed herself to mention to anyone else before and it wasn’t like they weren’t friends. 

Talked outside the group chat, even. 

That meant something. Definitely meant something. Had to mean something. Her lips felt like they’d been doused in liquid nitrogen. 

She didn’t know all the scientific properties of liquid nitrogen, but it always made that rather impressive cloud of steam-type stuff on cooking shows. So, it seemed very likely that it did something similar to cause whatever was happening in the region directly surrounding her mouth. Buzzing and tingling, and whatnot. 

When had Roland last blinked? Lizzie couldn’t remember. That would have been impressive in any other situation. Right now, it was sort, kind of, totally— Pissing her off. 

Color dotted his cheeks, no sign of the goddamn dimple because he wasn’t smiling, presumably couldn’t do that when it was clear he was so intent on pulling his lips into his mouth, and that felt a little insulting. Her tongue had just been in that mouth. 

Lizzie was fairly confident in the abilities of her tongue, so she wasn’t all that pleased to be replaced by a pair of lips that could have been doing much better work against the side of her neck. 

“If you sit here right now and tell me that you are,” Lizzie lifted a finger, “one, sorry,” another finger, “two, anything even remotely resembling regretful,” another finger, wiggling close enough to Roland’s nose to make him just a bit cross-eyed, “or, three, too old for me, I will throw my heel at that bruise I know exists on the back of your left calf.”

His lips twitched. 

He really had impossible eyelashes. Seemingly made so he could glance up from underneath them, to meet Lizzie’s steely expression with what she refused to believe could be cautious hope. Passable optimism, maybe. She’d have to look up what liquid nitrogen did, later. 

“I’m standing.” “I hate you.”

“You wanna go in order, or how do you want to work this?” “Where else are you bruised?” Roland laughed softly, a shift of his shoulders and tiny burst of air between barely parted lips. Feeling that tiny burst meant they were standing very close to each other. How they were standing remained another mystery. 

One of those great ones, Lizzie figured. The kind referenced when people talked about the sweeping potential of life and love and— Ah, fuck. 

“Please don’t threaten to attack me anywhere else,” he muttered, before quickly adding, “you gotta know this was not my end game, Liza.” Narrowing her eyes did nothing to temper the…tempest. Swirling in her gut. Threatening the back of her throat. Eating away at vocal cords and vocal boxes and the structural integrity of her entire goddamn larynx. Possibly her tongue, too, just to be especially efficient. 

“Really? Might’a been mine, actually.”

She’d always liked his eyes. 

How they could widen, and it wasn’t like...a normal brown. Nothing about the way he looked was ever dull. Drifted toward regularly excited, and the sparkles were probably a figment of her over-active teenage imagination, but Lizzie liked to think sometimes the sparkle came from her. Because of her, even. When she’d call because he always wanted to hear about her latest lecture and he’d call because sometimes Western swings were exhausting and loneliness-inducing and—

She knew. 

He knew. 

They knew each other.   

Grand scheme, the sparkle-prone eyes still weren’t particularly close to the dimple. On the list of things Lizzie liked. What left butterflies fluttering in her stomach and her heart hammering against her chest. Sparkle was probably a solid fourth. Behind the precise way his curls fell toward his eyebrows when he didn’t have time to get his hair cut. Which rarely happened during the season. Right now, it was happening right now. Well-defined strands that Lizzie knew felt even smoother than she’d ever theorized between her fingers, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that information. 

Obsess over it, probably. 

For at least the next week, or so. 

Still. Eyes. Eyelashes. Too long and too bright, and that was the wrong description order and she was starting to teeter. On the edge of a rather dramatic free-fall. Into feelings and possibility, and this was way too dramatic. For both of them. 

“Don’t do that,” she mumbled, a scrunch of her nose that apparently demanded his thumb. Brushing against the bridge, and there wasn’t any caution there. No obvious fear or concern. For the way it left Lizzie’s lungs pinched, and there must have been a limit. 

To everything her internal organs could cope with in a limited span of time. 

“What was the last one on the list?” She swallowed. “Too old.” “Yuh-huh.” “Pretty flimsy as far as excuses go. You realize I’m not asking you to marry me right now, right?” He choked. On what, she wasn’t entirely sure. Only that it made her stomach heave and her teeth dig into her lower lip, and that was— “Because I know I said, end game,” Lizzie continued, giving in to the need to fill empty space with the sound of her own voice, “but that sounds like several pop culture references all at once, and you know how much I—”

“Hate to come across as disingenuous.” “Mattie’s the pop culture reference machine, anyway.” “Please don’t talk about Matt when I keep thinking about how much I want to kiss you again.” Her eyes, that time. Widened. Bugged. Did something unnatural. “Yeah?” “You’re kidding me, right?” “You’re not an old man.” Rolling his eyes, Roland’s tongue dragged across the front of his teeth. To torture her, apparently. “I was in college when you were a freshman in high school.” “Yuh-huh.” “Liza.” “Nah, nah,” Lizzie shook her head. Crossed her arms. Tried to stand up to her full height, but even the heels didn’t do much to add to the overall intimidation factor. Roland was doing an awful job of fighting off his smile. “Pulling out ancient nicknames is not—” “—It’s not a nickname; it’s literally letters in your name.” “Nick,” she leaned forward, “name. All personal-like.”

Making mistakes was not something she enjoyed very much. It was that Jones competitive streak. Plus, the Vankald stubborn streak. Created a monster of determination, who knew what she wanted, and feeling Roland’s fingers graze her cheek as a strand of hair hung limply in the minimal space between them was the result of Lizzie’s mistaken movement. 

Even as much as she might have wanted it. 

Goosebumps prickled her arms. Stole whatever oxygen she’d managed to get in the last forty-six seconds, or so. Her eyes fluttered. Head tilted. Towards the touch and the warmth, and for someone who spent so much time on the ice, he really was impossibly warm. 

“This is your fault.”

He didn’t move his fingers. Cupped her cheek, instead. “You were doing that eyebrow thing.” “Expand on that for me.” “Lifting ‘em. Happens sometimes. When you’re listening intently. Like you’re a little amazed by new information. They’re these stupid little arches on your face. Drives me nuts.” “The compliment was in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.” “I am so much older than you, Liza.” “Shouldn’t’a played out a bunch of teenage daydreams at once, then.” She was legitimately worried about the state of his tongue. Barely biting back her laugh, Lizzie let her eyes lift. To find Roland gaping at her, drooped shoulders and puppy-dog eyes. And that goddamn dimple. “C’mon, this isn’t...do you think I haven’t made out with people before?” “Wouldn’t classify what we just did as a makeout.” “No?” His eyes darkened. Shivering was probably not a good move, right? Right. Definitely. She wasn’t shivering. It was just...January. And inside. With dozens of people around them. “I would not, no,” Roland said, and the drop in overall volume was some sort of trick. Or, something. 

“How many people do you think you’ve made out with? Ballpark it for me.” “No.” “Is the issue a lack of appropriate numbers to tally that mark, or—” She bit her tongue, again. At the flash of amused frustration sweeping his face and polluting the molecules of whatever air was hovering between them. Permeating was a better word. Lizzie really needed to work on all of that. Words. Being slightly less jealous of potential make outs that didn’t have anything to do with her and definitely happened because there had to be other people out there in the world who simply could not cope with the existence of that dimple. 

“How many people have you made out with, then?” “Scores,” Lizzie snarled, only to get immediately scoffed at. “I’m really, incredibly popular.” “Oh, I’ve got no doubt.” “Boatloads of guys. Lining up to,” she pointed an imperious finger at her mouth, “make out with this.” “Your well-defined chin?” “I’m going to take my shoe off.” “Draw attention with a move like that.” Whatever fight she had didn’t immediately die. It just, sort of, fell. At her feet, threatening all the bones there and there were too many. All of them far too fragile. For whatever metaphor she was running with at the moment. “And we’re not trying to do that, huh? Draw attention.” “Shouldn’t you be out sowing wild oats?” “Really know how to charm a girl,” she grumbled, and that got her a smile. No scoff. Not even the hint of a smile. The whiplash was hurting her neck. “Trust me, the oats have appropriately sowed. If I was ever particularly inclined to farm work.” “I’m starting to be vaguely embarrassed by all of this.” “Good.” Wasn’t quite a scoff. Was more like a half-hearted laugh, and a tinge of desire and that was better than the other emotions, but the decreasing level of Roland’s eyebrows gave her pause. “What about the status of your oats?”

“Well sowed, rookie season,” Roland said. 

“You’re going to change the name on your jersey.” “Not sure that particular fact has a lot to do with anything else. Seven years, Liza.” “I’m perfectly capable of doing math, you know I took that stats class once.” “Because I double checked everything you turned in.” “Makes you slightly less of an idiot than the vibe you're giving off right now.” “A freeway or compliments.” Pulling in a deep inhale through her nose, Lizzie didn’t miss the way Roland’s gaze fell. To the neckline of her dress, lingering on the jut of her collarbones for a few seconds longer than a strictly platonic friendship should allow, and they were friends. Still. She knew that as well as she knew that he believed she thought he was simply being clever with nicknames. 

And not making vaguely incorrect My Fair Lady references. 

Because he’d always been a little annoyed that Eliza had gone back to Henry Higgins. Instead of Freddie.

It was really impossible not to be a little in love with him at all times. 

“You’re really going to hyphenate?” Roland nodded. “Think of all the new jerseys they’ll sell.” “By the box-load, and Gina’s gonna buy the entire stock. She’s—that’s really nice, you know.” “Just a fact. Little late, but—” He shrugged. Lizzie’s smile threatened to split her face. In that same nice way, she’d been talking about. Her lips were still buzzing. She might have been buzzing. With adrenaline. Happiness. The near-desperate desire to find some type of closet and get her fingers back in Roland’s questionably long hair. 

“Of naming conventions.” She couldn’t begin to guess what the record was for shoulder shifts in an emotionally charged conversation between two people who were simultaneously ignoring the point of the conversation, but Lizzie also knew her eyebrows had been halfway up her face as he’d detailed the reasons for making his jersey say Mills-Locksley. From here on out. 

Maybe that was the top of the list, actually. 

He was a good guy. 

Had always been a good guy. The best guy, really. 

Falling into that chasm wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Lizzie expected it to be. 

“Why’d you do it?” Roland’s lips disappeared. His tongue moved, again. She was staring at the area around his tongue. So, like, his mouth. Directly at his mouth. “Because, I uh—have wanted to?” “Oh, don’t phrase that like a question.” “Wanted to,” he repeated, a statement of fact with a certain amount of conviction. Enough to make Lizzie’s pulse sputter. “Which is kind of freaking me out.” “Come back with more compliments.” “Your dress nearly made me fall over.” “Better, actually,” she laughed. 

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Made sense at the time.” “Be more specific.” “Kissing you,” Roland said, enough emphasis that he leaned forward half an inch as well. It was a miracle their noses didn’t collide. Not the most impressive miracle, but—counted. “If I tell you that you might be my best friend does that make the lamest professional hockey player alive?” “Yes, absolutely.” “Matt might challenge you to a duel if he hears me talking like this, you know.” “God, Locksley, didn’t we just talk about the Mattie rules? Also, that made it sound like Mattie wants to kiss you too, so...”

He chuckled. Fingers still tugging on the back of his hair, like he was trying to ground himself in the pull and the self-inflicted tension, Roland looked up. Back at her. And Lizzie didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Held her position and prepared herself to defend the schedule she’d only ever allowed herself to hope for in the silence of that one corner in her brain. 

Filled, as it was, with memories. Of conversations that didn’t have anything to do with hockey. Others that did. Arguing over blue line placement in the brownstone and college rankings. Of movies watched on two different laptops in different corners of the country, bad jokes, and consistent updates, that deep-rooted understanding that came from a life full of expectations and the exact opposite. No overt pressure, but the need to prove yourself anyway, if only because of the name on the back of the jersey, and Lizzie was going to have to buy a new jersey. 

“You like me? Yes, or no?” Roland smiled. Wide and honest, the kind that ensured the dimple was on prominent display. “Yes.” “I am a grown adult? Yes, or no?” Crinkles appeared around his eyes. From the smile. 

“Yes.” “Meaning I get to make my own choices. Romantically, or otherwise. Yes, or no?” “Obviously.” “Wasn’t one of the options.” “Yes,” Roland corrected, fingers trailing over the bend of her elbow. Lizzie hadn’t uncrossed her arms. Or remembered when she’d crossed them in the first place. 

“Ok, good. Same page, then.” “Liza.” “Locksley.” Lifting her eyebrows wasn’t a challenge, per se. Was closer to instinct, really. Specifics didn’t matter, honestly. She did that thing with her eyebrows, and he did that thing with his mouth, the same one she was staring at and hoping would move closer to her, and then—

Well, it did. 

Hands found Lizzie’s hips, pulling her forward sharply enough that she let out a soft grunt. From the feel of hips bumping against hers, and she honestly wasn’t sure who hissed in their next inhale, only that it did something to the flutter-like state of her pulse and the erratic nature of her heart, and it was slow and fast and good and great and not a single person noticed. 

Miracles were arriving en masse, apparently. 

Pushing her fingers into Roland’s hair got Lizzie another hum of approval, the first brush of his tongue making her lips part and her head fall to the side, but then his hand was wrapped around the back of her neck, and she could not be expected to pay attention to anything except the semi-consistent swipe of his thumb against her skin. It left more goosebumps. Caused another chuckle, the kind that rumbled through her and resonated around her, a tiny bubble of that same cautious optimism from before. 

Like a spark. 

Fanning flames and threatening to burn everything because if this didn’t work, then Lizzie wasn’t sure what would, and that was scary and overwhelming and terrifying was a synonym, but she really was working with very limited word-based resources when Roland’s thumb kept moving. Tracing her. Committing the feel to memory, and she wasn’t sure when they’d established the rocking pattern they were moving in, but something deep in the center of her trusted it. 

Someone who regularly strapped knives to his feet and raced around at top speed knew how to stay balanced. And she was a stubborn idiot. Who got what she wanted. 

“Is part of liking me because I told you I didn’t think it was embarrassing that you still got a little emotional about Miracle on 34th Street?” Laughter pushed past her lips. Took root in the pit of her stomach and the spaces between her ribs. Laced through her heart. In the kind of way that cemented itself. Right in the middle of Lizzie. Right in the middle of this. Them. 

There was a them, now. 

“Was definitely a factor, yeah,” Roland said, not bothering to pull away. “You, uh—you snuck up on me a little, Liza.” “Peak romance.” “Want me to talk about your dress some more?” She shook her head. “Unnecessary. And you didn’t.” “That might be part of the problem.” “Nursing old crushes, you mean?” Her hair hit her cheek. And his hand. He couldn’t seem to let go of her. “Nah, this wasn’t like...there was no torch, not really. I—I wasn’t hanging posters of you on my wall if that’s the picture you’ve painted for yourself.” “Kinda disappointing, admittedly.” “Pick a lane, babe.” No sparkle, that time. Just flash and want and the very thin line Lizzie’s lips had become. “Be more specific,” Roland repeated softly. “You’re not standing on a pedestal. Just you, Rol, as is.” He waited. That was fair. There should have been more. Should have been a detailed list of all the reasons the grown-up version of her liked so many parts of the grown-up version of him, but that all felt a little extraneous when she was still thinking about closet-type possibilities and that stubborn streak was a mile wide, anyway. 

Roland nodded once. “Good.”

Both of them jumped. At the pop of another champagne bottle and Lizzie never understood how Regina managed to order so much champagne every year, but she felt a bit like she was floating on the bubbles, and they didn’t decide. Explicitly. To keep the whole thing—

Secret. 

Another bad word. With bad connotations and shadows that clung to the definition, but this was them and only them and, for right now, that was enough. And if no one noticed the way Roland’s hand drifted over the small of Lizzie’s back during David’s speech, then that was a miracle she was willing to accept. 

[madmaddoxfuryroad]

HSMTMTS: Season 3 thoughts

So I’ve been ruminating a lot about this show today (like every other day) and I got to thinking about what they might do for season 3. Less so plot-wise (I mean season 2 is just over halfway through), but more about what musical they might do, what the cast might be, and how that could tie into the individual characters and their arcs (some more so than others, but c’est la vie).

In trying to figure out what musical they might do, I started first with the obvious: what does Disney own? I don’t think they would return to the HSM franchise (until the final season, but thoughts on that for another day), so anything related to that and other DCOMs I counted out. I also eliminated all Disney animated/princess films. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but seeing as this season they are doing BATB, I don’t think they would immediately go into another animated-film-adapted-for-broadway right after that. So at that point I wasn’t quite sure where to go. Mary Poppins was really the only other thing that came to mind and while I love the film and broadway show I just don’t think it fits the cast well slash even has enough parts to really showcase them. You have Mary and Bert. And then I guess Mr. and Mrs. Banks? Then the kids are a whole other issue. It just felt messy. So I just started thinking about broadway shows that I like, I mean if they wanted to, Disney has the money and could pay for the rights to use most shows. Then everything fell into place.

Into the Woods. I am 100% positive I am letting my bias for this show cloud my judgement, but if you stick with me, I think I can persuade you (or not, your mind is your own and I respect that). First off, Disney owns it. At least I think they do. They made the movie (RIP), so I am going to safely assume they have the rights at this point. Next, yes it contains fairytale elements, which might make you feel it’s a little too close to BATB, but it is such a deconstruction of fairytales and their tropes that I almost feel like it is an amazing follow up to a more traditional fairytale. It introduces conflict and the real world into these fantasy scenarios, which I feel goes really well with high school in general and growing up, expectations being shattered, and learning to alter your world view (I really love this play). Plus, I think it would be exciting to see this cast do a more broadway-type show. Obviously BATB is a broadway show, but I think there is a lot of reliance on knowing the film and less on the play itself. And not going to lie after Julia Lester’s rendition of “Home” last week (which I have not STOPPED listening to) it would be amazing to hear these teens tackle more broadway-style music. Which, takes me to my final point: the cast. What I love so much about Into the Woods is how it is very much an ensemble cast. Yes some roles are bigger than others, but if you have a named character, odds are it’s a fairly good role. And the whole HSMTMTS cast is so talented, I like the idea of them picking a show where it does not feel like anyone is sidelined with their part. Now the only thing left to do is cast it…

FULL disclosure. I ran into an issue early on that I ended up thinking Ashlyn was perfect for every female role and Seb was perfect for every male role. But I was eventually able to push through and cast it (in my humble opinion) pretty well. So I am just going to go off in the order that I cast them, because I think it will help explain my thought process.

THE CAST

Cinderella - Nini. Once I got over my need to hear Julia/Ashlyn sing “No One Is Alone” (loophole to this coming later), this felt like a pretty natural fit and was one of the easiest to cast. For one, I just think Olivia’s vocal range pairs very well with Cinderella’s and she could do beautifully with her songs like “On the Steps Of The Palace”. But what really got me was the way she parallels the character so perfectly. Cinderella is a character who always dreams of more but isn’t quite sure what that “more” is. And because she isn’t *quite* sure what she wants, the character is often seen grappling with indecision (see: “On The Steps Of The Palace”). Most of Act I is her being stagnant and letting the Prince take the active role. Finally in Act II she starts to get a better sense of who she is, who she wants to be, and what she doesn’t want. So this felt like it tied in really nicely with Nini’s journey and would be a great role for her, especially when…

Cinderella’s Prince - Ricky. Yes, yes I know. Ricky and Nini playing love interests? Groundbreaking. But stay with me. For one, I just like the idea of Ricky not getting the lead male role, and this part is perfect for him, regardless. The whole relationship between Cinderella and her Prince mirrors Nini and Ricky remarkably well. The way the Prince sees Cinderella as this perfect maiden who, if he could just be with her, would be the only thing he would ever want/need. But of course this isn’t realistic and isn’t how relationships work, which they both come to terms with by the end of Act II. Their break-up/parting ways scene might be my favorite in the entire play and I think it would be so great for Ricky and Nini to get to perform. In part because the conclusion of the scene is basically them both admitting that they will always love the idea of the other, even though they don’t actually work as a couple. (**I am operating on the assumption that they will have broken up in season 2 and are still broken up, but never really dealt with it). Honestly I recommend just watching the scene I will link it here (it goes from about 2:12:35-2:15:00). Plus, I could totally see there being an episode where they are trying to rehearse this scene, but it just isn’t working so Miss Jenn has both of them improv it or rewrite the lines to something that might feel more comfortable or personal. And I just see that being a really beautiful moment for the two and a chance for growth and closure. I could go on about this dynamic, but I will move on to my final point: “Agony”. First, while it is mostly a comedic song, you can take just the first verse of the song and recontextualize it really nicely as a Ricky pining kind of song, which I absolutely dig (not quitting on my Rina endgame, and you can’t make me) I mean: “If I should lose her, how shall I regain the heart she has won from me? Agony, beyond power of speech, when the one thing you want is the only thing out of your reach”. And BONUS I think we could also get a full-on version of “Agony” in all its absurdist glory with…

Rapunzel’s Prince - EJ. Well, sort of. Technically, no. BUT for the purposes of “Agony”, yes. At this point EJ will have graduated, but I don’t think he will be written out of the show, so it remains to be seen exactly what his place will be. I just think these two 100% need a song together and this is 100% that song. I could see it being something as simple as EJ is helping out with the show, the unnamed kid playing Rapunzel’s Prince is out, so they have EJ fill in. Or they have to have him go on for that kid last minute during the performance. It’s a quick, easily explainable thing that would have SUCH a great payoff.

Jack - Big Red. This was certainly one of the easier ones to cast, but my first thought was of course Seb. Jack is just a boy whose best friend is his cow and Seb radiates that energy. But I needed him for something else. Enter Big Red, the perfect Jack. For one, Big Red has a lot of that starry eyed wonderment that Jack has, that none of the other characters do. There is a purity and innocence to the way Jack sees a lot of things. That pairs nicely with Big Red. And it also opens the door for him to grow and mature more as a character. By the end of the show, Jack is in a place where is needs to transition more to adulthood and with Big Red being a senior by season 3, I think there is a lot of potential here. Also, with Big Red as Jack, I really like the character he is often paired with in scenes, but I will hold back until I get to them.

Witch - Kourtney. Yes. It is her time. One can debate over which character is the “main character” of Into the Woods, but for me it’s the Witch. And Kourtney deserves this. Did I heavily consider Ashlyn for this as well? You know I did. But I grow more and more confident in the casting of Kourtney the more I think about it. First thing’s first: the Witch belts, and I mean BELTS. Dara is such a powerhouse vocally that she would crush every moment of that; I have total faith. But the Witch also has such quiet and tender moments that people don’t think about as much, but are so necessary for the character to be effective and I think she also has that on lock. We have not seen a ton of it (so I would be eager to get more) but when she did her version of “Beauty and the Beast” she was able to find soft but strong moments in the song, and it was so lovely. Then, from a more thematic POV, the Witch is characterized as “the voice of reason”. While everyone else is running around in their fairytale dream world, she is always the one there dolling out the reality checks. And if that ain’t Kourtney. Basically, I think it is her time to get the lead and she would be amazing in this role.

Baker - Seb. Finally settled on a role for him. But really, how could it be anything else? I have felt since the first time we heard him sing (in Truth, Justice, and Songs in our Key, I think) that he was severely underused. The Baker is essentially the male lead, and he has earned it. I don’t think there’s much more that needs to be said here.

Baker’s Wife - Ashlyn. Here’s the thing: could someone else be cast as Baker’s Wife? Yes. And I am sure they would do a fine job. But the thing about this role is that you often don’t realize how fantastic it is until you see someone really great playing it. There’s heart, humor, tragedy, and so much more all wrapped into this character and I would far and away trust Julia/Ashlyn with this above all others. And Baker’s Wife gets to sing a short reprise of “No One Is Alone” so I get to win both ways. No matter how I try to cast it or rearrange characters, I keep coming back to the fact that Ashlyn is just hands down the correct choice. Plus she is one of the better options when it comes to having chemistry with Seb. And I’m not even talking about romantic chemistry, just more about the camaraderie of it, and being able to really see them as a team worth rooting for. They both have an inherent sweetness that makes you care for them, which is crucial for the show. AND this would be another opportunity for Julia Lester to flex her acting after playing VERY different roles in HSM and BATB. Basically, I don’t know when it happened, but I think I am a Julia Lester stan and I only want what is best for her and I think this is it. 

Little Red - Gina. “Didn’t see that one coming did you?” -Pietro Maximoff. And honestly same. There’s always that tough moment in casting when you’ve done the more obvious ones and then you feel sort of stuck with cast choices that weren’t really your choice. But this one really grew on me. Hopefully, I can do it justice. And I will be the first to admit Gina deserves her time to shine because I do think she is amazing. It just isn’t her time yet. It also doesn’t help that Into the Woods is one of the LEAST dance-centered shows and dance it where she really puts all others to shame. So this is where we landed. But it works. I promise. Little Red as a character is pretty naïve, but covers it up with over the top confidence. That feels pretty Gina. I love where her character has gone and all the growth she is displayed in trying to be more vulnerable. But there is still a part of me that does miss mean girl Gina and I think Little Red is a great way to get that energy without backtracking the character development. I don’t think she would be the stereotypical “bratty” Little Red, but I think she could still do something great with it. Also very similar to Jack, Little Red is one of the more innocent characters that has to grow up and face a lot of harsh realities over the course of the play. And I have no doubt Gina would nail that aspect of it, too. And speaking of Jack, Little Red has a number of scenes interacting with him and you know what that means: Gina and Big Red bonding time! I really like the idea of these roles bringing the two closer as friends. And I already head-canon that they would have a ton of fun playing with the fact that they are now Big Red and Little Red (especially since he is on the shorter side and she is on the taller side). Basically I see this as a way for them to build up a really good rapport. I am also pretty convinced that Big Red is a secret Rina shipper, and this would only add to that. And finally even though this is not a dance-heavy show at all, one place where they could add a dance is during “Hello Little Girl”. Now I will be the first to admit that this song is dicey at best, particularly for Disney. But even a scene working on the dance with just the instrumental, no lyrics, could be great. I see it as a partner dance with the wolf (I don’t know dance terms, so maybe this is super vague). And oh, wouldn’t you know it? Cinderella’s Prince is often double-cast as the wolf! (WHAT ARE THE CHANCES) Meaning the Wolf would also be good ol’ Richard Bowen. And I like the idea of getting Rina scenes of them trying to work on the dance, but Ricky is super bad a leading, and they just have fun trying to figure it out. It’s also nice that it is absolutely not a romantic dance so the two wouldn’t feel any added pressure and could just have fun with one another, and that really is when Rina is at its best (not that I would say no to a scene where Gina has to teach Ricky the BATB waltz, but I digress).

Narrator/Mysterious Man - Carlos. By process of elimination, you probably could have guessed who was next. And I know this one also feels like a weird choice but I do kind of love it. First you have the narrator, which is another one of those roles that is only as memorable as the actor playing it, which I think is right up Carlos’ alley. He is always trying to put his unique stamp on things and be memorable and he would take the narrator in a very enjoyable direction. There’s also the matter that I see Carlos as something of an assistant director with Miss Jenn, which makes him a third-party observer of the shows inherently, so it is almost a little meta that he would also end up being the narrator. Then there’s is the mysterious man. I love the idea of Carlos getting to play two very different characters, but I love it even more because the mysterious man is the father of the baker which makes for a lot of sweet moments between the two of them. Yes it might be a little weird for Seblos to be playing father and son, but there is such a vulnerability and tenderness in the moments between the two characters, particularly during “No More” that I can get over it. Because I think they are one of the few pairings on this show that could really pull that off. I just think this character would be a great way to exhibit the range of Carlos.

**BONUS ALTERNATE CASTING**

I really, really love this idea and could not fault them if this was the direction they went, but I ultimately decided against it, mostly because I felt too strongly about another character having the role BUT:

Baker’s Husband - Carlos. I just really love the idea of Seblos getting to be front and center, with their dynamic as the focal point of the show. And honestly Carlos would also do an amazing job as this character. I mean, Seb and Carlos singing “It Takes Two”? How sweet is that? This would also be a great way for the development of their relationship to get a little bit more attention, instead of a side story here and there. There is a lot that could be done with this from a story perspective and I would be here for it.

Unfortunately, then that leaves me unsure of where to put Ashlyn. She could be Jack’s mother, but that feels like such a waste of her. I mean, she would do well and she does have the lead this year, so it’s not SO terrible her having a more minor character, but it just doesn’t feel right. And I really just feel so strongly that she would be the best option for Baker’s Wife out of everyone. And it opens the door to develop the Seb and Ashlyn friendship more, which I am always here for. 

Anyway. Those are my thoughts. If you made it this far: wow and thank you!

[bobdylanrevisited]

Time Out Of Mind

Released: 30 September 1997

Rating: 10/10

Like Gandalf returning from the dead, Bob steps back into the limelight like a wise, old wizard returning to tell you all the secrets of existence. This is a phenomenal piece of art, it’s so perfectly Dylan, as he seems to reinvigorate his love for poetry and the music of old. With Daniel Lanois back producing, this is a completely unique experience that kickstarted Bob’s third classical period, and cemented his reputation as the greatest artist of the 20th century. (I won’t be addressing the ridiculously pathetic plagiarism claims that were raised against some tracks here. I recommend reading Richard F. Thomas’ stellar book ‘Why Dylan Matters’ and his explanation of how borrowing and reusing old text has always been a part of poetry and folk music)

1. Love Sick - From the very first second, you find out everything you need to know about the album. It’s going to be mysterious and shady, dark and sad. After the oddly off tempo, echoing guitar notes, we hear Bob’s growl, a man emerging from the shadows ready to tell his life story. This song is slow, but builds to a great chorus, and Bob and his whole band just sound perfectly unique. The lyrics may be fairly depressing in verse, but you believe them because Bob sounds so jaded. It’s a great way to start the album, it sets a scene that you can lose yourself in.

2. Dirt Road Blues - There’s a sudden change of pace here, as Bob hits us with an uptempo blues track. This sounds like a song you’d discover on a forgotten vinyl from the 1940s. It’s a fantastic homage to those Bob adored as a youth, and he sings his heart out here, with fantastic results. It’s a great track, perhaps a little out of keeping with the rest of the record, but everything about it sounds perfect.

3. Standing In The Doorway - After a track rejecting love, followed by one lifted from the past, this song completely knocks you out. I always get emotional hearing it, from the first haunting organ chord to the desperate and mournful lyrics. Bob sounds pained and remorseful, the backing music is simple but sets the bleak tone, and the lyrics are genuinely heartbreaking, as Bob appeals to the love who left him. He paints a picture of loneliness and regret better than any other artist, and this is another beautiful song, although I must admit it’s unlikely to leave you in a happy mood.

4. Million Miles - Very much in the same vein as the opening track, this song sounds seedy and grim, in the best possible way. The sinister backing music helps punctuate Bob’s growl, although the lyrics are surprisingly sweet and hopeful as he attempts to reunite with someone. Perhaps this isn’t the most memorable track, but it’s still bloody brilliant.

5. Trying To Get To Heaven - The acceptance of death is always a theme for Bob, and here it is presented with an organ and crooning voice, as he fears he may be too late for salvation. Although this idea is tackled in a much more nuanced way on track 7, I still enjoy this song a lot. The music sounds a little more optimistic that the rest of the album, and Bob sings his heart out.

6. Til I Fell In Love With You - A great blues number, where the bass is the star of the show. It’s a dark song, with a classic story of lost love and regret, but I do think it may be a tad unoriginal and certainly one of the weaker songs on the record. That’s not to say it’s a bad track at all, Bob sounds like the lost souls of old and the band are on top form. It just doesn’t stand out as much as other, better songs on this seminal piece of work.

7. Not Dark Yet - Bob once again reckons with mortality. He reviews his life and his adventures, seemingly going through an existential crisis of character. This track is truly stunning, Bob sounds introspective and the slower backing music is both haunting, yet sounds strangely optimistic. The lyrics may seem depressing and as if Bob is resigned to fate, yet I think it’s a lot happier than that. He’s freeing himself of worry and is accepting the cruel nature of existence, with some good humour thrown in as well. The poet has definitely returned and this is one of his best written songs in many years.

8. Cold Irons Bound - On an album of highlights, it’s hard to pick a favourite, but I think gun to my head this would be my choice. It’s a fantastic rockabilly tune, Bob has an incredible menace to his delivery and his band have never sounded better, it’s a flawless performance all around. The lyrics are surprisingly sweet, Bob is pursuing his love, but this sentiment is a stark contrast to the electronic assault the instruments lay on the senses. It’s a perfect track, however I wish more than anything that I could hear 1966 Dylan perform this, as it’s a clear return to his famous ‘thin mercury sound’.

9. Make You Feel My Love - I think this may be my least favourite song on the album, though I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because of Adele’s famous cover? Maybe it’s because Bob’s voice does sound incredibly strained and not that great compared to the rest of the record? I certainly like the hopeless desperation of the lyrics, and the musical production is as brilliant as always, but something about this track just doesn’t quite gel for me.

10. Can’t Wait - For me, this is the best song on the album from a purely musical perspective. The bass riff is amazing, whilst the guitar occasionally kicks in and changes the whole atmosphere of the track. The lyrics are as dark and hopeless as you’d expect from Bob, as he is waiting/hoping for his lover to return, but the backing band elevate this song to a new level. It’s a perfect blend of the blues and rockabilly, which puts you in the mind of dive bars and desperation.

11. Highlands - The final track is heavily inspired by Robert Burns, and at 16:31 minutes this was Bob’s longest song until ‘Murder Most Foul’ 23 years later. Musically, it’s an incredibly simple song, but as with most Dylan work, his poetry and delivery are the selling point. Here he tells a long, sprawling story about life, death, diners and lost love. It’s incredibly hard to not lose yourself in the song, as his words paint vast landscapes and detailed scenes. All I can really say is, whack this on, close your eyes, and join Bob on a long odyssey through his mind.

Verdict: It’s no wonder this won the Grammy for Album of the Year. The music is genius, Bob’s voice is harsh and unrelenting, and his songwriting feels impossible. He manages to be a poet of old, like Ovid or Virgil, yet it’s also as if he’s from another plane of existence. He seems to have figured out what it means to be human, all you can do is listen closely and hope that you understand his teachings. I’m jealous of anyone who gets to hear this for the first time, it’s near life changing, whilst also adding to the enigma and mystery of who or what Bob Dylan is. 24 years on, it still sounds so modern and fresh, whilst also paying respect to Bob’s influences and those before him that paved the road he walks. As much as I adore this record, his next venture would be even better, as Bob continued his late career resurgence and consistently rejected popular music, staying true to his own artistic sensibilities.

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Clementine!

Your application for Hannah Abbott has been accepted. I so love seeing people take on Trio characters because in a lot of ways they’re so new to me, having a mostly Marauders background, and it excites me to see what people make of them. You’ve done some great development on her already!

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Clementine, she/her

TIMEZONE: AEDT / GMT+11

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Fairly active in the afternoons/evenings and on weekends.

ANYTHING ELSE: No triggers or anything. Experience-wise, I’ve been RPing on and off since I was about 17, almost exclusively in some form of HP-verse.

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: Hannah Abbott

BIRTHDATE: August 1st, 1980

DEATHDATE: N/A

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Hannah identifies as cisgender with she/her pronouns. In terms of her sexuality, she has always assumed that she is primarily attracted to men, because it is what she has, in her mind, deemed safe. Despite the more open and accepting nature of Wixen society, one of her Muggle mother’s sisters, who Hannah is extremely close to, lives with her female partner and Hannah has seen the way that Muggle society treats same-sex couples. This choice for Hannah, however, is heavily based on her own assumptions of what she should do, as she has rarely felt sexual attraction for anyone, needing a strong emotional connection with someone in order to do so. (She will eventually identify as demisexual, however, she has never come across that kind of terminology before / may not do so for a long time)

BLOOD STATUS: Half-Blood (muggleborn mother, magic father)

HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff

OCCUPATION: Waitress at the Leaky Cauldron, works occasionally at a Muggle florist owned by her grandparents

FACECLAIM: Eliza Scanlen

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

In the weeks after the war ended, Hannah chose to isolate herself back into the Muggle world as she struggled to come to terms with not only what they had won, but what they had lost along the way. Having to repeat her sixth year at Hogwarts would have been difficult enough for Hannah, but the added circumstances had left her with both physical and mental scars and she had been in no real place to assist with much of the rebuilding. Hannah, who cries and anything and everything, ended the war with barely a tear, as if it had all completely dried her up. She reentered Wixen society slowly - guided by friends who understood what they had all gone through and her determination to build her shattered family back together again. Getting a job at the Leaky was one of the best things she could have done for herself: it allowed her to not only be around other people once again but to see the ways in which society could grow and thrive after a war.

Hannah has no real regrets about her actions and involvement during the war - she could not live with herself if she hadn’t fought. Her fight began when they first took Cedric from them, and it only continued when they took her mother too. She chose to put all her fears and worries behind her until the war was done, and that was when she could collapse.

Despite all her progress, the news of the Returned set Hannah back once more. No matter how hard she tries to cut down her own hope, she opens the Prophet every day, desperate to find the name ‘Abbott’ on the list. Logically, Hannah knows it’s near to impossible - her mother was a Muggle, no matter that she loved a wizard, that her children were magic. But deep in her heart, all Hannah wants is to be able to see and touch her mother once more.

PERSONALITY

Hannah is generally a bright and cheerful person - she has a smile and a wave for everyone who enters the Leaky and is often found deep in conversation with the regulars. She has a knack for names and faces, and it was her decision to fill the back alley with pots and planters, spending her breaks with her knuckles deep in soil. Hannah is a quiet listener and while she can babble when nervous, she knows that sometimes silence is the best response.

On the flip-side, however, despite her outward appearance of calm, inside Hannah is a permanent mess of anxiety and panic. She can be remarkably high-strung despite her patience and she often requires validation and reassurance - when younger, she was happy to follow along with the thoughts and actions of others: her independence seemed to come later. Hannah is an easy crier: tears for frustration and stress and panic, tears of sympathy and laughter. When flustered, she becomes clumsy, which often results in a cycle of more panic and usually ends with something broken. Hannah struggles with looking after and caring for herself, often choosing to take care of others instead.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

Hannah was born to a pureblooded father and a Muggleborn mother, leading her to spend most of her life split between both worlds. Her parents were quite adept at sheltering her from the judgement of other families - particularly those who believed her father had ‘tainted’ the bloodline, however, Hannah soon began to realise that not everyone was as accepting as she had believed. Her parents really pushed for Hannah to be as accepting and as loyal as she could be: they instilled a heavy focus on just being kind to others, something that was not difficult for their quiet daughter. The Abbotts were unable to have any more children after Hannah, and so she was completely doted upon by both sides of her family. Hannah was exceptionally close to her mother and her mother’s side of the family, having spent many summers growing up, pottering around on her grandparents’ farm.

Her mother was murdered during Hannah’s sixth year at Hogwarts, in a targetted attack. While the family will not openly discuss it, Hannah has come to understand that the intention had been to warn her father from not only continuing to outwardly express his pro-Muggle views at the Ministry but from attempting to use his influence to halt the corrupt ongoings. As a result, her father completely shut down, shuttling Hannah to her grandparents’ in a cloud of grief and guilt, and she barely saw him for the remainder of the year. After the war, when her father realised he could have lost the last of his family, they slowly came back together. The Abbott’s healing is slow, but gradual, and Hannah knows that patience is what they need right now.

HISTORY

Before the start of the war, Hannah was three things: patient, uncertain, happy. Before the end of the war, she was three different things: angry, broken, determined. At once she was almost two Hannahs: the Hannah who cried during her OWLs, who spent her free time in the greenhouses, who smiled at the first years and made stupid jokes to cheer them up. And she was also the Hannah who sobbed at the loss of Cedric, who buckled under the weight of being prefect, of knowing their whole house was grieving and it was she and Ernie they would look to. The Hannah who lost her best friend and herself when her mother died, and didn’t know when she would ever get herself back.

Hannah finds herself carrying these things with her: every tear, every panic attack, every story she’s ever listened to. And, more than anything, she wants to prove that Hufllepuffs are more: more than just Cedric being killed and tossed to the side, more than just “that other house”, the spares and the leftovers. She is driven by the need to show that being hard-working and patient and loyal and true is sometimes just as important as being brave or wise or cunning.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

This RP was recommended to me by some friends I have RPed with in the past / am currently RPing with. I think I’m looking most forward to playing a trio-era character in a different time of their life to anything I’ve played before - my usual characters have either been Marauders-Era or a recent foray into middle-aged trio.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Here are some hcs I wrote like…six years back? And here is a pinterest board because that is who I am as a person :)

[adventuresofmonique]

How I learnt to form boundaries.

God says in Proverbs 4:24; “Protect your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life”. 

I’ve had my fair share of toxic relationships and some of my friends always remind me of this verse. Some relationships constantly made me  think I was the issue and this lead to some serious mental health triggers.  

After many failed relationships, I am finally happy to be single and just be free. To have a strong relationship with God and the biggest gift I think God is trying to teach me now is boundaries.

Ironically, the firmer the boundaries, the more flexible and generous we can be. 

My first every relationship I had was full of trust and the fulfilment of a void inside of me that someone actually liked me. My first boyfriend, I trusted so much but little did I know that he cheated on me repetitively. I was so innocent, so blindsided for the fact I trusted him so much, I didn’t need to look through his phone.  Until one day at university, I was getting some lunch and wondering why he never messaged me for nearly an entire day, I was cool with it though - he could just be busy.  Then the heart-dropping text of one sentence, that made me feel my heart drop to the ground and just shatter. “It’s not going to work out, we need to break up”. No reasoning, just a random break up.  It wasn’t until later I found out about the dating applications, texts etc.  I was hurt.

Fast forward to today.  Many failed relationships later and I can’t trust any guy, I also think I am not good enough for anyone, who would want to be with me? 

I once had a friend in high school who said I would never get a boyfriend, because who could possibly love me (Certainly, wasn’t a friend). But, the opinion of this one person, has followed me since I was 17. The demon of “You’re not good enough”, “you’re not pretty enough”, ‘You’re boring” etc. It took a toll and what was my way of dealing with it?  

The most UNHEALTHIEST way ever!!   I would start up relationships when I wasn’t ready and then end up breaking up over silly, small things or beat them to the chase and break up with them before they had the chance to even try to bruise my heart. I would nit pick the things I didn’t like and blow it up in my head and just leave.  But, hurt people, hurt people. I was hurting people left, right and centre and it was toxic trait of mine.  However, this lead me to relationships that were so toxic, it damaged me. I was in relationships where what I thought was normal, when it really wasn’t. I didn’t realize this until one friend said - “this isn’t normal”. I had one ex-boyfriend hide my keys and wouldn’t let me go, punch holes in the wall when he didn’t get his way. I would get told “Apologise to me for being ugly”, “You’re nothing but a whore”, “You belong on the streets” and it went on for about 5 years I dealt with this.

UNTIL, I found God again. They say he left the 99 to find the 1 and the night I was going to end it all, he showed up and saved me. I felt like the was the 1 he found in the middle of all this mess, he picked me up. (That story is for another time). But, it lead me to escaping toxic relationships and lead me to seek help, to become healed and identify a toxic relationship before even getting into one again.  

Through all of this i learnt, when you don’t establish boundaries, toxic people will continue to push. You can’t just assume that they will think and love like you do and will stop when they have pushed too far. With these types, they will never draw a line to protect/respect you -- YOU MUST draw and YOU MUST  enforce these yourself. 

Establishing boundaries isn’t just second nature and it isn’t always easy. If you are doing certain things that ‘people please’ your friends, parents, partner, colleagues or even your own boss, sorry to be so blunt but then your boundaries are weak as anything. 

I once had a friend who had literally had everything in her car. Her boot was like Mary Poppins bag, you just stick your hand in and you come out with whatever you need.  She did this because if something came up that someone needed, she had it. She even admitted to me one day that she hated carrying her Mary Poppins bag around in her boot but she felt as if she was expected to have something when someone needed it. 

Having a ‘Mary Poppins’ bag/life for the world, putting up with cheating, abuse, bullying, disrespect or going out to a lunch when you would rather not is perhaps not a huge deal at the moment, but overtime the erosion of personal boundaries has various number of effects.

When you say ‘yes’ to things that you don’t want to do, you increase your risk of growing more exhausted and resentful -- this will end up taking a toll on your mental health and then that’s when the enemy comes to steal your happiness. PROTECT YOUR HEART!

If you go into a relationship trying to fit in with society or please everyone, you’re going to loose even more. Caving into marriage or relationships because you feel behind or you’re getting old tends to be the zero-sum game. In order to assert your needs you needs, it will be expected to come across anger or even disappointment of how situations turned out or even your ex at times. No matter how amicable the situation -- that’s okay. 

They are you ex, their happiness is not your problem. 

This saying above, we have all heard so much - no doubt. But, apply this saying to your friends and family too. Some want you to reconcile and others want you to bury this dude 10 feet deep. However, this is your break up/divorce/loss of friendship not theirs. If they are helping you and making you feel better -- GREAT! If not, distance yourself a little -- get help and move forward. It doesn’t end here. Trust me, I’ve had friends that never helped, but i prayed to God for friends that are real and that’s what he gave me. REAL and Authentic friends - that tell you how it is but will never not help you. My God is so good all the time and all the time God is good. 

I like to call it ‘Pruning’, Gods going to remove some people out of your life and it’s going to hurt and be a little rough, but it’s okay to put yourself first. 

Will some people get mad? yep.  Will some people just leave you high and try? also yes. Were they real friends though? no. 

Some people will hate your boundaries. You not having boundaries have probably served some of your ‘friends’ well, they will be irritated that you no longer bought your ‘Mary Poppins’ bag for whatever they needed. Again, not your problem. And if they withdraw from your life the moment you stop allowing them from using you, do you then really care?  I found out I was way better off. 

So, I had two options. I could keep living my life for other people and on a one way street. Or I could live life on my own terms. This was a big battle, but i started to live life on my own terms and when I made this decision, God set me free.  The bars of the prison were open. I was free. 

I don’t know if you heard of Maya Angelo (Look her up, I love her). But, she said: “you teach people how to treat you, and I prefer they treat you really well”. 

I actually recently read this book called “The Art of extreme self-care” by Cheryl Richardson (link at the bottom of this blog).  She, basically goes through exercises she went through to help her break the chain of her people-pleasing habits. She decided for 30 days, she was going to disappoint one person a day and this would help her enforce her boundaries. Although, she says that this massively increased her anxiety, she goes on to tell that she learnt to stop caring about what other people think and to start caring about what she thought about herself. It’s really helpful actually, I’ve picked up a few lessons myself. I honestly, recommend this read. 

I’ve tired this a few ways myself. Examples are when asking if I would like to donate some money towards a charity at the check out you can simply say “no, thanks”, without explaining why without explaining how you normally give heaps to charity already. 

Just    let     go. 

Doing little things like this, I have started to notice my boundaries are slowly expanding. I said no to certain gatherings without having mad anxiety about it for about two days Change it up though, even with some of my good friends - when they ask if I want to go out for lunch and I know I don’t feel the best anxiety wise, I say ‘no’. 

Slowly, God starts to reveal to you that the people who actually love you, love you no matter what, They understand.  Their love is not conditional on me always saying ‘yes’. 

I am still fairly new to practicing boundaries and sometimes I find it is easy to miss the mark by being too forceful.  I relate back to Proverbs 4:24 when starting a chinwag and being friendly etc. Usually, when I do this, it is generally enough. But, when I deal with bullies, disrespect, that can trigger my past and lead to anxiety I have a shield and this shield protects my heart and this shield maybe praying to God and leaving it at the cross (Which I normally always do), asking God to bless them, open to forgiveness and then there’s also these -- warnings, blocking texts or people, walking away -- this demonstrates that I plan to enforce my boundaries - to protect my heart because what comes into my heart also comes out. 

Lately, when I make mistakes, doing uni assignments and learning a new skill (at the moment I am learning guitar lessons -- music has it’s way of helping me defuse my anxiety) I try and not fault myself for missing the mark where I wanted to be at and i learnt by establishing my boundaries, this comes to no difference, 

I make mistakes all the time, I’m human. I come to realise that it’s okay to make mistakes and i practice self-compassion. I let people who support me know that I am trying a new thing. They know I am working on my boundaries and that if I overshoot the mark, I know they tell me with love. 

What I wrote has helped me and I hope what I’ve expressed can also encourage and help you. 

Praying for you always, 

Love mo. x

BOOK: https://www.booktopia.com.au/the-art-of-extreme-self-care-cheryl-richardson/book/9781401952488.html?source=pla&gclid=CjwKCAiA4rGCBhAQEiwAelVti9rw-Kp4XvZINbu3G4lNJeqtVE_zDUxkHmZfc8d3AuQfPUHjblwDfBoCWfEQAvD_BwE

[soundofseventeen]

13 Days of Christmas (Chwe Hansol)

A special thank you to @pointless-verses and @notprincesscharming​ for loving me the way they do and accepting who I am. I wouldn’t have written this without them. Some of us are Vernon and some of us are Y/N and that’s okay. Merry Christmas (Eve) everyone.

Word count: 2682

“Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright,” you sang softly as you hung the ornaments on your tree. You continued humming it as you decorated your apartment. Occasionally, one of the people that lived in the building would join in with you. You loved Christmas; you loved the holiday; you especially loved the meaning behind it. For many others, it meant gifts, shopping, food for days and more money spent in one month than in the entire year. For you, it was the reminder that Jesus Christ was born.

Jesus, church, and religion had been a big part of your life as a child and as you grew up, your faith in Him never wavered despite the obstacles. You didn’t tell people this part because over time, they had become less devoted and more critical of those who still believed, especially now that questioning everything had become a thing. You were familiar with almost everyone who disrespected your beliefs, and a lot of the time it felt like they targeted you personally. You knew there were bad Christians (and Catholics) who condemned those who were different, but you also knew that the self-righteous pricks who ironically had the holier-than-thou aura were no better, especially when it was just those who followed the trend. You felt lost for a time, but after joining groups and speaking to the pastors about your problem, you left somewhat reassured that as long as you had your faith, you could deal with the problem. Plus, your friends and family accepted you as you were, so nothing else mattered.

Sure you still didn’t know how people lived without God in their lives or how some could be angry at him, but you also didn’t know how people could use God as an excuse to treat others the way they did. Along the way in your self-discovery of living your life as God intended, you met those who had the same intentions as you did, some praising the Lord and some who merely smiled at the statement. 

Among those you befriended in that category was Hansol Vernon Chwe. Hansol, from what you knew, had a golden heart with a soul to match perfectly. You met him one day while waiting in line for a coffee. He complimented the buttons on your backpack and even showed you the same ones he had. You noticed the book he had in his hand since it had been one you were curious about, so you sat down at one of the tables and discussed all the books you’d read and wrote down his recommendations. He was a lot on the goofy side so it was refreshing to see that because, at your age, everyone was stressed over something. (Not that it was a bad thing, but it was a nice change.) He was a little awkward once you started hanging out but once he got comfortable with you, he opened up a lot about his life. 

It wasn’t the happiest but he managed to overcome a lot of his obstacles and you opened up to him. He was a fairly happy soul so when you spent time together, it felt cathartic. You listened to each other’s problems about whatever happened and just enjoyed each other’s company. 

You did have suspicions that the idea of religion made him uncomfortable, but every time you asked him about it, he’d just wave it off and let you continue until the topic could be appropriately changed and you’d eventually forget about it.

But you noticed the closer to the holidays he got, the gloomier he got. You could see the storm in his eyes whenever you passed the green and red colored shops with Santa Claus decorating the windows and his mood soured every time he saw people buying gifts, and you realized he never celebrated the joyous holiday with someone important to him, so on a chilly and windy afternoon, you set off to find something for him and you’d wait until Christmas Eve to give it to him once you finished setting up the nativity set on the coffee table, and then you’d invite him over to give him said gift: a leather jacket and a new beanie to match it. 

There was a knock on the door just as you finished putting the three wise men on the table and you yelled a, “Come in,” while you set up the farm animals around the little area. You continued your humming, setting up the nativity set as you pleased. “Hi Hansol!” you greeted him cheerily.

“Oh...hey,” he said sitting down next to you. He threw his backpack on the couch. “What are you doing?”

“Setting this up. It’s almost Christmas so I wanted to put this up. It’s the most important thing to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. So, uh, you said you wanted to see me?” He tried not to look on the table, the discomfort setting in, the more he avoided it.

You nodded, finally standing up and stretching. You pretended not to notice how he eyed the place skeptically, especially when you walked to the Christmas tree. “I got you something.”

“Why?” His eyes narrowed quickly, the slow boiling anger making you uneasy. Maybe you should’ve brought it up a little later? Maybe after he tried some food from a new recipe you made?

“Because you’re my friend and you’re special to me and all my special friends get gifts.” You smiled at him nonetheless.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas,” he said simply. “It’s stupid.” The off switch hit and he shut down, the way it normally did when he didn’t know what else to do.

You tried not to show the disappointment and hurt on your face, but you didn’t know how to make words come out of your mouth either. The present in your hands felt heavy suddenly and you felt like a fool. “Oh,” you finally said.

“Yeah...holidays don’t deserve to be celebrated when it’s a shit storm all year ‘round,” the sarcasm and bitterness lacing through the happy tone. “You got kids dying, homeless people with no place to go, and when your life is torn apart like mine, well, you get used to it. I gotta go.”

“But you just got here!” you protested, your voice trying not to break.

“And I have somewhere else to be now.”

“Hansol, if I offended you, I’m sorry-”

“You wouldn’t understand. I didn’t mean to ruin this for you.” He patted your shoulder and walked out quietly.

*

The moment he had found out about your religious side, Hansol had known it was gonna be difficult. He often stayed away with people who claimed to have a relationship with God because whenever he told someone that he wasn’t sure if God even existed, it was like a switch flipped. They were usually offended, yes, but then they forced (or tried to force) their beliefs down his throat and just gave him the cold shoulder when they realized they couldn’t convert him. He had been through so much in his life and he had stopped trying to defend his reasons behind it. He was tired of being judged for it, and he hated trying to prove that he was still a good person because he thought it could still be possible. It made him angry; it confused him and it even saddened him a little because he never knew where to turn to.

When he met you though, he thought you were just like him: a lost little soul, hoping to find something, anything. But as he got to know you, and you spoke of God so highly, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Another one for the books.

He liked you a lot though, and despite the barrier, he never felt like you forced it on him. Then again, he waived the subject of God and Christianity and everything it came with whenever his discomfort became too much. He never meant to push you away like he did at your place but it felt like he was backed into a corner. He made his friends (whatever was left of them, that is) and family swear they wouldn’t buy him anything in relation to the holiday in the past because he knew the reason behind Christmas and he couldn’t get on board with that. He would be something of a hypocrite if he celebrated it, so he chose not to. 

He could taste the bile on his tongue from overthinking and he needed to get away from his head. He wanted to call you, but he knew he made you cry the moment he left your house that day. Couldn’t he be your friend and still choose not to believe? Or did you only wanna become his friend because you a.) thought that he was religious or b.) knew he wasn’t and you thought you could change his ways? Neither seemed likely though. You never gave him a reason to believe otherwise

He turned on the radio to hopefully drive his thoughts away, but the moment he heard the song, you automatically came to his mind and a slow smile crossed his face. He remembered you telling him it was your favorite Christmas song over lunch one day when it came on the speakers. You had hummed it and tapped your fingers to it. He liked seeing you happy like that; all of his friends deserved it, especially you. You made him feel welcome, although he never told you upright his confusion with religion. Some days he didn’t believe; sometimes he did, but mostly, he was unsure. He was afraid it’d hurt you and he didn’t want that. 

It was a nice song, he decided right now that he was paying attention to it. Would he add it to his Spotify playlist? No, but that was okay. He could appreciate it because you were important to him..

*

“‘Bye everyone! Thank you for coming! And thank you for the gifts!” You weren’t sure of how much hot chocolate you ingested but you were sure it mixed into your bloodstream. You felt full and content. You invited a few of your loved ones over for breakfast and you all exchanged gifts. The best part of it all was being together, as it should be. There were hugs everywhere, laughter and even a few tears from laughing too hard, all music to your ears. You never felt like you belonged more than in moments like this. God had blessed you with the best people in your life and you’d be going to church later on today to express your gratitude because you couldn’t ask for more (except maybe some concert tickets, but that wasn’t the point here.)

Your gaze landed on Hansol’s unopened gifts and you were overcome with many emotions, unsure of which ones were stronger. You could pinpoint the hurt because of what he said to you and how he said it; the sadness because of the outright rejection and refusal of opening them; embarrassment for not asking him if he wanted something in the first place; anger for not handling the situation the way you wanted to; disappointment because you had at least hoped he would’ve opened them before saying something; and even the hope he’d come to at least apologize. You said a silent prayer that wherever he’d be, he’d try to make the most of this sacred day.

You didn’t know what you’d do with the presents but you couldn’t return them...or give them away. You bought them specifically for him and neither option felt right. Maybe you’d just use them as a birthday gift; it was a couple months away, after all. It’d save you the hassle of shopping for him twice and at least you only had DK to worry about. 

The knocking on your door brought you back but you laughed at yourself for being scared. You felt both giddy and afraid as you opened it and Hansol stood there shyly, holding a makeshift white flag as peace. “Hi, can I come in?”

You nodded quickly and let him in, curiously staring at the guitar his hand. “Sorry about the mess. I was just about to clean up. Did you forget something here the other day?”

“No, but I know I said some things that weren’t right and they probably hurt you. This is embarrassing because I hate singing and I hate Christmas but I didn’t know what else to get you so I learned this for you.” He strummed the strings a few times to make sure they were in tune and a moment later, covered “Silent Night” just for you before he could turn around and walk away. He missed a few words and fumbled a few times but you were endeared nonetheless and he hadn’t even finished when you were bawling your eyes out. 

“Hansol, I-” you wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your pajama shirt at a loss for words.

“I’m not religious,” he started off after he saw you couldn’t complete your sentence, “I haven’t willingly stepped foot in a church in years and I don’t plan to anytime soon. I don’t like today for that same reason and because everyone in my family wants to erase everything that goes on throughout the year too. I’m not sure I even believe in God anymore because I don’t know how someone can be this cruel sometimes. But, I shouldn’t have disrespected you or your beliefs because of my problems. And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Hansol,” you tried again, but you didn’t know what to say. You’d met people who didn’t believe in God, but you never knew what to say when they told you so. This time it wasn’t any different. “You’re still the same person regardless of that. If I had known sooner, then-”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to judge me or try to change me. You’re one of my closest friends and if I lost you because of that...I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Silly boy, only you can decide if you wanna believe. You’re in my life because you’re a good person and honestly, that doesn��t define who you are. I’m not gonna drag you to church every weekend hoping you’ll change your mind and I’m not gonna buy you a bible either. It doesn’t matter if next year you wanna try it. It doesn’t matter if you wanna believe in God, or Allah, or Olofi, or not. But please, at least give me a warning if you’re not comfortable with gifts or anything.” You sniffled again and he pulled you close to him. “I don’t even know what to do with them. You made me feel so bad.”

“I’m sorry. You bought them with good intentions, and I see that now. Would you mind if I opened it?”

“Are you gonna get mad again?”

“No, I’m gonna treasure them for as long as I can because you put so much thought into them.” He lowered his voice, still fighting his discomfort. “Thank you for not hating me. You’re one of the first people I know who’s accepted me.” He choked a little on that last part and it was your turn to comfort him, understanding his pain. You stayed like that for a moment longer and he unwrapped his presents, thanking you more times than you could count for the jacket.

“Hey, isn’t something missing from your thing?” He said just as he was getting ready to leave.

“Oh yeah! The baby Jesus! This is for him after all.” You walked to the TV to grab the minuscule figurine. “Would you like to put him on his bed?”

Although a little uncomfortable, he nodded because he knew it’d mean a lot to you. With trembling fingers, he gently laid him down as heard you singing, taking his hand in yours to give him the strength, and for that he was grateful.

“Silent night….holy night….”

[polar-stars]

Just a little One-Shot on a tad bit of bonding time between the former Central Ladies

Takes place in the “Shokugeki no Kimiko”-Verse. In case you don’t know, the “canon” ships involving these characters in this verse are: EiRin, SoMomo and EtsuNe and there will be heavy implications and mentions regarding that. So in case that there’s something about it that’s not your cup of tea...Here’s your warning. 

-

Just like she always did, Nene arrived first. However her burgundy lipstick, open hair, squared glasses and pale pearl earrings did make her look more mature, even a tad bit more experienced. The days of her innocent, prudish pigtails being long gone. She wore a black, lacy cocktail dress with a wide skirt that went to her knees and probably costed more than all of her striped T-shirts from earlier days together did. Her legs were covered by transparent tights and her feet had dived into a pair of flat pumps. The entire ensemble was covered by a warm, grey coat. With crossed arms she stood in front of the brightly lit restaurant, surrounded by the sparkles of the city’s lights and the misty clouds she blew into the air with every breath.

The next one to arrive was predictively Momo who stepped out of a car that had driven right in front of the restaurant and Nene. While there was still a lot of youthfulness in Momo’s stoic face, one could still tell that she got older as well. Her straight, purple hair had gotten longer and went beyond her shoulders nowadays. There were bits of glitter in her pale eye shadow and small, embroidered flowers on her short dress. Considering that she was not much of a tall person, she made up for that fact with a pair of high-heeled pumps. The purple plush-cat she held close to her chest was the most strongest reminder of the times when both Nene and Momo would meet each other in royal blue school uniforms. “Kinokuniyan. You’re here already.” Momo greeted in usual flat manner. Nene took a step forwards and gave a slight head nod. “Momo-senpai, good evening.”

Of course Rindou was the last one of the party to show up. Even back in their school days, she had always looked the most mature out of the three. The other two spotted her running towards them, her high heels echoing through the streets, laughing and ecstatically waving her hand. Her bright, red locks flew wild and free in the night air and her yellow, cat-like eyes practically glowed in anticipation. Given her sensitivity to the cold, she had wrapped a scarf around her neck and wore a more than thick jacket whose hood had, what the two assumed to be, fake fur attached to it. Dark red lip stick was on her lips while she had settled on smokey eyes for eye-make up. “Sorry for being late.” She giggled when stopping in front of the two, cheeks flushed from the cold and the running. But before the other two could even begin to debate wether they should forgive the lateness or not, they were already pulled into a tight hug.

“Good evening, ladies!” Rindou exclaimed full of joy, as she clutched the bodies of her much more reserved friends closer to hers. “I’m so excited we got to do this!” “Go….Good evening, Rindou-senpai.” Nene was able to press out. Momo was a bit more precise. “I can’t breath, Rindou.”

After a few more seconds, in which Momo felt like being in the grip of an anaconda, Rindou finally let go of the two, of course with a big grin. "I haven't seen you for a long time, Momo!" She chirped. Momo only huffed. Nene brought herself back into the conversation. “I am certain that Momo-senpai is looking forward to seeing you too. The same goes for me, of course.” She explained in her usual dry manner.

Rindou giggled. "Oh boy, for a second there I felt like it’s been only a day ever since I left Totsuki behind." She eyed her two friends from top to bottom. “Appearance-Wise you two have changed quite a bit, especially you Nene, and I am sure you have a lot to tell me. But let's go in first. ”

So Rindou just started to walk, but her friends actually followed immediately. And it didn’t took long till the three of them were sitting at the table reserved by Momo in one of the most decadent restaurants in the city.

"Well then." After ordering, Rindou put her two elbows on the table and rested her head on her hands. A mischievous smile graced her face and her feline eyes glittered mischievously. “Feed me news, Akanegakubo and Kinokuni.”

Immediately surprise wandered over both Nene’s and Momo’s face. "Since when are you using our last names?" Momo finally asked, remembering how a young, short-haired Rindou had shouted enthusiastically a long time ago. "Your name is 'Momo'? How sweet! Here’s a cheers for a good companionship, Momo! ”

"Hm-Hm~" Rindou’s smile widened a little. “I merely make use of the last moments in which I can do so. Or am I not talking to the future Ms. Saito and future Ms. Eizan? ”

Momo raised her eyebrow while Nene’s cheeks turned slightly pink. But before they could even start thinking about what to answer, Rindou’s arms suddenly jerked forward, grabbed Momo’s and Nene’s hand and pulled them forward. "I want to see the engagement rings!"

"Rindou..What was that about?" Pouted Momo, who was startled by the sudden action. Her face also turned a little red. " Ho...Honestly...Rindou-senpai ..." Stammered Nene. "Oooh ~ It looks fairly expensive." Rindou only purred while inspecting Nene’s hand and the small, radiating diamond on her finger. A classic, as well as sumptuous promise for faithfulness, devotion and a life without financial worries. "But I wouldn't have expected anything else from Eizan." Nene’s free hand went to her glasses to adjust them while she looked bashfully to the side. Discussions about love had turned the cool, strict girl, who was not afraid to reservedly threaten death to classmates, into an innocent, shy wallflower.

"I have to say, I never thought I would ever hear that the refined, proper Kinokuni Nene got engaged to..." She let go of Nene’s hand and started tapping her finger on her chin while playfully pretending to be naive. “... what did you always call him back then? Ah yes!” She fixiated her former Elite 10 colleague with an amused and penetrating look. "... the rude, ruthless barbarian."

One of the waiters came and poured the three women a high-quality wine that was exactly the same color as the one that Nene’s head had taken in the meantime.

"In ... third year of high school, he changed a lot." Nene explained, still looking somewhere else as soon as the waiter was gone. Beside her, Momo shrugged. “Momo has always seen it coming. After all, Etsunyan had always had a crush on Kinokuniyan.” She pouted again. "If he hadn't been so clumsy in his courtship, you might even have become a couple earlier and not when Momo left school."

The completely overheated Nene did not answer, but preferred to take her first sip of wine this evening. Rindou, on the other hand, only laughed loud enough for some heads at the other tables to turn in their direction.

Still giggling, she finally turned her eyes to Momo's hand that she was still holding on to. “Then let's see what the good, old Saito gave you- Oh! Well, that's cute!” There was a golden flower attached to Momo's ring and in it was a sparkling green emerald to match Momo's eye color. Rindou couldn't help but smile. Everyone knew how much Momo loved flowers. "If it hadn't been cute, I would hardly have said 'yes'." The wearer of the rings snorted, although it didn't sound too convincing despite all her efforts.

Rindou smiled and released Momo out of her grasp. “It’s nice knowing you two happy then. Glad to know that you can look into the future with someone by your side.” She leaned back and for a few seconds Nene thought she saw a kind of sadness in her otherwise bright eyes.

"And what about you Rindou?" Momo asked and immediately became more precise. "What about you and Tsukasa?"

The glow in Rindou’s eyes returned and a laugh was heard. “What’s there to talk about? Apart from the fact that we both address each other by first name now, kiss each other on the lips and exchange various other forms of affection that I don't have to discuss in public… nothing much has changed between us. ”She started rubbing her cheeks a little like a rapt schoolgirl. "He brings me breakfast in bed, we cuddle a lot and sometimes I wake him up at 3 to see the stars with me." Her voice became a little quieter but Momo and Nene heard complete happiness speaking from her. "It’s like everything’s stayed the same and yet it’s still so much more beautiful."

When she looked back at her two friends, she saw a honest, small and truly touched smile on Nene’s face. Momo just nodded in agreement. "I also always knew that you two would become a thing." She looked at Nene. "Hopefully Tsukasa doesn't take too much time with the wedding proposal, right Kinokuniyan?"

The smile disappeared from Nene’s face and she frowned, almost a little motherly. “Momo-senpai...Don’t rush them.” Rindou had to giggle again.

-

The time passed. Plates stacked with exquisite delicacies were emptied. Topic-changes piled up.

And at some point the overly delicious dessert, which even the extremely critical Momo had praised, was consumed.

"It's late." Nene said, looking at her elegant, silver wristwatch. "It felt a lot shorter than it was." Momo commented. Rindou then just cheered. “That's how it is with good friends!”

For a short while there was silence. Then just when Rindou wanted to call the waiter to pay the bill, Momo spoke up again. "Say Rindou ... I've wanted to ask you all this time, but why haven't I heard much about you and Tsukasa lately?" Her forehead wrinkled. “You are two of the most famous personalities who have ever left Totsuki and yet none of you have opened a restaurant. Is there at least one planned? ”

Nene gave an automatic nod. “I must confess, I was wondering about that as well. It shouldn't be too difficult for you two to get a foothold in the industry. When it comes to opening a restaurant, Etsuya may also be able to help you as a consultant. ”

Rindou remained silent for a moment. Something unreadable in her facial expressions. Then she smiled, though weaker than usual. "As sweet as it is to hear that you want to get your fiancé some work, but neither I nor Eishi have any plans for a restaurant or anything."

"Oh?" Nene pushed her glasses up her nose in surprise. Momo started talking again. “Then what are you planning? You haven't even said anything about your career all evening. ”

The corners of Rindou’s mouth dropped again and this time the silence was a little longer. Then finally she seemed to have found her answer. "Let's put it this way ... it's a surprise."

-

The bill was paid and finally the three found themselves out in the night air again.

"Somei picks me up, he should be here soon." Momo mumbled with a quick look at her cell phone, which after all these years was still in a case that would be associated with a middle schooler based on the look.

"I'm going to order a taxi." Nene said, more to herself, but she still got Momo's attention. “We can take you too, Kinokuniyan. You just have to tell Somei where you live.” Nene looked down at the much smaller companion and started a search for excuses in her head. “Oh no ... that's not necessary. I don't want to be any troub- ” “You aren’t a trouble.” Momo promptly interrupted her. And before Nene could argue, Momo turned to her former classmate. “And you Rindou? We can take you too.”

Rindou only made a fleeting hand gesture. "No need. I much prefer to walk home.” She spread her arms enthusiastically. "There's nothing like a night walk!"

"... night walk?" Momo repeated, raising an eyebrow. "It could be dangerous, Rindou-senpai." Nene pointed out.

Rindou, however, gave them both a charming wink. “Don't worry too much about me. I'm a big girl after all.”

For a few more seconds, skepticism persisted on Momo’s and Nene’s faces. But finally Momo grumbled. "If you really want to." "But please be careful!" Came from Nene.

"I will, I will!" Rindou laughed and walked up to them. "Well, I think it's a goodbye for now." Without warning, she fell forward and pulled her friends into a hug. “Goodbye you two! Greet Saito and Eizan from me. All the best for your sweets-empire Momo and your restaurant-plans Nene. ”

Momo felt that Rindou’s hug was even tighter and longer than at the beginning. Nene didn't want to believe her ears but somehow she couldn't shake the feeling of hearing a slight melancholy in Rindou’s voice.

"Goodbye, Rindou." "Come home safely, Rindou-senpai."

Rindou let go of the two, gave them one of the most beautiful smiles on planet Earth, and then turned away.

[thesummerstorms]

For the characters HCs Darman? He's so precious and we need *more*

Link the meme here. Accepting, but if you send me the whole meme as opposed to specifics it might take a bit. Thank you to anon for the ask.

clothing style.

Dar dresses pretty simply even after he leaves the army. Bright cheery shades of color -anything but red or maybe orange- and well fitting, but comfy. Probably starts wearing dad cardigans very early on. Lots of space!hoodies, which Etain steals. Comfy, practical, cheery. Likes to roll up the sleeves of things to his upper forearm because Etain notices ™ and also keeping the fabric out of the way of whatever he’s working on. That said, he spends as much time in armor as civvies.

before - bed routine.

In barracks, his routine is exceedingly simple. Dar is one of those people who dozes off easy, so he more or less wraps up whatever he’s doing,  figures out the best way to secure the door or react to it opening, washes his face and brushes his teeth and is out. Never trust that you’ll actually get all 8 hours of sleep you’ve been promised.

Out of barracks, it’s a little bit more indulgent. If they have the water/aren’t rationing, Dar likes a second hot shower before he goes to sleep. Checks on the little ones, small snack or maybe hot chocolate, brush teeth. If he’s at home with Etain or they’re deployed to the same place, the he typically has to go retrieve her and coax her into bedtime - he can and sometimes does fall asleep while she’s still working but drastically prefers the bed with her in it even more so with her in his arms or holding him- maybe listen to Etain read or flip through a holozine for the roughly 10 minutes it takes him to pass out. (Etain frequently is taking things out of his hands after he falls asleep.)

In the Rhedian/Etain/Dar verse he has to track them both down, probably, and then they negotiate who gets to be the middle and who gets to be the edge. Darman can only sleep facing the door while laying on his side, so if he’s on the outer edge of the bed, he’s the little spoon and whoever curls up behind him has their arm on his hip, and if he’s in the middle or outer edge he’s big spooning

eating habits

Darman eats a lot. While he’s in GAR he eats big meals and eats them quickly, and it takes a few years after getting out to change the habit in any significant way, but left to his own devices in peace time he’d be a grazer. He doesn’t have strong preferences, taste-wise, but he loves novelty of food choices, even when his wife and kids are slightly intimidated.

As it is, he snacks a lot and is completely unabashed at eating things off of Etain or a brother’s plate. He makes up for it by becoming an excellent cook and spoiling his loved ones with their favorites. Absolutely steals all of the sweets Etain isn’t overly attached to, but makes up for it by offering her a lot of his fruit. Always drinks from her caf cup. When he gets the cure and his metabolism slows down a bit, it takes getting used to.

concept of home and family

He’s got a very, very Mandalorian view of family. Home is where his brothers and Etain and the kids are not only around him but safe and comfortable. Family isn’t blood- it’s the people who he can rely on to have his back no matter what who have chosen to show him love and trust and earn it in return. It’s a chosen obligation and support network.

hobbies.

Cooking, working out, sparring, casual team and pairs sports (though it’s as much about the challenge/social interaction as him actually giving a shit about sports), reading general-interest just casually informative holozines (like, space!Time or NatGeo) , watching the odd romantic holo, playing with his kids,  word puzzles

fighting style.

listen, I do not know enough about SW weaponry /combat or even real life weaponry and combat to answer this question thoroughly. I do think he looks into at least the basics of Teras-Kasi once Sith start showing up looking for his kids.

what calms your muse down after a bad day?

It depends on the kind of bad day. If he’s feeling drained, sometimes a hot shower, a cup of hot chocolate, sitting with Etain as she meditates, his legs bracketing hers and letting her deep breathing set the pace or else just outright cuddling.

But  if he’s restless or overloaded or angry he kicks everyone else out of the kitchen so he can be alone and takes it out on the vegetables until a particularly difficult technique or recipe distracts him and pulls him out of his head a bit. Occasionally he goes back to his roots and works on some stripped down demolitions projects at the nearest work bench. Working out alone doesn’t help in that kind of mood because he’s still in his own thoughts, but if he’s up to being around other people, sparring or some sort of high-intensity pairs game (slingball, etc) does. 

(Depending on her own mood/the reason for the upset Etain sometimes starts out sparring with him but is amenable to shifting to other distractions, too. Sometimes they skip straight to the pinning down if she notices he needs to burn tension and who ever starts off gets the go ahead.)

ways your muse says i love you.

his love language is in nurturing and gift-giving. he’s highly sensitive to small changes in his loved ones demeanor and part of his way of showing them he loves them is immediately trying to give or do something to make them feel better. have they eaten? do they need painkillers?  what’s small thing he can do or give to fix it?

alternatively if it’s less of a “need immediate support” situation he’s still trying to figure out what small thing he can give to show his affection: a stolen gift for Etain, sharing a food he’s fond of, double checking Rhedian’s kit for her without asking, or something he’s made for them in particular “I thought of you, and I want you to be content”.

describe your muse’s laugh.

softer than you’d think, but Dar has a terrible time forcing laughter, so if you hear it it’s warm and genuine or angry/bitter AF and which ever emotion it is feels readily apparent.

what items can be found in your muse’s pockets

assuming we’re just talking civvie pockets and not his gear belt then the star wars equivalent of a swiss army knife, credits, a false identchip (he swaps out which one), spare blank datachip, comlink/holoprojector combo, hard candies that are less prone to melting or some sort of snack, his wedding ring if he’s working on something dirty or delicate, sometimes little handwritten notes Etain has left him on flimsiplast, a stylus and a all-materials marker of some sort 

talk about your muse’s most prized possession(s)

Dar really doesn’t get too hung up on possessions. His wedding ring is highly sentimental but if push comes to shove can be replaced. The only thing he couldn’t easily abandon would be the very few holos he has of his first squad (which, like, SW has the Cloud, right?), a few surviving love letters of Etain’s, and maybe when he’s older and his brothers start dying some of their armor plates.

describe your muse’s walk

He always tends to walk like he’s wearing Katarn armor even if he isn’t: chest forward, long strides, walking with intent and clearing civvies easily out of his way. He does fuck up a knee as an older man, but unlike Kal, no one has to beg him to go to treatment and it only bothers him if he’s been extremely rough on it or he’s run down in general.

talk about your muse’s accent.

A weird, hard to place amalgam unless you know that he’s a clone commando. Part basic non-distinct Core World Broadcast Pronunciation from lots of flash training as a young child, the slightest edge of Kuat and of Keldabe from learning from Kal Skirata, eventual hard edge to his Mando’a that’s unique to the Neshurok district on Nar Shadda. People tend to be surprised he doesn’t sound Concordian, but he didn’t have enough exposure to Fett for that.

describe your muse’s smile

wide, artless, not the “crooked and charming” type so much as genuinely expansive

how often does your muse get sick?

Not too often- he has a good immune system, special genetic modification, and more vaccinations than any reasonable being could keep track of. That said, it’s impossible to avoid getting sick forever with kids.

does your muse know when to rest, or do they push themselves?

Dar’s a lot better at giving himself physical rest (training to make the best use of his efforts and preserve his ability to keep going kicking in) than mental rest in a daily context, though he absolutely has overdone it on missions (conditioning that you are less than your objective and replaceable is a bitch.)

does your muse snore? sleeptalk? sleepwalk?

He snores. Etain says terribly, he says he’s not as bad as any of the rest of Omega, which may or may not be true.

the thing(s) your muse thinks about before falling asleep.

depends on the night. anything from galactic politics to memory of his first squad to the annoying squeak from the air vent that needs looking at to the breathlessness edge of Etain’s voice or her touch before they finally settled down

is your muse a fitful or a quiet sleeper?

Darman has nightmares that wake him up and leave him upset, but unless you’re a Jedi it can be hard to tell because he doesn’t move around very much in his sleep until he wakes up full of adrenaline and gasping. On a normal night, he’s a pretty quiet sleeper and most of his movement comes from adjusting to Etain, who absolutely is restless. That said, he’s fairly easy to wake.

your muse’s thoughts on cops and other authority figures

Cops are initially sorted into the Jaller Obrim schema of tentative friendship/support, but that falls by the wayside pretty quickly when he’s a fugitive from the galactic regime. 

He’s respectful of authority figures in theory and knows how to follow a chain of command, clone-officers being easily followed, but his experiences with Jedi Generals who didn’t know what they were doing, outright malevolent Imperial Army officials, the constant threat of death from the Kaminoans, Kal’s subtle manipulations, etc all mean he keeps a weary eye on them until they prove otherwise.

He doesn’t strive to be an iconoclast, but he’s inherently aware of the danger authority figures pose to his survival and those he loves.

skills and special talents.

cooking, singing, hand to hand, demolitions, shooting, chemistry, covert ops, battlefield first aid, good listener, decent at sketches though he doesn’t pursue it

disabilities or illnesses. 

Darman has very clear PTSD plus possibly some other comorbid mental health conditions. He does have old battle injuries that bother him somewhat as he gets older, including one knee, but nothing that’s immediately physically obvious or debilitating espc since he gets appropriate medical care.

habits and mannerisms.

lots of soft humming or mouthing a song he will never sing alone in front of strangers, deceptively calm expression even when he’s ruminating, going over his gear and equipment for the fifth time as a comfort thing

introvert or extrovert.

Ambivert.

religious or non - religious

Ambivalent- He’s married to a Jedi and the father of multiple Force-using kids, so he can’t exactly deny the whole Force-thing, but he doesn’t philosophize it the way Etain inherently does.

As for te kara’se… again, ambivalence. When Etain start taking to a… worship isn’t precisely right, but neither is relationship with Tarre Vizsla and Ranah teh Naast, he listens and doesn’t disapprove, but also doesn’t necessarily disagree. If he speaks to the Mand’alore of old, if he sometimes asks for advice, when his brothers have gone quiet too long or his wife’s blood is spotting his armor or his children are crying in fear… he doesn’t know whether or not he expects them to listen.The asking is still worth something, though. He’s likely to ask his brothers in the manda too, as much as anything else.

something your muse could never forgive.

injuries to his loved one, especially life-threatening or shattering ones, especially purposeful neglect or abuse or the cheap spending of their life. It’s easier to forgive his own blood spilt than that of his heart.

something that makes your muse smile.

naps in the sunshine, his kids being goofballs or learning something new. a brother earning some new happiness, the little looks Etain gives him when they talk without talking, the pleasure of a new taste or mastering a new skill, someone running his fingers through his hair or holding his hand

something that scares your muse.

the constant risk to his wife and children, and once the Mandalorian “Great Purge” starts to his entire family. the possibility of somehow letting down or disappointing or becoming estranged from a brother. Kaminoans, for years. his own anger, sometimes.

something that gives your muse hope.

Koa and Kad and Scout sitting around the family table solving a problem together, Koa with her aruetii science degree in one hand and a musical instrument in the other, Kad holding baby Etta (Dar’s granddaughter) tightly to his chest with a look of wonder on his face, Etta and Sivvar (Kad’s husband) laughing as they paint a mural on a bare expanse of wall, Etain wrapping a niece or nephew in her cloak as she holds them and smiling quietly back over her shoulder at him, Fi with a baby strapped to his chest, Atin and Laseema curled quietly together in an oversized arm chair, the first time he sees excitement in Niner’s face after the war

how your muse responds to being helped / taken care of.

He’s not used to in originally. With strangers he’s excessively polite, but with someone he actually loves and trusts, he gets incredibly soft- lots of little touches to their hands/arms (or face/neck if romantic or as platonically close as Omega) and his shoulders just kind of unspool tension

how your muse responds to unconditional love.

Similar to the above, but Dar’s loyalty runs deep, and he’s a romantic and a family-oriented person, so it tends to inspire devotion

how your muse responds to danger

To himself, a reasonable amount of stress or anger, but mostly his instincts kick in until later when he potentially has the ability to process how fucked the situation was. he becomes very decisive under pressure but he isn’t taught how to handle it after until he’s been fighting for years.

how your muse responds to stress. // how your muse responds to anger.

He tries to hide a lot of it to avoid being a burden, and it’s way more successful than you’d think. He doesn’t start developing explicit coping skills until after the war and his break down, although he does talk to Omega and Etain about it, alternating between showing them his soul in an expression of trust and hiding things so as not to trouble them.

With anger his protective anger is the easiest to glimpse at first, but eventually it comes out in other situations- normally the thought of being lied to or deceived or used. With all of the above, he gets cold and harsh until it tips too far. Less yelling than quiet anger.

 He’s not by nature inherently violent, but between his training and untreated PTSD, there are episodes where he feels as if he loses control of himself entirely and retreats to the violence he was taught would keep him alive. Part of his recovery is learning to stop things before they get there and recognize his own threat response.

With stress, see the above about bad days. also probably some explicitly PTSD related coping strategies but I’ll admit I haven’t researched that

did your muse grow up too fast?

Absolutely. Dar may have been socially naive on his first deployment, but he didn’t have a childhood, he had a product development phase haunted by the threat of Kaminoan culling.