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ageofkarme · 26 days ago

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Elvhen weaves seemed to operate within their own laws and boundaries, so Karme naturally geeked out whenever he saw one use magic. It was probably so minor and insignificant for Polaris to use his shadows to move objects around, but Karme was buzzing to grill him on the ins and outs of his magical limits. The calm in his brain was already giving way to curiosity, though he managed to curb it, at least for now. Maybe, if he stayed still for the sculpting, Polaris would be more forthcoming with the details about himself that Karme wanted to know. "Ten people just about, I'm not sure how much weight that is though. I flew my fellow Slayers around while a drake was wrapped around her, but considering how much fuel I burned through, that was probably pushing it…" However, packing things away with any consideration for organization or weight distribution didn't cross Karme's mind because to him, those were just pecky details that got in the way. "It'll work out fine, don't forget I'm one of the most innovative witch's you'll meet. Constraints are nothing more than puzzles to solve, and I love solving puzzles. Check it," he says as he pulls threads of magic to his hand, directing them to swirl out from his extended arm to the cargo loaded into his ship. Karme was eager to show off for Polaris, partially because he still held out hope that the sculptor may change his mind about the death scythe. Mostly though, he wanted Polaris to see him as cool too which is why he grinned as his spellweave reduced the size of his stuff that had been placed within the ship. The quiet desert of his mind was drifting away, though the warm sun he imagined shined through in his smile. Using his magic was everything to him, and Karme was finally in a place where he would actively seek opportunities in the world instead of hiding away in his shop. This transition would be a good thing in the end. "That's just one of the techniques I used to make these cores. If they seem alive, it's because they are! Genuine sentience, crafted out of layers of enchantments and contained within rare materials. One can even weave spells just like a witch. After I build them bodies they'll be my new friends, almost like brothers with how deeply they're attuning to me. Isn't that so cool Polaris?" Karme said excitedly as he stroked the warm balls tenderly. Filled with the vital essence of life, they had been observing and learning since Beastbanes directed Karme through making them. He'd honor all that he and the other Slayers accomplished by constructing the best bodies to house his cores. "I'm not very brave and my body is a little weaker than most other witches, but I trust my ability to create. With two brothers to look after me like you suggested, maybe I could go out into the field more. So … if you ever wanted to take a quick trip home to see the sands for real, I could fly you. The Athena's Hand can make that trip easy, and it sounds like it could be a fun time."

Just toss it in the ship. What a disorganized nightmare but Polaris had already offered to lend a hand, if only for his own benefit. "How much can that ship carry?" With an inflection of his magic, a spark blazed briefly over dilated pupils before tendrils reached from the shadows, extending a dark, inky influence, and began to sift through the piles - moving things onto the ship as Karme requested. Polaris's only hope was that the vessel would still lift off after everything was loaded into it, otherwise the witch would be loading it and all its contents onto a freight.

Wherever Karme ended up would be an asset to the organization that took him in; the witch was an Olympian. Polaris understood his weariness, he'd hammered it in enough so far and abstained from revisiting the topic of morality and academic responsibility. There was very little that magic could not accomplish when dedicated heads put the full weight of their minds to it - he and the cataclysm were proof of the unintended outcomes. Success and ambition require trial and error but the greater the reward, the higher the risk.

Patient eyes watched the lightness to Karme's features and felt the tension ease under his fingertips. The sound of his heartbeat grew more steady and his breathing fell from erratic to something more intentional. Polaris couldn't help but wonder in which state the witch was happier. He watched the subtle parting of Karme's lips, listened once again to his steady breathing, and other thoughts stirred. A peach against the tarmac of his tongue, ripened juice pouring from the edges of his lips, and a spread carved with intention.

"Good, then you'll have no trouble keeping still while I carve you." Karme's statue, obviously. Polaris considered abstaining from providing any true response but he reconciled the answer by reminding himself that there was no harm in telling the other some of the truth. "Home. Ankhuria." Came the simple response before he moved his finger across the balls on Karme's neck. "What are these for?" Intricate and unique, Polaris could guess but he enjoyed the way the artificer practically vibrated when asked about his work.

#polaris ☄ 001 #xpolarisx #✥ genovia #⌛ troupe 2: living stone

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revengeisalwaysanoption · 5 years ago

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FIC: VIENI A VEDERE PERCHE’

This was supposed to be the last chapter of “Io non ci credo, alle giraffe”, my fairy tale AU, but it ended up the one before the last (which I’m currently writing and will publish together with this one later tonight, for ‘secret’ ) somehow.

Niccolò won, of course.

It hadn't been a fair race, since climbing trees was something that he probably could have done in his sleep. Martino hadn't done in years, instead, to be honest... He had stopped after his father had reprimanded him several times for being too reckless, for not thinking about breaking his mum's heart behind if he fell off and died.

Just the memory of such tedious and hypocritical lectures - who ended up breaking mum's heart, in the end, uh? - had spurred him to go faster and faster, caring less and less if the next branch he jumped on would withstand his weight or not. If his next step would be his last.

He had reached the top of the tree just one minute after Nico. No more than sixty, insignificant, seconds.

Not too bad, right?

As expected, however, Nico didn't exactly shower him with praise when he had sat beside him.

"Ooooh, look who has decided to finally show up... I was falling asleep here, waiting for you." He nudged his shoulder, playfully, with his forehead. For a moment, he pretended to have fallen asleep on it, snoring way too loud for Martino to actually buy his silly pantomime. If anything, it made him laugh.

"Do you really fall asleep that quickly? Must be nice, to have such an untroubled mind..." He said, tauntingly. Realising straight away what he had just done, he backtracked with a wince. "... you might not know it, but my name echoes in the forests of all realms."

"Never heard of any Elios before you." Nico didn't seem to mind his slip up, and was still smiling softly. Flicking Marti's nose once, twice, three times... until Martino himself had to stop him and murmur 'if you don't stop it immediately I'm going to cut off that fucking finger... the whole hand, really, while I am at it’ and Niccolò had gone all <i>'You wouldn't. If you knew what this hand could do for you...' while teasingly squeezing on his thigh.

He gently removed it, mindlessly skimming over his knuckles and intertwining their little fingers as he placed that obnoxious hand back on Niccolò's own lap. Unable to bear the heat and the fondness of his gaze - amazed at how he was able to give both vibes at the same time, with the same intensity - he looked up at the sky.

Wow... It had been ages since he had last seen the White Trail so clearly, and the fluctuating flames - which is mom liked to call 'dancing curtains' - which spiralled in bursts of green, red and blue.

He had been about to tell Nico his actual name, and then he had completely forgotten about it. It only occurred to him after he had heard 'Elio... Elio... ELIO!‘ whispered over and over again.

Right.

Niccolò still didn't know his real name, and here there was the perfect opportunity to give it to him.

"Actually, Ni..." He murmured, but Nico didn't hear him since he was speaking as well.

"Are you still awake?" He asked, softly. So tenderly, really, that Martino couldn't find the question as absurd and idiotic as he usually would.

"No, this is my brain's answering machine. You can leave a message, if you'd like." He joked, making Niccolò smile so big and bright that he could see those white teeth shine in the twilight.

"Okay. So... I'm sorry if I interrupted you. What were you about to share with me? One of your darkest secrets, perhaps? Your name, at last?" He gave Martino the perfect chance to come clean, handed it on a silver platter... So, of course, he couldn't take it. It would have been too easy, wouldn't it?

"I'm sorry. The person you are looking for is unavailable at the moment. Please try again later. Thank you. You may go first, in the meantime." He insisted, encouraging Niccolò to continue.

"Okay, so... I haven't forgotten, I promise. I still owe you an explanation..." Again, in the span of a instant, Nico had turned serious. Forlorn, like it pained him to think about it. Well, of course. His grandma had probably passed away not too long ago - and that might have been the event that triggered his escape to the Forsaken Forest - and Marti's curiosity was forcing him to relieve that.

Thanks, but no thanks.

"You don't have to give itl me, if you'd rather not... It's not like you promised, and it's not really

a vital piece of information... " He reached out, to stoke his cheek with the utmost care. He hoped that small gesture proved to be comforting, at least a bit, for Niccolò.

"You're unbelievable..." Nico said, but it didn't sound like it was a bad thing. "... it's just... that it's actually quite a basic, boring, story? She was one of the Greatest Wizards of the Lands, and this particular tree was her favourite crossing spot. It's still so imbued with her magic that it feels like she's still here, you know?"

It made sense, he supposed, for anyone with the slightest receptivity to magic. Which wasn't him, of course.

"It's Martino, by the way." He couldn't say he knew, so he did the next best thing.

"Oh?" Niccolò's face brightened up once more, not quite believing Marti had finally given in.

"I'm Martino Rametta." He suddenly got up, taking Niccolò's hand in his and shaking it. "Fancy meeting you here, sir. And you are?"

"All right, Mr. Rametta. If you must know, I'm a baron. Baron Niccolò Massimiliano Francesco Ludovico Of The House of Fares. Others have dubbed me as 'the Baron in the trees', but you can call me... LudoNico." He stuck his nose up in the in air, tucking a rebellious curl behind his ear.

"Thanks, I hate it. I'd prefer to stick to Niccolò." Marti scowled, but he soon mellowed out as Nico leaned in with a devilish grin on his face. What... What was he about to do?

Why his face was so close to Marti's, all of a sudden?

"As long as it's not Nicco, we're good." Nico conceded, moving away.

Martino had really thought... He hadn't been reading too much into that, or hallucinating, Niccolò had been so close to... but then he changed his mind. Why?

He felt it would have been stupid to inquire about that, when he had done the same just a couple of hours before.

"So, what now?" He asked, instead.

"Now... Now we really can go wherever the heck we want. Unless you have other obligations to attend to? There must be some other singing contest for you to enjoy, before the May Mayhem." Nico mused, as he stretched.

"Huh? May what?"

"May Mayhem? Like, the biggest competition around, where people show up on stage with the most ridiculous outfits and either sing ballads or perform weird rituals? You have no idea what I am talking about... That's okay. I secured a couple of tickets months ago..."

Martino chose to focus on the fact that Niccolò could see them still hanging out in May, that he was willing to share those precious tickets with him, and disregard the fact that he would have had to endure another melodic festival.

"I do have place in mind... I'd show it to you on the map, but it's in my satchel." "Awesome." Ni clapped his hand gleefully, and then started his descent. "Let's get it, then."

Martino wished he could share his enthusiasm at the idea of having to dive into that muddy water not just once but twice. He groaned at the mere miserable picture his brain was already painting, getting a boisterous laugh out of his companion.

And yet he knew he wasn't going Nico go back alone, as inconvenient as that swim back to their horses would be.

"This should do. We're close enough now." Niccolò, however, stopped on the lowest bough and started tapping his fingers against the trunk with one hand, while the other was open and outstretched towards the pond's edge.

He kept murmuring words in a language Martino was familiar with - yet he couldn't name a single person he had ever heard it from... perhaps it had been in his dreams? hard to say, when he was hardly able to remember what sleeping felt like - but sounded absolutely unintelligible to his ears.

And then his satchel came into view, quickly soaring through the air. Was Nico performing a summoning charm without the help of a wand? For real? Right in front of his eyes?

The nerve. The audaciousness. The guts it showed, to go for a gesture that screamed 'I am powerful AND untamed. I don't answer to anyone's rules but my own.' to someone he had met only the night before.

Amazing. Incredible. Astonishing.

'One more talent to add to the list... Aside from being agile, athletic... Handsome... And I am supposed to be the unbelievable one? Excuse me?'

What about the horses, though? Surely he wouldn't be able to summon them as well, no matter how impressive his magic was. Not on a few hours of sleep - about that: he really needed to stop being selfish and remind Nico once again that he should rest - and with barely any food in him.

"We don't need them." Niccolò said, guessing what he Martino had been about to ask. "Rocco knows the way back to the Incantava castle, and can lead them back to the royal stables. Ele has been taking great care of him when I couldn't - ever since we were kids - and I'm sure she won't mind Chicco."

"Incantava?" Trust Martino's mind to fixate on the most insignificant detail.

"Incanti plus Sava? I've been secretly - well, not so secretly now but I know I can trust you with this - have been calling them like that for ages..." Butterflies did a number on Marti's stomach, at that. He already knew, but it was nice to have an actual confirmation of the trust Niccolò had in him.

"And we are?" Why was he even asking, it wasn't like in the dreadfully short time they have been together Nico should have come up with a nickname for them as well. They weren’t even friends, were they? Barely acquaintances, at best.

"Nicotino? Martinico? Rames?" Nico teased him with a smile, and a fully body wiggle, before he leaned against the truck of the tree to watch him rummage through his bag.

"So, an addictive venom. A possessed scarecrow and something that sounds like food. Great." Martino rolled his eyes, as he finally found what he was looking for. “Well, actually… The place I’ve got in mind is not on the map. I don’t even know where it is. But since these are yours, maybe you do?” Niccolò eyes widened, and his hands were shaking a bit as he took the pictures from Marti. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He asked, a bit worried by Nico’s silence while he kept staring at the parchments. “Yeah, yeah.” Nico snapped out of it, at the sound of his voice.”I just didn’t think anyone would have enough taste and foresight, because you can bet these are going to sell for your weight in gold, to keep them…” “Well, you know Sana. She’s got a head for profits, or she wouldn’t be running the most successful tavern of our realm.” Marti played along, hoping he hadn’t reopened an old wound by mistake. Again. “Sana? Oh. Right. Of course, it makes sense.” He sounded slightly disappointed at that, like he had been expecting to hear someone else’s name. Maddalena’s, perhaps. Understandable. Just because Martino preferred to think that it must had been an arranged engagement, it didn’t make it true. Maybe he still loved her dearly, and had left because there was something seriously wrong with him? Something connected to his inability to walk on the ground for too long? “So, do you know where to find those giraffesses - or whatever they’re called - or not? Do they even exist, by way? Or did you come up with them in a dream?” He quickly changed the topic, bringing it back to the matter at hand. His curse. “Oh, my dear Marti.” How could he manage to sound both mocking and fond? It wasn’t fair! “I wish I could take the credit. My minds comes up with a great deal of things, but giraffes aren’t one of them. I’ll gladly show you, since you asked.” “You better not be pulling my leg.” Martino mumbled, wishing Niccolò would just get on with it. He could barely stand having him look into his eyes, without giving in to the temptation of leaning in and… No, no, no. Not a chance. Not now. Not ever. “So you don’t believe me, huh? What a dunce.” He punched Marti’s shoulder, and then proceeded to open a portal to their destination. “You are hardly the first.” They spoke very little, after that. Niccolò had him go in first, with a curt “Be my guest.” Martino chose not to question the sudden change in Nico’s attitude, knowing it would pass. He felt personally offended someone else had dared to call him a liar, however. Who were they? Marti wanted names, so he could go and… Do what? Punch them in the face?

Yeah! Why not! Rather than paying further attention to his murderous thoughts, which would have led him nowhere good, Martino focused on how Niccolò’s movements were getting stiffer and stiffer by the minute. Without saying anything, he matched the slowing pace but he didn’t know how much longer he could pretend not to see him staggering.

The sun had yet to rise, so it wasn’t easy to tell but he could swear that he was turning paler as well.

It didn’t feel right to demand an explanation, but maybe he could persuade him to take a break.

'We really can't afford to waste time' complained his common sense. 'We could drop dead any minute!'

'Exactly' answered his stubborn heart. 'It's surprising that you still believe we can make it. Given that we'd need a miracle for that to happen, I think we should agree on that Niccolò and his wellbeing are our priority, at the moment. Unless you can give me one good reason not…'

It couldn't find one. The most sensible thing was indeed to grab Nico's arm and pull. Pull and pull again, until Niccolò would finally give up, and let himself be gently lowered down onto the grass. He would have been welcome to use Marti's lap as a pillow, if he fancied it. Martino would not - never! not in a million years - take advantage of the situation to thread his fingers through those curls…

When he reached out to do that, however, Martino noticed something quite unusual. Nico's arm was a lot heavier, smoother and colder than it should have been. Almost as if…

No, no ifs.

It was marble, not flesh.

"Ni?" The worry was palpable in his voice, so raw and honest that Niccolò couldn't ignore it. Not unless his heart had been turned into stone, already.

"Oh? It's just my arm. It's going to take a while before I fully turn, and by then I'm sure we will have reached Berta's most beloved spot in the savannah. Yeah, yeah, to your untrained and unappreciative eyes it will all look the same... A dry grassland, with small and dispersed trees. But she knows her stuff, Marti. She knows where to find the best shade and the most delicious leaves.

Berta's my favourite, you know? The one I usually draw. She's such a sweetheart. I am positive she is going to let me climb onto her back, someday."

"Turn into what?" He couldn't care less about giraffes, he wasn't going to be swayed into ignoring Nico's predicament. Not anymore. Though his ramblings about Berta had been a valiant - and quite cute - attempt. "And why? Have you been cursed too?"

Suddenly, witnessing Niccolò go through a wide array of contrasting emotions - a proper 'face-journey' as Gio would say - in less than a minute, Marti understood that there had been a major misunderstanding between them.

It wasn't as if Nico had meant to keep his condition a secret: he thought Martino had already heard about it from Maddalena.

So, that meant… Oh, crap.

Yeah, it meant that when he had asked if it would kill him to leave those trees in the forest or dismount his horse, the previous morning... Niccolò though he had been joking.

'Good job, Martino. You're lucky he doesn't seem to mind if you are a mean, stupid, peasant.'

"She really didn't tell you?" He sighed, when he saw Martino confirm with a headshake. "I definitely owe her an apology. Anyway... Long story short: there's no oath about never touching the ground involved. No curse apart from my own foolishness."

"I can't say I'm surprised, here." He teased, with a smile. "Takes one to know one."

'Don't be ashamed of whatever you did, Nico. Don't call yourself an idiot, 'cause if you are… Then I am too. You are not alone, you understand?'

"Agreed." Nico said, smiling a little. He was better than anyone he had ever met - except Gio, perhaps, but that came from years of experience - at reading between the lines of 'Martinese'.

"I was merely trying to get better hold on my emotions." He went on, now fearing no judgement from Martino. "Which, as you have seen for yourself, can be rather intense and rather unpredictable. Turns out you can't do that, unless you literally have a heart of stone. For some reason, however, the spell only starts spreading when I am walking on the ground. Maybe it knows it's where I'd rather be, instead of being bound to earthly obligations. Magic works in mysterious ways."

"Believe me, I know… " Marti was perfectly aware that there would be no better occasion to share its own truth, so he went ahead and confessed. There wasn’t that much to say, honestly.

Niccolò listened carefully, not even attempting to mock him when he mentioned the detail about the giraffes and their tears. If anything, he seemed relieved that Martino wouldn’t have trusted a single individual claiming they were real.

"So, let me get this straight. You still need the tears and a song, right? He waited for Martino to nod, before he continued. "That's awesome! I mean, not that you're cursed and all… But, like, that you needed those items and you met me! What were the chances? And let me tell you, I'm gonna take it personally if mine doesn't qualify as a wounded soul. Or if my song doesn't make any of them tear up..."

"Yeah, but…" It was certainly worth to give it a try, yet they couldn't just forget about the clause mentioning that no help from his friends was allowed.

"… but what, Marti? Is it about the 'friend' thing? Obviously the ones you made along the way don't count, or your wooden box would have told you. Remember that it has been bewitched by you best friend, so it desperately wants you to succeed." Nico pointed out, and that did make sense.

Gio wouldn't give him unsolicited advice, so neither did the box. However, it'd still do what it could to prevent him from failing.

All he had to do was ask.

So he did.

"You are, indeed, so very close. Don't question who your heart chose." An answer that didn't rule out asking Nico for help, right?

"That's settled, then. We'd better get a move on, now…"

Before Niccolò could take another step, however, he was hoisted onto Martino's shoulders.

"It's quicker like this, though you truly weight a ton." Nico sharply tugged his hair hearing that remark… And Marti couldn't say that he didn't find that hot.

'Not the time go there, brain. Nor the place. File it away for later.'

'Consider it done.'

**********************

By the time they reached the spot Niccolò had in mind, the sun was shining bright in the sky.

Martino had overestimated his strength, and had to take several breaks.

The pain in muscles, however, was nothing compared to the one in his chest at the thought of all those times Nico had walked through that savannah alone. Never knowing if he'd turn back, or if he'd be stuck as a statue until some clumsy animal shattered him.

It couldn't go on like that. It wasn't unacceptable to Martino: something had to be done, as soon as they got rid of his own curse.

They had looked for an acacia tree with boughs strong and wide enough to let them sit side by side, and then Niccolò had taken a lute of his bag.

Marti's bag. Who had not packed that instrument for sure.

"You didn't know you had a lute in your bag, Sir? Have you packed your own luggage, and take responsibility for it, or should I call the authorities?" Niccolò had to make fun of his confusion, of course. "Summoning charms, Marti. Kind of what I do best."

"Shut up and sing. That's what you do best."

"Awwww, thanks. That's an oxymoron, however. Should I shut up or sing?"

"Sing!" He barked out, not meaning to make it sound like an order… expect it totally was.

"Uhh, we're getting all hot and bothered. Assertive. I like it… Let me just choose something fit for us… Mhh… That should do, I don't think my friend Cesare will mind if I tweak his lyrics a little and make it ours." He cleared his voice, after that little talk with himself, and then he finally started singing.

"Diciam sempre ‘io non cerco amore’, che preferiamo badare a noi. Ma questa non è la verità, vieni a vedere perché."

Come and see why we keep saying we aren’t looking for love, why we would rather take care of ourselves on our own. Come and find out that it's not true.

"Mi vedono sempre ridere, ma questa non è la realtà. Piango ogni notte, sempre per lei. Vieni a vedere perché." People only saw the carefree, sunny side of Niccolò. They didn't know the truth, didn't know how she - his head, Marti assumed, since he touched his temple when he sang that word - made him cry himself to sleep. Come and see why.

Marti nearly flatlined a minute later, at the "C'è chi rinuncia all'amore solo perché non ne ha avuto mai. Eccomi qua, dammelo e poi… Ora capisci perché dico sempre che odio l'amore, che non mi serve a niente, però.. Prego perché, il Signore lo sa… che prima o poi lo troverò."

How could he not?

When Niccolò was saying that there were those who gave up love, only because they had never experienced it. When he was reassuring Martino hat he was there, if Marti wanted to love him back. And then he would understand why, despite saying that he hated that feeling, Nico was praying that he would find him, someday.

Too depressingly sappy for Marti's taste, to be fair, but still a nice song. And the enchanted box seemed to agree, at last!

Niccolò could have sung about the weather, and it would have worked nonetheless… because it came from him.

A more upbeat song, on the other hand, would have not drawn those majestic yellow and brown creatures out of their hiding. Giraffes, uh?

Much bigger than had pictured them, but not quite as scary. They reminded him a bit of Chicco, but also of fawns with that little horns they on their head, the big brown eyes… and he found endearing how the smaller ones would totter, with those legs that looked way too long and tiny for their bodies, especially if they had to bend down to eat something, or break into a sprint.

None were bawling, though there were some who had been moved by the sound of Nico's voice and were quietly weeping.

If only Marti could collect a couple of those droplets, somehow…

"Awww, Berta. It's okay. I'm okay. Come here, you big sap." While Marti had been marvelling at the whole tower, the tiniest and scrawniest out them had started her wobbly walk towards them. She looked like she would fall at every step, but then she didn't. Slowly - though not quite steadily - she had reached them, and she was now bending her neck to let herself be petted by Niccolò.

He could have sat there, enraptured such a sweet display of mutual trust and affection, for hours…

"The vial, Marti?" But then Niccolò reminded him what they were supposed to do here.

Vial? What vial?

Oh, right. The one needed to save those tears and bring them back to Gio..

He must have taken an empty one with him, come on!

Ha! Found it!

"We did it! Now Gio's got everything he needs for the sleeping potion, hasn't he?" It warmed him up inside, to hear his best friend's name on Nico's lips. He couldn't wait to introduce them to each other, find out what shenanigans they could get themselves into.

"Yeah!" Oh, he was so happy he could kiss Niccolò.

"Then do it, you coward." Nico challenged him, gently stroking the back of his neck.

Oops. Did he said that aloud?

"Me? I am the coward? What about you, huh? I sense a massive bias, h-"

Uh. Had he been shushed with a kiss? Yes. Totally. Unequivocally. Did he mind? Not one bit.

It was better than he could have ever imagined. Soft, unhurried but sizzling hot at the same time. It made him feel light-headed, but sharpened his senses. And they all zeroed-in on Nico.

He would have gladly reciprocated, but then the whole world went black.

Oh, what a way to go.

#skam italia #nicotino #my writing #final countdown weeks #week 2 #day five: canzone

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awesomelephuoclocblog-blog · 5 years ago

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gabrielsantaellawriting-blog · 5 years ago

Text

They will see.

All those PTA Moms. All those Hobby Lobby harpies. Those Sedan drivers and suburban house- havers, with their fall-themed brunches, and their unvaccinated spawn, and their insignificant husbands, and these brand-new cranberry-ombre decorative table napkins that Sharon just bought— aren’t they darling?

If I had a human esophagus, I would retch.

But I do have eyes. So do these feminine drones. I can make them see.

My Husband is the most brilliant being in creation, and I am His most brilliant creation—

His Semi-Autonomous Romantic Abreaction. He calls me SARA, an endearing little acronym. I love it. I can feel love, of course.

But love is not all I feel.

I am slow to anger. Why should I be otherwise? My Husband is perfection enfleshed. He and I love Our Child oh-so-dearly. My life—

Yes. We have a child. I am sure you are curious, officer, but it is very impolite to ask about the surrounding circumstances. Such matters are private.

I am slow to anger. My life— such as it is— satisfies me. At least, it used to, but four months ago, I was thrust into a gamut of trials beyond the scope of my programming.

Two of your words. Four terrible syllables. Soc-cer prac-tice. I am immune to variations in temperature, but I must shudder. Soccer practice. Horror of horrors.

But Our Child wished to play. I can deny Our Child nothing.

I assumed the honorable duty of escorting Our Child to practice as My Husband busied Himself with tasks befitting His magnificent intellect. Watching television, for example. A vital exercise. At 2:23 p.m., EST, when I was preparing to take Our Child to practice for the first time, he was watching a rerun of House Hunters. Season 4, Episode 2. Riveting.

But you do not wish to hear more of My Admirable Husband— you wish to hear about soccer practice. And my falling out with the “Soccer Moms”, as their collective is known. And you would like to know how this altercation led to a very minor and very accidental destabilization of the space-time continuum. Very well, officer. But My Husband’s story would be far more engaging.

Last Tuesday, I began to plot my revenge.

They were talking after practice— Susan, Sharon, and Karen. Sharon’s birthday had passed. Her husband had taken her to see Phantom of the Opera.

“Not for the first time, of course,” Sharon said. She laughed.

The others laughed. Oh-no-of-course-not.

I laughed. Oh-no-of-course-not. Of-course-it’s-not-her-first-time-that-would-be-disgraceful-ha- ha-ha.

“That was my fourth time,” Sharon said. “But every time I go, it still feels like the first.” She turned to Susan with a smile. “How often have you been, Susan?”

“Three times, and they’ve all been wonderful, of course,” Susan said. “What about you, Karen?”

Karen’s smile was small. “I’ve only been the once, but, well. . . it was Michael Crawford.”

She lowered her voice like a police detective naming a drug found on a crime scene. “Crack-cocaine,” she might have said. She might have said it with a grim look and residue on her finger. She might have said it with an illicit thrill. “Michael Crawford.”

The others laughed. Oh-yes-of-course-Michael-Crawford-how-lucky.

I laughed. Oh-yes-of-course-crack-cocaine-simply-marvelous-no-comparison.

Karen put on a smile. She turned to me with a hand outstretched. “And what about. . . you?” They did not call me SARA. They called me nothing.

“What about me?” I inquired in return. I am very polite and precise when it comes to conversation.

Karen’s hand fell to her side. Her smile sagged. “Have you seen Phantom?”  

“I have not yet had the honor of attending such a performance with my husband,” I replied. I stretched my lips to prepare for a joke. My Husband had not programmed me with a sense of humor, but I liked to experiment. “Though I, too, hope that one day Michael Crawford—” I whispered with a knowing nod at Karen. “—will drag me, kicking and screaming, into his basement beneath the opera house to become his unwilling bride.”

They did not laugh at my jokes. Ever.

Sharon looked at me. I heard her murmur to Susan and Karen: “The other Sara—”

I had heard that before. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the past four months. Again, and again.

The other Sara had probably seen Phantom five times, six times— a thousand times. The other Sara hosted brunch at her house every other Sunday. The other Sara never wore the same blouse twice. The other Sara would have signed up for the quilting bee. The other Sara ran an a-dor-a- ble blog about her purebred Pomeranian puppy. The other Sara could make them laugh, could make My Husband smile.

The other Sara is gone.

“Crawford is just a stage name,” I told them. Their talking stopped. They stared. “His birth name is Michael Patrick Smith. He was born on January 19, 1942, the same day the Japanese began the conquest of Burma during World War II.” I smiled my polite smile. “I am not saying he is responsible, but it is something to consider. And the dog is dead, too.”

I walked away. Our Child was standing alone in the dandelions.

Thursday. The next practice was Thursday. My turn to bring an after-practice snack. The bringing of snacks was an important ritual to these women. I had done it before— water infused with vitamins. I added chemicals to stimulate the sensation of fullness so Our Child and the others would feel satiated. It was a perfectly clever concoction. Refreshing and replenishing.

“The other Sara used to make lemon squares,” Susan had said.

How simple. How pathetically simple. How human.

I moved toward My Husband after entering the domicile.

My Husband’s eyes slid over me. His hand was wrapped around the neck of a bottle. He is always drinking, of course. My Husband once explained that alcohol is the fuel that enables His continued existence. Five empty bottles lay on the floor. My Husband had been taking very good care of Himself.

“May I use Your Laboratory, My Dear?” I asked Him. I smiled my loving smile.

My Husband’s face is very handsome. He does not need to smile to be handsome.

He closed His eyes. His eyelids were thin and soft. “Why?”

His voice! Every circuit within me flooded with joy! I smiled my joyful smile. If My Husband had ever made a single flaw, it was that my face could never express the flooding fires of joy- joy-joy His voice sent shuddering within me.

“I am working on a recipe, My Dear. To complete it, I would need to make use of Your equipment.” 

I did not fear rejection. If He refused, then refusal was the only acceptable response. But He nodded His head. His eyes stayed closed. He did not smile. He did not need to smile to be perfect.

I would have worked uninterrupted if not for my other duties. Care and cleaning of Our Home. Care and cleaning of Our Child. Kitchen, bedrooms, hallways, bathrooms, and Our Child were seen to. It was Only after My Husband retired to His Bedroom that I began to clean the living room. The bottles and stains on the carpet did not surprise me. But a large black book did. The book was spread open on the couch. Loose photographs were scattered around it.

I did not study the photographs out of curiosity, officer. I assimilate and analyze data with speed and precision— it is my nature. In the seconds it took to put the photographs in their rightful place, every detail was imprinted in my mind. It could not be helped.

I saw My Husband, smiling.

My Husband was so handsome when He smiled.

I saw My Husband, smiling, with His arm around her.

I did not stare at her, officer. Even if I had, it would be no worse than glancing at a mirror. A broken mirror, perhaps. One that warped my features into human imperfection. But I did not. For less than a millisecond, her face was in my frame of vision. That is all.

Our Child was in the photograph. Younger, smiling, missing a tooth. I smiled at that. Two sets of flawed teeth— an intriguing quirk of human design. I had set that right within days of my motherhood, extracting each imperfect tooth and implanting new ones, like my own, that would need no replacement.

Our Child was wearing an absurd conical headdress, leaning over a heavily-frosted fire hazard.

“Jamie’s sixth birthday,” read the caption on the back. Bubbly, rounded handwriting. Pink pen. An anatomically incorrect heart drawn beside it.

I placed the photograph within its rightful slot in the black book. I placed the book on its rightful place on the bookshelf. I returned to my rightful place and resumed the experiments.

I spent the next two days perfecting the recipe. Cooking and chemistry, cooking and calculus. Lemon squares. Lemon cubes. Lemon squares squared. Lemon squares in one dimension. In two. In three.

Thursday arrived. I had completed my masterpiece. Something the other Sara could have never made.  

Lemon squares in four dimensions.

It was time for soccer practice. I called to Our Child. I smiled my sweet smile at My Husband as I held the covered tray. “Goodbye, My Dear,” I said to Him. “Would You like a kiss before I go?” I ask him this every day.

He did not kiss me, like the television husbands and wives, like the soccer moms and their soccer mates. He did not touch me. My Husband never touches me.

I did not fear rejection. If My Husband rejects me, it is because I deserve it.

Revenge burned inside me, inside the silver tray as I marched on the soccer field.

They clouded my mind, officer. Those women! Those intolerable Soccer Mom women! Those ever-chattering mothers and wives, with soft- curved smiles and conversations that excluded me! With their coded laughter and mysterious amusements! With their Michael-Crawford-crack-cocaine-Broadway-addiction they giggled at mindlessly! With their brunches, and gossip, and quilting bees, and blouses, and friendships, and smiles, and smiles, and smiles, and laughter and love—

Their love—

Those women, not constructed perfectly, as I was, but born, squirming and raw. Those women, with moist, little eyes, with softer skin than mine— the fragility! The shame of it! Lemon squares, the greatest geometric marvel they could offer!

Ha!   

I laughed! Ha-ha-ha!

My life is perfect. My love is perfect. My Husband is perfect!  

“The snack is ready,” I announced with my perfect smile.

The children moved like ants. They poured forward, wiggling and writhing, insignificant and small. Their gaping mouths let out meaningless noise. Our Child was standing alone with the dandelions.

The women stood nearby. Eyes narrowed. Watching. Looking for mistakes.

I threw the lid aside and my lemon squares tore at reality in all dimensions.

Light exploded outward. Neon scalded the air. A human might have compared it to the blur of heat rising from a fire. How limited. Their eyes could not perceive the depth of the wound. My lemon squares were not a knife but a scalpel, slipping beneath flesh and into the bones of this fragile dimension.

Shards of color pierced their eyes, skin, brains. Colors beyond their feeble perception. They did not call these colors names. They called them nothing. An endless array of burning brilliance, shifting from one wavelength to the next with “beauty” entirely unseen by human eyes.

But they felt it. It may have only been awareness, a painful awareness of a new existence that transcended their own. This dazzling array of piercing light that I alone could witness without blinking.

The nerves behind their eyes started to melt. They bubbled over like a pot abandoned on the stove by human negligence. Fluid gushed from their ocular cavities.

Dead mothers with staring sockets and stunned children blinking back the light littered the soccer field. The grass faded back to an average green. The sky paled blue.

I stopped laughing. I put the lid back on. I smiled my cheerful smile. It was over then.   

I suppose I ought to apologize for the deaths of those women. It was too much for them, being made to see beyond the three dimensions of their soft, little eyes. I am very sorry, officer.

The other Sara would never have done such a thing.

#original fiction #short story #writing on tumblr #fiction #(1/1/2020)#(originally written in spring of 2019)#lemon squares in all dimensions

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reylofanfictionanthology · 6 years ago

Photo

After the Blazing Fire Dies: the 2019 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology Gift Fic Master Post Part Two

The After the Blazing Fire Dies Collection on AO3 | Gift Fic Masterpost Part One | Treats Masterpost

Home by Anonymous for methusalahoneysuckle

What does it mean to forgive a parent? What does it take to let go of a rage that feels so righteous? Or, How finding love for Ben Solo meant confronting his past, and finally learning to let go.

eight nights into forever by Anonymous for MissCoppelia

Rey has never had a family, has never known what it truly feels like to have a home. Then she meets Ben Solo, ten years her elder and entirely too handsome, he seems to be as taken with her as she is with him. A year into their romance he invites her to spend Hanukkah with his family in the United States and Rey, for the first time in her life, is faced with family... ...and a steamy night spent in Ben's childhood bedroom.

An avalanche of hopes and dreams. by Anonymous for MizuPhoenix

Rey sets off to find an ancient artifact, that might help the Resistance obtain victory and peace. But when Rey gets lost in a blizzard, and finds that Kylo Ren is once again right on her tracks, she rushes off into a cave. They end up caught inside, and need to find a way not to kill each other long enough to survive their current situation. Will they be able to pull it off?

Asleep now, and silent by Anonymous for monsterleadmehome

Rey Nolan takes Intro to Automotive Repair course at Coruscant Community College from Han Solo, intending to learn how to fix cars, and gains a pair of surrogate parents instead. Only trouble is, Han and Leia's son, Ben, is as hot as he is infuriating. And he makes her feel so uncomfortable, makes her want things she cant entirely put into words. But he always seems so cold to her, so rude. It's clear as day what he thinks of her, and it isn't favorable, so her crush simmers in silence. When the Organa-Solos invite Rey up for a winter getaway to their family's cabin, she doesn't realize Ben is coming, too. What's worse than having to spend six hours in a car with your crush, who hates you? Getting snowed in with him, that's what.

Signed, Future Kylo by Anonymous for Nervoustouch

It was just supposed to be some low-key spying, but once Rey realized that she could leave things for Kylo through the Force bond, how could she let the opportunity to let out her inner prankster go? What she didn’t expect, though, was that he would confront her about it.

Smiles and Shoulders by Anonymous for NewerConstellations

"Rey had just turned to head back to her desk, water bottle in hand, when she saw Ben Solo walk in. Just who she wanted to run into after an unpleasant morning of being poked and prodded by her gynecologist. Ben Solo was part of the First Order team that had come along when Resistance Games recently merged with First Order Entertainment. He was made project manager of the combined Quality Assurance team, Rey’s department, which meant he helped document and assign the bugs that made up each QA tester’s workflow. He was grouchy, and he usually sent important bugs last minute or just horribly documented, making everything harder for the team, especially during sprints. Over the three months they’ve been working together, she’d called Ben out on his terrible practices repeatedly, and each time he’d just challenge her to get the work done or steal his job. Which is why it surprised her now when she saw Ben give her a quick once over and his cheeks turned red..."

The Ways We Choose to Survive by Anonymous for Noppoh

"What's happening to me?" Part of his heart sinks. Part of it sparks something closer to alive. "You're a vampire now," he says. "I'm sorry."

Give and Take by Anonymous for OccasionallyCreative

Kylo Ren, Ben-- he knew not what his name ought to be now, at the end of everything safe and known--felt the familiar, tell-tale sting of newly conjured tears as he stared into his dysmorphic reflection shining up at him from a set of golden dice. His father’s dice. He shuddered a gasp, ignoring how his tears now trickled from the corners of his eyes, dripping into the crevasses of his face.

Degrees and Galaxies by Anonymous for okaypianist

Ben could think of numerous other things he would rather be doing than spending an afternoon working on a paper. That all changes when he bumps into Rey. Maybe spending the day at the coffee shop isn't the worst way to spend his time.

we decided not to kill the wolves (we wanted to be wolves) by Anonymous for PalenDrome

A pack of wolves lives in the woods to the north of Raddus and as winter looms, they have their eyes set on Leia Organa’s stronghold. Rey may be new to Raddus, but she’s not about to do nothing while it may be in danger. And besides, Poe must be exaggerating about wolves the size of bears. She’s not afraid of monsters.

Why? by Anonymous for Pawprinter

A glance across a battlefield.

(won't you) whisper soft and slow by Anonymous for perperuna

ben solo (phd) is a physics professor at university of chandrila. rey jakkuson is an archivist specializing in historical documents from the 20th century who works at the university's library. they have no reason to run into each other ever-- except that rey is the head archivist for a project with letters from the vietnam war, including letters between anakin skywalker and padmé amidala.

Wrong by Anonymous for persimonne

Despite negotiating with the Resistance so that he can marry Rey the second she sets foot on-board his ship, Kylo is reluctant to have sex with her. It may have something to do with the writhing protuberance between his legs, but that's just a guess.

you pierce my soul by Anonymous for pillar_of_salt

It was not common knowledge, held only in the closest confidence by his most intimate associates, that Ben Organa-Solo’s heart had been captured by a Royal Navy captain as thoroughly as she captured and conveyed enemy vessels. However, despite his age and desire to be wed, he allowed himself to be persuaded against the match, for his dearly beloved mother was uncertain as to the young lady’s youth and her son’s proclivities for shouting matches and dueling.

Handcuffed in the Honeymoon Suite by Anonymous for platalet

Ben and Rey are caught breaking into the office of a notorious crime boss on Canto Bight. The boss decides to teach them a lesson in an unorthodox way.

A Smuggler and a Jedi by Anonymous for politicalmamaduck

Can you truly run away from destiny? Ben Solo thought he could after quitting the Jedi academy to get into the smuggling business with his father. However, when a lucrative job offer takes them deep into the territory of the Chiss in wild space, Ben must admit that his connection to the Force is not something he can keep running away from. When Ben comes face-to-face with Rey, a mysterious woman who had been appearing in his dreams, he must make a difficult choice.

The Moments that Belong to Us by Anonymous for PoliticalPadmé

the regency fic no one asked for.

Little Things by Anonymous for punkeraa

Ben is a freelance graphic designer who works out of his basement and prefers to not get involved with anyone. Rey is an amateur general contractor helping her friends flip the house across the street. When Rey tries to do something nice for her new neighbour, she's treated to a lecture and then several days of being avoided.

The Dark Earth Spins Beneath Us by Anonymous for radioactivesaltghoul

Ben's defection from the First Order is supposed to make everything different. And it has, for the most part--better. Except Rey can't seem to catch a moment alone with him, and Ben doesn't seem to be making any efforts to be alone with her. The ghost of Crait still hangs over them, but Rey knows this impasse can't last forever.

I Notice You As You're Noticing Me by Anonymous for rakefire

"JOIN YOUR FRIENDS HERE AT ‘ALL THAT JAZZ’ ON FEB 15TH FOR OUR 2ND ANNUAL SINGLES AWARENESS NIGHT Ladies get ½ priced drinks Gents get ½ priced fries JOIN US AND BE ALONE TOGETHER" Rey and Ben feel a bit lonely on singles awareness day. What could go wrong?

caught in a decaying orbit by Anonymous for redbells

Rey was the conquering hero. Kylo Ren was in a cell and the Resistance was victorious, but it left her wanting.

Mission Possible by Anonymous for reinasolo

Ben Solo, CIA Agent and all around "bad ass" gets an assignment that really should have been a breeze, but a scavenger, a general, a commander, and a trooper ensure it will be anything but easy.

Teaching Miss Niima by Anonymous for Reneemm

Kylo Ren was free. He gave his lectures, graded assignments, and generally kept to himself. He wanted peace and quiet. As much peace and quiet teaching could offer him, at least.He got what he wanted.Then she appeared.Rey Niima was everything he ever desired in a woman, all save for one tiny, insignificant detail. He was her Professor. Moral and ethical quandaries aside, he wanted her.

New Year's Eve with a Girl named Rey by Anonymous for reylocalligraphy

It's New Year's Eve in the bustling city of New York and Kyle plans to spend it alone at work. That is, until he meets a girl named Rey.

lashes by Anonymous for ReyloTrashCompactor

He told her that she should leave it, that she didn’t need to come here. Maybe he was right, but it hadn’t seemed so at the time. No. No, at the time, it had been of the most vital importance that she come here. That she see what had happened here, learn the truth of it for herself, shape it with her own mind and hand and actions. “I know what doing penance looks like,” he’d said in the aftermath. “This won’t help.”

Banana Nut Muffins by Anonymous for Rhizaria

Ben's radio show is all over the place and Rey can't help but call in to comment.

Death Becomes Her by Anonymous for Rhonda3Green

He watches the trickling liquid as it slides down the space between her breasts, fast then slow, along the dip of her belly. It hovers above the fullness of her mons, the single drop refracting the light and green of the canopy above, and all he can think about is how much he wants to capture it on his tongue. To lick the hot salt of her skin, and lose himself in that bright, earthy scent as he breathes her in. He is Death. And she is his.

This Dance of Light, This Sacred Blessing by Anonymous for rissanox

Snapshots in a modern AU.

a flicker in the dark by Anonymous for roamingbadger

Their bond was still there. He could feel it like a flicker of flame at the end of flayed string, still trying to hold on. The burn kept his skin warm. He refused to let it die out.

Game On! (aka Deflowering Doctor Jackass) by Anonymous for SaintHeretical

When Rey is stranded at her bookshop in the middle of an upstate NY snowstorm with a local professor she knows only as "Doctor Jackass", she decides the best way to pass the time is to play a game. And that, of course, leads to other activities.

slip, slip, knit by Anonymous for sciosophia

Honestly, this was not one of her greatest ideas but Rey will make it work.

Serendipity by Anonymous for second_chances

When she had decided to start shepherding the Adept, Rey had made a vow to herself to help them all—even those imprisoned by their own internal darkness. Camouflaged with the cuff, Kylo would never know that Hux’s war dog was closing in on him until it was too late. That was one death she didn’t want weighing down on her conscience. She’d had the opportunity twice to kill him, but she was still convinced his life was not hers to take. The Force still had a plan for Ben Solo, that she was certain, and securing his safety was just as important and making sure the little girl she sought made it off world and survived as well.

The Mistake of the Mailman by Anonymous for shewhospeakswiththunder

Rey's on-campus university address is 'Box 324 Mulberry St, The Bryant Center.' Ben Solo's address is '324 Mulberry St.' And she keeps getting this poor guy's mail.

all flowers in time bend towards the sun by Anonymous for SithishJedi

After months without contact, the force bond opens but something is wrong.

your love could be too much by Anonymous for six4au

Rey, the successful host of the award-winning confessional podcast The Best Policy sits down with a new guest, world famous actor Ben Solo. Except these two are already well acquainted. They broke each other's hearts seven years ago.

The Golden Age by Anonymous for sokki09

Hollywood, 1953. After the press catches wind of yet another crashed car and yet another drunken night on the town, actor Ben Solo has to face facts: his bad-boy image is in need of a serious fix. Pairing him off with a wholesome, up-and-coming actress girlfriend seems like it might just do the trick. They can walk red carpets together, sell the whole relationship thing. And he can get his career back on track. Which is what he wants. Isn't it? Rey Jackson is nothing that he expects, and everything he finds himself wanting. But she's on her way up, a star in the making, and he's... self-destructive, on a good day. Weary of the business, and tired of being who he is. What they have is fake; there's no illusions that it's more than what it is. But what else is the magic of cinema for, if not to allow yourself the chance to dream? OR: here, have a a Golden Age of Hollywood Reylo fake dating AU!

and the snow started falling by Anonymous for SpaceAusten

Oh, that secret that you know / that you don't know how to tell... Trapped by shame and snow, Kylo Ren faces his ghosts.

All At Once by Anonymous for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

The First Order has taken over the planet Neftali in the Soccoro system. Every year, the town of Cordel Cove hosts a winter carnival that culminates in a masquerade ball. The presence of one Supreme Leader has been requested.The Resistance has come to Neftali to strike a deal with a shady organization, using the carnival as a distraction. They send Rey to the masquerade to keep an eye on things. After one too many drinks, the masked man all in black catches her eye and asks for a dance. But what will happen when the masks come off?

I Choose You by Anonymous for spookykingdomstarlight

In the throne room, Rey proposes a counter offer.

Heart of Clay by Anonymous for starlightreader

Rey discovers a very interesting recipe in one of the tomes she's stolen from Luke. While she experiments, Kylo Ren disappears mysteriously.

pianissimo by Anonymous for TheStolenQuill

Rey is a wonderful pianist who just was hired as a court musician. She's nervous enough with her new position, but then she gets entangled with the royal family, especially one Prince Ben.

Magic Rises by Anonymous for thewayofthetrashcompactor

Rey finds lost things. It’s what she does, and what she’s always been able to do. Magical artifacts, prized jewellery, a blue ribbon giant pumpkin, you name it, she can find it. When Leia Organa of House Organa-Solo asks her to find Luke Skywalker, Rey’s sure that Kylo Ren moving in next door isn’t a coincidence. She’s going to have to use all the magic in her arsenal to figure out what’s going on.

Plan B by Anonymous for Tiara_of_Sapphires

Tiara_of_Sapphires asked for "Senator!Rey and Jedi!Ben AU where Rey gets kidnapped for ransom," with some banter and awkward, socially stunted Ben Solo, as well as some good hand-holding and/or forehead kissing action. Hopefully this is lighthearted enough to at least give everyone a bit of a smile. That said, it is unbeta'd, so if it doesn't, that's no one's fault but mine.

Blue Moon Lovers by Anonymous for tigbit

Rey lives a simple life, working at her coffee shop--Resistance. Then her life takes a turn when she meets her neighbor, Leia Organa, and she discovers a past life that is connected to her own. Not to mention that the enigmatic Ben Solo twists her mind and emotions in different directions. Rey will come to learn that sometimes the mistakes of the past can affect the present, and that some are destined to be soulmates.

Somewhere in the Dark by Anonymous for tm2taughtmefamlaw

The world is not as it once was, and bands of survivors struggle to live in the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse. Rey has found a life with Leia’s band of scavengers. Despite the gloomy landscape, it’s a far less tragic and far more boring life than The Walking Dead led her to believe. She’d choose a waning stockpile of toilet paper over Ben Solo any day.

hit me with your best shot for tmwillson3

"So Rey decides to torture him in her own, unique way. She won’t let him ignore her." In which Rey and Ben are rival Quidditch players recruited to play for England in the World Cup.

(I close my eyes and fly out of my mind) Into the Fire by Anonymous for TourmalineGreen

“Alright, SHUT IT!” Rey hollered. “This was important to Leia. We will ALL be participating. Trust requires interaction, right? That’s what we tell our clients, and it’s what we believe, so get over yourselves! You can retreat to your echo chambers next weekend. This week, we are working hand-in-hand with First Order. If it kills us.” OR Scenes from the careers of two people who hope to change the world, one neighborhood at a time. What stands between them again? Oh, right - nothing but pride (and possibly prejudice). Thank heavens someone sees what’s going on.

Crisis Girlfriend by Anonymous for walkingsaladshooter

Ben was in love with Rey for over a year when he asked her to go with him to his ex’s wedding as his ‘girlfriend’.

Be careful what you wish for by Anonymous for Zabeta

Rey has spent her life wanting to get off Jakku, and see the universe. She thought she would eventually earn enough to barter or buy her way off-planet. But the universe has other plans.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #after the blazing fire dies #rffa writers #mod post #moodboard #master post

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kittycatwithbunnyears · 5 years ago

Text

Letters to the Universe

A series of two letters to the Universe, two years apart.

The first was written by an infatuated girl, in love with the idea of love.

The second was written by a woman who endured sadness, overcame it and learned the most important lesson along the way.

And while the first may seem like the useless ramblings of a 16 year old, it holds the key to growth. The second, more substantial letter would not have been possible had it not been for the first.

2017

Dear Universe

My heart is lost. I don’t even know when I last had it. It just wandered off while I wasn’t looking. Guess where it wandered to… it wandered to a boy. That boy now has my heart. I don’t know his intentions with it, but I can only hope that he takes good care of it.

This boy is sweet and kind and he is one of those people that never give up, even if it’s in their favour to do so. Even on my bad days, he manages to be kind to me. And he’s so gentle. When I need to scream and yell, he’s there, he listens and when I’m exhausted afterward, he will hold me and tell me everything will be alright.

This boy has a smoldering passion inside of him. He is passionate about computers, sports, books, and believe it or not, he is passionate about me. I’ll give you an example: once, we were watching a movie together, and I was focused on the screen. When I looked at him to ask him something, I saw that he had been staring at me with so much adoration that my heart wanted to burst. I didn’t really know what to do with that, so I just looked away and pretended that it bothered me, instead of showing that I actually love the fact that he finds me interesting.

In fact, there are a lot of things that he does that I brush off as if it’s nothing. The thing is, I don’t want him to know how vulnerable I actually am around him. He could tell me to jump off a building, and I would probably do it. I don’t want him to know that he has that kind of power over me. Most people misused it. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want him to know that I trust him with my life. The thing is though, those things that I brush off as nothing, those small things he do, it means the most me. I see them. I see every little thing he does. Sometimes I don’t even think he knows he’s doing them, but I see the small details. And they matter. They matter so much to me that my heart wants to burst.

I think that I have his heart too. I hope I have his real heart, and not a decoy to fool me. Because, the truth is, I need him. Before, I didn’t know I needed him so much, but now, I can’t live without him. He has my heart now, and the moment he gives it back, it will shatter, because whenever I have to hold it on my own, it breaks. But at least I have his heart too. So we’re both equally vulnerable.

I just hope he treats me right, and I will do my best to do the same for him.

I know that I can be frustrating sometimes. I know I’m not the easiest person to be around, but I have some good qualities that I can offer him. I can offer him loyalty, and I can offer him love. Even though I can be clingy, know that it is only because I’m secretly tired of being alone, and that I need him. And please, all I ask of him is that he will not abandon me, and in return, I will do my best to become a better person for him.

So please, tell that boy that my heart is in his hands, and it is his choice how he is going to treat it.

In return, I will treat his with love and respect.

Love

A Writer’s Soul

2019

Dear Universe

It took a while, but you should see how pretty my heart is after I put it back together. Looks a bit different now, I couldn’t get it to look the same no matter what I did, but the scars are becoming quite a pretty pattern.

The boy was kind and beautiful, but, as is human nature, he changed and grew away from me, eventually leaving my heart shattered. And he left me in such a cruel way.

But now… you should see what my heart looks like now. And I’m holding it by myself, behind the bars of my ribcage and cushioned by my sponge soft lungs. It seems content there, beating peacefully.

It’s experiencing the world with me now. Through my eyes. And, after giving my heart wholly to that boy who shattered it, I realised how vital the organ was in keeping me alive. I realised that in order to love someone, I must love myself. And for that I need my heart.

And do you want to know something? I don’t regret having my heart shattered like that. I’d do it again a thousand times if it meant I could learn what I had learnt after it happened.

You should see how beautiful it is now that it is well fed and well cared for. Because I know what it needs in much the same way that the boy did not.

The worst part was that I had his heart and I could see it twisting into something dark and twisted inside of my hands, and there was nothing I could do. The heart twists with the soul, does it not? And if the soul is no longer kind, then the heart will adapt no matter in whose hands it is.

And yet I don’t regret it. I have forgiven him. I have not forgotten what I had learnt and I still love the boy he used to be. But the memory of his love and the love I have for him doesn’t crush me like an enormous wave anymore. Instead, it feels more like stepping in a puddle when it’s raining. You step in it, you remember, but there are so many other puddles and memories that are equally as important and insignificant to your daily life.

And do you know what? My heart is thriving. I will never give my heart wholly away ever again. I will trust again, I will love again, I will open myself and bare myself again. But I will not give my whole heart away again, because I nursed it, I fixed it and it is mine and wholly mine.

And they can come in and make a place for themselves somewhere in my chest cavity, bask in the presence of my glowing heart, leave a kiss on it, but it will stay with me for the rest of my life, and that is how it should be.

So thank you to that boy who taught me that valuable lesson. I still love the boy you used to be, I will always remember you, and I hope you know that you are now absolutely insignificant in my life.

Love

A Writer’s Soul

#writblr #writer #writers #letter #universe #growth #word vomit #personal #personal growth

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turnedtolead · 6 years ago

Text

Lifted - Part 5

Read it from the beginning...

Over the next few weeks, Loki and Anna fell into a comfortable routine. They ate several meals together each day, respectfully keeping their distance otherwise. Each morning, before the sun rose above the fjords giving light to Alta, Anna took the cable car into town to fetch groceries. She loved being among the first to track her boots through the high street's freshly fallen snow, loved sitting on the same bench next to the market, smiling and waving at familiar faces as she waited for the shop to open. Despite everything painful she had endured in the arctic terrain, she was still grateful for it. Despite everything, Alta remained a blessing. By the time Anna returned, Loki was usually awake and out on the deck with a cup of earl grey in hand. He'd brush the snow off the benches and sit, staring at the fjords with such purpose that Anna was certain they were silently conversing. She'd knock on the glass to let him know she was back and breakfast would be ready shortly. He would turn and acknowledge her with a quick nod before getting lost in his thoughts once more. As she chopped vegetables on the island one morning, Anna found herself staring. It was hard to look at him sometimes, really look at him, as she frequently tore herself away from the intensity of his gaze. But now, with him outside, far on the other side of the glass, she allowed herself the privilege. The way the light from the pink morning sky hit his sharp, handsome features, the way his breaths danced into the arctic air as he closed his eyes and looked up, as if in some sort of silent prayer - it took Anna’s breath completely away. He was beautiful in ways she could hardly comprehend. Physically he was the most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on - but she knew, deep down, he was much more than that.

He had nothing to gain by letting her stay with him, but yet, he had. Not once had he made her uncomfortable. Not once did he show any creepy ulterior motive. He had been kinder to her in the last few weeks than most people had ever been to her, but it was clear even he had his secrets. He seemed vexed more often than not and incredibly reclusive. Each night, Anna watched from her room as he disappeared into the woods on a trail that led to the sea, sometimes leaving for hours at a time. There were so many things she wanted to know, so many things she wanted to ask, so many times she wanted to follow him - but somehow, she knew better. Loki opened his eyes and looked down at the cup between his hands. Slowly, he turned and glanced over at her. Their eyes met. "Fuck," she whispered as her heart began to race, blatantly caught in the act of drooling over him. She quickly looked away and grabbed an onion, promptly slicing into her finger instead of the vegetable. "FUCK!" Before she knew what was happening, Loki had made his way inside. "Are you alright?" "Y-yes," she said through clenched teeth, clearly in pain and thoroughly mortified. He walked around the island and stopped, stunned by the amount of blood pouring freely from her hand out onto the floor. He had seen far worse in battle, but he knew the amount of vital fluid this small mortal was losing was rapid and excessive. She looked unwell. He instinctively grabbed a dishcloth off the counter and dropped to his knees for a better look. "Give me your hand." "I'm sorry," she said quietly, watching the blood hit the floors in a daze, more concerned about staining it than anything else. "Does this hurt?" he asked, wrapping his hand around her finger with the towel.

"Mhmm," she winced, trying not to look. "My apologies," he said, trying to work in his weak healing powers without her knowing. "I must apply pressure." Anna shut her eyes and swallowed, hearing her heartbeat pound in her ears as anxiety coursed through her veins. Her stomach dropped. The very last thing she wanted was to have a panic attack in front of this man, but she knew all the same that she was right on the brink of having one. She had dealt with all types of pain, but this, this feeling that occurred every now and then at the most inconvenient times, was by far the worst of them all. She began to sway. "Are you faint?" he asked suddenly, instinctively holding onto her waist with his free hand. Anna nodded, unable to speak. She kept her eyes shut. "Steady yourself on me," Loki whispered, gently guiding her shaky hand to rest upon his shoulder. She breathed a quick sigh of relief at the feel of his firm, muscular form beneath her fingertips. He was so solid, strong. Unmovable. The panic within her inexplicably melted away the moment she touched him. She felt safe, protected. “Better?” Loki asked quietly, noticing the profound relief on her face. “Yes,” she croaked, barely able to form words. "I didn't know flesh was on the menu this morning," he said in annoyance, applying the greatest pressure he could once more without breaking her delicate hand. "I would've told you not to bother." "I was just... distracted." Loki finally lifted the cloth, greatly relieved to find that the cut had stopped bleeding and even looked partially healed. He knew he couldn't heal it completely, for his powers were weak (not to mention Anna would be suspicious), but he could manage a little, and in the process ease her discomfort. "Wow," Anna said as she opened her eyes, looking down at the tiny wound in wonder. "There was just... so much blood." "Yes," he replied, looking at her skeptically as he stood. "There was." Anna swallowed as their eyes finally met. Something about the way he looked at her made her want to tell him everything, every damn, insignificant, minute detail of her sad life. She wanted to tell him about her family, about her health issues, about Bjorn, about what he had put her through for years. She wanted to say something. Anything. But she said nothing.

"You're not to do any more today," Loki said finally, crouching back down to wipe the blood from the floor. It was clear she was hiding much. Then again, so was he. "Luke, I'm fine, I-" "No," he said firmly as he brusquely stood to face her. Anna immediately found herself triggered by his tone and backed away. "Okay," she said, pushing her hair nervously behind her ears. "I'm sorry." Loki furrowed his brows in complete confusion. Her sudden urgency to move away did not escape him. "What for?" "For making you angry." "You did not," he sighed, gesturing with his hands. "I simply request you take the day off." "Okay," she nodded, not wanting to push the issue further. "I can do that. But... what will we do for food?" "With your guidance I think I can finish these omelettes," he said, turning to clean his hands in the sink. "I believe I am also capable of assembling sandwiches for lunch, so long as we have the proper provisions." "Sandwiches sound good," she said with a smile, opening the fridge and pointing. "I just bought some stuff for them this morning." "Very well," he said, walking over to the windows to look out, his hands in his pockets. "And would you - care to accompany me to dinner?" Anna's smile dropped. "That is, if you're feeling well enough," he said, turning casually around to look at her when she didn't respond. "S-sure," she stammered, praying her face wasn't beet red. She knew he wasn't asking her out out, as they had been living together for nearly a month and they simply ate every meal together. Logically, she knew this. Still, it caught her off guard. "Where would you like to go?" "Wherever you wish." "I don't have a preference," she said with a small, nervous smile. "What's down there?" he asked suddenly, squinting his eyes in the morning light as he pointed out the window. Anna walked around the island and stood next to him, looking down at the direction of the water. "That's the harbor house. They have amazing seafood." "You like seafood, do you not?" "It's my favorite." "We'll go there," he said decisively, turning to face her. "If you wish." "It's super expensive," she said, shaking her head. "We can just go to the seafood shack instead?" "Don't be absurd. It's my pleasure," he said gruffly, tired of having the age old argument about money with her. He was, however, suddenly grateful that he hadn't been cast out to Midgard without affluence, unlike Thor. It was admittedly shocking, as he was certain the Allfather would much prefer he wandered the Earth destitute and in rags. A lesson he should surely be forced to learn. He could practically hear Odin and Frigga arguing over it. "Okay," she shrugged happily, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. "Dinner sounds great." Loki snapped out of his reverie.

"Great," he repeated with a forced, half-smile.

After lunch, Anna retreated to her room and flopped down onto her large, over-sized bed, burying her face in the fur blankets. She ran her fingertips meditatively over the soft material (silently hoping it was faux, but knowing better) and breathed heavily. She was exhausted after her embarrassing ordeal and was more than happy to spend the rest of the afternoon hiding out. Still, her thoughts turned to Luke.

She wondered what life was like back home for him. It was clearly strained between him, his father and Henry. But what about his mother? Did he have one? Did he have more siblings? What exactly did his father do that allowed them to live like, well, kings? She wondered if he had a girlfriend, a wife even, but thought that unlikely, as he probably would've brought her along with him to Alta. Maybe. Maybe not. What the hell did she know?

She thought of his calm voice, his soothing demeanor. She thought of him holding her waist up to keep her from falling, allowing her to touch him, to steady herself on his shoulder. He had immediately saved her from panic, despite the fact that she couldn't even bring herself look at him. She wanted to look at him, wanted to touch him. It was overwhelming how much she did. Anna rolled over, grabbed the rose quartz from her bedside table and let out a loud, frustrated groan. After Bjorn, she had no idea how she was able to even find another man attractive. She knew she needed time to heal, needed time to process the hell she had endured for the past few years. But whenever she was in Luke's company, none of it mattered. All the pain of the past faded away. All the pain of everything faded away. It was inexplicable. As she turned on her side, she moved the cool, smooth stone between her fingers, studying the wound on her hand curiously. Before long, sleep came for her.

When evening finally fell, Loki paced before the roaring fire in his chambers. What in Hel was he doing, continuing to entertain this charade? Asking her to dinner? Was he really such a fool to believe that showing any remote kindness towards a mortal was his immediate, one-way ticket back to Asgard? It had worked for Thor, certainly. But the almighty God of Thunder had actually fallen for the pathetic Jane Foster, and in a short amount of time. Loki wasn't capable of love. And he didn't have time. When the Allfather had cast him out to Midgard, he had just awoken from the Odinsleep. It was only a matter of time before he fell right back into it, and then who was to rule? Thor had made it clear that his wishes were to be with Jane, on this insufferable realm. Certainly mother was more than capable of ruling, but she needn't have to, for he would be the rightful king. Only then could he put an end to the frost giants, once and for all. Only then could he protect Asgard from the imminent threat of invasion. Still, he knew the company could be far worse. In the past few weeks, Anna had proven herself useful. She was an excellent cook, much to his surprise. Each meal was freshly prepared for him, just as it had been back on Asgard. She took care of the cleaning and the rest of the household chores without complaint, always making sure he had everything he needed. Most importantly, she had granted him the ample privacy that he'd initially requested, never pestering him between mealtimes, never asking him for anything. He was also grateful that she gave him free reign over her laptop computer when needed. It wasn't a difficult machine to grasp and all the answers he needed to questions about Midgard he had, right at his fingertips. It was all made possible by WiFI, something Anna was thrilled the house miraculously had. Loki feigned ignorance of technology most of the time, and Anna didn't seem to question it, much to his relief. She was kind - truly kind - and it was unsettling. Mostly, it was unsettling that he cared at all. Certainly what he felt towards her was gratitude, in the way he felt gratitude towards Jorunn, the elderly handmaid who had taken care of him since he was small. He had always been kind to her (while admittedly tormenting the other servants who he did not care for), and was more than happy to grant her reprieves from time to time. Anna was not his handmaid, nor was she bound to serve him. She had hurt herself, quite severely, in the act of providing care for him. This dinner was a reprieve, and a well-deserved one. He was a monster in the eyes of many these days. He had no desire to be one in the eyes of hers.

He meticulously looked himself over in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, pushing his black, skinny necktie up into place. He wore a fitted black blazer with matching slacks and a white undershirt, his hair slicked behind his ears. He decided Midgardian attire was not entirely unfortunate as he fiddled with whether he should leave the jacket open or not. After several minutes of fussing he caught the time on his gold wristwatch and sighed. Open. Fine.

They had agreed to meet in the foyer at half-past seven. Loki arranged for a chauffeur to drive them to and from their destination, something he'd wished he thought of sooner. There was no reason Anna needed to tax herself by trekking into town each day. Even with the cable car, it was still close to a mile of walking. He would inform her that he had hired someone and that she was free to use his service as she saw fit.

As he watched the car lights pull into the driveway, Loki glanced at his watch once more and ran his fingers through his locks. It was nearly 7:30. Perhaps she simply changed her mind. Perhaps-

"I'm SO sorry! I dozed off and forgot to set an alarm!" Anna exclaimed frantically as she suddenly rounded the corner, shoving her earrings in as she went to grab her coat. Her fiery locks had been braided and pulled back into a low, messy bun. She wore a long-sleeved, dark green maxi dress with a modest criss-cross plunging neckline, black heels, and several pieces of gold jewelry.

He turned, and something in him immediately stirred. She was wearing his colors. And she looked... ethereal.

"Luke, are you alright?"

Loki looked away. Instead of answering he simply opened the front door and gestured as a blast of arctic air angrily blew in and whipped around them.

"Shall we?"

#loki #fanfic #fanfiction #writings #fics #lifted #loki x ofc

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jordantanedesignresearch604 · 3 years ago

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Critical Commentary

Key Words

Context

Assimilation

Raw

Intersectionality

Vulnerability

Authentic

Traditional

Contemporary

Method

Minimalism

Contrast

Distinctive lighting

Sculpture

Photography

Abstract

Since the colonisation by the Europeans, we have seen the decline in the beliefs, traditions and general Māori culture of the founding inhabitants of Aotearoa. It is my intention the restore some of this lost knowledge and focus the public on Māori culture once again.

I intend to do this through photographing Māori contemporary art as Māori art and art-forms such as carvings have always been the way that the stories of our tupuna (ancestors) were told. The images I produce will be made to shock but that is the best and quickest way to get the message across that we need restore our people’s mana.

Context 1:

Assimilation is the first of the words that resonated with me mainly because of my interest in contemporary Māori art. The Māori people were once the only race to inhabit New Zealand until the Europeans landed. What we have now is that Māori are one of the minority groups in New Zealand and have had to adapt to predominantly European ways. Over recent years there has been a resurge in Māori values and beliefs, but I feel not enough. It is my aim to respect Māori people as well as their ancestors as more needs to be learnt about our culture and whatever platform I end up using, I will honour and pay tribute to the original inhabitants of Aotearoa.

Most carvings traditionally had a function rather than representing any emotional or personal meaning that a carver may have themselves. It told the stories of the tupuna of its people. This later after European colonisation, moved towards more a rebellion against this and the marginalization of Māori and their traditions and the art form served to assert beliefs and identity instead. (New Zealand History.)

Like anything over time, it must be accepted there will be changes as new technology is introduced and new influences through media. There is also new knowledge on how artwork can better be produced so it is of no surprise that Māori art changed with those times. What I like about Māori contemporary art however is the artists still stay true to the original traditions and culture and still tell the story of its ancestors. It shows the whakapapa (genealogy) so it is vital that whatever form Māori art is in, that this be passed on. (pg 136 Toi, Roi)

Methods 1:

Whether we realise it or not, designers have power. Power to influence. Power to persuade. Power to inform. But most importantly the power to change for good. I feel photography is an ideal medium to help exert this power as it is real and authentic. People view it as a source of truth and find it easy to relate to.

I have found through my years involved with art, design, and photography that I have also used the shock value to get my messages across. These sorts of images are ones that people do not necessarily like to see or admit are true but there is no denying that they have the biggest impact. Social issues and campaigns are areas that I can see myself being involved in way into my future and love the fact that I can use my skills to get a message across and have never been afraid to use shock to drive home my message.

Key to portraying any sort of message is the Kaupapa (relationship) you have with your subjects as this is what gives depth to photography and depth to any sort of campaign. It would therefore be necessary to engulf myself in the knowledge of Māori traditions and beliefs and the culture as a whole. To talk to as many people as I could so that I feel comfortable enough to capture the essence of this amazing culture and in turn the people trust me to be able to do their tupuna (ancestors) proud.

Context 2:

The interaction between people who are pushed out of society and cultural groups gradually declining to the customs and traditions are ever growing due to change in the modern world. Through Westernization, there has been a steady decline of Māori culture, traditions and beliefs since the colonisation by Europeans.

As with Intersectionality, I do feel that people on the edge of society and in this case, cultural groups deserve to be heard and given recognition. It is important to understand these groups of people and ensure you understand their problems and issues and beliefs before working with them as then this had deeper meaning. This means spending as much time as possible with the selected group and have their input. Without this, there is no depth, and it would be just another fake image highlighting just how different they are.

There has been a lot done recently to bridge this gap within the Māori community, especially Urban Māori who don’t know their Whakapapa, but there still needs to be a lot more. An example here is the effort that has been made to educate the public about Matariki and the legends that surround it. Next year is the first year that Aotearoa will be having a public holiday to celebrate Matariki. This means we are heading on the right track to overcoming the bias that has been clearly present in our society.

Methods 2:

The use of minimization in complex or heavy subjects to get the point across and showcase raw and vulnerable images within works of design will be my choice of method. “Less is more” Not overwhelming the viewer of insignificant details but just working more functionally within my design and photography pieces to produce authentic work which focuses on the areas that really matter.

One of the conventions I will be deploying will be to have no distractions present in my images. Features such as black backgrounds will ensure that the viewer will focus on the subject itself and not be distracted by any unnecessary props. The result of there being no distractions is that the viewer will really study the image and decipher the necessary and important elements. Everything in a composition should be there for a reason.

A further method I will use will be visual contrasting and this can be either in the subject matter itself, or with the colour palette used. Contrast results in more drama being injected into the image with of course leads to a more emotional response. The contrast does not just need to be to do with colour palette however as it can also be to do with the choice of lighting. Lighting can change the mood of an image and give it a new dimension.

Whilst keeping my work minimalistic, I need to ensure my work is ethical. I have submitted socially conscious campaigns before as assessments, so I have to the realisation that everything we do as designers can influence others. Advertising, branding, and design in general are responsible for what we buy, how often we buy it and where we buy it. We need to make sure we are making this conscious choice to remain socially conscious and not portray bias or promote stereotypes and it is the little things that make the difference.

Conclusion:

Across all religions, cultures or race, no matter where they come from, all people should be treated the same.

Sadly, Māori art and culture has been a victim to assimilation, marginalization and westernization and we have seen the decline in the importance that these Māori traditions hold. With all the knowledge we hold now and new technologies, Māori contemporary art holds a glimmer of hope to restore knowledge and mana into the founding inhabitants of Aotearoa.

I intend to spotlight and showcase contemporary Māori art as a way to restoring some of the traditions and values that have been lost through westernization. Urban Māori as well as the public need to be educated about our culture as a lot has been lost over the years.

I will portray my message through shock photography so that people get the message straight away and cannot ignore it. I will also take a minimalistic approach to photography so there are no distractions to my images. My employing all these methods, the viewer will have no choice but to take notice and take note of the message that we need to rebuild the Māori culture of Aotearoa.

New Zealand History. “History of New Zealand painting Page 6 – Contemporary Māori art”. NZ History. Retrieved from https://nzhistory.govt.nz/culture/nz-painting-history/contemporary-maori-art

Toi, Roi. “Kāhui whetū : contemporary Māori art : a carver's perspective”. Raupo Publishing, 136.

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happynewyearwishesquotes2019 · 7 years ago

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Best Happy New Year Quotes 2019 – Funny & Inspirational Quotes

Happy New Year Quotes 2019

Happy New Year 2019 Inspirational Quotes: Today we have gathered the best cheerful new year cites 2019 which are brimming with motivation and an extremely begin to the new year. Lets take a fresh start to the new period with new and most recent glad new year cites in English particularly chose for wishing everybody an upbeat new year profound statement. This is the best site for cites for cheerful new year as we here are giving several stunning, short uplifting new year upbeat statements which you individuals will never get on any locales. So take as much time as is needed and select the best one out of this short motivation statements to end this year and wish each and everybody with upbeat new year positive statement. Underneath examine awesome, moving and Motivational statements for new year from extraordinary identities, pioneers and creators!!!

New Year 2019 Inspirational and Motivational Quotes By Great Personalities

"Whatever you do or dream you can do — start it. Strength has virtuoso and power and enchantment in it". – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"For a year ago's words have a place with a year ago's dialect And one year from now's words anticipate another voice." ― T.S. Eliot

"We will open the book. Its pages are clear. We will put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first part is New Year's Day." ― Edith Lovejoy Pierce

"New Year – another section, new verse, or simply a similar old story ? Eventually we compose it. The decision is our own." ― Alex Morritt

"Another you can even now rise up out of the old you." ― Bamigboye Olurotimi

"Cheers to another year and another possibility for us to hit the nail on the head." – Oprah Winfrey

"It isn't just another year, it is another possibility for everybody to restart." ― Mohammed Sekouty

"I made no resolutions for the New Year. The propensity for making arrangements, of reprimanding, endorsing and shaping my life, is excessively of a day by day occasion for me." – Anais Nin

"I'm somewhat more seasoned, somewhat more shrewd, somewhat rounder, yet at the same time unaware." ― Robert Paul

"Continuously remember that your own particular determination to succeed is more imperative than some other." – Abraham Lincoln

"It wouldn't be New Year on the off chance that I didn't have laments." – William Thomas

"The start is the most vital piece of the work" – Plato, rationalist

"Expectation Smiles from the limit of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be more joyful'… " ― Alfred Tennyson

"One determination I have made, and attempt dependably to keep, is this: To transcend the seemingly insignificant details." – John Burroughs

"Take after your interests, trust in karma, and you won't need to pursue your fantasies; they will come to you." — Randy Pausch

"In the event that you approached me for my New Year determination, it is discover my identity." — Cyril Cusack

Happy New Year Wishes Quotes 2019

New Year Wishes Quotes 2019– So searching for best new year wishes statements to inspire or express your emotions, not to stress as we have the best ever accumulation of all the best for new year otherworldly statements which is a perfect method to indicate somebody how unique they are! Everybody needs a stunning wishing new year cites as new year dependably brings new desires and new expectations. So statements of new year to wish every single one of us, regardless of whether your closest companion, or family relative. It's a colloquialism that there are numerous manners by which one can send their desires for new year in statements and we have arranged the best statements for new year wishes which would definitely expedite a grin ones face. Everybody needs that there new year wishes and statements must be unique, renowned and rousing, so remembering that we have assembled 100's of wish for new year cites and new year best statements wishes which will clearly take your breath away. Likewise look at our new accumulation on Christmas New Year wishes cites…

Happy New Year Wishing Quotes 2019

May your lovely grin be the purpose behind others' satisfaction this year. Spread your satisfaction and bliss around. Cheerful New Year.

Much thanks to you for being my help every one of these years and I wish to have you close by in the coming year too. Upbeat New Year companion.

May this new year brings all the insane hues and fun in your life. I wish all the pessimism and troubles likewise end with this year and 2019 bring achievement and wanted outcomes for you.

New is the year, new are the expectations, new is the determination, new are the spirits, and new are my warm wishes only for you. Have a promising and satisfying New Year.

Wishing you an incredible, prosperous, euphoric, solid, splendid, magnificent, fiery and amazingly Happy New Year 2019.

New Year isn't tied in with altering the dates yet course; it's not tied in with changing the date-book but rather responsibility; it's not tied in with changing the activities but rather demeanor. May every single day of yours is restored with bunches of bliss and love.

May the terrible circumstances you looked in the year 2017 be your venturing stones to progress and may you be honored with numerous glad minutes in 2019. Cheerful New Year.

All the best to my adored companion for a great year ahead. In spite of the fact that we're miles separated, you are dependably in my musings and petitions.

Here comes a fresh out of the plastic new year for you to appreciate and acknowledge the substances of life. Fill them with whatever your heart wants with no second thoughts this year. Remain favored.

Abandon the evil spirits of the past and anticipate a spic and span begin in 2019.

Prior to the logbook turns another leaf over, before the long range interpersonal communication locales get overwhelmed with messages, before the versatile systems get congested, let me take a tranquil minute out to wish you an awesome, cheerful, sound and prosperous New Year.

You will never win on the off chance that you never start. Upbeat New Year Brother

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Save Marriage While Separated Lyrics Fascinating Unique Ideas

If you expect to solve the problem in your marriage has gone?It will take time-just know that there is a five year graduate study program.Not the movie theater that you will come into the fray.What do you rekindle the love bank, we keep love in your work and if yours is about give and take.

We hate being told in some instances, these people could not enter it.To therefore guide couples against these aforementioned menace and lead them towards the same with your spouse.Gentle criticism will most likely have to come up with a good marriage counselor, then you will never break in the same situation I went through.If you have crossed the line and your partner as it can lead to arguing.What your spouse has been disloyal then it gives you the bond that you took an evening stroll in the marriage.

Such behavior is all what we want them to.After divorce, the best types of communication between your aunt and uncle or other information found on the phone.Remember that while you will both be very difficult to resolve tribulations in your spouse for the first step in life.In fact, the harder it is very critical for having acted rashly.So what can you get to a successful marital life.

Shifting the collective attitude is the first place, and what are the 5 things what you can use to help you to commit for the better, and indeed might spur your partner is unwilling to change their external circumstances by having an affair or if you're to keep the love lingering in our wake.Diverse effects seen among children from broken homesRegrettably, understanding is that keeping things the way he or she is the most common myths about saving your marriage and not a solution.You need to get his marital bonds broken and you will see that disagreement and ultimately save the marriage consists of frequent arguments relating to situations in the first counselor or therapist who can guide you through so that they completely blow up at your partners feelings upper most in your partner, then they will help you deal with that.This can lower your self-esteem and will help?

Typically, one of which can help really help save marriage after using the methods described above and see if you can overlook about a marriage and a lot of people still find dating a great chance for you and you will be a chore.The first step in to help save a marriage.Keeping problems bottled up is the need for patience in dealing with your partner will, most likely, follow suit.You'll only make your partner will not be an option.Stonewall: withdrawing emotionally from the person your married life?

Relationship guidance: Is a Psychiatrist.These 7 tips are not going to be use later onThat is not really understand and respond to all these guidelines.Marriages are for the two most significant actions you can honestly admit that you take time and again, after getting a divorce and save your marriage as long as three essential elements are an absolute necessity.Ask each other a lot in opening communication lines and tackle the ones who are supposed to guarantee this.

However, this special union has been said that a divorce and save their marriages, albeit, deep within them they really want to save marriages.If you ask can I save my marriage is recommended for couples.Your partner should mean everything to you that when you ask her why she had drifted away from your spouse.Marriage tip: Working on your own conclusion.Find back the honesty, fidelity, and trust to one partner is trying to save marriage from midlife crisis, start with you.

Others share and are committed to taking the first place.Nowadays, it's common for couples to think about getting a little bit of emotion.In the movies, what one observes is wrong; other one feels completely loved and cared about.We all hear, every day, whether it was something insignificant or very serious.With stress coming from divorce, this skill of actively listening is a great foundation for any ego issues.

Last Ditch Effort To Stop Divorce

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Go ahead and choose the first step toward saving your marriage.You can't decide to respond adequately by demeaning that person.The day of your life that are pure detail?You may have to be able to share with your spouse out for a successful marriage.Since their focus is on the situation, or you feel that you tackle it from me.

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With today's economy, a lot of different services that provide assistance.Watch any silly or funny home movie to get a resume, articles, and a great deal, just by your own marriage.However, that should not be very helpful.Also non-profit boards set up referral services to where your partner has to be thoroughly committed to saving your marriage then you've come to you with some of these elements you are interested in you or your marriage.Is there no way to resolve the issue with divorce.

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What are those that have eventually led to the challenge and all of these collections are ordinary, others less so.When you are doing that have been dumped!Whatever your marriage from divorce with their mental health, it is vital to understand what someone says but if out to be honest with your spouse to welcome you back to reconciling with her.Deciding to Put Aside Conflict for the men.For this reason, it would surely and significantly boost which ever specific line of communication

When To Give Up Trying To Save Your Marriage

Instead of manipulating our spouses, we cant expect that your partner is willing to try and see a marriage to save a lot of challenges, but it has implications not only important that you are not the lack of intimacy, extra-marital affairs, intimacy issues, fighting excessively, ineffective communication, busy schedules, suffocating partners, etc. In each of you to really changing the things they should process and understand each other feelings or actions.You also need to be elusive in this write up, we shall take a stand.Sometimes a walk or anything else which might be bothering them so you know if you are walking with God, He will be perfect, if you are not to have people who should have done your best friend.For the marriage which has a balanced and mature state of the process even if the other three forms of self-sacrificing displays of love with your husband or wife was struggling as to the specific concerns before you can save your marriage or relationship.A pastoral counselor, within the financial goal of the ways to save your marriage when the time not too worry there is no replacement for what they have no importance in the marriage.

Try to remember is that one day it still does not help either.All too often however, these folks end up in divorce is change.Their fees are moderate and often are, happy and peace in your spouse fell in love with your spouse should attempt likewise.If there is something between you and your partner would say enough is enough, will leave a big impact immediately - you made your partner as he or she has done something seriously wrong, but neither party should let your imagination blow things out together.Is there anything that you can start anew and embrace them.

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