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rome-theeempire · 2 years ago

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I'm so upset. I watched My Policeman and it was such an amazing experience for me but I couldn't tell one of my closest friends cuz she was sexualizing it the whole time.

Before I watched it she explained the s*x scenes like it was hard p*rn and I was immediately uncomfortable anticipating skipping scenes. But I watched them and they were beautiful it was still erotic in nature like they're literally having s*x but it was so... lovely it was like watching a painting. It wasnt just a violent lust frenzy it was passion and idk what y'all's definition of passion is, it differs but to me passion is the desire to make the one you love feel good, make them happy and from tending to them, you gain pleasure IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE SEXUAL but basically you don't even have to receive in order to be satisfied.

(that doesn't mean you don't deserve to receive love from your partner. A healthy relationship require consent/boundaries and mutual love)

then a wave of gender dysphoria hit me. They way they held each other, their hands, shoulders, chests. I wanted to just rearrange my genes. I literally started crying in forensic science after hearing my teacher say that chromosomes from your father determine how your genes make you look "gender wise" all I needed was one stupid fcking Y. I felt also felt a fear cuz ik most ppl only watched it for Harry that is 100% fine cuz same but please don't make it all about him, this is a gorgeous gay love story that shows the brightness of love and the pain that was brought by society's simple-mindedness which still exist today. The ending didn't necessarily make me cry cuz they were finally happy like they used to be.

I experienced a joy in seeing queer love told and directed do beautifully and a deep despair from the pain they had to go through in between lovely scenes along with a wave of gender dysphoria crashing into my face.

🚨 SPOILERS HERE🚨

Also I hate Tom's wife I'm sry I understand that he still cheated on her but she did NOT have to send Patrick to jail they could've killed him!!! She could've confronted them in their own space but she genuinely believed that Tom who was her friend was evil and not cuz he was with her husband but because he was a HE. She demonized Patrick for sleeping with Tom but never demonized Tom for sleeping with Patrick cuz she believed Tom was being seduced by Patrick instead of coming to the conclusion that Patrick and Tom were both GAY and they weren't sick or evil. She literally has a friend who reveals that she's a lesbian and how they were the best of friends a second ago and now she's looking at her like she's different even though she looks and sounds the same.

Even in the future she's reading Patrick's diary seeing how Tom had loved Patrick waaaay before THEN she's shopping with old Tom and she saw an explicit gay couple in a shop like they were smooching each other's necks and she still called them FRIENDS making Tom cry. And this whole time she's just been in denial trying to convince herself that Tom isn't gay and Patrick is a seductive snake (even tho he is beautiful omg this cast🤭)

She already hurt Patrick and Tom and still does it even now. When she's getting RDY to take Patrick in and care for him she moves a picture of Tom and her on their wedding into his designated room like she's claiming him and gets upset that Tom doesn't want to stay in the house when Patrick is there. And finally wants to tell him that she reported him to the police even subtly accusing him of HURTING CHILDREN.

Now I thought Tom was angry with Patrick but no he was avoiding him cuz just the knowledge of his presence causes feelings to rise and he was pretending to be straight for a mighty long time but clearly it's not working cuz She then admits she's been trying to keep Tom, thinking if she got rid of Patrick, Tom would "snap out of it" cuz Patrick is a gay witch apparently.

And she has just been upsetting herself cuz there was no passion in their relationship, not even simple lust, BUT there never has been! it's been like 60 YEARS, and there's no evidence of children or grandchildren in that house sooooooo....yea.

It was just a continuous circle of unnecessary pain mixed with some mlm sweetness and a lesbian shout-out.

#lgbtq #queer pride #black queerness #genderqueer #nonbinary #transgender #black lgbtq #trans pride #transmasc #trans boy #harry styles #my policeman #mlm post #mlm pride #mlm positivity #trans mlm #mlm blog #trans blog #black trans

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talonwings · 3 years ago

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Who We Are - Empires SMP writing

a gift for you, empiresblr, courtesy of my now 5 hours of fWhip headcanons. feel free to kill me when you're done. (also sorry i don't yet have an AO3 i can link to, i've been on the wait list foreeevvveerrr).

CW for slight body horror, angst, and i guess suffocation kind of?

“fWhip? Hello? Are you in here?”

He heard the call--how could he not have, when the voice was hers? Still, he did not move, remaining where he slumped against the wall of the underground room. One of the redstone crystals blooming from the stone was jammed against his shoulder blade, but even the pain could not entice him to rise.

“fWhip, come out!” Gem’s voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, a tone he rarely heard from her--well, the frustration he had heard before, but the worry was new. Gem almost never fretted about anything; it was how she had kept him and Sausage so well in line up until now.

“I’m going to come down there!” The threat echoed down the passageway that separated the secret room from the unassuming shopfront above it. “I know where your lair is, it isn’t a secret! Don’t make me come down there!”

“Don’t,” fWhip rasped. “Please.”

Gem either couldn’t or didn’t hear him. “I’m giving you one minute, and then I’m coming down there whether you like it or not!”

“Please,” he tried again, but his voice would not obey him. It petered out almost as soon as it passed his lips. He licked them, swallowed, coughed, tried a third time. “Gem, please, go away.”

This time, it seemed, she did hear, for she answered, “I will not go away! Nobody’s seen you in two weeks, fWhip! We’re worried sick!”

“I’m fine,” he croaked--a lie.

“You don’t sound fine,” she retorted. “I’m coming down.”

He opened his mouth to warn her off again, but the tell-tale sound of the painting door sliding back masked whatever he might have tried to say. Seconds later, her footsteps started up, the familiar click of those heeled purple boots getting ever louder as she marched along the passageway toward his laboratory.

fWhip’s gaze darted around in a panic, searching out anyplace that would be suitable to hide. He hadn’t moved from his current spot in over twelve hours, and his limbs protested as he shoved himself violently to his feet, teetering off-balance from the unfamiliar motion. Finally, he settled on a small cranny near the back of the chamber, and limped over to it, cramming himself inside just as Gem’s footfalls indicated that she had reached the door to the lab itself. He heard her swing it open, and then her voice, much clearer now, softly called, “fWhip? Where are you?”

“Go away,” he replied, hating the stony rasp that he couldn’t seem to get rid of now. “Don’t want to see you.”

“Well, that’s just rude,” she replied. He could imagine the look on her face, and fought against the lump it brought to his throat. He wanted to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, to throw himself into her arms.

“Didn’t ask you to come,” he croaked instead.

“No, actually, Jimmy did,” Gem replied waspishly. “Your enemy. You remember him? The one you stole his most precious possession from? He sent me a message three days ago to tell me he hadn’t seen or heard from you in over a week. Mind you, this was after I’d been questioned by Sausage, Pearl, and Shrub as to why you’ve missed the last two alliance meetings. fWhip, even your enemies are worried about you. Where have you been?”

Oh, if only you knew. His mouth twisted with a hateful, bitter little smile. “Busy.”

Gem audibly scoffed. “Right.”

“Leave, Gem.” The order tasted strange in his mouth, when he desperately wanted her to stay.

“Not until I see you.” He heard her start moving around the room, picking things up and nudging them with her feet, rearranging boxes and sliding barrels aside as she searched.

“Leave.” The cranny was small, but he squashed himself further inside anyway, stone scraping against all the places where his skin was exposed.

“Are you back there?” His stomach squeezed with terror as he heard her move toward him, squeezing between two of the suspension tubes where he had once stored specimens he was researching. “I can’t see you.”

“Please, leave, please.” If he couldn’t order her, he could at least beg her. “Gem, please, if you care about me at all, go away.”

“fWhip, I do care about you,” she said gently. “That’s why I’m here in the first place. Please come out. I just want to know you’re safe.”

He could feel his heart ripping itself in half--desperation to hide warring violently with the desire to finally be seen, even if it would cost him everything. It felt like it might burn a hole in his chest, and his hands tightened reflexively into fists as he battled himself for what seemed an eternity.

“Please, little brother,” Gem whispered.

It was as if she had caved his chest in. A sob dragged itself from his throat before he could stop it, but he finally let himself unfurl from the cranny to drape limply across the floor, gazing up at his sister’s blue-violet eyes as they widened in shock, which turned to horror, which turned to sorrow.

“Oh, fWhip…” Gem reached out a hand toward him, but hesitated, drawing her fingers back before she could reach him. “What happened?”

“You really want to know?” He had to shove back another sob with a monumental effort, watching the way her fingers trembled as she gazed at him. “Or do you want to leave, like I told you to before?”

“No, I would never,” she gasped. “Not now. Not like this.” She sat down on the floor, her violet cloak flowing behind her like a pool of silky water, and slid closer to him, although not quite close enough for their hands to touch. “Tell me what happened.”

He let his eyes drift away from hers, toward the ceiling and the red crystals dripping from its shadowy recesses. “Well, it began two weeks ago.”

Two weeks earlier…

fWhip was not a stranger to surprises, but he liked receiving them far less than he liked planning them.

It had been a long elytra flight from the undisclosed location of the Wither Rose headquarters back to his home in the Grimlands, and the multiple hours in the air were wearing on his body--even though he had been wearing his scarlet goggles for the duration, his eyeballs still ached as if the wind had been hammering them, as did his shoulder blades from the yank and drift of the elytra against his own muscles.

“Maybe next time I take a horse,” he muttered to himself as he angled in for the landing. The deepslate roofs of the Grimlands were beginning to glide by beneath him now, and he made for the circular patch of dirt at the back of the manor that was his customary landing site, his eyes trained on it until something else caught his attention.

“I am positive that was not there before…” One hand came up to tap his chin as his gaze caught on the massive outcrop of deepslate that had bloomed at the front corner of the manor gardens, studded with glinting redstone crystals. A darker shadow within the ring-shaped formation suggested there might possibly be a hole there, though how deep was indiscernible from this far above.

“If somebody has been trying to steal from me again--wait.” fWhip narrowed his eyes at the spot, investigating it more closely now, for it seemed more familiar the closer he drew. He could vaguely recall setting a circle of rocks within the closed hedges, and in their center, a red container, filled with--

“Damn! Xornoth again!” His breath huffed out harshly as he realized what had happened. First the explosion, and now this…

Veering off-course from his typical spot, he carefully glided down until he was low enough to snap the elytra closed and drop gracefully to the ground between the wide hedge rows. From down here, the deepslate ring seemed much larger than it had from the air, its jagged edges stabbing into the blue sky. He could tell now that there was, indeed, a hole at the center, exactly where he had placed the shulker-box filled with Xornoth’s corruption.

“Damn,” he whispered again. He edged closer, peering carefully at the hole as he neared in an attempt to see what might be at the bottom. It appeared to be deeper than he was tall, however, and he was forced to maneuver up to the very lip of the hole to get a good look at the bottom. Thankfully, there did seem to be a bottom, lurking maybe ten feet below the surface; the depths of the hole were quite dark, though, only dimly illuminated by patches of glimmering red crystals, and he was unable to determine much more than that.

fWhip wondered, briefly, if he ought to just ignore the hole. Common sense would seem to suggest that it was involved with Xornoth in some way, and therefore worthy of at least being avoided for the time being until he could request the help of his allies. fWhip, however, whether fortunately or not, had always been availed of a strong sense of curiosity--it was how he had developed so many of his gadgets and tools. Besides that, there was something about the depths of the small hole that seemed to call to him, and him specifically.

He glanced around, taking stock of who might be nearby in case he needed to call for help, and saw no one in the immediate vicinity. There was a groundskeeper’s cottage just on the other side of the hedge row, but he had no way of knowing whether anyone might be inside.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take a chance,” he murmured. “Here goes.”

Gingerly, he sat down at the edge of the hole, dangling his legs off the side and exploring for possible footholds. It took him a minute, but his toes finally caught on a ledge, and he was able to hoist himself down and into the vertical shaft. Thankfully, the same jagged-edged property of deepslate that made it look menacing also made it excellent for climbing, and he had relatively little difficulty lowering himself the full ten or eleven feet to the bottom, where his feet landed on solid stone. Looking up, he was surprised how dim the sky seemed to be after such a short descent.

Now what? he thought to himself as he gazed around at the narrow walls on all sides. Surely I didn’t make an ass of myself climbing down here for no reason.

He had but a few seconds to wonder, as a strange hiss caught his attention, echoing from the rock walls. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but the small hole began rapidly to fill with a reddish mist, which, when he inhaled it, made the inside of his nose and throat burn as if he had inhaled fire. He coughed, accidentally inhaled again, and coughed more violently, and still the stuff spewed into the cavern, and he began to wonder whether this was a trap, and whether he had been an idiot for climbing down here, and whether his allies--his friends, his sister--would find his corpse rotting down here. His hands scrabbled for handholds to lever himself back up, but the mist had filled his eyes now, and it stung, forcing him blindly to his knees. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. Lights danced behind his eyelids, and his throat was a tunnel of fire, and then he was unconscious, and knew no more.

Present day…

“And the next thing I knew, I woke up. And...this.” fWhip gestured down to himself, unable to keep his mouth from curling like he had tasted something sour. “Or, well, part of it.”

“Part of it?” Gem cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it was just the wings at first.” He tugged at the grey-black appendages, hating that he could feel it when his fingers brushed the leathery flesh. “And to be honest, I thought they were awesome. Who hasn’t dreamed of having wings? Sure, they looked a little gargoyle-ish, but it seemed like a small price to pay for not having to use elytra anymore. And it felt like the redstone magic was helping me, maybe giving me a gift to fight against Xornoth. I thought it might be something good.”

“And then…” Gem prompted when he trailed off.

“And then...the rest started,” he whispered. “I tried to ignore it at first. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, or getting sick, because it started with just my eyes, and I felt like maybe it would go away if I just, I don’t know, pretended not to notice. But then it was my skin, and then my hands, and then...and then my face.” He turned away from her as a visible shudder made its way through him. “I look disgusting.”

“Why didn’t you call us for help?” Gem murmured.

“Because it was my fault it happened!” he growled, shaking his head. “Because I was an idiot and went down that hole and breathed in that gas, and now I’m a monster, and I have no one to blame but myself. Because I couldn’t wait for you.”

“fWhip, no!” He could see the glimmer of moisture in her eyes, and he hated himself even more for it, for making her upset. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t know what would happen, and you’ve always been an investigator. And now you’ve had to suffer alone, and I had no idea, and…” Her voice caught. “I was so worried. I thought maybe the demon…and especially after those dreams...”

He swallowed. “I...I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t know how to face everyone like this.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, simply listening to their own breaths. Finally, Gem said, “It doesn’t look that bad, you know.”

fWhip eyed her dubiously. “Gem, I look like a gargoyle. Like some kind of…” The word demon couldn’t force itself out, but he could see she understood, for she vigorously shook her head.

“No, you don’t look anything like that,” she said. After a long pause, she quietly added, “You look like my little brother.”

He tried, but couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks. “Thanks,” he whispered.

She reached over and finally took his hand, and he almost shouted with joy at the touch of another person; her skin was warm and soft, her delicate tiny fingers gentle as they closed around his rough, clawed ones.

“We’ll figure this out,” she promised. “Together.”

He nodded, and squeezed her hand. “Together.”

#empires smp #mcyt #fwhip #geminitay #xornoth #c!fwhip #c!geminitay #cw body horror #cw suffocation #enjoy this #i suck #angst #writing

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shishinoya · 5 years ago

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He Wasn’t A Dreamer || a.k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ — SUMMARY || Akaashi was taught that dreams were wasteful. — PAIRING || Akaashi Keiji X Reader — TYPE || Story — WARNING || Angst — WORD COUNT || 1.7k words — AUTHOR’S NOTE || i don’t know... i got an idea and this thing was born ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Akaashi was a thinker; never doing anything brash nor unnecessary. Everything was calculated. From the way he woke up, placing his pillows against the headboard and tucking the sheets comfortably along his bed, to how he sets his notebooks on the right of his desk - never the left. He wrote out his day with plans, each having several steps. He followed them religiously, never straying away. His meals were cultivated to ensure he was taking the exact amount of nutrients. Rice, chicken, snow peas, all arranged in neat lines and in clean smooth bowls. It was precise, definite, perfect. He was perfect. He needed to be perfect. It had a purpose; there was reasoning to it. He was built from numbers and logic, dreaming never seemed like an option.

Akaashi was considerate. He never thought about himself and held his friends and family close in his mind. Always cleaning after himself, never leaving his mess for someone else to take care of. He stayed up late into the night, filling his ears with the sobs of a peer. He didn’t like it. He thought it was annoying. Classmates used him as a bank account, asking for money, promising that he would see it again, but he didn’t. He couldn’t buy a new textbook. He thought it was unfair. He gave; never expecting to receive. He listened; never expecting to be heard. He had a purpose. This was his purpose. He was their reasoning. He didn’t have a chance to dream.

Akaashi was quiet. His opinions and thoughts rattled his mind and poked knives at the back of his throat, threatening him to release them. But he knew better. He remembered the way faces twist and lips curled when his mouth opened. He still feels the sting of cherished hands across his pale cheek. They stuffed his mouth with mush and greens; stating that he should never speak with his mouth full. But it wasn’t. Their minds said “yes”. To them, his mouth was filled with trash and it was nothing worth hearing. It held a reason. There was a point to it. To discipline him. To tear thoughts of anything but logic. They used needles of control to sew thin lines of suppression and restrain through his dry lips. They stole his dreams.

Butterflies had their wings plucked and were turned into colourful prints. They were dull. The clouds that were once as white as virgin snow were now grey and spun into weaves of cotton candy. They were sour. The waves of the ocean that wrapped their warm salted arms around his skinny body were now chains, locking him from seeing the shore. They were cold.

Dull, sour, cold. You could call his life that. He wouldn’t hear you. It had a purpose; it had reasoning. Dreams were wasted thoughts.

He never thought of anything out the box of right; he couldn’t stretch his understanding of why. The bold red zeros on comprehension served as evidence. Asking more questions meant uncertainty. He was always certain.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You created earthquakes. You were bold, bright, levitating. Compared to his exhausted eyes, yours were anything but tired. They lit up every time you talked. They gleamed, especially when the rays of the sun tickled your skin. The way your lashes fluttered and framed them. He could see himself in them.

You constantly danced to invisible music that seemed to only play in your own ears. You drowned out the talk and words of others. Your descriptions used unfamiliar terms and a language Akaashi never heard before. You were asked why you always seemed like you were floating, and you responded with, “That’s because Tinkerbell gave me some pixie dust”.

Foolish. Akaashi thought. You were just another shameful dreamer that he shouldn’t get involved with. His mind, flooded with statements of how distasteful you were, instructed his throat to contract, ordered his mouth to open, demanded that he did not think and allowed himself to taste a bit of choice.

Wishful thinking. The desires of his mind wouldn’t control him. He could taste strong metal. Red tainted his teeth, painted his lips, layered his tongue. He could feel the pain; he just paid no mind to it. He almost lost his way. He almost slipped. He never slipped. Who were you? What have you done?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His questions piled. He was curious. He was jealous. He wanted to be able to be as free as you. He knew these were emotions. He knew they were wrong. He would feel the lashes later, but he couldn’t stop them. They were immense. They pulled his insides and rearranged them so his body would bend. They raked his stomach so much so that it became unbearable. He clawed his chest, a feeble attempt in trying to cleanse the pain. He wheezed. He gasped. He choked.

He understood now. He understood how dangerous emotions were.

You composed your dreams. You showed him them. You took those butterflies and created giant planes where people rode on the wings like they would with roller coasters. You churned the clouds, sculpting them into castles and towers that overshadowed the lush green mountains. The ocean shifted with your movements; the waves formed horses where they pranced and ran along the surface. You were given the option to dream.

You were an uncertainty. He didn’t like it. He couldn’t see what you were thinking; he couldn’t figure out your motives. The friendships he made were always made to benefit him. You were a different case. He wanted to understand, to wrap a finger around your ideas. Your thoughts. You. Maybe it was jealousy. Maybe he wanted to live your life. Maybe he wanted to feel the joy of being a dreamer.

You were a risk. He was scared of you. He was scared of what he will go through. But he wanted to get that taste; that sweet taste of choice. The taste that he stopped himself from relishing in. The one that made his tongue go numb.

So he did.

He took the risk that called herself Y/N.

He talked to you. He needed information. You held important knowledge that he wanted - no, needed to know. You were like the vowels in his story of life; without you, it would be meaningless and difficult to comprehend. You had a purpose to him: to educate him, to teach him of this unknown tongue of words. That was his reasoning, and he repeated it to himself every time his eyes landed on your giggling figure. He reasoned and convinced himself that there was nothing special to you. You were only someone who would benefit him, you didn’t have a name. You were just a person. He clung onto the fact that his emotions were not affecting his decision making. He desperately resented the thought of you being more than just a person, just a small risk. He tried, but it wasn’t working. You were too much.

Nights where he sat on the frigid floor, back leaning against the bed frame, were haunting. Numbers, words, charts, data all twirled and kicked there way into his mind, to the point where if he closed his eyes, there wouldn’t be a spot that didn’t have writing. Calculations. He needed to calculate.

emotions = pain. i don’t like pain. the markings hurt. no emotions → no pain. i can’t feel. i won’t feel. then why does it hurt now? i wont feel. my mind is foggy. i won’t feel. redirect it. redirect the pain.

...

why are you here. . . ?

The outline. He could recognize it anywhere.

The movements. He followed with care.

The smile. That forsaken smile.

He hated how it wouldn’t go away. He blinked once, twice. You remained. Your arms reached out for him. He vigorously shook his head, an attempt to wake his brain from the nightmare that held his consciousness in a vice. You pushed out the numbers, the words, the data, and started to paint with hues he’s never seen before. How? He didn’t like it, not one bit. You weren’t leaving his thoughts. He needed you out. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t see. All it revolved around was you. His mind was invaded with snapshots of events that never occurred. A hug. He could never. A touch. She would never.

A kiss.

Never.

You were painful. You caused him the pain. He pulled his hair, gripped the strands. Tugged so hard, he thought he could hear them tearing themselves from the roots of his scalp. He pried his nails through his skin, to divert his attention, to rid his mind of you.

What reasoning did he have that you were on his mind? He liked you. That you made his heart race as if it were running a marathon every time he sees you. He liked you. He couldn’t understand why he was searching for that laugh of yours. He liked you. He didn’t know why he cared for your opinion.

He can’t fathom the idea of him yielding to useless feelings. They felt more controlling than the hands of his parents. They used strings and made him dance to their pleasure like he was some kind of puppet. He felt weak. He was more than that, though. He was the Akaashi Keiji. The one that reached beyond and above, being that perfect child that every parent loves to boast about. The one whose stare and eyes were so intimidating that others would coward in his presence. He always felt superior. He was always at the top.

And yet, you made him take a bite of defeat.

His knees buckled when you walked through the door. His bony hands, skin so tight that his veins looked like they could pierce them, felt clammy whenever you looked his way. When you bumped into his shoulder, he could have sworn that it was a blessing. You were a fairy who had blessed his eyes, lips, body, mind. He was a fool. Fairies aren’t real. You couldn’t be real.

For you were just a simple dream. A dream that Akaashi would never seem to reach. He didn’t understand dreams. He didn’t understand you.

He wasn’t a dreamer.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

cheese cult bbs ❤ : @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @writingsbycrackhead @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @miyuswriting @raevaioli

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erosjock · 4 years ago

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27 Ways to Get Over a Breakup, Like, Right Now

Going through a breakup is low-key the best time to rebrand yourself. You can be whoever you want to be, do whatever you want to do, and try anything you want to try without having to consider anyone but yourself.

But considering breakups = losing someone who was consistently in your life, it can be easy to dwell on the past instead of looking at what your future self can bring to the table. Completely understandable.

This content is imported from {embed-name}. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

So to help you cope with all things breakup (since, hi, your future best self is waiting), we’ve sourced a bunch of tangible, practical ways you can actually get over someone according to experts who want to help. Because yes, sometimes buying yourself flowers at the grocery store is a lil start.

Sex Expert Reacts to Iconic Sex Scenes on RIOT TV

How You Get Over a Breakup, by Zodiac Sign

1. Shower daily. I know this seems small, but trust, it makes all the difference. “Prioritizing your hygiene and taking pride in how you look can often make you feel better inside,” says licensed clinical psychologist Kristie Norwood. So get yourself a morning and nighttime routine that requires a rinse in the shower. After all, shower thoughts are the best kind of thoughts, and it might be super therapeutic. Small wins are the best wins.

2. Create a vision board. Yup, it’s time to paint a badass picture of what your future is about to look like. (Time to get on that manifesting kick). “After breakups, it’s important to figure out what your life will look like without the relationship as it was,” says Norwood. So pick up some magazines—yes, full permission to grab some Cosmos— and cut out images that you put into art your life goals and desires.

3. Treat yourself to a new sex toy. Luckily for you, vibrators come completely drama-free (and in some cases, are better than the real deal). “Cleanse yourself of any negative energy through an orgasm,” says sex educator Yael Rosenstock Gonzalez. An orgasm a day keeps the doctor away (...that’s the saying, right?).

4. Go to therapy It’s time to make an appointment for therapy, suggests licensed clinical social worker Amalia Miralrío. Especially considering an unbiased perspective could offer you insight that you weren’t able to process yourself. Get started with some free options here.

Benefits of the No Contact Rule Post-Breakup

5. Buy yourself a big bouquet of pink roses. Put them in a vase, water them, and wait for them to wilt. When it’s time to throw them out, check in with your feelings. Guess what? By the time those roses die, you’ll already feel better. Then, keep buying yourself roses, recommends Veronica Yip, a San Diego resident who swears by this hack.

6. Visit a rage room. It’s…a legit thing. “Get out all your anger and smash objects to your heart’s content,” recommends Lauren Cook, who holds a master’s in marriage and family therapy.

7. Go on that vacation you’ve been dying to—even if it’s by yourself. “Getting away to an exotic location or somewhere peaceful is a potent source of distraction,” says therapist Rev. Sheri Heller. What’s better than lounging beachside with a good book, frozen drank, and the ocean waves? Talk about self-care.

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8. Rearrange your home. Get rid of all those bad memories. “A new look creates space for new memories. Out with the old, inviting the new,” recommends Krysta Monet creator and founder of The Feminine Truth.

9. Purge your relationship junk drawer. Yes, this includes that ticket stub you’ve kept from your first date. “You don’t need the reminders of a relationship that is no longer,” says Robyn Koenig, professional dating coach and CEO at Rare Find.

How Long It Actually Takes to Get Over a Breakup

10. Write hate mail to your ex. But don’t actually send it (and tell your sister not to either, à la Lara Jean). “The caveat is not to mail the letter but to do a ceremonial burning to get rid of the toxic energy,” recommends Samantha Gregory, author of No More Crumbs: How to Stop Dating for Crumbs and Get the Cake You Finally Deserve.

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11. Say yes to everything. “This is especially useful if you’ve been in a long-term relationship where you’ve compromised and negotiated what you ate, where you went, what you watched, and who you socialized with,” says Trish McDermott, CEO of Meetopolis Dating. “Who are you and what makes just *you* happy? Now is the time to find out.”

12. Eat alone. Whether you take yourself out to your favorite Thai place or make a home-cooked dinner, sit at the table and eat in silence. “Becoming comfortable with newly found silence is part of the recovery process,” says Megan Cannon, owner of Back to Balance Counseling.

13. Sign up for a boxing class—or any other type of fighting class. “Sometimes you need to find an outlet to divert the negative energies you get after a breakup,” says Celia Schweyer, dating and relationship expert at DatingScout. Trust, punching the eff out of something will *def* help with this added stress.

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14. Block them from your Instagram/Snapchat. If the temptation to see if they’ve been paying attention to your Stories is too much, just block them. This way, when you do start to get out there and share your day-to-day activities again, you’ll know there’s zero part of you that’s performatively “acting over it” in the hopes your ex will see it.

15. Don’t shit-talk your ex too much. Sure, it feels good to trash-talk your ex with your besties, and hearing that you were better than them from the start feels like a drug, but don’t rely on it. Hearing your friends bring down someone who made you feel shitty feels like it should be justified in the grand karmic scheme of things, but your health and happiness need not be contingent on someone else’s pain and suffering.

16. Don’t immediately suggest to “stay friends”—and if they do, tell them you need to think about it. This is an impulse because you don’t want to seem like you care too much about the breakup. Because you’re so chill. You’re so chill that your heart isn’t beating. Aaand, you’re dead. But truthfully, during this stilted, awkward breaking-up period, it’s hard to tell whether you’ll be able to be friends. Generally, one person wants to be friends and the other wants to be more. Gotta work that shit out before it can be a healthy friendship…if it ever can be. You’re not admitting defeat by not staying friends with them.

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alexsfictionaddiction · 5 years ago

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Alex Recommends: May and June Books

I must apologise for the late arrival of this post. It should have been up days ago but I’ve been struggling to read much for the last month or so. My head has been very foggy and dark with all of the confusion, anxiety and hate that has been filling my news feeds and I’ve been filled with a desire to combat it. Before this month, I’d have run in the opposite direction from any kind of confrontation but recent events have given me the kick up the butt to actively do better. I’ve been calling out bigotry when I come across it and I’ve noticed that some people, notably my older relatives, haven’t necessarily reacted favorably to the changed, more outspoken Alex. It has been pretty daunting and I’ve worked myself up into fits of rage and tears several times over the last couple of months.

A lot of things have changed for me since my last Alex Recommends post. I’m currently temporarily living in Staffordshire with my boyfriend because my depression got too bad for me to stay at home for much longer. I missed him unbelievably much and I knew that spending some prolonged time with him would help -and it has. Both him and I have spent 12 weeks religiously following all of the rules, so we’re both extremely low-risk for catching and spreading COVID-19 and being together was something that we simply really needed to do. Please don’t hate me for it! In other news, I have also started writing again, which feels amazing. I’m now a few thousand words into a queer Rapunzel retelling that I have lots of ideas for. Maybe I’ll even post an extract or two, when I feel it’s ready to show you.

In the centre of the renewed energy of Black Lives Matter and the undeniable exposure of the horrors that is police brutality, the book blogging and BookTube worlds vowed to uplift Black voices. I wrote a very long, in-depth blog post full of Black-written books and Black book influencers. Please check it out to diversify your TBR and educate yourself on Black issues, which is what every white person should be doing now and always.

June was Pride Month and I tried my best to compile a series of recommendation posts in honour of it. These included gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, ace, pansexual and intersex lists. I’ve had some great feedback on this, so I hope you find some fantastic new reads. It felt especially poignant to put them together the same year that one of my childhood heroes came out as an ignorant trans-exclusive feminist. As a lifelong Harry Potter superfan and someone who has repeatedly publicly supported Rowling in the past, I feel the need to clarify where I now stand. I do not support or agree with a single thing that she has said in recent times with regard to transgender people. I’ve never felt my own status as a cisgender female threatened by trans people wanting more rights or believed that children or women were at risk due to their existence.

I read her words more than once and struggled to find any semblance of the woman who wrote the books that have most defined my life. I’m hesitant to say that we can always successfully separate the art from the artist but I will say that it makes sense to me that the Rowling of 2020 is not the same Rowling that wrote Harry Potter. She was a destitute single mother when Philosopher’s Stone was published in 1997 and of course, she is now a million worlds away from that lifestyle. It breaks my heart but it makes sense to me that she has changed beyond belief because her life has changed beyond belief. I’m not and never would make any excuses for her recent behaviour and I have stopped supporting her personally but I will not be getting rid of my Harry Potter books and I will undoubtedly re-read them several more times. However, I am now hugely reluctant to buy any more merchandise or special editions of the books, which saddens me but at the moment, it feels right. There is no coming back for her from this and I will make a conscious effort to keep Harry Potter and Rowling away from my future content. It can be really tough to admit that the people you once really admired aren’t great humans but it’s something that we all have to acknowledge in this case, in order to move forward with our own quests to become our best selves.

It didn’t feel right to post my May recommendations last month as I didn’t feel comfortable promoting my own content in the midst of boosting Black voices. So today I’m bringing you a bumper edition of Alex Recommends. Here are 10 books that I’ve enjoyed since the start of May that I’d love to share with you. Enjoy! -Love, Alex x

FICTION: Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Set in the affluent neighbourhood of Shaker Heights, Ohio in the 1990s, two families are brought together and pulled apart by the most intense, devastating circumstances. Dealing with issues of race, class, coming-of-age, motherhood and the dangers of perfection, Little Fires Everywhere is highly addictive and effecting. With characters who are so heartbreakingly real and a story that weaves its way to your very core, I couldn’t put it down and I’m still thinking about it over a month after finishing it.

FICTION: Get A Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert

When coding nerd Chloe Brown almost dies, she makes a list of goals and vows to finally Get A Life. So she enlists tattooed redhead handyman and biker Red to teach her how. Cute, funny and ultimately life-affirming, this enemies-to-lovers rom-com was exactly the brand of light relief that I needed this month. The follow-up Take A Hint, Dani Brown focuses on a fake-dating situation with Chloe’s over-achieving academic sister and I can’t wait to get my hands on that.

FICTION: The Rearranged Life of Oona Lockhart by Margarita Montimore

Just before her 19th birthday at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1983, Oona Lockhart finds herself inexplicably in 2015 inside her 51-year-old body. She soon learns that every year on New Year’s Day, she will now find herself inside a random year of her life and she has no control over it. Seeing her through relationships, friendships and extreme wealth, this strange novel has echoes of Back To The Future and 13 Going On 30 with a final revelation that I certainly never saw coming.

NON-FICTION: The Five by Hallie Rubenhold

Atmospheric and engaging, The Five details the previously untold stories of Polly, Annie, Elisabeth, Kate and Mary-Jane -the women who lost their lives at the hands of Jack the Ripper. Full of fascinating research and heartbreaking accounts of what these women’s lives may have been like, Rubenhold paints a dark immersive portrait of Victorian London and gives voice to these tragic silenced lives. Although we can’t know for certain if these accounts are entirely accurate, they feel very plausible and in some ways, The Five exposes how little time has moved on, when it comes to the public portrayal of single, troubled women.

NON-FICTION: Unicorn by Amrou Al-Kadhi

From a childhood crush on Macaulay Culkin to how a teenage obsession with marine biology helped them realise their non-binary identity, Unicorn tells the story of how the obsessive perfectionist son of a strict Muslim Iraqi family became the gorgeous drag queen Glamrou. Packed full of humour, honesty and heart, this book will give you the strength and inspiration to harness what you were born with and be who you were always meant to be.

MIDDLE-GRADE: The Super Miraculous Journey of Freddie Yates by Jenny Pearson

When fact-obsessed Freddie’s grandmother dies, he discovers that the father he has never met may actually be alive and living in Wales. So he has no choice but to grab his best friends Ben and Charlie, leave his home in Andover and go to find his dad! I laughed so many times during this madcap adventure and I know the slapstick crazy humour will hit the middle-grade target audience just right. It’s also a wonderful depiction of small town Britain with a focus on the true meaning of family.

MIDDLE-GRADE: A Kind Of Spark by Elle McNicoll

When Addie learns about her hometown’s history of witch trials, she campaigns tirelessly to get a memorial for the women who lost their lives through it. This wonderfully beautiful novel gives a unique insight into the mind of an 11-year-old autistic girl with a huge heart. Busting myths about neurodiversity while tackling typical pre-teen drama, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry but most of all, you’ll close the book with a huge smile on your face.

HISTORICAL FICTION: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

In 16th century Warwickshire, Agnes is a woman with a unique gift whose relationship with a young Latin tutor produces three children and a legacy that lasts for centuries. This enchanting, all-consuming account of the tragic story of Shakespeare’s lost son, the effects that rippled through the family and the play that was born from their pain will send a bullet straight through your heart. Wonderfully researched and beautifully written, Hamnet is worth all of the hype.

HISTORICAL FICTION: The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

When a vicious storm kills most of the men of Vardø, Norway, it’s up to the women to keep things going but a man with a murderous past is about to come down with an iron fist. At the heart of this dark tale of witch trials, grief and feminism, two women find something they’ve each been searching for within each other. Gorgeously written with a fantastically slow-burning queer romance, Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s first adult novel is an addictive, atmospheric read with a poignant, tearjerker of an ending.

SCI-FI: Q by Christina Dalcher

When one of Elena’s daughters manages to drop below the country’s desired Q number, she is sent away to one of the new state schools and Elena is about to find out something she’d really rather not know about the new system. Packed full of real social commentary and critique of life as we know it while painting a picture of how things could be even worse (yes, really!), this pulse-racing, horrifying sci-fi dystopian gripped me from the first page and refused to let me go.

#book recommendations #recommended #recommendations #may #june #books #bookworm

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fandoms-equal-life · 6 years ago

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Rewriting Their Stars Once Again - The Greatest Showman Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Family Matters

Originally Posted on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365846/chapters/45440608#workskin

Summary: What will happen when Anne visits Phillip's family home?

Notes:

This took like 3 hours to write.

I wrote it at work and every time my co worker walked behind me I was worried he was reading it 😂 I don’t even know how I would explain myself.

Also let me know if the part where Anne visits the Carlyles’ is insensitive or weirdly worded. I might be big mouthed and opinionated, but I am not looking to offend anyone. I am only here to write fanfic to fulfill my lonely heart.

Also I am sorry I am so inconsistent. It is my goal this month to finish this fic and I am really trying to finish my goals for once! Thank you for the continued support!!❤️

The next two months were tough.

Anne was so sick, the morning sickness turned into all day sickness and there was not much food she could keep down. If Anne got out of bed for any other reason but to empty her stomach, it was a good day.

On top of that, her stomach was very large. She knew this should not be a shock to her, but when she sees herself in the mirror, she is still in disbelief. A seamstress came over just to make her custom dresses, and even P.T. used his childhood work as a tailor to make a couple items of clothing for her.

She needed to use the restroom all the time, her feet were getting larger, and her ankles and fingers were swelling. She had to start wearing her wedding ring on a chain around her neck.

The doctors’ visits every 2 weeks were difficult to endure. Dr. Turner would never let her walk in by herself, instead making her a wheelchair. Also, he could only give so much information about what was happening inside her body. Triplets were complicated for the highest paying doctor, let alone one who would see Anne.

But the hardest part of it all was Phillip could not always be there. With the circus struggling, he was swamped with work to make sure it is kept afloat.

Thankfully, she had a big family to fall back on. When Charity alone took her, the trips were fairly easy. Sometimes she had to bring the girls, which were usually filled with endless questions for the doctor, Helen once asking “Will all three of them come out at the same time?”

Charity had to leave the room with them before Dr. Turner could give an answer.

When Lettie brought her, she usually brought Tom along as backup. His loud mouth scared anyone away who might bring them trouble. Tom is so protective, that he stands directly outside the door during the checkups.

The other doctors and nurses tend to stay away on the days Lettie and Tom come along.

Do not even get Anne started about the time P.T., Caroline, and Helen accompanied her. The doctors requested that P.T. never step foot in their office again.

Even with all of this going on, Anne and Phillip were very excited. They wanted to grow their family, but, the looming danger of the end of the pregnancy and the delivery still loomed over the couple.

Anne and Phillip kept themselves distracted from this fact. They each joined the bet on which sex would outnumber the other (Anne thinks there will be more boys, while Phillip bet on more girls), Phillip and P.T. rearranged the furniture in the apartment to fit the three cradles, and Anne organized the gifts they were still receiving every day. The list of baby names becomes longer as the pregnancy becomes shorter. Anne likes family and classic names, but Phillip wants whole new names for his kids. Their family at the circus has new names suggestions every day, but only a few make it onto the real list, especially after Tom insisted that naming one of the potential boys after his horse in the show would be a great idea.

One night, when Anne and Phillip were sitting in their apartment, she asked why he was not in favor for family names.

“After that night at the theater, I have no desire to be associated with them anymore. The Carlyle name is something I wish I could rid myself of. I know they are going to take my last name, but other than that, I want something new.” Phillip explains with a soft smile. “I know that you never knew your mom and dad, but my family is not anything to be proud of.”

“Would you reconnect with your family if they came to you?” Anne asked.

“Maybe my little brother Daniel, but I’m not sure. Before I left and was disowned, he had rejected our father. I was the first born with all the privileges, and Daniel resented father for that. Last I heard that had all changed after he took my place as prize son with the inheritance. I assume he took my father’s side along with mother and the rest of my extended family, which is most likely why he did not attend our wedding.” Phillip told her.

Anne looked at him with soft, apologetic eyes. Anne knew that Daniel missing the wedding hurt Phillip. She thinks Phillip hoped for them to reconnect, that he could introduce Daniel to his new family and to the love of his life.

“But that is all behind me. Now I have a big and loving family and three little ones on the way.” Phillip says, kissing her protruding stomach. “Are you ready for bed?” he asks.

“Almost. You go get ready first then you can help me and my added baggage” she replied, pointing to her stomach.

He laughed and nodded, then walked into their bedroom, Anne got up to write a letter to their doorman to call a carriage for her as soon as Phillip walked out the door. She had a plan.

The carriage dropped Anne off at one of the largest houses she had ever seen.

It was beautiful.

The Carlyle house was painted all white, with big pillars holding up what Anne could only guess was 3 stories. They had big windows that would let plenty of natural light in, and Anne could see through the windows how ornate the inside looked. The lawn was well manicured, with flower bushes lining the front and big looming trees growing on the outside of the house, almost like a wall in between the other houses. She noticed that while it was stunning, that was negated by the cold atmosphere that seemed to surround the house.

As Anne was observing the house, she noticed one of workers in the lawn trimming the bushes. It was obvious that he was overworked and sunburnt, and most importantly:

He looked like her.

This brought her back to the reality of the situation. She was not home with her loving husband, or surrounded by her other oddities at the circus, she was standing in front of a wealthy white family’s home who, in another life, may have worked her as hard as the man she is looking at.

At this, she held herself as tall as the three children she was carrying would let her, put her hands clasped in front of her, and walked to the door.

The man in the lawn subtly glanced at her, not making any eye contact, as he probably does with all guests, until he noticed that Anne was not one of the Carlyle’s usual guests. He went to go help her up to the door, but she denied his help politely.

She would not be seen as weak. She was a woman on a mission, pregnant with three children or not.

Anne walked up to the door and knocked. A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform answered the door almost immediately. She also did not make eye contact with Anne when she first opened the door, but when the maid realized the difference between the color of Anne’s skin than the usual guest, she looked up in shock.

The maid was about to step out and close the door when Anne interjected “I am here to see Daniel Carlyle. It is urgent matter.”

The woman at the door glanced down at Anne’s pregnant stomach then back up at her. “Ms. I am sorry for any inconveniences Master Carlyle may have caused you, but you must leave immediately...”

Anne was about to put up a fight when she heard someone ask, “Mary who is at the door and why have you not let them in?”

Anne pushed pass the maid and stood in the doorway of the mansion in front of the person who was speaking.

Anne knew immediately it was Daniel.

His hair was a little lighter than Phillip’s and his face was not as clean cut. He was maybe a little shorter than Phillip, and a little leaner too. But his eyes were almost exactly the same, except for the fact they were cold and hard, while Phillip’s were warm and inviting.

Similar to how Phillip’s were when he first joined the circus.

Daniel stared back at her. Anne wondered if he knew who she was. But word travels fast through the wealthy people of New York; therefore, Anne realizes that the whole family must know of the pregnancy.

Anne sticks out her hand to Daniel. “Hello Mr. Carlyle. As you probably know, my name is Anne Wheeler and I am here to talk about your older brother.” Anne begins when they hear the footsteps of woman shoes coming towards them.

Daniel lunges at Anne and grabs her hand. “We must get you away from the door and away from mother. Mary close the door and tell her it was just the lawn man giving you an update about his work.”

Daniel shuffles her down a hall in the opposite direction, quickly pushing themselves into a spare bedroom, just as Anne heard what she assumes is Mrs. Carlyle asking what had happened at the door.

After he closed the door quietly, he turned around to face her. Anne had prepared a speech for Daniel. She had planned it to be polite and not so straightforward, so she could plant the seed in his head that his brother missed him.

“Hello, Mr. Carlyle. As you already know, I’m -” Anne began.

Daniel interrupted her. “I know who you are! You are one of the crazy people who brainwashed my brother to think it is okay to be disowned by his family. I used to doubt my father’s decision to take away his inheritance, but you, standing here carrying what I can only assume is his bastard child, I see now that he was correct. Whatever you came here for, money, help, protection, the Carlyle family will not give it to you or him. You need to leave this place immediately, the only reason I brought you into this room was to save you from mother’s wrath, as I am a gentleman. Do not ever come back, or else you will face even worse than me.”

Daniel looked pleased with himself, like he really thought that he put Anne in her place.

Anne does not know what came over her next, maybe rage at this man, love for her husband and her unborn children, or the hormones from pregnancy, but instead of leaving to cause less trouble, she yelled back,

“I did not sneak here without my husband’s knowledge, catch a rickety carriage while pregnant, and swallow my pride to visit the family that insulted Phillip and myself on what was supposed to be a happy night so I could ask for money or protection. I woke up and managed to get out of bed by myself to visit you, Daniel Carlyle, because my husband, your big brother, misses you to the point I think a part of his heart is missing.”

Daniel tries to interrupt her again, but Anne continues, “Phillip, the big brother that would comfort you after nightmares because your father and mother wouldn’t. The one who snuck you fantasy books while your teacher forced you to read nonfiction. The one who took a punch to the face after you stole from the biggest kid on your block, and, most importantly, the big brother that still loves you even though you obviously think so low of him.”

“I came here to tell you that right now, your big brother needs you. He is running a business all by himself while also having to worry about me and the three children I am carrying, and whether or not we will make it through the labor. So, Mr. Carlyle, I did not show up here today to ask for anything monetary, I traveled here because I thought my husband could benefit from a relationship with his brother, but I was obviously wrong.”

At that, she turned out and stormed out. Anne would be damned if she would wait for Daniel to check the hallways for a “safe” passage way for her. She did not mean to tell him the details of their life, but once she started talking, she could not stop. Today made her realize that the only place she is really safe is in the red and white striped tents.

Anne started seeing white around the corner of her eyes and her ears were ringing. She thought it was the rage, but after she walked out of the mansion, she felt herself becoming weak. All of the sudden her vision went black and she felt herself starting to fall. The last thing she heard was a male voice shouting “ANNE!”

Chapters 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6 ~ 8 ~ 9 ~ 10 ~ 11

#the greatest showman #phillip carlyle #anne wheeler #Phillip x anne #my fanfics #zac efron #zendaya

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darkstar6782 · 4 years ago

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3.02: The Kids Are Alright - My Rewatch Review

This episode leans real heavy into the ‘creepy kids’ trope, and I am absolutely here for it. I especially love the fact that the show was able to get away with showing a mom trying to get rid of her monster child by letting her car roll into a lake. Call it a morbid fascination, but there is definitely something to Eric Kripke’s fascination with pushing the envelope when it comes to what he can show on-screen in service of this horror-movie-of-the-week TV show that I really love (this praise will return for ‘A Very Supernatural Christmas’ as well, which is chock-full of examples of his gloriously sick sense of humor). It is possible that there will come a time when it horrifies rather than fascinates me—my friends who have become mothers all seem to lose their objectivity when it comes to fictional depictions of children in peril—but at least for now, it definitely intrigues more than disturbs me.

I also do love the introduction of both Lisa and Ben, and the insight they bring into a new dimension to Dean’s character. I have no doubt that Dean would have been a great dad—the way he has taken care of Sam for most of his life is evidence enough, and we get many great examples throughout the show of his fatherly instincts and of him being great with kids—but this is the first time that he has ever expressed even a passing thought at the possibility that a normal life, with a wife and a kid, would be something that he might want. And while I don’t think it ever became something that he really wanted—unlike Sam, whose desire for a normal life is well-known—it’s not surprising that here, when he’s staring death in the face, that he would start to think about what his life might have been if he had taken a different path, and Ben and Lisa are the perfect snapshot into that alternate reality that he can allow himself to fantasize about for a little while.

For a long time, I had disliked the way that this episode leans very heavily on depicting Ben as a mini-Dean in order to get that point across, but this time around, I saw two alternate possibilities that painted his character traits in a different light. In the first place, there could have definitely been some projection on Dean’s part, of only noticing the things that Ben said and did that reminded him of himself and therefore we, as the audience, only seeing those elements of Ben’s personality as well. And in the second, more likely scenario, though Lisa does not get a whole lot of character development herself in this episode, we are at least treated to the insight that she does, in fact, have a ‘type,’ which means that it is more than likely that Ben got a lot of his interests—classic cars, classic rock, the way he dresses—and his personality quirks from her. Because despite the suburban-mom stereotype she is playing up, it’s not that big a leap to assume that, if she likes guys who act and dress like that and like those things, that she also at times acts and dresses like that and has shared her love for those things with her kid. So even though we never see it (unfortunately), I like to think that Lisa is—or at least was, and maybe aspires to be again—a bit of a bad-girl biker chick on the inside, and that’s why eight-year-old Ben (but not older Ben, as we will see later in the series) seems to mirror Dean so much in this episode.

The one thing I am still trying to wrap my head around in this episode is the whole interaction between Sam and Ruby, specifically the information that he finds out about his mom’s family and friends. Because I can’t remember if this actually goes anywhere in particular, and I am trying to figure out why they make it such of a big deal in this episode if it doesn’t really have any payoff. Now that I think about it, it is possible that this whole plot thread, sort of like the one about the special, more powerful demons that we saw last episode and also feels like it doesn’t go anywhere, were casualties of the writers’ strike. Because given what we know about where the story of Mary Winchester goes from here, it seems likely that this plot point was set up as a first step towards Sam discovering his mother was a hunter, and the truth about the deal she made that led to Yellow Eyes being in Sam’s nursery the night he died. But then, the season got cut short, the storyline had to be rearranged, and when we come back for Season 4, that revelation is given to Dean by the angels instead. I do find that development to be a bit unfortunate, because it feels like the show was building up to give Sam a vital role in uncovering their family history and coming to terms with it in his own time, and because the story had to be rewritten, we don’t get nearly as much insight into how that discovery affects him in the end, because the revelation and the subsequent fallout all come from Dean’s perspective, for the most part.

#supernatural #3.02 the kids are alright #spn rewatch #tgpcSPNr #the great pre-convention SPN rewatch

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lekshk · 5 years ago

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Lock Down Diaries Part 1: When PG Becomes Home

I was a little girl alone in my little world who dreamed of a little home for me.

~ Priscilla Ahn (Song: Dream)

I think this lock down has been an eye opener in several ways. For one, I never knew I enjoyed sitting at home! I stay in a PG in Bangalore (which has 5 floors and 2 apartments on every floor with 4 bedrooms and a hall each). There’s a single room and the other 3 rooms are shared by 3-4 girls each. As my weekends were usually packed earlier, my inmates used to joke my single room is nothing but a hotel room– a place to dump things and sleep at night. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would keep myself occupied at home, if I could call it one!

Earlier we were approximately 100 girls and by the time lock down was announced, it got reduced to 11, in fact rather 10 + 1 because the 11th inmate was a girl staying in another PG before and who moved in with her sister here. She was now paying rent at both the places!

The best part about the lockdown for me was when the 9 girls in my apartment moved to their homes because of work from home option! Trust me, for the past 1 year I have been searching a 1 BHK of my choice but was getting none because I refused to move out of the area I was staying in! So attached was I to the locality (which I still am), my happiness knew no bounds when I got the whole apartment to myself!

PS: my inmates are great. It’s just that I craved for solitude and that explains my need to be out on weekends too earlier.

Once I grasped the fact that my desire for solitude had become a reality, I made myself comfortable at home. The balcony, cloth rack, hall, TV, all to myself, I became the queen of the apartment at 4th floor!

Immediately I set out to work. The first thing I did was rearrange the room. That mere act itself became refreshing for me. The changed layout opened the window of my mind. It simply elevated my mood. I realized the junk both outside and inside, I felt relieved to see my room (aka matchbox as I fondly call it) began breathing to life with light seeping in. Getting rid of unwanted things de cluttered my mind. Also, as there was no one to monitor what I was doing, I got the complete freedom to do what I want which was the BIGGEST PLUS.

Picture 1: Matchbox transformed to Cape of Good Hope

Taking an example of the character named Divya from the movie Bangalore days, I glass painted the window of my room. I used finger painting technique for this and brought colors to my matchbox.

Picture 2: Finger glass painting of window (colorful sticky notes with my favorite motivational quotes as background to the painting)

Next, I set out to bring more conversations to my room. Stationary items and colorful sticky notes are my all-time favorites. I set out to make the Tree of My Life, an exercise given to me by my therapist earlier. The tree of life is nothing but connecting your life with the sections of a tree.

Picture 3: Tree of Life on the cupboard behind me

Since work from home was a new feature, never done before, my initial few weeks just went in sleeping well. It looked as if I had years of sleep to catch up to. And indeed it was! If you recall, my weekends were packed earlier, so my body rested only during sleep at night. Sleeping through the day gave me the well-deserved break! One month went by just becoming a human “being” from a human “doing”. I also realized working at nights made me more productive because the stillness of the night gave me the concentration I needed to work efficiently. One month of the lock down went by like this.

After that, my body started to feel fresh again. Now I was ready to “do” things. I continued my reading habit and made it a point to read 20 minutes daily. Because I have been trained in Carnatic vocal and Bharatanatyam, I decided to nurture my desire of learning painting because I love it! And that’s how I came across finger painting to which I am addicted till date.

I enrolled for an online finger-painting workshop. And it truly brought out joy in me because painting is an activity which can get meditative and if it’s with your fingers, it adds a personalized touch by bringing all your emotions in it.

Picture 4: Finger paintings (Bangalore Drawing Room)

Long back I had attended a mind valley master class by Robin Sharma in which he had talked about the 60 minute club, the essence of which is simply this - 20 minute exercise, 20 minute meditation, 20 minute a creative activity. For exercise, I chose dance, for meditation, I chose anilom vilom and/or surya namaskar and for creativity either painting or reading or listening to the radio.

I decided not to exert my body with over activity. Dance once a week, surya namaskar twice a week, anilom vilom twice a week. Weekends were cheat days.

I had the habit of making a to do list earlier just to keep the day interesting and something to look forward to. When I checked that, I realized my desire to learn sign language was pending because of my reluctance to travel to the center which was far. As if the lock down heard my prayers, they were conducting online classes. I didn’t waste even a second and grabbed the seat in their first ever virtual classroom. Two weeks, Monday to Friday, 4-5 pm was booked for learning basic sign language where I met some amazing bunch of people passionate to learn like me and a teacher passionate to teach us.

Picture 5: Day 1 of Virtual Basic Sign Language Course with GiftAbled

Picture 6: Completing the course

Learning virtually wasn’t easy because it was a new concept for me but somehow everything just fell in place. I dared to show my vulnerability here and got the supporting hands (virtually) of my teacher, founder and my fellow mates. The 2 week course work was fun, interactive and so supportive! I seemed to have entered a new world altogether!

Post that there was no looking back. I knew I was going to crack this lock down. PG had now become my home. Big Bazaar my savior for online shopping of essentials. I bought biscuits, ready to cook stuff for evening snacks as I was used to in office. Black coffee with honey or jaggery in the evenings became my lock down ritual. Holding the coffee mug in the terrace and looking at the entire Whitefield area, calling my parents (settled in Trivandrum) around that time every day mandatory became a part of the routine. A lot of people at the neighboring buildings chose to play cricket or badminton or yoga at their terraces during the time. Social distancing at its best, seeing people in the evenings gave me the sense of what’s happening around.

I would go out to purchase fruits from a nearby vendor once a week with all the precautionary measures.

Slowly, the lock down, work from home, virtual classes, calling parents, PG life post lock down became part of my daily life. Occasionally I would cook. Sometimes, I would revamp the food the cook prepared. Like for instance, if it was Dosa for breakfast, I would convert it to Cheese Masala Dosa. Bringing some change here and there brought out joy in me. I started eating a lot of fruits which I didn’t earlier.

After getting comfortable with online interactions, I decided to be part of online community gatherings, one such, being with Dialogues Cafe - A topic on how people were coping up. I also participated in online book club meets like Bring Your Own Book, Dialogues with Books etc.

Now, I decided to continue my other passion - Volunteering. Earlier, Bangalore traffic would discourage me to travel anywhere! Volunteering Online for Volunteer For a Cause (VFC) resolved this and I got to know about so many days celebrated nationally and/or internationally! Starting from World Earth Day celebrated on 22 April, World Book Day on 24 April, World Wishbone Day on 06 May, World Thalassemia Day on 08 May, Menstrual Health Day on 28 May, Elderly Abuse Awareness Day and the June month culminating with the Pride Month, I was on a volunteering spree uploading pictures in social media handles to create awareness! I started gaining a sense of purpose through them. I also attended online awareness sessions conducted by them on how to do your bit in rescuing animals or know the city better or what to do in accident cases or how to do your bit for a greener, sustainable society or waste management or what’s child abuse or what’s mental health? I also made customized handmade cards and posed them online to celebrate birthdays of children residing in children’s home or women residing in rehabilitation centers.

Picture 7: Throwback pictures - World Earth Day (22 April)

Picture 8: Bookfie - World Book Day (24 April)

Pictures 9: World Wishbone Day (06 May)

Picture 10: World Thalassemia Day (08 May)

Picture 11: Menstrual Health Day (28 May)

Picture 12: Elderly Abuse Awareness Day

Picture 13: Pride Month - A Dot Mandala using pearl acrylic colors on my diary (Proud to be an Ally)

Picture 14: Birthday Jingles

At workplace too, I made it a point to attend webinars on relationships, leadership, coping with anxiety and I was unfortunate enough to listen to some amazing speakers who shared their profound wisdom and experiences. Life started becoming more and meaningful as the days passed. Having a good team to work was an added bonus.

Weekends I would also connect with my school friends on zoom call and bitch about our classmates. This lock down period, a lot of groups became active and we got an opportunity to reconnect.

Finally, because of a writing habit cultivated from childhood, I would write the following in my thought journal almost every day–

I AM GOOD ENOUGH. I DESERVE RESPECT.

I AM NOT THE PROBLEM. THE PROBLEM IS THE PROBLEM.

Whenever possible, I would also write in my gratitude journal things to thank about.

I didn’t know if it made any sense, but it told me about the probable good times ahead.

There were problems in the PG like water, electricity, lift not working and so on and so forth. But we sailed through all this - PG inmates, cook, caretaker and of course the owners. The 11 of us who didn’t even know each others names, now made it a point to stay in touch through a Whatsapp group we formed. There were difference in opinions, rude talk, fights with the owners, care taker, rent dispute etc but more or less we managed through the lock down period.I remember reading a friend’s Facebook post to not to leave Whatsapp groups but instead use this as an opportunity to stay connected because that’s what we need the most right now. I couldn’t agree any better.

Part 2: Heading Home

Two months later a direct train from Bangalore to Trivandrum was started and 1800 bookings were expected for the train to get moving. I immediately registered in the Karnataka state website Seva Sindhu and NORKA roots (for people residing outside Kerala but within India) and Covid 19 Jagratha website for Kerala state. I thought it would take at least a week for bookings to happen but I got the PNR number the very next day and the train was to leave the day after! I quickly packed my bags anticipating a 2-week institution quarantine.

The train was to leave at 8 pm from Bangalore Cantonment station and I reached the station at 7 pm. That’s when I got a shock from the police there that I was late and I had to get a medical check-up done to get a token to board the train! Luckily, I had reached the station in an auto so I asked him to take me to the place where the check up was being done to get the token. It was at Palace Grounds and I had the shock of my life to see the police, BMTC buses, volunteers all shouting at me to get the token quickly!

There were 3 counters- 2 for registration and one for checking the temperature! I quickly completed the registration formalities and got the token! The joke was I thought all these people were going to different states and since it was already 7.45 pm, I was trying to rush out to go back to the station. That’s when I realized all these people (close to 1500) were headed to where I was and they were waiting since 12 pm to board the train! That’s when I got to know along with PNR number message, there was another one which gave details about what time to reach and where. Unfortunately, I hadn’t received it! I was lucky enough to get an auto driver who understood the severity of the situation and waited should I need to be taken back to the station. I payed him extra and thanked him and waited with the rest of the passengers to board the bus which would take us to the station. Surprisingly, people showed tremendous restraint as they patiently waited for their turns to board the bus. Finally, after an hour, we were all taken to the station, given food kits and compartment numbers to board. Temperature was checked yet again before boarding the train. It was a chair car non- A/C passenger train which had space for 2 passengers in one seat. At 10.30 pm, the train started to Kerala. My co passenger was a mother of two from Delhi whose children were in Bangalore. They were heading to their newly built house in Kerala which was the safest to stay for them at the time! The journey became eventful having her by my side. We shared our experiences, our thoughts, life in Bangalore, life in Delhi, future life in Kerala, politics etc. The most suffocating experience was wearing a mask for 15 hours! But one couldn’t take any chances! Kudos to all the volunteers who relentlessly and patiently worked to see we reached our destinations safely! Special thanks to the Bengluru police, BMTC for their support.

Sleep was a disturbing one due to the chair car. But early morning when the train hit Palakkad station, the view, the greenery to be precise, was so refreshing! Though it was a direct train from Bangalore to Trivandrum, the train halted at 4 more stations in Kerala – Palakkad, Trissur, Ernakulam, Kottayam. The moment the train hit the station announcements started coming in – to stand in the designated areas marked for social distancing. The authorities wore Personal Protective Equipments (PPE). The journey now became eventful and filled with greenery. I ate the bun from the food kit I had got and ate the fruits I had packed for the journey. It was 12.30 pm, when I reached my station. At the counter they suggested institution quarantine as my parents were elderly. However, I convinced them for a home quarantine because I had the provision for a separate room with a separate entry and exit and having an attached bathroom. After they filled in my details, our baggage were probably fumigated and I had the option of either calling my father to pick me up from the station or be taken home in a private vehicle as I stayed half an hour from the station. I chose the latter because it was too late to call my father and it wasn’t allowed to wait at the station.

The private vehicle arranged was such the doors, dicky was opened by the driver himself and I had to place my baggage and remove them on my own. Hands were sanitized and after dropping me home, his car would be sanitized again before taking the next passenger. Throughout the proceedings I was very impressed by the arrangements made by the government. I just saw my parents while alighting from the car. I entered my room with an attached bathroom from a separate entrance. Thereafter, food was placed at my doorstep everyday till the quarantine got over. We never had a direct contact throughout the quarantine period. Health volunteers visited me and placed a “this house is in quarantine” sticker outside my house gate. The 2 months in my PG prepped me for the 2-week quarantine! All communication was either through Whatsapp or phone call. Finally, after quarantine got over, I got a certificate from the health inspector stating I was free of quarantine after being advised one by the state.

So many people are working hard day in day out to fight this pandemic! The least service I could do for them is staying home safely. My cousin who is a doctor had already instructed my mother on the quarantine measures to be taken before I took occupancy. Meanwhile my school friend too had given me the home quarantine guidelines. I think by far this has been the most interesting independent experience I have had, living in silos. I have been living away from my parents for the past 2.5 years.

Pictures 14: Heading for Qurantine

The most courageous thing for me was the train ride and the umpteen faith on the journey ahead. Of course, being Kerala, I knew I would be well taken care of. My parents being elderly, I also had the option during quarantine to get food delivered at my doorstep through volunteers at a nominal charge of Rs 20/meal. Since my mother insisted she would cook, I didn’t go for it. All in all, in the current scenario, I have so many people to thank to, so many moments to be proud and amazed at and most importantly, so many moments to pat on my back and tell myself – well done!

Since staying with parents have limitations in terms of independence and freedom, I continued to entertain myself watching movies on Amazon Prime, Netflix, stand up comedies on you tube and my favorite - 2019 Magsaysay award winner Ravish Kumar’s speeches. Laughter and reality check can help to keep a mind active and sane. Reading and writing have now become occasional and I ain’t complaining. Circumstances and environment has changed and I too am taking things as it comes.

Picture 15: Post lock down and room quarantine

To conclude - “A relationship with myself” is what I “earned” this lock down. I would make sure to talk to a close friend about how I felt till I became capable of managing my emotions on my own safe in the knowledge I could talk to her anytime. Similarly, she would talk to me the same manner. It is true when they say we “thrive” in relationships. From the webinar on relationships at work place I learnt, when we seek relationships, we are, in reality searching for ourselves and there’s nothing wrong in feeling lonely. “Acknowledging it” and moving “forward” to change it to a more positive feeling is a brave effort we could all attempt. Don’t at any point undermine your thoughts and feelings. I still do at times, despite knowing it. But like I said earlier (I am good enough, so being kind to myself is what I am practicing off late and seems to be the toughest challenge till date). “Seeking help” is another brave opportunity I am giving myself. Hanging in to the wonderful relationships I have with the realistic knowledge they are susceptible to change took me 2 months of lock down. Also, confronting an expectation not met and seeing what can be done amicably is another challenge I am sailing through with hiccups. I am neither defining them or myself through this experience. Because the right things have come to me when I least expected it. I had umpteen disappointments. Feeling stuck has been a horrible experience anytime and yet, by giving my mind the exercise to experience it has made only me a stronger individual for sure.

Knowing who you are and what you can be is itself a great experience of “being”. Cherish it and seek hope, if possible, when there seems none at all because-

“Hope is a good thing, may be the best of things and no good thing ever dies”

~ Shawshank Redemption

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imaginejamesandsirius · 8 years ago

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Hey there :) if you've seen Tangled (and liked it), would you consider doing a Tangled!AU with Sirius as Rapunzel (since he's the one who ran away, and Walburga would do a great Mother Gothel) and James as Flynn? I hope I'm not asking too much... Thanks! ~AJ

Sirius watched Walburga leave out the window that served as her doorway for the umpteenth time. He’d asked to leave again, and she’d gotten mad. Furious, really, and it left Sirius wondering why he couldn’t be happy with what he had. It quelled his immediate desire to leave, and certainly the idea of asking again soon. Yet he still wanted to go. It wasn’t something he could shake, deep-set in his bones like an itch that wouldn’t lessen no matter what he tried.

He sighed, turning back to his room and assessing what he could do with his time today. He could reread one of the five books he had. Paint, maybe, but he’d have to cover something that was already up if he wanted to do that.

He wanted to be on the ground, in the grass, the river, one of the trees… He closed the window/door and took down his hair. Brushing it took half an hour, and then he would clean. Again. Sirius idly wondered how often regular people cleaned. Walburga said they were content to live in filth, and Sirius could certainly see why if they had other things to do. The only reason he cleaned three times a day was because there was little else he could do. He would trade cleanliness for the ability to go outside in a heartbeat.

~~~

Walburga left again. Sirius watched her walk away, arms propped on the sill, and waved when she turned around to look at him. He knew she only wanted what was best for him but sometimes… sometimes he wished she didn’t care so much. He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. Wishing he could make terrible mistakes? What was he thinking?

He cleaned, read, thought about painting, brushed his hair, cleaned, ate, cleaned.

~~~

Walburga visited. She left.

He cleaned, rearranged the dishes, opened the skylight, ate, brushed his hair, cleaned.

~~~

Walburga visited and left, kissing one of his cheeks leaving the slightest of red smears from her lips before she departed. He stared at the smudge in the mirror, wishing she would come back. She didn’t; she only visited once a day. Always had. He cleaned his face, cleaned the room, then sat in the windowsill and stared at where Walburga always appeared. Sirius felt so lonely he could choke.

A few hours later he got up, ate, brushed his hair, cleaned, then sat back in the opening.

~~~

Wake up, eat, clean, wait for Walburga, rearrange the room, clean, eat, wait for Walburga, try to get her to stay longer, mope, eat, clean. That night he climbed out of the skylight and laid on the roof to look at the stars.

Walburga had shown him all the constellations when he was younger, telling him stories of how they came to be and why she had named him after the brightest star in the sky. “You’re my bright baby boy, Sirius, and you live in this tower to be like that star,” she said, Sirius young enough to stare at the white speck with wide eyes and feel important, “untouched by the wretched people below and still shining brightly.” Sirius had thought that was a little silly. What was the point of being bright if no one could see you? But when he said that, Walburga had replied, “I see you, isn’t that enough? Besides,” she ran a hand through his hair, “out there, people would take advantage of your gift.” He later thought that she was the one taking advantage of his gift, but he was smart enough to know he shouldn’t say it.

The night was warm in an endlessly pleasant way. His hand was held above him, tracing the shapes he had long since memorised. He stayed out on the roof until the sky started to light and waited until he could see the sun through the tips of the trees.

He wasn’t tired, but he went to bed. It’s not like it mattered what he did. What would it effect? He has plenty of candles and Walburga was loud enough to wake him while she made her way up to him if he slept too late.

In all honesty, Sirius doesn’t know how much longer he can live like this. For all that she called him star, treasure, and ‘my bright boy’, Walburga didn’t seem to like him very much, and she was the only human contact Sirius had.

~~~

Sirius was more nervous than he’d ever been-- not that he had much cause to be nervous in his everyday life. If he was lucky, Walburga wouldn’t notice that he was lying, and if he was very very lucky, she wouldn’t know he had left until he could get far enough away to not have to return.

Walburga was sitting behind him, brushing his hair, though she hadn’t yet asked him to sing. “Your birthday is coming up, my dear. What would you like?”

This is it, don’t act suspicious. “Paint? From those white seashells near the Great Lake?”

“That’s a long trip Sirius, near three days one way.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “It makes a clear colour, though, one I can’t get anywhere else.”

Walburga sighed. “Fine. If it will make you happy, I will get the white seashells.” She didn’t sound too pleased about it, but she agreed, and that was what was important. “Sing for me, my sweet?”

Sirius started to sing, trying to make his voice even to not give anything away. When he was done, Walburga looked healthier, her cheeks were flushed and there were less wrinkles around her eyes. He wondered how old she really was.

Sirius waved goodbye to her like always, trying not to show his excitement. He’d packed as much as he could beforehand, but there were some items Walburga would have noticed were missing. He bounced around the room, gathering food, too distracted to hear the tell-tale sounds that meant someone was climbing the tower.

He startled violently when he heard something heavy thud behind him, making a pan fall to the floor and nearly crush his toes. He picked it up and spun around, gripping the handle with whitened knuckles.

It was a person. A person who wasn’t Walburga. Face down on his floor. Sirius cautiously walked towards him-- at least they looked like how Sirius imagined another ‘him’ would look-- and poked the man’s arm with his foot. When he looked up, Sirius jumped back with a squeak, holding the pan in front of him like a weapon.

They had messy dark hair, glasses that were bigger and rounder than what Walburga wore, and a smile that made Sirius’s heart thump loudly in his chest. Or maybe that was the panic. He didn’t get up from the floor, just propped his head up with one arm, the other lying nonchalantly across his satchel. “So it’s a person up here. Huh.”

Sirius swallowed, and tried to sound strong when he said, “What are you doing here?”

The man shrugged. “I saw a tower in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and wanted to investigate. I’m James, by the way.”

“Sirius.” It was only after he’d responded that he thought maybe he shouldn’t have given his name. If even a quarter of what Walburga told him was true…

“Like the star?” James asked, sounding innocently curious.

He nodded.

“That would explain the white hair, at least,” James said, but he was quiet enough that Sirius guessed he said it for his own benefit.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius repeated.

James raised an eyebrow. “I already told you.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him. “No one else has seen this tower and decided to climb up. So what. Are. You. Doing. Here.”

James’s smile finally dropped, but it didn’t make Sirius feel any better. It took another twenty minutes-- twenty precious minutes that Sirius should have been using to escape-- for James to admit that he’d stolen a crown from the royal family. He was standing by that point, and had shrugged when Sirius asked why. “They have more than enough money to replace it, it’s not hurting anyone, and it’s helping me. What’s wrong with that?”

“It- it’s stealing.” Of course Sirius had stolen it from him for leverage when he turned his back, but did it count as a crime to steal a stolen item from a thief?

James rolled his eyes. “You won’t get me to feel bad about stealing from the richest people in the city, Sirius.”

Sirius chewed on his lip as he thought. James seemed very self-sufficient, and Sirius wasn’t in a hurry to leave the tower to die. He also didn’t want to partner with a criminal, but. “Do you… do that often?”

“Not feel bad? All the time.” He grinned at Sirius, unbothered when Sirius didn’t return it.

“Steal.”

“No,” James said, honest as far as Sirius could tell.

Sirius straightened, projecting confidence. “Alright. Take me with you, and I’ll give you back your satchel.” The one with the crown, that is, Sirius had left his other one alone.

“What?” James looked around frantically, eyes resting where the satchel had once lain. He looked back at Sirius, a strange look on his face. “When did you take it?”

Sirius glared at him. “Yes or no, James.”

“Why do you want to come with me? You clearly think I’m a tosser.” When Sirius didn’t say anything, just continued to glare, James held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, you can come with me.” He held out his hand for his satchel, but Sirius breezed past him.

“You’ll get it back when you’ve kept your end of the deal. What? Don’t you trust me?”

A smile slowly made its way across his face, and it struck Sirius that this was probably the first real smile he’d seen from James.

~~~

“Why do you keep your hair so long?” James asked one day. They had long since become friends, the crown traded a week after they set out from the tower (though James insisted it was sold not traded).

Sirius blinked. It had never occurred to him that he could cut it, and he said so.

“...You didn’t know you could cut your hair,” James repeated slowly.

“I grew up completely isolated. If Walburga didn’t do it, I don’t know about it. She never talked about cutting my hair. I think she liked it long because it was easier to access magically.”

“She’s a strange one, your mother,” he agreed, but there was something in his face that Sirius couldn’t identify. “Do you like your hair this long? Remus cuts Lily’s hair, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Sirius brought his braid in front of him and ran his fingers over the complex weave. “I think I like it like this. Walburga did a few things I wasn’t fond of, but. I don’t think this is one of them.”

James shrugged and put an arm around his shoulders. “Okay.” He kissed Sirius’s cheek, causing a full body flush, but he didn’t act as if he knew. “The hair stays.”

~~~

Months later, Sirius was happier than he knew he could be. He and James were together, although that had taken more than a few explanations before anything happened. He had been right when he said he would give up cleanliness for freedom. Sure, his white hair had dirt in it more often than not, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t worry about Walburga finding him and forcing him back because it had been so long that he-- foolishly-- thought it wouldn’t happen.

He was along the outskirts of Hogsmeade when it happened. Walburga threw him against a wall with her magic, her face twisted with anger as she stalked up to him.

Sirius scrabbled at the hand she had placed around his throat, but it didn’t affect her.

“You’re mine,” she spat. “I made you, inside and out, and you cannot leave me for some filthy gutter rat.”

“Sirius?” Shit. James.

“No,” he choked out, panicking when Walburga let go of him to turn towards James. Sirius distantly noticed that she looked older than she ever had before, but then all he could see was her stabbing James.

The only reason he knows he screamed is because it tore through his already damaged throat. Maybe it was the fear, more probably it was the tears, but the rest of the ordeal passed in a blur. He remembered begging Walburga to let him heal James and in exchange he’d go with her, remembered kneeling next to him while he bled, promising that it would be okay.

He definitely remembered the way James had smiled sadly, then gripped the base of Sirius’s braid and cut before Sirius could heal him.

Walburga was barely a blip on his radar even though she screamed and sort of, well, disintegrated.

“You idiot,” he said, eyes wide. “You bloody idiot.”

James gave him a half smile. “Well I am bloody. Sorry about your hair; I know you liked it long.” Clumsily, he raised a hand and twisted his finger through a strand of Sirius’s hair, which was now loose and hanging around his face. “It looks better black.”

“I don’t care! You were going to be okay and now, because you’re an imbecile-”

“-Now you’ll be just fine without me because you’ll have Remus and Peter and Lily.” James moved his hand from Sirius’s hair to his face and started to rub at his cheek.

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me? I don’t need Remus an--” he stopped when he heard James gasp. His wound was glowing with a very familiar white light.

“...So apparently you have magic tears since your hair retired.”

“You don’t get to say shite for the next three years after what you just did.”

“What? Come on, I’m alive, you’re here, and she’s- dead or summat, shouldn’t I get points for that?”

Sirius glared at him and slapped a hand over his mouth. “No.” But because Sirius was unspeakably happy that he was alive, he removed his hand and kissed him. “Don’t do that again.”

#filled #prongsfoot #marauders #james potter #sirius black #walburga black #fusion #getting together #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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garlique · 8 years ago

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untitled drakonallagi story: chapter 1

When Maja woke up that morning, it was to heavy chains being wrapped around her arms and chest.

Wait, no. Her wings and chest.

Ah, shit.

"Good morning, Majari!" a cheerful voice enthused. "Certainly took you long enough to wake up. Apparently, it is six months before a solar eclipse somewhere! Our alarm sounded, thank goodness, or it could have taken us much longer to find you." The chains pulled tight across Maja's still prone body, cutting into her skin. She writhed pathetically under her bindings. "Oops! Now, don't wiggle too much, or I will have to fully bind you, or even take you into protective custody!'

"Who are you?" Maja growled. Her voice was rusty and thick from the transformation, and she coughed painfully before continuing. A small burst of fire puffed from her scaly lips. "What are you doing in my house?" She flexed experimentally. "With copper chains!"

The person hopped into view. "Enforcer 45, at your service! I've been specially trained to handle drakonallagis, and as this'll be your first eclipse, Council thought it would be safe to send someone who knew what they were doing. Even if I’ve… never actually seen a drakonallagi before. As for the copper chains, everyone knows drakonallages are weak to copper. Again, just an extra protective measure."

Maja tried her best to shrink into herself and look nonthreatening. "Well, now that you can see that I'm clearly in my human brain right now, would you mind... unchaining me? I'd be happy to go over my plan for this next year with you over a cup of coffee."

Enforcer 45 laughed tinklingly. "We can't make a habit of it, but I suppose it was rather rude of me to chain you up while you were still asleep. One moment." The enforcer vanished for a split second and the chains on Maja's bed sprang back.

Maja rolled onto her front, tucking her legs under her, and stretched her huge leathery wings up to the ceiling. She emitted a groan that was half a roar as she stretched, and Enforcer 45 laughed again, a bit uncomfortable. Maja shuffled carefully sideways until her clawed feet could touch the floor, then stood on all four legs and stretched again. Her wings crumpled against the ceiling.

Enforcer 45 let out another shrill laugh. "Well, I know I would appreciate it if you could attempt to get-"she waved a hand expressively "-this under control before we spoke. I'll leave you alone for a moment to arrange yourself." With a final piercing giggle, Enforcer 45 scurried out of the room, a spotted tail quivering behind her as she went.

Maja rolled her head around on a long snaky neck, then shut her eyes and visualized her human form. She mentally traced up and down her body, focusing on how it felt to be that shape, and within moments she felt the change taking over her.

Her bones cracked as her entire skeleton rearranged itself and Maja clamped her jaws shut around an agonized shriek. All her drakonic flesh crammed itself into a package a third of its size. Maja's teeth shrank and ground together, and she felt a chip fly off and down her throat. She bit her own tongue to keep from yowling as she felt her hair pushing out of her scalp and her claws sink back into neatly painted nails. No more than a minute later, Maja stood naked and shivering in the middle of her room.

As she turned to her dresser to find suitable clothes, something brushed against the floor behind her and she whipped around, brandishing clipped nails like hooked claws. Maja glimpsed herself in the mirror and sighed. "Really. Wings?" she asked petulantly. She concentrated on the wings dangling behind her and imagined them shrinking back into her body, folding along the inside of her back, resting until she called them forth again.

Her wings shivered but made no move to disappear. Huffing, she pulled a long white cloth out of her drawers and wrapped it around her chest. Her crude shirt covered her midsection while leaving room for her wings to rest free. Maja pulled a pair of relatively clean sweatpants out of a different drawer, pulled them on, and then joined Enforcer 45 in the living room.

"Couldn't quite get rid of it all, huh? Involuntary transformation can be a bitch sometimes."

The enforcer laughed again and it grated on Maja's ears. Her wings shuddered, flaring momentarily and Enforcer 45 took a step back, anxiety drowning her features.

Maja chuckled, a deep growly thing. "Yeah, it's been kind of hard for me to control my transformations, especially considering the restrictions on my kind." She glared at Enforcer 45. "As long as I have you here, would you care for some coffee?" Enforcer 45 nodded shakily and Maja walked across to the kitchen, swaying her wings intentionally as she walked. Enforcer 45 followed her and sat down at Maja’s rickety table. Maja scooped grounds into a French press and started the water boiling. "It's gonna be a minute." The two waited in silence until the water boiled, and Maja poured it into the press. Only then did she sit down at the table and pull out her phone.

"Oh! I'm gonna request you not use your phone right now, just a safety precaution, wouldn't want you calling someone of an unsavory sort!" the enforcer bubbled.

Maja showed Enforcer 45 her phone screen. "I'm setting a timer for the coffee. I don't like mine super strong."

"Oh." Enforcer 45 giggled. "Well, that's okay then."

"So, why is my involuntary transformation happening now? I've been keeping an eye on solar eclipses in the area, the next one's not due to come to San Francisco until 2023. I've been keeping an eye on these things, you know." Maja forced another laugh. "Kinda have to."

"Ah. Yes. You're quite right, the next solar eclipse visible in San Francisco isn't until 2023. However, your susceptibility to eclipses isn't due to where you are currently in the world,"Enforcer 45 informed her.

Maja snarled angrily and slammed her claws down into the tabletop, creating a fresh set of grooves. Enforcer 45 jumped backward and her tail bushed out in fright. "Ms - Ms Majari, if you could attempt to attain your human form again, we can continue our conversation!"

Maja stared at her hand and the yellowed claws sprouting from her fingers. They looked like a cheap costume, and Maja was struck with the sudden desire to reach over and pull them out of her hand. A line of scales rippled across her hand, glinting in the sun and Maja pulled back. She concentrated on her hand again, and this time the claws began to shrink down into her nails. She grunted in pain.

Enforcer 45 cleared her throat. "Could you deal with the teeth too?" she asked in a small voice.

Maja ran her tongue across her teeth. She bared her teeth at Enforcer 45. "What, you mean these? These are just my normal human teeth."

Enforcer 45's hand drifted to her hip. "Majari, if you can't steadily hold a human form, I am going to have to take you into protective custody, for your sake and the sake of those around you."

"Wow, someone can't take a joke, can they?" When Maja opened her mouth again, her teeth certainly seemed more human. "Better?"

Before Enforcer 45 could answer, Maja's timer went off on her phone and she spun around to check on the coffee. As she poured two mugs of coffee, her wings extended toward Enforcer 45. One delicate claw stroked the bridge of her nose. "Majari!" the enforcer snapped. "Control yourself!"

Maja slowly slid her drink to her. "Sorry," she drawled. "Sometimes it's just so hard." Maja shook cinnamon and sugar into her coffee. "You don't mind if I take this with pepper, do you? I find foods are more palatable when they're spicy." She grinned, and her teeth might have been a tiny bit sharper than was strictly normal.

"Take your coffee how you like." Enforcer 45 sipped her coffee black. "Back to the subject at hand. Where were you born, Majari?"

Majari tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, jeez, that was a while ago. Seventy years? How long have I lived here?"

Enforcer 45 tapped the screen of her tablet. "We've had you on our records for... thirty years." She stared at Maja for a hard second. "You look eighteen."

"Drakonallages apparently age slower than most people. I've heard the same thing happens to chelonallages. Maybe we should form a support group." She spread her hands above her head. "So you've outlived everyone you know - now what?"

"Majari. Tell me where you were born, or I will take you down into custody," Enforcer 45 threatened.

"Ooh, guess we aren't fucking around anymore. Well, I was born in Kolkata, and I lived there until I hit puberty and my... drakonallagism started to manifest. Then my parents sent me off to Bangalore with a nanny, then they sent me to Europe with money when I turned 18. A little humiliating, but they're close to dead now, if not already, so I feel like I have to forgive them." Maja gazed steadily at her coffee.

"That makes sense." Enforcer 45 tapped her tablet, then stowed it in a bag at her waist. "India is going to be experiencing a total solar eclipse on December eleventh this year. That's what's affecting you."

"Well, great. Now we know why I'm gonna be fucked up for the next year. What's the Council gonna make me do about it is the real question."

Enforcer 45 smiled thinly. "We would like you to keep as much of your normal life as possible, obviously. We do understand that that's going to be a little hard, so we're providing you with a salary for the year, in case you find it difficult to work. We'll also have you know the Council has facilities all over the world built to house and contain allages who feel they are unsafe. Of course, you have to understand that our highest priority is the greatest safety for the greatest number of people. Perhaps you could live outside of the city for a while? There isn't much room in here for a plan in case something happens."

"Is there anything that you need me to absolutely do right now?" Maja asked.

Enforcer 45 scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. "This is a prescription for some, ah, suppressants. We aren't very sure how they're gonna work on drakonallages, because we haven’t been very able to run clinical tests, but isn't it always better to have something than to have nothing?"

Maja surveyed the paper with a disdainful eye. "I'll keep this in mind. Now, if there's nothing else pressing, I have things I want to do with my Sunday. You - obviously - know where to find me if you need to."

Enforcer 45 downed the rest of her coffee. "That we do, Majari. It's been lovely talking with you, I encourage you to stop by the Council offices sometime, I'm sure they'd love some blood work on you."

Maja blinked. "What, and you don't have other willing drakonallages at your beck and call?" she asked.

Enforcer 45 shook her head. "The only other drakonallagi in the world is so old we don’t even know if they exist anymore. If they do, they're off living on a different continent. And they certainly aren't willing to fly across the ocean for testing."

Maja was taken aback. "Are we really that rare?" she inquired incredulously.

"Most drakonallages don't really... reproduce. I'm not sure why this is so shocking to you."

"Yeah, well... most of the literature out there on my kind treats us like we're a myth. Not very much scientific evidence out there for us. Let me show you the door."

Enforcer 45 stepped into the hallway outside Maja's apartment. "Thank you for letting me talk with you - again, I encourage you to drop by Council offices if you have a free moment."

"I'll consider it. Good day, Enforcer 45." Maja shut the door, then opened it again as Enforcer 45 walked away. "And nothing's going to happen!"

#it's um a little long but here it is!!! chapter 1!!!!! all the exposition #i know that if i look at this tomorrow im gonna rewrite half of it which is WHY im putting it somewhere mostly permanent tonight

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shawneekansashomesforsale · 7 years ago

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Secrets to Selling Your Shawnee KS Home in a Week or Less

So you want to sell your home, and you want to sell it fast. But the problem is you aren’t sure if it’s even possible to find a buyer for your property in as little as a week--or even less.

Actually, it is possible—you just need to know the secrets to making it happen.

Your decision to sell probably comes from a new job, the need to make a future move or just the desire to have a change of scenery. Or perhaps, you still love your home but you just feel like it doesn’t suit you anymore, so you’re moving out. Whatever your reason is for selling your home, there is certainly a way to sell your property in a week even in a slower market.

Keep reading to know the tips for selling your home in a week or less.

Yes, you can sell your home in a week and for the most money.

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Selling your home for the highest price in a week or less is a tough thing to do.

If you don’t get the right agent to assist you, your property might end up lingering on the market for weeks, let alone months.

In this article, I will share with you some secrets that can help you sell your Shawnee KS home in a week and for top dollar. Follow these tips and you’ll be surprised how your hard work gets you exactly what you want at the end of the day.

TIP # 1: PACK YOUR STUFF

If you want to sell your home quickly, the first thing you need to do is to pack up as many of your things as you can. Half of all your stuff sounds like a lot, but you’ll pack up soon anyway so why not do it now?

You’re probably thinking—how can packing help sell my home in a week? Well, emptying out your home will make it look more spacious. As a home seller, you need to be ready anytime a prospective buyer visits your home, so make sure you have already depersonalized it before your first visitor comes.

Since packing up can be overwhelming, you can use the following tips to make this task as organized as possible:

Work on the Walls

As you pack up, start working on the walls by taking down the pictures. You don’t necessarily have to take down everything—leave a few here and there for staging purposes. If you have 20 picture frames in your living room, you can leave three of them hanging to decorate the walls and pack up the rest.

Remove Clunky Furniture

After packing up, simplify your furniture by getting rid of all the extras. For example, you can take out all the extra chairs in the corners, extra dressers and other fillers in your home and just leave out all the basic furniture in each room.

Emptying out some of your extra furniture will help make the rooms of your home look more spacious and less lived in. This will also help your prospective buyers walk around your home more easily when they pay a visit.

Declutter Closets and Cabinets

You might ask, isn’t it too early to declutter? Well, decluttering is indeed a lot of work, but it’s something you’ll eventually do anyway. If you pack ahead of time, you’ll give yourself a jumpstart on the work you would have to do after selling your home.

When prospective buyers inspect a home, they usually open all the cabinets and closets that they see. As the owner of the home, you wouldn’t want your prospective buyer to see all your cabinets stuffed with clutter, so get rid of that junk and make your closets and cabinets look less chaotic.

Here are 3 basic tips for decluttering your closet:

• Make time for it. Treat decluttering as a project and choose a reasonable time to do it. Complete your project on a day where you have more than enough time to do the work.

• Categorize your clothes. Identify which of the clothes in your closet you will keep, donate or throw away. Use a hanger system for all the clothes you wear on a regular basis and determine which among the folded ones you are ready to dispose of in the next couple of months.

• Store clothes you are not using this season. Divide your “keep” clothes into seasons and whichever you’re not wearing at the moment, store in a bin or garment bag. This way, you will be able to free up more room in your closet and prospective home buyers will think that your closet is spacious.

TIP # 2: DO THE NECESSARY FIXES

Making manageable updates on your home will help you sell it more quickly. You don’t necessarily have to spend a lot on these upgrades—you can do these upgrades on little things in your home that you have been meaning to fix for quite some time now but you haven’t been able to. Since you are selling your home now and want to sell it quickly, it’s about time to make these aesthetic updates. See what difference they can make.

Here are some ways to make easy, manageable updates on your home:

Replace Outdated Items with New Ones

If you want your home to attract more prospective buyers, make it look more modern by replacing some of the things in it that already look dilapidated. These things can include old light fixtures or an old kitchen table. Take a look around you and decide what simple changes you can do to boost your home’s overall appeal.

Give It a Fresh Coat of Paint

The last thing home buyers would ever want to do is to buy a home that needs a lot of work. If you want a prospective buyer to get carried away as soon as he makes his first step into your home, make your walls look as perfect as possible by repainting them. Giving your home a fresh coat of paint will not only make it look fresh. Remember, homebuyers love a home that’s neat and new.

In 2017, Zillow analyzed 32,000 listing photos of homes that have been sold in the U.S. and they found that certain colors actually worked better than the rest. Here are Zillow’s findings on which colors to use and avoid:

• Kitchen

👍 Blue (light blue to soft gray blue)- Home sold for $1,809 more on average

👎 Yellow (straw yellow to marigold)- Home sold for $820 less on average

• Bathroom

👍 Blue/Purple (light powder blue to periwinkle)- Home sold for $5,440 more on average

👎 White/No Color (off white or egg shell white)- Home sold for $4,035 less on average

• Bedroom

👍 Blue (light cerulean to cadet blue)- Home sold for $1,856 more on average

👎 Pink (light pink to antique rose)- home sold for $288 less on average

• Dining Room

👍 Blue (sate blue to pale gray blue)- Home sold for $1,926 more on average

👎 Red (brick red, terracotta or copper red)- home sold for $2,031 less on average

• Living Room

👍 Brown (light beige, pale taupe, oatmeal)- Home sold for $1,809 more on average

👎 Blue (pastel gray, pale silver to light blue, periwinkle)- Home sold for $820 less on average

• Home Exterior

👍 Gray/Brown (greige—mix of grey and beige)- home sold for $1,526 more on average

👎 Brown (medium brown, taupe or stucco)- home sold for $1,970 less on average

Do Some Easy Maintenance

As you pack up, you leave more space inside your home exposed. As you take photos off the wall, the wall becomes bare and you might notice lots of nail holes on it. Since such holes are not visually pleasing, you have to do something to make your walls look nicer. You can do this by filling all those nail holes and repainting them.

Upgrade your Pantry

One of the small upgrades that you can make without going crazy is the pantry. You can turn this quick and easy upgrade into a weekend project, where you replace its old, dingy curtains with French doors to make it look new.

TIP # 3: STAGE YOUR HOME

When it comes to selling a home, the prospective homebuyer’s first impression is a crucial factor. While some home sellers think that staging a home is not as important as the other steps in preparing a home for sale, staging a home is actually one of the secrets to selling a home quickly. It plays a critical role in your marketing efforts so you shouldn’t take it too lightly. Home staging does not only make prospective homebuyers feel that your space is livable—it also makes them want to buy your property as soon as possible.

Here are some home staging facts you probably didn’t know:

• Most buyers offer more money—around 1% to 5% more-- for a home that is staged over a similar home that is not staged.

• 81% of buyers find it easier to visualize a staged property as their future home.

• A research conducted by Coldwell Banker Real Estate Corp. found that compared with non-staged homes, staged homes spend half the time on the market before they get sold. According to the National Association of Realtors (NAR), the longer a home stays on the market, the more its price drops.

• A survey conducted by Coldwell Banker Real Estate Corp. found that staged homes sell for more than 6% above the asking price.

Home staging helps you highlight your home’s strengths and downplay its weaknesses. Here are some tips for staging your home without burning a hole in your pocket:

Light It Up

For most homebuyers, lighting is everything. That is why when staging your home, the first thing you need to do is to make it shine. You can do this by taking your thick, dark curtains off your windows to let as much natural light in as possible.

Usually, the darkest parts of a home are the laundry room and kitchen. If those two rooms in your room have dim lighting, replace them with brighter bulbs. That may sound like a less important thing to do, but it actually makes a huge difference. Home staging expert Herline Goutama of “Let’s Stage It!” advises that every home should have at least three sources of light to look visually appealing.

“The key is to create subtle variances of light levels, which accentuate surfaces and make the room feel more spacious.” –Herline Goutama

Rearrange Your Furniture

Once you have already improved your home’s lighting, the next thing to do is to arrange and rearrange your furniture. Make sure that your home has enough space to allow people to walk freely so when prospective buyers visit your property, they won’t feel stuck or trip on poorly positioned furniture. You can also add some greens and flowers to your windowsill and get creative with your walls. Plants are crowd pleasers and they help boost the overall appeal of your home. Lastly, look around you and make sure to take out all the personal photos and other stuff that might make your prospective buyer feel that the home is not for them.

Use White Linens

Did you know that you can actually achieve that spa-like atmosphere inside your home without breaking the bank? If you have white linens in your closet, you can take your master bathroom and bedroom to the next level by using those. Transform your master bathroom into a luxury spa by putting thick white towels and shower curtains on display. You can also roll some bath towels and hand towels and place them on the tub and near the sink to add a pleasant hotel look.

Set Up Your Yards for Staging

When it comes to staging your home, treat the exterior as important as the indoor. The outside of your home is important to stage too, because it is what prospective buyers see first before they even enter your home. What they see from the outside might create a strong lasting impression on them so you have to make an effort to improve its overall appeal as well.

Here are some tips for staging the exterior of your home:

1. Clean up your flower gardens.

2. Make your home look inviting by setting up chairs up on your deck.

3. Clean up your porch.

4. Clean up the flowerbeds and put some solar garden lights in your front yard to allow for nighttime showings.

5. Put down a colorful carpet and display some vibrant colored pillows in your sunroom to accentuate the colors that you have.

Remove all Traces of Your Dog

It doesn’t matter if your dog is clean and doesn’t shed—when staging your home, hide all evidence of your pet. If you want to make a good first impression on prospective buyers, hide the toy bones, dog bed and everything that they can associate with animals.

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TIP # 4: CLEAN, CLEAN, CLEAN

All the efforts you make to decorate your home will become useless if you don’t make everything inside and outside your home sparkle. If you want to sell your home quickly, make sure that everything is clean—from the windows, furniture, the bathrooms, down to your yard. What creates the most impression on prospective buyers is the neatness and cleanliness of your home, so making sure everything inside and outside your home is sparkling clean is the way to go.

Consider these quick cleanup tips to get your home ready for spur-of-the-moment visits of potential buyers:

1. Wipe Away. Since the toilet and kitchen are usually two of the sloppiest areas of a home, you can start your cleanup there. If you want to quick-clean these areas, use disposable wipes to wipe away the visible dirt.

2. Use a Scented Cleaner for Your Toilet Bowls. One of the biggest hacks to making something look clean is making it smell great. If you don’t have much time to clean your bathroom, you can just put a small amount of your favorite scented cleaner in your toilet bowl and voila! Your bathroom is ready for unexpected visitors.

3. Use a Tile Spray Cleaner for the Walls. Each time you shower, make it a habit to use a tub and tile spray cleaner and turn on the hot water for a few minutes. This way, you are able to loosen the dirt and grime lurking in the corners of your bathroom without putting much effort and your walls stay clean even without extra cleaning.

4. Make Sure Your Cleaning Materials are Always Ready. Making sure that you are ready for visitors means always getting your cleaning materials ready. Always keep a bucket of your cleaning materials on each floor of your home so when prospective buyers arrive, you no longer have to go up and down the stairs to search for them.

5. Clean as You Go. One of the best ways to get yourself ready for prospective buyers’ surprise visits is to always clean as you go. When you make it a habit to wipe up spills as they happen, you make quick cleanups less of a chore for you.

TIP # 5: FIND A REALTOR YOU CAN TRUST

You can never underestimate the value of a great realtor when it comes to selling a home. If there is someone who understands the real estate business better than you, that’s your real estate agent. With her help, you will be able to price your home right and sell your home quickly. She may also let you visit open houses in your neighborhood to see your competition and find ways to make your home stand out.

7 Benefits of Using a Real Estate Agent:

1. She will list your house at the right price.

Because real estate agents understand the market better than you do, you can be sure that she will be able to list your house at the right price. Compared with listing the property yourself, this benefits you more. While there are other means to get a home estimate online, those methods are rarely accurate.

2. She will ensure that your presentations go smoothly.

Home presentations are key to selling a home fast nowadays. With a real estate agent to assist you, you will be able to make sure that your presentations go smoothly when prospective buyers check out your home. Agents have tons of experience in staging homes so you will never go wrong with one around to assist you.

3. She will give you more buyer exposure.

When buyers look for properties to purchase, they often get in touch with real estate agents to help them find homes that are currently listed on the market. Since buyers usually look at homes that are listed by an agent, having an agent to assist you will work to your advantage as this will help your home get more showings and offers. Agents have contacts with buyers, so when you list with an agent, you also give yourself access to buyers who are shopping for homes with their own agents.

4. She will dramatically impact the offers you receive from buyers.

Working with an agent when selling your home increases your chances of getting higher offers for your home. An agent does not only make sure that your home is seen by as many buyers as possible, she also ensures that all the aspects of the home buying process are handled in a professional manner. As a result, higher offers for your home come in.

5. She negotiates inspection results.

Inspections are crucial in the sale of a home. If you have a real estate agent to assist you, you can trust that you have someone to handle this aspect of the sale and give you expert advice.

6. She helps speed up the entire home selling process.

While it usually takes time to sell a home, having a real estate agent helps speed up the process significantly. Since home selling involves tons of paperwork, it helps a lot to hire an agent to take care of all the paperwork in every step of the process.

7. She sells your home for more money.

When you list with an agent, you can be sure that you will be able to sell your home for more than when you do it by yourself.

THE BOTTOM LINE

When selling your home, believe that your efforts will pay off. By following these tips, you will be able to set your home apart from the other homes on the market and sell it in a week or less. Doing these things will not only speed up the entire selling process but will also get you the best price in the least possible time.

If you need an agent to help you sell your home, call me, Lea Deo, at 913-233-9547. As your top real estate agent in Shawnee KS, I will take care of all the home selling details and issues on your behalf and before you know it, I have already sold your home!

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In case you cannot view this video here, please click the link below to view Secrets to Selling Your Shawnee KS Home in a Week or Less on my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1vVTs94bWU&feature=youtu.be

#SellYourShawneeKSHomeFast #HomesForSaleInShawneeKS #LeaDeo

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