#keep seeing reels of them saying they want to ‘break the cycle’ by marrying a white or Bosnian(?) woman

[thursdayg1rl]

brown men are crazy I don’t even know what to say..

[ukcyo]

sehnsucht.

❦ summary ; as all of you wait to reach your destination, reiner and you are entangled in each other’s arms. there isn't any other place you'd feel at home than here, lying next to him.

➳ pairing ; reiner braun x reader

➳ genre ; angst, hurt/comfort, tinge of fluff

➳ warnings ; spoilers for chapter 129 and beyond, mentions of death

Slumber was meant for serenity and comfort, a brief escape from the disappointing (in your case—devastating) fact that was reality. Yet, this world remains as cruel and sadistic as ever, placing you into the realm of nightmares in order to prohibit you from even enjoying an ounce of rest.

Seeing the sea painted red, millions of lifeless bodies floating aimlessly, was enough to blast you awake.

Cold sweat overtakes you as your chest heaves rapidly, the horror of what you saw still vividly fresh in your mind. It makes you reel, eyes moving frantically as you remain unaware if this was reality or not, your heart pounding so hard it was as if it was going to explode.

But as soon as your eyes land on the man lying next to you, arm protectively wrapped around your waist, your body immediately relaxes.

Reiner’s eyes are shut close, his lips slightly parted as small huffs of breath consistently escape from between them. His expression was peaceful, which was something that greatly contrasted the sorrow and desolation that was frequent on his features from the moment you finally saw him after four years. You can’t help but feel a bit of joy and relief at noticing this, for it had been a while since you’ve seen him so serene and calm, as if the arduousness of life had failed to penetrate him. Seeing him like this was enough to tell you that what you saw was just a nightmare.

Seconds later, however, he begins to stir, eyes slowly opening to reveal their gleaming hazel color. You must have woken him up due to your rustling.

Reiner’s eyes immediately fall onto you, haziness still deeply laced into them due to the fact that he was still half-asleep. Your heart leaps when you feel his hand softly rub circles into your waist, the gesture bringing great comfort to you. Instinctively, you turn your body towards him, wanting to feel this as long as possible. His warmth and affection was the only thing keeping you together at the moment. It was the only thing preventing you from thinking just how plausible your nightmare was.

Yet, as soon as you do this, Reiner’s hands gently clutch your cheeks, tilting your head upwards. His eyebrows are furrowed in immense concern, the sleepiness present in his eyes now all gone.

“What’s wrong? You’re shaking...”

Curse his perceptiveness. 

And curse you for not noticing that you were still deeply bothered.

“I...It’s nothing,” you reassure quietly, hoping to everything that your voice doesn’t betray you. You close your eyes as you rest the weight of your face on the hands that continued to caress your cheeks, focusing on completely calming yourself by the utter warmth and care emitted by them. Reiner’s hands were calloused and rigid, most likely stemming from all the strain and battles they were subjugated to. But despite that, they managed to make you feel like you are right where you belong.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you followed up, guilty over your actions. He was probably really tired and that brief sleep would have helped him a lot, “I know how exhausted and worn out you are.”

He feels a pang of shame from your apology. Even back then, during your training days and well into joining the Survey Corps, you had always managed to look through him like transparent glass. Despite how well Reiner acted as an older brother, carefully crafting his persona, you knew it was all an act. You knew how tired he got, how much he often wanted to break down and cry from both the hidden guilt and stress that came from the crimes in pursuit of completing their mission. And each time you noticed, you were there to comfort him. You always looked out for him, for his wellbeing, and always put his needs above yourself. Before he knew it, he was always crying to you about how tired he was, how he didn’t realize how difficult this all really was. Even if you didn’t know what he was really talking about, you never failed to listen, giving him the advice that allowed him to continue moving forward.

You were a savior, someone who always managed to give him a brief taste of solace. He grew intoxicated and soon, he wasn’t only falling in love with the way you gave him brief peace. He fell in love with your voice, the way your cheeks would rise when you threw a solid, ecstatic grin towards his way, how your eyes twinkled under the moonlight--he fell in love with you and the way you made him feel. It blinded and cursed him, because his love for you further tore him in half. And through this all, through all the conflict and inner turmoil, he never even thought of what you were going through.

And yet, four years later, during the end of the world, as both of you lay on this bed, entangled in each other’s arms, your cheeks snuggly resting against the palm of his hand, you never changed. Even after feeling the rapid rate of your heartbeat, your body shaking in fright, you still put him first. You thought about his wellbeing instead of your own.

How selfish and undeserving he was.

“[y/n] please... Please don't do that, I want you to tell me what's wrong," he pleads, tears already accumulating in his eyes, "You always think about how I feel, but you never think about your own."

You stiffen as you open your eyes to stare at Reiner in shock. Your heart sinks as you once more see guilt and self-loathe painted across his features, his staple expressions. The past four years that you shared away from each other has truly scarred and battered him in such a ghastly manner.

You clasp his hands that continue to tenderly encage your cheeks.

"I'm alright, I promise. It was just some stupid nightmare," you reassure with a tranquilizing tone. Yet, even after saying so, you can still clearly see the despondency in his expression. You can see the poison of diffidence littered all over his eyes, the tears that were still crumpled around their rims only further magnifying it.

He was suffering so much.

"You still don't believe me," you admit sadly, eyes downcast to prevent yourself from also tearing up, "Reiner, I know I already told you this but I'm much more selfish than you give me credit for. Even back then, I... A major reason onto why I was always there to comfort you was because it made me feel important, that my life was more than just constant danger. I wanted to keep that to myself, to keep you to myself. I never even once suggested you try telling the others about what you were feeling, because I wanted you to continue to look at me like I was the only light of your life. Because everytime you looked at me like that... I feel like the future is brighter than it seems to be."

His eyes widen as you bite your lip in pure, utter shame. Admitting this part of yourself burned you much more than you thought it would.

"I love you, Reiner, and I always will. That's why I always prioritize you and your feelings. That's why I could never completely hate you after you betrayed us all those years ago, no matter how much I should've," you confess breathlessly, "But to say that I do so selflessly is a lie in itself. I'm not that good of a person, and I honestly think none of us are. This cruel world makes sure of that."

You finally have the courage to look at him again, telling yourself that you'll accept the hurt and betrayed expression that will be present on his face. After all, you just shattered the idealized perception he had of you.

To your surprise, you were met with a genuinely delighted smile instead.

It was as if something heavy was lifted off of Reiner's chest after hearing you tell him all of those hidden thoughts. He feels extremely light, the exquisite taste of euphoria that he hasn't felt in such a while being so vividly present on his tongue.

You didn't love him out of pity. You love him because his presence gives you joy and satisfaction.

"Thank you. I'm... I'm so happy."

You're speechless, completely caught off guard from this unexpected reaction.

"Wh- I don't understand," you stammer, thoughts in disarray, "I just admitted to you that I-"

"You love me," Reiner reiterates with a much more cheerful tone than usual, "You love me because of who I am and how I make you feel. You don't love me because you think I need it."

You realize the reason behind his ecstatic reaction with your confession. Seeing Reiner so undeniably happy also made you feel similar sentiments, but the fact that he thought of your love in such a completely different way also planted a small seed of disappointment.

Your hand leaves his hand to caress his cheek instead, the small hairs that formed his goatee slightly tickling your palm.

"I never thought of you as a charity case," you whispered with a tone that sounded more pained than you intended, "I didn't fall in love with you because of your pain. I would hate myself if I did."

His tears finally spills over, its path down his cheeks being cut short by your hand.

If only things were different. If only they didn't turn out this way. He would've--

"I wish I married you beforehand," Reiner admits, "That way, when I end up dying from trying to save the world now, I wouldn't have any regrets. Because half of me would have continued living in you."

There it was. The toxic substance of lamentation. You felt the same, having the same thoughts over and over again for the time after learning of the truth behind the walls and what Reiner and the others had to go through. What if, if only, if only you didn't do this, what if you did that. It was a never ending cycle of pain, grief, and hurt that damaged you beyond mention. But as time passed, so did those emotions, and you found yourself accepting that the damage had been done. All you can do now is move on with the present and do better.

Reiner had never broken out of that cycle and you'd be damn to let him continue being in it.

"How do you know you will die," you question, "It's not like it's set in stone. We can still do it, we can still get married after all of this is over. All you have to do is survive. You have to fight to live as much as you can. I know I will, for you."

He gasps in surprise before his expression softens after internalizing your words. The Warrior was finding himself getting lost and intoxicated in the look of hope and adoration in your eyes, just like he did back then. You are a drug that attaches to him like glue and he will always embrace it full-heartedly.

"So let's survive for each other. Let's survive for a future we both deserve."

Reiner couldn't even bear to fathom what kind of emotions surged through him when the most heavenly smile etched across your lips after saying those words of promise. He felt like he was basking in the presence of a goddess, because it was almost impossible someone like you are real. Someone as ethereal and lovely as you can't possibly exist on this Earth. Yet here you are, hand wrapped around his cheek, saying you'll survive so you can still marry him.

"Can I kiss you," he timidly requests, voice barely above a whisper. He wanted more of your touch, your essence to envelop him whole, but a part of him still feels so unworthy of it.

A small, disbelieving chuckle escapes from you. You thought he would never ask.

"Please."

In an instant, Reiner guides your head closer to his until his lips finally meets yours. His lips were still as soft as they were four years ago, the sweetness and elation they provided you filled up the crevices of your soul. There was nothing on this earth that can defeat the way Reiner's lips felt against yours. There was no force that can match the passion and fervor that was present in the way his lips moved against yours, the action itself telling you just how vast his love for you was.

As exhilarating kissing Reiner was, you were more ecstatic over what this kiss meant to both of you. It was his promise, his promise to you that he will do his best to survive. The way that both of you are in a current liplock, joined as one, demonstrated his vow to make it out of this alive in order to join both of your lives together in marriage.

You wish this would never end.

You wish time wasn't so inevitable.

Reiner slowly parts from you after a while, his eyes looking at each and every feature on your face. He engraves the way you look right now in his mind, the memory of it already being one of his most treasured.

His thumb gently scrapes away at your cheekbones, as if to take something away. You didn't realize that you were crying.

"I will love you even after death. But you're right, I don't have to die so soon," Reiner confesses with sincerity, before returning to wrap his arms around your form once more. He flushes you against his chest as he places a loving kiss on the top of your head.

"I promise you. We'll both survive."

hellooo !! this is my very fic/ one-shot made on this site :'^ i hope you enjoy it as much as it was both fun and hurt to write lol

i'm still trying to navigate through tumblr and how to use it so i hope you bear with me !! thank you once again <33

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the January 2021 Edition

Tumblr’s gif search leaves a lot to be desired, so there’s no actual gif of her slamming the book shut, which is—y’know, disappointing. Still, the continued ability of the public library system to send books to my Kindle ensures that I continue to read every romantic comedy and fantasy story I can find. Of which I have plenty of thoughts and opinions. But, like, what’s the point of having thoughts and opinions if you’re not putting them on the internet? There isn’t one, obviously. Books and links and feelings and more ridiculous headlines all under the cut. 

BEST BOOK AWARD WINNER OF A VERY WEIRD JANUARY THAT HELPED DISTRACT FROM A VERY WEIRD JANUARY

The Wrath & the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh Every dawn brings horror to a different family in a land ruled by a killer. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, takes a new bride each night only to have her executed at sunrise. So it is a suspicious surprise when sixteen-year-old Shahrzad volunteers to marry Khalid. But she does so with a clever plan to stay alive and exact revenge on the Caliph for the murder of her best friend and countless other girls. Shazi’s wit and will, indeed, get her through to the dawn that no others have seen, but with a catch . . . she’s falling in love with the very boy who killed her dearest friend. She discovers that the murderous boy-king is not all that he seems and neither are the deaths of so many girls. Shazi is determined to uncover the reason for the murders and to break the cycle once and for all.

This was so good?!?! I finished the first book and them immediately started the sequel, like no break whatsoever?!! I wish they weren’t teenagers?!! But seriously I wish they hadn’t been teenagers. Like, I get it. It’s YA. That probably sells better, something about markets that I don’t understand. I don’t care. It was weird that they were teenagers. Also, some of the plot points just kind of...happened? And I’m not entirely sure they were ever resolved. (Although there are a bunch of short stories, so. Maybe I just haven’t gotten there yet.) Despite that, the writing was gorgeous, I remain as prone to swooning over sad boys patent pending as I was when I was sixteen and Shahrzad was a fantastic heroine. Nine out of ten (would have been ten if they weren’t teenagers) and have already put holds on other books Ahdieh has written. 

OBLIGATORY RAGE-INDUCING ROM-COM

Head Over Heads by  Hannah Orenstein The past seven years have been hard on Avery Abrams: After training her entire life to make the Olympic gymnastics team, a disastrous performance ended her athletic career for good. Her best friend and teammate, Jasmine, went on to become an Olympic champion, then committed the ultimate betrayal by marrying their emotionally abusive coach, Dimitri. Now, reeling from a breakup with her football star boyfriend, Avery returns to her Massachusetts hometown, where new coach Ryan asks her to help him train a promising young gymnast with Olympic aspirations. Despite her misgivings and worries about the memories it will evoke, Avery agrees. Back in the gym, she's surprised to find sparks flying with Ryan. But when a shocking scandal in the gymnastics world breaks, it has shattering effects not only for the sport but also for Avery and her old friend Jasmine.

I stopped reading it. Honestly. I got, like, 46% of the way through, kept complaining to Justin about how goddamn annoying Avery was and how no one had any personality and I wanted them all to fall off the beam and he was like—stop reading it, then? And I was like—I can do that? And then I did! Also, I understand it needed conflict, but the “shocking scandal” in the description is a sexual assault that was not only NOT my cup of tea, but felt like a massive attempt to be topical by using what happened at Michigan State without actually saying it was about Michigan state. 

PEOPLE WHO DON’T KNOW SPORTS WRITE SPORTS AND DO IT OK

Evvie Drake Starts Over by Linda Holmes In a sleepy seaside town in Maine, recently widowed Eveleth “Evvie” Drake rarely leaves her large, painfully empty house nearly a year after her husband’s death in a car crash. Everyone in town, even her best friend, Andy, thinks grief keeps her locked inside, and Evvie doesn’t correct them. Meanwhile, in New York City, Dean Tenney, former Major League pitcher and Andy’s childhood best friend, is wrestling with what miserable athletes living out their worst nightmares call the “yips”: he can’t throw straight anymore, and, even worse, he can’t figure out why. As the media storm heats up, an invitation from Andy to stay in Maine seems like the perfect chance to hit the reset button on Dean’s future. When he moves into an apartment at the back of Evvie’s house, the two make a deal: Dean won’t ask about Evvie’s late husband, and Evvie won’t ask about Dean’s baseball career. Rules, though, have a funny way of being broken—and what starts as an unexpected friendship soon turns into something more. To move forward, Evvie and Dean will have to reckon with their pasts—the friendships they’ve damaged, the secrets they’ve kept—but in life, as in baseball, there’s always a chance—up until the last out.

I am admittedly a sports snob. Writing about sports is my thing and I’m super particular about reading about it. But this sounded good and for the most part it was good. Emotional, too. Like, “jeepers, that was intense” kind of emotional. But also some of the things Dean talked about were just...not how sports work and that drives me nuts. Also another story that was, as mentioned, super emotional only to get tied up in this nice little bow. Which, cool, but also...not? Just felt rushed at the end. 

IN WHICH SHIPPING IS QUESTIONED AND I JUST LIKE BEN BARNES

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo Soldier. Summoner. Saint. Orphaned and expendable, Alina Starkov is a soldier who knows she may not survive her first trek across the Shadow Fold—a swath of unnatural darkness crawling with monsters. But when her regiment is attacked, Alina unleashes dormant magic not even she knew she possessed. Now Alina will enter a lavish world of royalty and intrigue as she trains with the Grisha, her country's magical military elite—and falls under the spell of their notorious leader, the Darkling. He believes Alina can summon a force capable of destroying the Shadow Fold and reuniting their war-ravaged country, but only if she can master her untamed gift.As the threat to the kingdom mounts and Alina unlocks the secrets of her past, she will make a dangerous discovery that could threaten all she loves and the very future of a nation. Welcome to Ravka . . . a world of science and superstition where nothing is what it seems.

I wanted to like this so much. So, so much. And sometimes I did. Sometimes I did not. At all. World building is my weakness and this has got it in spades, but the characters are kind of—boring? I couldn’t really bring myself to care about Alina and I wanted to kick Mal in the shins sometimes. The only interesting one was The Darkling who’s like the embodiment of all evil and I am not here to ship-shame anyone, but it’s kinda weird to ship him and Alina. I pictured Ben Barnes the entire time. I’m still excited for the show. I’ll read the sequel at some point, probably. 

BEING A JERK IS NOT ROMANCE, YOU’RE JUST A JERK

Would Like to Meet by Rachel Winters It's Evie Summers's job to find out. Because if she can't convince her film agency's biggest client, Ezra Chester, to write the romantic-comedy screenplay he owes producers, her career will be over. The catch? Arrogant Ezra thinks rom-coms are unrealistic—and he'll only put pen to paper if Evie proves to him that it's possible to meet a man in real life the way it happens on the big screen. Cynical Evie might not believe in happily ever after, but she'll do what it takes to save the job that's been her lifeline . . . even if it means reenacting iconic rom-com scenes in public. Spilling orange juice on a cute stranger? No problem. Leaving her number in books all over London to see who calls? Done. With a little help from her well-meaning friends and the adorable father-daughter duo who keep witnessing her humiliations, Evie is determined to show Ezra she can meet a man the way Sally met Harry. But can a workaholic who's given up on love find a meet-cute of her very own?

I love cliches. Love ‘em. Want to read about ‘em, want to write about ‘em. Here for happily ever after. Much less here for the overused and antiquated cliche of dude doesn’t believe in love like girl does, dude ridicules girl’s belief, dude was secretly in love with her the whole time. It’s super dumb. And we should stop writing it. Also really done with rom com girl can’t figure out her life! she’s overworked! she doesn’t have time for her friends! Super duper dumb. I don’t know guys, this book happened. 

FAST-PACED ROMANCE ISN’T AS WEIRD WHEN IT’S WELL WRITTEN AND THERE’S A MOOSE INVOLVED

The Tourist Attraction by Sarah Morgenthaler He had a strict "no tourists" policy...until she broke all of his rules. When Graham Barnett named his diner The Tourist Trap, he meant it as a joke. Now he's stuck slinging reindeer dogs to an endless parade of resort visitors who couldn't interest him less. Not even the sweet, enthusiastic tourist in the corner who blushes every time he looks her way...

Two weeks in Alaska isn't just the top item on Zoey Caldwell's bucket list. It's the whole bucket. One look at the mountain town of Moose Springs and she's smitten. But when an act of kindness brings Zoey into Graham's world, she may just find there's more to the grumpy local than meets the eye...and more to love in Moose Springs than just the Alaskan wilderness.

This story of Alaska marries together all the things you didn't realize you needed: a whirlwind vacation, a friendly moose, a grumpy diner owner, a quirky tourist, plenty of restaurant humor, and a happy ending that'll take you away from it all.

I’m not one for slow burn, but I also have a hard time believing romances that happen in, like, a blink. Not the case here! It was so goddamn cute! There was a moose! Graham kept calling Zoey darlin’ and it made my heart try to explode in my chest! Stars Hollow-levels of small town with lots of side characters and a good plot and a restaurant that everyone always went to! You guys know I’m trash for everyone always going to hang out in the same restaurant! I’m reading the sequel now, so that’s how much I enjoyed it. 

AMAZON BOOKS THAT CONTINUE TO BE WAY BETTER THAN THEY SHOULD BE

Elodie of the Sea by Shari L. Tapscott (part of the Eldentimber Series) Eight years have passed since the marriage tournament that decided the fate of Princess Pippa of Lauramore and strengthened alliances between the kingdoms of Elden. The competitors have moved on with their lives. Some have found adventure; some have found love. Prince Bran of Triblue, however, has put his life on hold, preparing for his father's crown. Two days before Bran's winter coronation, just when the prince cannot afford distractions, a girl washes onto the Triblue shore. She has no memory of her past life, no clue who she is or where she belongs—nothing but a ring on her finger and a peculiar marking on her cheek. And the newly crowned king has more than a mysterious girl to worry about. The sea has become unpredictable. Storms claim ships in the dead of night, and sailors return with horrifying stories of monsters from the deep. It soon becomes clear the girl and the bizarre events are connected. The girl came from the sea... and the sea wants her back. But Bran isn't willing to give her or his kingdom up without a fight, even if it means he must request help from every corner of Elden.

Listen, sometimes you have to read about a mermaid who lost her memory and the soon-to-be-king who’s, like, immediately in love with her. I mentioned Tapscott’s books in the 2020 post and the sentiment remains the same. You ever read a book that reads like fic? Lots of banter, some romance, steady pacing. That’s what her books are like. There are five in the Eldentimber series, all about a different princess in a different kingdom, but they all connect so characters pop up again and again and then they kiss. It’s real good. 

[ghostnebula]

I’ll gladly keep the asks coming 😘 Let’s have some Richie comforting hurt Eddie

I think I’m legitimately running out of ways to write this because it’s in almost every single fic I’ve written shjdshsdjkhf

I’m thinking college AU, therefore set somewhere in the 90s, but the Losers stick together through it. Which gives Eddie the opportunity to learn and grow as a person in some ways, but still -- old habits die hard, and old cycles of abuse die harder. In fact, sometimes they return with a vengeance :))))

(haha get it)

Anyway, what Eddie gets right is escaping Derry with his friends, owning his sexuality (albeit tentatively right now), and taking matters involving his health into his own hands. What he gets wrong is steering clear of people who remind him of his mother, but this isn’t entirely his fault, because the resemblances aren’t always obvious, and even then the association tends to be subconscious.

So when he meets this guy who he just can’t stop thinking about, and who dotes on him but in ways that are comforting in their familiarity but not glaringly obvious in their origins/associations, and he seems to... maybe even like Eddie that way, well, Eddie’s fucking gone for him. He doesn’t know why. He wants to be around him, is all. It’s like they’ve known each other forever. Incidentally, he has pretty much known Richie forever, and Richie dotes on him, too, but in ways that aren’t bordering on sinister, and Richie’s head over heels for him, but Eddie’s so accustomed to that kind of stuff that he wouldn’t realize Richie was in love with him if it slapped him across the face. He also doesn’t seem to realize half the reason he’s even chasing after this guy is because he’s trying to get over his feelings for Richie, or at least just find a different outlet for them, because “obviously” it’s never going to happen.

He’s less than a week from risking it all and just asking this dude from his program out on a date when this guy (let’s call him idk Curtis or smth) asks Eddie out, and Eddie’s fucking elated. He’s on cloud nine. He has a fucking boyfriend. “A boyfriend, Bill, can you believe that? Someone who actually wants to date me!” (Poor Bill’s ready to fucking explode, he’s just nodding along like, holy fuck oh my god how are you this oblivious oh my god I can picture another person who’d saw off their arm to date you pretty fucking easily to be honest.

Things with Curtis are fantastic for the first couple months, and then once -- about 3 months in -- Eddie has this weird fleeting thought that Curtis... kind of reminds him of his mother, sometimes. Funny, huh? Maybe it’s just that he’s so insistent on doing everything for Eddie, which is just him being a gentleman, obviously. Then there’s that time Curtis cries for a fifteen minute car ride because Eddie chose to spend the afternoon studying in the library with his friends instead of with him, and he was so lonely, and “You don’t hate me, do you? It makes me feel like you hate me when you put me on the back burner.” And, of course, Curtis asks him to move in with him, in his apartment just off campus, which means he’s not rooming with Richie anymore. It feels weird and almost awful the first few nights, but he gets over it because Curtis would be offended if he thought Eddie might like Richie (or any of his friends) more than he likes his own boyfriend.

By the time they’ve been dating for a year, Eddie’s lucky to see the Losers more than once a month outside of classes or grabbing a quick meal on campus, but he’s always so grateful when Curtis lets him spend time with them. And Curtis is (usually) so nice, and he’s always taking care of Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t even need to have a job anymore because Curtis pays for everything, anyway, and insists on never letting Eddie spend a cent, which is just so nice, right? Isn’t that lovely of him? In fact, Eddie doesn’t even need to be bothered with money at all, because Curtis handles it all. 

Bev tries to tell him, while they’re waiting in line for coffee before class one morning, that she doesn’t like the way Curtis treats him, and Eddie snaps at her. He doesn’t know where it came from, or why he felt the need to be so defensive, and after he storms off he feels so terrible about the whole thing he doesn’t know what to do. He tells Curtis first thing when he sees him that afternoon, because there’s guilt weighing in his chest about it, and Curtis spends the whole evening pampering him and telling him how much he loves him and how one day, if ever it’s possible, he’s going to marry him. “Don’t you see what they’re doing, Eddie? They’re trying to sabotage our relationship. They think we’re disgusting. They think we’re sinners. They won’t say it out loud, but they’re going to try to ruin us because they can’t stand what we have. You just have to ignore them, okay? Don’t let them ruin this for us.” Of course Eddie believes him. That makes sense. Of course it does. He must be stupid for not realizing that earlier.

But as with all things doomed from the start, there’s a breaking point, and it’s the day Curtis has the gall to actually hurt Eddie. Not in a little way, like he sometimes does when they argue, or how he’s been pushing him to eat less and less because he’s “put on some weight,” or the way he’s been carefully manufacturing comments and insults to keep him down, keep him doubting himself, which in the end is just as bad as any physical hurt, isn’t it?

Eddie’s late coming home from school because he ran into Mike outside the library and they sat down to chat, and he lost track of the time, and there’s a cold feeling in his gut when he gets home and Curtis doesn’t look up from the television as he asks, “Where have you been? Your class ended over an hour ago.”

And Eddie knows, he knows they’re trying to sabotage his relationship, Curtis told him so, but part of him just doesn’t want to believe that, and Mike seemed so sincere. He never once made any kind of negative comment about Eddie’s love life. The most he’d done was ask how Curtis was faring. That was as much as it was even mentioned. So he tells the truth, and Curtis still isn’t looking at him in the few moments of quiet that stretch between them, or when he says, “Come here.”

Eddie obeys. He always does, after all. Curtis grabs his arm too hard and it hurts but he bites his lip because he should have known better, after all, and he’s stupid, and that was stupid of him, and what if Mike is just out to get them? 

“Do you want to fuck this up? Do you want them to take you away from me?” he demands, face contorted by his anger, and Eddie shakes his head. He can feel tears burning at his eyes but he fights them because Curtis told him he’s a crybaby and no one likes a crybaby -- he doesn’t want to make him more angry. 

“No,” he tries to insist. “I just--” But he doesn’t get a chance to finish because Curtis’s free hand connects with his cheek hard enough to snap his head to the side, and the tears overflow even though he really really doesn’t want them to, as he stands there, stunned, mouth agape, cheek stinging. “What the fuck?” he’s demanding, and Curtis is yanking on his arm to drag him closer, holding so tight he’s almost worried the bones might snap.

“Sometimes I think you don’t love me at all, you know that? Sometimes I think you’re just fucking mooching, and you don’t give a shit if I feel valued or not.”

Eddie would normally defend himself. Tell Curtis that isn’t true, that he does love him, that he shows him that every day, to the best of his ability. That he’s given himself over to him completely, and isn’t that proof enough that he loves him? Except right now, he can’t remember exactly what it is that he “loves” about this man.

The arm Curtis isn’t crushing in his grip reels back and Eddie smashes his fist into Curtis’s nose and he knows, in that moment, there’s no salvaging any of this, and wonders how he ever even cared. In his shock and pain, Curtis lets go of him, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to get the fuck out of there.

He’s definitely crying when he shows up outside Stan and Richie’s dorm, and he’s trying to stop it because he doesn’t want them to be mad when they see him (because he’s an annoying fucking crybaby, isn’t that right?) but he’s knocking before he’s able to compose himself because he can’t fucking compose himself. He’s shaking and he ruined it but, really, isn’t that for the best? When was the last time he was truly happy with Curtis? The shaking won’t stop anyway, and he can feel anxiety building in his gut, making his stomach twist, because he has nothing now. He’s just gone and completely fucked himself over, and the rest of the Losers, well... they probably barely consider him a friend anymore, or if anything they probably think he’s a shit one, and this was a bad idea. Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea, because he’s imagining Stan sneering down at him and demanding to know why the fuck he thought they’d help him when he hasn’t been bothered with them in months, or Richie scoffing and telling him maybe if he wanted help so bad he could go ask his boyfriend, and--

The door swings open and Stan’s eyes go wide, and Eddie can’t get the words out, and he knows he isn’t having an asthma attack but this feels like an asthma attack. “Richie!” Stan is calling, but Richie’s already leaping up from his bed because he caught sight of Eddie through the gap in the door, and besides, he’d know that wheezing anywhere. Stan barely moves out of the way in time to avoid being bowled over. Richie freezes, though, halfway to grabbing Eddie to drag him into a hug, not sure that he’s alright with that (didn’t he always used to be?) and not sure what the fuck is wrong, but there’s a red mark on his cheek that’s pretty telling, anyway.

Eddie’s the one who surges forward first and wraps Richie up in a hug, because he needs it, and because Richie looks stricken, and Eddie knows somewhere deep down that Richie would never hate him. He’s always known Richie could never hate him. He has to repeat it to himself, like a mantra, as Richie awkwardly tries to shuffle back into the room with Eddie latched around his waist, but Eddie’s scared to let go. “Please don’t be mad,” he says, not quite meeting Richie’s eyes.

Everything he’s done in the last year has been so fucking stupid and he’s a fucking idiot and he’s well aware of that, so everyone else must be, too. So he excuses his behaviour with, “I just thought he loved me.” Maybe, in some way, Curtis does love him, but not the way that Eddie wants or needs to be loved, and he just wasn’t smart enough to see it before. He can barely wrap his mind around it now. But his cheek is throbbing where Curtis landed a pretty fucking solid blow, and his arm aches with the beginnings of a bruise, and he’s tired and hungry and miserable and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt less loved.

Richie, though -- Richie helps. Richie makes him feel better just by being here. By not letting go of him as they settle onto the bed, lying on their sides. Probably because he can tell how much Eddie can’t stand the idea of letting go right now. Stan brings them ice wrapped in a cloth from the kitchens and Richie holds it to his cheek for him and wipes the tears away and Eddie apologizes, over and over, until Richie tells him to stop. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Eds. Okay? You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

Stan whispers something to Richie as he’s pulling on his shoes, and Richie nods, eyes flickering up to look at him, but then he’s looking at Eddie again as the door clicks shut behind Stan. 

“I’m just glad you came here. I really am. You know we’ve got your back, right? Whatever you need. We’re here for you.” Richie’s gone all soft, eyes shining, his hand resting on Eddie’s cheek even though he isn’t trying to dry his tears anymore. His glasses sit at an angle on his face, one side pressed to the pillow, and it would probably be funny if Eddie weren’t so goddamn miserable right now.

“I gave him everything,” he says, through the thick feeling of tears blocking his throat. “I... I just thought he loved me.”

(That softness in Richie disappears for a second -- so brief Eddie’s immediately wondering if he might have imagined it -- to be replaced by something hot and fierce and pissed, like he could burn cities to the ground if so inclined, and inclined he is.)

A tear finally slips out of Richie’s eye and runs sideways down his face to soak into the pillow. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. We’re here for you. We love you, you know that, right?”

He should. He can’t believe he’d ever doubted it, but something (Curtis) had him doubting. It’s hard to believe Richie doesn’t love him when they’re lying here like this, and harder to believe he ever thought Richie might turn him away. And as for the other Losers... well, he can only hope they’ll forgive him, in time.

He doesn’t answer because he isn’t sure how to explain that, but he’s sure that he fucked up, in some capacity, and that the love the Losers have for him isn’t completely unconditional. Right? Or is that something Curtis wants him to believe? He bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds but he starts crying all over again, anyway.

The door slams open and Bill is there, Stan behind him with Mike in tow. They file inside just as Bev and Ben come thundering up the corridor behind them, and then the mattress is shifting and dipping as several more bodies pile on around them, and somewhere he hears Stan snap at Bill to, “Take your damn shoes off, you animal,” and Richie, close above him, retorts, “Who the fuck cares? I wear my shoes in bed all the time.”

“Animals,” Stan repeats, climbing over them to sit against the headboard and pull Eddie’s head into his lap. He takes the melting ice from Richie to hold against Eddie’s cheek, which is still swelling despite their best efforts. 

“Sorry,” Eddie says, when Stan tsks and shakes his head after examining it for a second, and several voices at once are telling him, “You have nothing to apologize for,” and “We love you,” and Richie smiles at him, albeit tremulously, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Eddie hides his face in his hands because he can’t stop fucking crying but now it’s because he’s so fucking happy. Happy to be back with his friends and to know beyond any doubt that they do love him and it is unconditional and he might just be okay, after all.

[blissfulalchemist]

“i can’t promise you anything.” + dealer's choice xx

Hello I have some Liz for you!

Being in a landlocked state is inconvenient when all you want to do is run away to a place that gives an illusion of peace. Instead of salt I get pine, instead of crashing I hear lapping, at least I’m not alone. Val sits next to me on the roof of her car, leaning back letting the sun warm her darker skin, while I have my knees clutched to my chest. The radio plays softly in the background both attempting to enjoy the view from where we’re parked in Boulder, and I can’t help but notice that Val’s been silent this whole time. 

“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” I say quietly, resting my chin on my knees, “I hopefully won’t be staying long.”

Val looks down at me, eyebrow cocked, “Why is that? You planning on getting a place of your own?” I nod, as she laughs, “No need to do that. My parents are cool with you staying as long as you need.”

“They also haven’t been around much either,” I point out and she waves off my comment, “Besides then you don’t have to live with the literal devil spawn.”

“Liz,” she sits up facing me, frowning, “what happened? I know you and your mom fought but there’s more to it than that isn’t there?” I look away from her eyes, shrugging, “I’m your friend, Liz, I just want to help you.”

I bite my tongue because she is the only person that would listen to me, the only one that could maybe understand or sympathize with me. She’s also the only person I have left and I don’t want to lose her. I can’t risk going through all of this alone, go through life alone. How can one tell your best friend that you just found out you came from a forced relationship, your mother murdered people in cold blood, and your father was a prominent figure head in a cult that harmed and killed many in a small county in Montana? I’m still reeling from everything I learned, and the possibility of what’s to come now that I know. 

I think she’s said my name again as I feel her hand lightly touch my shoulder. “I-. I don’t know what to say Val. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why would you ever lose me?” I catch the worry in her eyes, scooting closer to me pushing my loose hair behind my ear, “Liz there is nothing you can say that would have you lose me. Just tell me please.”

“It wasn’t just a fight with my mom, Val, she told me about my father,” I swallow biting my lip to stop myself from crying.

“The lawyer whose car you nearly trashed?” There’s no laughter or smile with her words this time, recounting the memory.

I nod, taking a deep breath, “She told me everything about him….and what she did.” Val looks at me with her sympathetic brown eyes, turning a little golden in the current sunlight, my arms release my knees, “She was kidnapped, Val, by a goddamn fucking cult. My father was brother to the leader and a leader himself in it. God I wish that our original assumptions were right and that she just got caught up and him being the richest had to do the payouts. That maybe, just maybe, my mom joined and never wanted anything to do with them, which is why there were sealed records. But no! No! She was kidnapped, forced to marry, had all this bad stuff happen to her only for her to still choose him. She chose to stay with him, a man that was killing people for his faith, for a delusional brother. And here I thought that maybe it was just because she found out she was pregnant with me and that’s why she stayed but again I’m naive, because it turns out she joined him in killing innocent people. Became judge, jury, and executioner.” I huff, heart racing and hands starting to shake, my blood starting to boil as the conversation with her replays in my mind. I was lied too….for years she lied to me. 

“You came from a monster and you’ll end up like one soon enough.” Those words repeated to me every time I had to stay with my grandmother, any time I was in trouble she’d blame it on my genetics, I should call and ask if she meant only my father. “How can I live with myself knowing about this now, Val?” I wipe away the few tears that have fallen, looking away from my friend, “It’s no wonder that I never had any friends, or family, or, well, anyone really, it’s because I am more of the monster they would ever be.”

“Liz,” she sighs and wraps her arms around me, the sobs starting before I can stop them. I hold onto her, feeling her fingers run through my hair, I’m staining her shirt as years of insecurity come to the surface. Every single piece of my life makes more sense now: the moving, the bullying, stares and whispers, mom’s hospital stays, all of it just stark reminders that I was blind to everything. So easy to manipulate, little Liz, soft and kind just like her mother, with a temper rivaling her father it seems. An actress, you’ll never know what she’s really thinking so better to not trust her before you’re burned. I feel like nothing more than a walking contradiction. Broken and strewn across the floor like my mirror, yet so perfectly put together you’d never be able to see the cracks unless you looked close enough. 

Everything in my body slows, listening to the soft words of comfort Val whispers into my hair. I’ve only just realized how silent she’s been about this whole thing, her face didn’t show much surprise. In fact she hasn’t shown much surprise through this whole ordeal. I didn’t even recall telling her that my father was John Duncan, the lawyer whose office we stumbled into three weeks ago, yet she knew and made mention of it. I pull away from her slowly, eyes narrowing, “Val,” she hums, her eyes looking me over, “I didn’t tell you that my father was the lawyer.”

She waves a hand, “Yeah you did. It was a while ago though.”

I shake my head, “No, because I only recently have everything put together,” I watch as she shrugs off the information, “Val….Did you know?”

“Know what?”

My shoulders slump, “You know what,” she’s failing at hiding the worry in her features, “Did you know that my father was the leader of a killer cult?”

Val stays silent, eyes looking away from me slowly. I cross my arms as she lets out a breath, nodding slowly, “I did. I knew.”

“What,” I clutch my chest, the sharp pain brief, “You-You knew.” She nods, looking back to me, “You knew and you never told me?” My body tenses to run all the while my hands feel ready to fight.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell, Liz,” her voice is calm and steady, “If your mom didn’t tell you then, well, she sure as hell wouldn’t have liked me telling you.”

“How long?” The ringing in my ears gets louder as I breathe deeply, I need to think and listen to what she has to say, “How long have you known Val?”

She bites her lip, looking down to her shoes, “Since we were kids.” 

“What,” my voice cracks, the water welling up in my eyes again.

Val nods, “I brought you over a few times and then one day my parents sat me and my brother down and said we weren’t allowed to be friends with you.” She kept this from me, “I asked why and they just told me that it was because you had a really bad father. That it was to protect us,” Val rolls her eyes, scoffing, “Then as we got a little older they gave me more details, it was all assumptions on their end. I never thought that they would be right or that he lived in the state, Liz, but I knew his face and his eyes matched yours.”

“You knew this whole time?” I can’t seem to let that part go, the phrase repeating over and over again. She knew and she never told me, her best friend. The one person I thought I could trust and she lied to me too.

“I didn’t know the exact details, but yeah, I knew since we first met.” She grabs my hand, “I never made mention of it because I didn’t ever want to upset you,” Val gives a small shrug, pushing her own hair back, “it also didn’t mean anything to me.” I blink, eyebrows knitting together, “What I mean by that is, I didn’t care who your father was and what he did.” Her thumbs rub small and slow circles on my hand, as she gives a small smile, “So much so I told my parents that they couldn’t stop me from being your friend and they were liars because if you were religious you wouldn’t be so nice.” A quick laugh escapes me unintentional as the image of her telling her parents to fuck off seems so unreal to me, “I gave a whole list of reasons and I just hung out with you still because I was braver back then and you already had my heart, I couldn’t leave that behind.” 

“I could turn out worse than them though Val. I was bred to bring about some new generation of Eden’s Gate or something like that,” I shiver at the thought, Val’s light touch along my cheek calming me, “Doesn’t that worry you?”

She smirks, “Nope.” She faces me head on, crossing her legs underneath her, “It doesn’t because I know you Liz.” She’s holding my hands, “You’re Lizette, the girl that is so smart that she’s graduating early and has all the teachers racing to keep up with you. Liz, the person most willing to stand up for the people below her, unafraid to knock those above down a few pegs, a woman of direct action. Liz, someone that was willing to honey trap a teacher in order to get the evidence needed to stop his cycle of abuse to the students he taught. You’re Liz, my best friend, confident, partner in life, someone that I love with my whole heart. Liz the sweetest, kindest, most determined, strongest, big hearted, and stubborn person I know.” She lifts my chin to meet her eyes, “You’re not your parents, you never were. You were and always will be Lizette Rojas, my best friend. Nothing, and I mean, nothing can ever change that.”

I move my chin from her hand breaking our eye contact, “Are you sure that’s really me,” my voice doesn’t sound like my own anymore, it’s too soft and reminds me of the orphans in movies, “It doesn’t sound like who I am anymore.”

“It is though,” she sighed, “You’re still trying to put everything together and that’s understandable, but do you remember what Mrs. Getten said when she sent you that article,” I shake my head, “I do. She said that no matter what it said or what you found out, it didn’t get to determine who you are. And she’s right Liz, Getten is right, you get to determine who you are and trust me when I say that you’ve already determined that.”

“What if people can never look past it in the future? I’ll always be stuck living in the shadow of their heartlessness,” What if I can never move past it?

“Then we work together and move past it, make them look at the real you,” she pulls me in for a hug, “Look I can’t promise you anything in regards to the future of how people will see you, I don’t have that kind of magic, but what I can promise you is that I’ll be with you. I will always see the real you Liz, okay? No matter what. You will always have someone in your corner.”

“Even if I fall off the deep end? What then? I can’t expect you to want anything to do with that.” 

“You really think you’re going to be like your mom,” Val pulls back, hands on my shoulders, “You’re not. The difference between you and your mom is that you’ll have someone there to pull you back. Remind you of who you are.” She gives me a smile, “She was alone and you’re not. No matter the childhood you had you’ll never be alone.”

I can’t help but return her smile with a small one, my hand covering hers, “Let me guess you’re going to make sure of that?” Val rolls her eyes playfully and nods, “You promise?” 

She holds out her hand, pinky extended, “Pinky promise.” 

I hook my own around hers and I embrace her again, “Thank you Val,” I whisper into her ear, “You mean the world to me.”

“Of course,” she squeezes me tighter, “I love you, Liz. I’d do anything for you.” She has tears in her eyes, when we finally pull away from each other, “Come on, we should uh-. We should get going back to my place. Maybe we stop for some ice cream or something.”

“Are you proposing a movie night?” Her cheeks look a little more red than they should be and she gives me a small shove, “If you are we’re going to need more than just ice cream and you know it.”

“Okay fine a trip to the grocery store, but I pick out two of the bargain bin movies,” she hops down, holding her hand out to offer me help.

I slide off shaking my head, “Okay fine, but only because you’re paying.”

“We going to play some games too?” Val asks as she starts her car up again, “Hell you know what Liz, let’s just take the rest of the week off from school.”

I clutch my chest, gasping, settling into the passenger seat, “We aren’t even sick my dear Val.”

“Hey, isn’t it you that says people need to take a mental health day?” It's easier to laugh with her as she proposes what we could do to get out of school for the rest of the week. I don’t bother to argue as I know she’s going to win as she’s the one with the car and she’s right. “Why don’t we go up to my parent’s place in the mountains, just you and me. Get away from all this madness and not worry about people getting in contact with us or school.” 

I roll the window down, smiling, “I like that. I like that idea a lot.”

[coasttocoastreads]

Welcome back to Week 2 of Coast to Coast Reads! Who’s still alive? Katya and I are dying while social distancing, but at least we had a few laughs discussing this book:

Crescent City (House of Blood and Earth) // Sarah J Maas

★★ / ★★★★★

Summary in one two gif(s):

Real Summary:

Crescent City, a place where vanir (supernatural beings such as angels, fae, shifters, etc.) and humans freely mingle and go about their days. Bryce Quilan is a 20-something fae/human who’s still reeling from the murder of her friends 2 years ago. But after she’s commissioned to help search for an ancient artifact, Bryce, along with her new angel partner Hunt, unearth previously buried secrets about the murder that threaten to expose a worldwide conspiracy. 

Pros:

Great side characters. I would die for each and every one of them.

Lots of different mythological creatures! Not just another Fae Book™️

Cons:

It’s literally ToG 2-7 combined. If you read Throne of Glass, you’ve already been spoiled for this book. 💀💀💀

It’s wayyyy too long

Drags a lot in the beginning

Plot .5/5 (the .5 is for you, Lehaba)

What can I say. SJM literally plagiarized herself by taking the plotline of the tog books and translating it to this new setting. The writing itself was subpar, and most of the time it felt like the author herself had no idea where the plot was going, instead letting it drag on until a plot twist that makes no sense is revealed. (You’ll know which one I’m talking about when you get there.) I’ll compare CC with ToG with spoilers under the cut. 

Pacing 2/5

The beginning is full of info-dumping as SJM tries to set up this world which is metaphorically like ours, but everyone’s hot and does fantasy cocaine all the time.  It narrates boring day-to-day schedules that could have been condensed into a paragraph and at times I was tempted to skip ahead. The plot does pick up near the last 25% though, so I’ll give it that. 

Worldbuilding 2.5/5

It was confusing. To be fair, after all the info was dumped at the beginning, I didn’t bother going back to try to figure things out when they popped up again after. But like still??? I think I only started understanding the hierarchy of the government with the Asterrii(?). Also what are the Triarii I am still lost. SJM attempts to blend a more modern society with one of fantasy creatures, and for the most part it succeeds, but it often just feels...strange. I think the one thing I’m most hung up about is why swords and guns still coexist. Like ??????? it’s one or the other plssssss abandon the “aesthetic” Also while they literally have cell phones and keurig machines there aren’t common things like cars? Why.

Characters: (This is unconventional, bear with me)

Main Characters: -infinity/5 they could go die for all I care

Bryce and Hunt were both super unlikeable, 10/10 would let fall from a cliff. They are literally just rewrites of Aelin and Rowan? Bryce is like ahahaha yeah people think I’m Just a dumb vapid Female™️ who parties too much and gets trashed but SIKE I’m actually the chosen one and I’ve been hiding it this whole time because I didn’t want to hurt people’s feelings uwu. And did I mention I’m actually a trained Warrior who can keep up with The Boys? It’s Aelin y’all. There are numerous times where a character says that she’s not stupid and I’m like...are you sure... This girl makes the poorest decisions, yet ofc, there aren’t any long term consequences... (Also 99% of her problems come from ghosting people literally just respond with “k” sis)

Hunt is... idek what to say about Hunt. He’s just Rowan but in angel form. His inner monologue cycles between I must pay off my debt so I can gain Freedom 😔, why is Bryce so hot 🥴, and Shahar 😭. Once again, literally Rowan who also was bound to some evil villain, had the hots for their CENTURIES YOUNGER pupil/protectee, and had an old lover die tragically which led to them believing they can never find love again UNTIL BryLin comes along. Snooze. 

Side Characters: Infinity/5 

Ruhn Danaan was the most valid character and that’s the hill I’ll die on. He literally just wanted to protect his sister cuz she’s stupid af but she keeps pushing him away bc he’s an “alphahole” (haha how subversive :/) I want a whole book about him and Hypaxia, preferably fanfiction so I don’t have to read “soft feminine breathing” ever again.

Literally all the supporting cast- Lehaba, Therion, Ithan, Jesiba, Flynn, Connor, etc, etc. had more compelling characters and side stories than Bryce/Hunt. I was 100% more invested in them and I can’t wait to read/write more about them. 

(Pls let me marry Jesiba Roga or Therion 🥺)

But while the people on the “good” side were spectacular, the villains all felt one-dimensional and the product of over-recycled and overused tropes mashed together. Sandriel and Pollux are literally just Maeve and Cairn (is that his name)

I’d recommend for:

People who loved Throne of Glass and are lamenting the absence of new content. Please read about Rowaelin 2.0

People stuck at home during this global crisis and have too much time on their hands. (If you need that free epub, hmu)

People who are willing to skip all scenes that feature just Bryce and/or Hunt 

People who hate themselves

Would I travel here?

Sorry, what? Already shredded my passport, not getting a replacement, sorry. 

Overall thoughts:

I wish I could somehow take those hours of my life back but alas. 

See y’all in two weeks with a hopefully better book selection,

Tiff

Spoilers under cut

Okay time to VENT

OKAY so CC=ToG, let’s break down how

Danika’s death is the Nehemia Incident, setting the mc up for a journey of self discovery/reclaiming their power. They both show up as ghosts later to encourage mc in a time of great self-struggle.

Syrinx if Fleetfoot. bc all female mc’s need a pet to reveal her Feminine and Soft side

Sandriel and Pollux are Maeve and Cairn. Evil female character with vast power and her torturer? COOKIE CUTTER FORMULA. The scene where Bryce offers herself up for Hunt in the lobby also kinda mirrors that scene in..HoF? QoS? Don’t remember, but pretty sure that happened. Also that scene was so fucking dumb, I really thought Bryce had a Smart Plan, but I was bamboozled once again. 

A gem from my notes: “Bryce is Aelin but with cocaine”

I think the whole demon portal thing is a ripoff of ACOWAR (or is it KoA I can’t even remember), sacrificing yourself to close the rift, etc, etc. 

Anyways, Bryce = Aelin, a party-girl front with a sob backstory that’s her superpower origin story who always has a Plan. 

Hunt = Rowan, broody warrior busy repaying debts getting orders they don’t want while pining over a lost love. They reluctantly let the female mc in and voila they’re in LOVE

The whole “plot twist” that revealed Hunt’s true plan along was so fucking dumb...

It wasn’t a plot twist, it was just plain bad writing

There was no set up at all, nothing alluding to Hunt secretly masterminding an attempted coup with the help of Magic Meth

The whole time I was like “...this is part of their plan right. There’s no way he legit planned this...”

Character’s POVs should reveal what they’re thinking, even if you’re just hinting at something to reveal later...this was just lazy

Another thing that really rubbed me the wrong way was the sudden reveal that Fury and Juniper had been in a relationship the whole time? Despite like above, there was no prior allusion to that?

It felt like half-assed representation at best and completely irrelevant to the story with it coming up again in a throwaway line near the end

Also? I’m fairly certain there was a scene in the beginning where they were all out clubbing and Juniper hooked up with some rando while Fury was also at the club with them? Was this before they got together or did SJM insert this so last minute that no one caught it?

Wtf is sunball. Can someone just help me out here.

Some people have been saying Hunt is Asian coded? Where???!!!!! All I’m seeing is the same stuff she pulled in ACOTAR where all the Illyrians were tan so people could claim they were poc for woke points but not get in trouble for art depicting them as white ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

SJM pls stay away from “like calls to like” you don’t deserve it

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

I could imagine Tenko being the type of guy who want to keep his dad happy even if it mean being depress And than one day during college he met pro-hero around his age. They began to date and he slowly drift away from his father. Maybe he moves in with her, they secretly gets married, and they move to live aboard. Tenko became estrange from his father but still have some contact with his mother (and only her). I could also imagine Kotaro hating his Daughter-in-law because she’s a hero. Roughidea

you’ve activated my trap card and now i am obligated to talk about this, let’s gggooooooo

- tenko would absolutely be the type to submit to his father’s will. he may have been rebellious about it as a child, but once his quirk appears, he is absolutely terrified of his own potential. this creates a difficult situation - on one hand, tenko’s compliance puts his father in a better mood, but on the other hand, kotarou does everything in his power to shame his son into never using his quirk, never speaking about it, never showing it to anyone, etc. it’s not that he is against quirks like he is about heroes, but tenko’s quirk is particularly dangerous, and his father wants to ensure everyone’s safety. 

- but consider how poor tenko feels now that he has a quirk? he wants to be a hero, and now that he has this ability, he is somehow even further from his goal. because his father tells him that this quirk is far too dangerous and villainous for use, and none of his family disputes this view. tenko can see it in their eyes. no matter how cheery they try to appear, he can see the flashes of fear when he reaches out for a hug, or when he craves some kind of physical contact. i think only his mother would offer him this comfort. she reached out to him when she was disintegrating, so i can see how she would uphold her unconditional love in this au as well. 

- and so he grows up without his own ambitions, stifled by his father’s control and unable to do anything about it. there are dark moments when he wishes he could run away or stand up for himself, but he’s learned long ago that this is not a possibility. he has stood up for himself a few times, but they always ended in his mother being blamed for being too soft on him, for encouraging his behavior with her kindness instead of remaining firm and disciplined like kotarou. so tenko stopped, because he couldn’t bear seeing his mother suffering for his outbursts. 

- his relationship with hana is one of ebb and flow. it took her a while to stop fearing him after he accidentally killed mon-chan, and even longer for her to feel at ease around him. they eventually put the past behind them when they are teenagers, and regain the bond they once shared. but hana’s bias against heroes and quirks shines through, because she was heavily influenced by their father, with tenko as a living example of what can go wrong. they can never truly trust each other, but they do still love each other.

- ENTER. HERO READER! 

- tenko didn’t even know you were a hero. he’s seen you frequent the same coffee shop he visits right before class, and he thinks you are so attractive but he struggles to muster up the courage to talk to you. after all, he isn’t conventionally handsome by any stretch of the imagination (to him), and he wouldn’t even be able to touch you properly. but you caught on - you noticed this stranger throwing you shy looks from time to time. tenko pays for your drink once in advance (the barista points discretely to him with a conspiratorial smile). you blatantly stare at him as the barista explains what happened, and he’s sitting there in his usual spot in an alcove and he has this adorably panicked expression once he dares to glance at you. so you buy some pastries (praying he likes sweets, and to your luck, he loves them), and join him at his table. and the rest is history. 

- he falls for you almost instantly. you are so beautiful and charming and kind, his mind is just reeling from how wonderful you are. nothing makes him happier than to spend time with you, away from the strained atmosphere of his home, away from all the judgement, away from everything. but he is still so afraid to admit the truth to you, and that is what keeps him from admitting his feelings for you altogether. 

- one day, something happens. something that causes him to activate his quirk in front of you. as he stares at the decay, all he can think about is how much he hates himself, how you would hate him for being an ugly liar. he is suffocating from the fear and self-loathing and he can’t even look at you, he’s practically spiraling into a panic attack. but you just place your hands on his cheeks, wipe away the tears, and tell him how incredibly cool that shit was. it was so cool and you can’t stop gushing his quirk with a big smile on your face and he can’t even process what you’re saying. he just can’t. 

- you’ll have to work hard to convince him that you meant every word you said. when you tell him all the ways his quirk could be used to help people (get rid of rubble in rescue situations, tear down walls and sneak in to end a hostage situation), he can only scoff and bitterly reveal the truth about his family. how much of an overbearing influence his father had always been, how his family feared him, how he’s always been told that he has no future in heroism and shouldn’t even try. and your anxiety is growing by the minute, because you are a hero. and when you tell him your truth, neither of you know what to do. 

- the sensible thing to do would have been to go your separate ways. but by this point, your feelings for each other have grown too quickly and too electric, and despite knowing what disaster awaits for this relationship, you are drawn to each other. you are his biggest source of comfort, his pillar of support, his everything.

- you keep this relationship secret for a while before tenko just can’t help giving away subconscious hints. his family notices the subtle changes in his mood and demeanor. he is so much happier and smiles more, and when hana pesters him about it, he can’t help reveal that he is dating you (and absolutely does not mention you are a hero). that’s his sister, after all. they are still confidantes to each other in some ways. and hana is absolutely ecstatic, because her little brother is finally seeing someone! and ya’ll know she won’t keep this a secret from anyone. his mother finds out immediately after hana because she comes barreling towards the kitchen with this reveal. kotarou finds out last, when tenko decides to tell him on his own terms. tenko thinks this will be a disaster, but his father is surprisingly supportive about it (he even pats his son on the shoulder my god). except when he finds out you are a hero.

- kotarou, without a shadow of a doubt, absolutely despises you after that. he wants to understand your angle — are you trying to worm your way into the family because of his wealth? are you trying to corrupt his son just for the hell of it? he can’t stand you, he doesn’t want you anywhere near his son. he is cold and unwelcoming to you every step of the way, and will immediately sit you and tenko down for a serious talk about your relationship. hana is polite and kind, but she ultimately sides with her father, just as the grandparents do. tenko’s mother is the most willing to accept you for who you are, and she will try to speak to kotarou in private about his behavior and how he should give you a chance. she never succeeds.

- of course tenko is devastated by his family’s reaction to you. mortified, even. you both cycle through periods of intense devotion to each other and uncertainty. you don’t want to drive him away from his family, and tenko somewhat internalizes the points his father brought up about the dangers of your profession. but at the end of the day, he just can’t stay away from you. you have brought him indescribable happiness and peace. more importantly, you validate him in ways he’s always dreamed of, and he can never let that go.

- tenko’s refusal to break up with you furthers the divide between him and kotarou. the tension between them hasn’t been this terrible since his childhood. his mother, however, is secretly rooting for you two. she meets with you in secrecy one day just to get to know you, and she is so welcoming and warm and you suddenly understand where tenko gets his sweet personality from. she even thanks you for accepting her son the way he is.

- his animosity towards his father escalates to the point where he moves in with you and never even looks back. he doesn’t want to leave his mother and grandparents in that house, but he can’t keep living like this anymore. and the peace he finds with you is just … everything he’s ever wanted. no more fights, no more fear, no more stifled anger, no more flinching at slamming doors, none of that. just you and him and solitude.

- marriage! you try to make the best of the situation and invite tenko’s family. surely they would come, surely they would put aside their prejudice to join you two for this momentous occasion. except kotarou adamantly refuses to attend. he almost succeeds in keeping everyone else away from attending, too, but this is when hana puts her foot down. he does not go to his only son’s wedding, and the absence is profound and it hurts.

- when tenko makes one last attempt for reconciliation and calls his father to tell him that you are pregnant, this is the breaking point. what was meant to be a joyous occasion quickly turns sour as kotarou coldly tells tenko that he did not care about his child if he allowed you to continue being a hero, because a hero being a parent would only bring suffering to the family. tenko does not speak to his father for years after this conversation. kotarou is not welcome anywhere near your home or children, and he is just fine with that. he is done trying to protect his son and grandchildren from the future he himself was forced to endure due to nana shimura.

- you live a damn good life together. there are moments of hardship, but you are both alive and well, and remain madly in love. i can picture kotarou on his deathbed in his later years, thinking about the choices he’s made in his life. how he drove his son away, and whether it was worth it in the end. the fact that his predictions did not come true are a stinging reminder of how selfish he had been. he requests tenko to come visit him, because the old man has regrets, but how can you even begin to repair all the damage that’s been done? “was it worth it?” tenko would ask him. kotarou wants to believe it was. but he knows he made monumental mistakes.

[jbuffyangel]

Transparency: Arrow 7x11 Review (Past Sins)

Dear Arrow writers,

Please write better episodes for David Ramsey to direct.

Love,

Me

I didn’t love “Past Sins” but that’s not a reflection on David Ramsey’s directing. I’m always happy when Arrow dives back into Robert Queen, but yeesh there was a lot of hokey.  

 I’d give it a C+ for writing, but a solid A for David’s first time directing.

Warning: my interpretation of Bl*ck S*ren’s arc is either right on the money or wildly and grossly wrong. No middle ground. It’s one or the other. 

Let’s dig in…

Olicity

I love my steady ship. They are dealing with separate issues this week. Oliver is facing more Robert Queen fall out and Felicity is busy being Bl&ck S*ren’s Say No to Murder sponsor. And here we thought L*urel & booze was a problem. Oy. 

But there are plenty of Olicity goodies as they check in with another. I truly don’t need 100% focus on Olicity every week. I mean, I’ll take it if Arrow is handing it out, but I’ve been watching this show for too long to believe in that pipe dream anymore.  As long as they hit me with a few Olicity focused episodes I’ll be good.

Source: olicitygifs 

The smaller moments are important to me too. In the immortal word of Joey Potter, “It’s gonna be the details that define us. The moments.” 

The details and moments, big and small, define Olicity’s love. I am really enjoying watching our ship happily married. We’ve earned this friends.

Felicity continues to be Oliver’s rock solid support system. She gives him great advice about Emiko, he follows it and TA DA! A bridge to a relationship with his sister is created when before there was none. 

Source: olicitygifs

The moral of the story is Felicity is always right and Oliver would avoid 99.999% of his problems if he just ran decisions through the home office first.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Felicity is pushing for transparency from Oliver because she knows the truth we all know. Oliver is an amazing human being, but he has to strip away all the things that prevent people from seeing that - such as masks and lies. The more Oliver shows his true self to Star City the more they will fall in love with him. 

Why this city is more ticked off about Oliver hiding his identity rather than being grateful for the three times he’s saved them from total destruction is beyond me. Star City you continue to be an ungrateful twat of the highest order.

It’s really frustrating watching the police, Star City citizens and even Oliver’s own sister fundamentally mischaracterize who he is, but this is why Felicity continues to be so important. She’s our voice. 

Felicity is saying all the things we would say to Oliver. Her belief is unwavering, so it’s clear the point of this storyline is to show that the police, Star City and Emiko are in the wrong. They’ve misjudged Oliver and as we continue to push him toward this almost Messiah like evolution it’s really important for hindsight. Everyone has look back and realize Oliver’s goodness was staring them in the face the whole time. This way when he raises from the dead everyone will appreciate him.

Source:  oliverxfelicity

Is it weird I still get excited when they hold hands and kiss? Well, I still get excited when they hold hands and kiss. 

Source:  olicitygifs

We have had a solid kissing run too. I think they’ve smooched at least once for the last five episodes. We are well fed fandom.

I love Oliver’s little head shake whenever bae is being adorable. 

Source:  oliverxfelicity

He smiles and shakes his head like, “How in the world did a grump like me end up with this adorable rainbow of a human being?” I don’t know Oliver, but you are one lucky bastard.

Oliver Emiko and Robert Queen

Oliver offers his apology to Emiko for all the wrongs their father has done her. It’s juxtaposed against Oliver’s reformed vigilante interview with Bl*ck S*ren. Oliver may be sorry for what his father has done in the past, but in public he is still covering for him.

Oliver: I can prove to you I am nothing like him.

Emiko: You’re a Queen. All you know how to do is leverage your own privilege to help yourself.

I’m having some issues with Emiko’s perspective on Oliver.  

She’s lived in Star City her whole life.  She’s dressed up like the Green Arrow for the last seven months. If she can grasp the Green Arrow is a mechanism for justice then how can she say Oliver has simply been helping himself the last seven years? Those two don’t equate.

I understand Oliver singing his father’s heroic praises on television has to grate on Emiko because Robert was anything but a hero to her.  It’s natural for Emiko to believe Oliver was a total asshole before the Queen’s Gambit, because he was one. 

However, it’s difficult to view the Green Arrow as leveraging privilege. The guy saved the city from destruction three times. Oliver admitting he is a vigilante fighting for the citizens of Star City should have cleared up some of Emiko’s issues, but I guess not. I think the writers could have eased up on the anger a little bit.

Obviously, a lot of Emiko’s anger with Robert is being targeted at Oliver. He’s the last man holding the bag. Oliver has the Queen name so he has to answer for all their sins. Thanks a lot parents. 

However, Emiko knows Oliver is more than Robert Queen’s son. He was mayor and saved the city multiple times. The only way I can rationalize Emiko discarding this information is she believes all the good she’s witnessed from Oliver was merely for show. No different than how Robert Queen paraded around town as a “good guy.”

Emiko is right about something – Oliver is still not telling the full story. We know he’s not as we listen to the interview. Oliver is obviously struggling with calling his father a hero now that he knows about Emiko. The truth is, abandoning his daughter is not the end of Robert Queen’s list of sins. Not by a long shot.

It’s always difficult to hear anyone bring up Robert’s suicide to Oliver because it is one of the most painful moments of his life. It is probably the most painful. There is a purpose to revisiting this topic, other than the reporter being a nosey, but it still makes me uncomfortable when anyone outside the inner circle (Felicity and Diggle) brings Robert up.

Hackett was Robert Queen’s bodyguard and he made it to the raft too. Robert shot him just before he turned the gun on himself. 

In all of Oliver’s retelling of how his father heroically saved him he’s always omitted this detail. Quite frankly, I breezed past it over the last seven years too. 

Hackett was expendable to Robert. A necessary cost to saving Oliver’s life. The choice Robert made in that moment was one most parents’ can understand, but that doesn’t change how Hackett died. 

One of the reasons Oliver has not dealt with Hackett’s death, and the manner in which he died, is because he cannot reconcile the two events in his mind. Oliver cannot see his father as a murderer in one moment and a selfless hero in the next. The contrasting images are too stark. It was too much for a traumatized Oliver to sort through.

However, Oliver has learned life is not black and white. And neither are people. He’s come to terms with a lot of the trauma in his past. 

Oliver is also in a stable, loving and supportive relationship, so he’s able to sort through the grey areas of Robert Queen. 

Source:  oliverxfelicity

His experience in Slabside showed Oliver criminals aren’t always entirely bad. So, now it is easier for Oliver to accept heroes aren’t always entirely good either.

Oliver’s ambivalence about Robert isn’t new territory. He told Tommy in Season 1 he had a lot of anger towards his father. There are a lot of decisions Robert made that hurt Oliver and he didn’t understand. He was grappling with the Undertaking at the time and Robert’s cowardly inability to put a stop to it. So, it’s not like Oliver has spent the last decade thinking his father is a swell guy.

The one thing Oliver always holds onto with both Robert and Mora is they did whatever was necessary to protect their children. It’s how Oliver rationalizes their more questionable behavior. However, Emiko is Robert’s child and he abandoned her. Moira turned her back on Emiko. Oliver cannot rationalize this behavior and it casts a much darker light on some of their previous actions. He’s also simply reeling from the shock of discovering he has a sister.

Oliver is on a transparency kick, which is why he’s doing this interview. He’s coming out of the shadows and allowing the people of Star City to see who he truly is. This isn’t new territory for Oliver either. He’s been showing Star City his true self bit by bit.

It started in Season 4 when he became mayor and rehabbed his bad boy lout image. Then, Oliver told the truth about how his father died in a press conference in Season 5. 

Keep in mind the story the public knew was Robert drowned when the Gambit sank. Hell, Thea thought that until Season 3.  However, Oliver left out a crucial detail in his heroic retelling of Robert’s sacrifice and now he needs to tell the whole truth if he’s really invested in full transparency.

Arrow grapples constantly with responsibility versus legacy in terms of Oliver’s heroic evolution. Oliver is not responsible for Robert Queen’s actions, but he’s trying to be a better man so the sins of the father do not become the sins of the son. He hasn’t always been successful at it, but overall Oliver is a better man than Robert. He’s the man his father asked him to be.

The legacy Oliver inherited from both his parents wasn’t great. He’s been focusing on creating a legacy of his own, one for William, which breaks the cycle of violence that began with Henry Goodwin’s death. However, there are still skeletons in Oliver’s closest. He wants Emiko to give him a chance to prove he’s different than their father. 

Oliver: I think I’ve been so obsessed with proving to people I am not like my father that I didn’t stop and look at all the ways that I am exactly like him. I should have come clean with Sam years ago.

Oliver has been drowning in Robert Queen’s ocean of lies for over a decade. The only way to the surface is the truth.

It starts with Hackett’s son Sam who has been terrorizing the SCPD for hiring Oliver.  He built some kind of vest that electrocutes police officers. This is the point of the episode where my electrical engineer husband got up and left. The vest pushed him over the edge. The level of ridiculousness on Arrow now matches The Vampire Diaries and he had to peace out.

Oliver admits he’s a liar to Sam because… he is. Oliver has told many lies over the years and simply because his intentions were good doesn’t automatically make the lying okay. If Oliver is really living a transparent life then he has to tell the whole true. Starting with how Sam’s father died. It’s a hell of an apology, but unfortunately too little too late for Sam. He’s gone round the bend.

Arrow takes a hard left directly into a wall when it decides rather than Sam simply electrocuting everyone with his science-that-doesn’t-exist vest, he’s going to make one of the police officers shoot Oliver. The other cops get to live if one of them kills Oliver. I think? I guess the police have to prove they aren’t working with a known criminal. Except Oliver is a criminal and he’s working for the SCPD, so…???!!!

Don’t make me explain this plot guys. It’s just as stupid on paper as it is watching from my living room. I like the Hackett son storyline. I’m always down for some son versus son melodrama, but I can’t with the hokey tech.

The cop can’t shoot Oliver because “he’s one of them.”

*Cue emotional music, preferably a string quartet, to signal the cops’ acceptance of Oliver to the audience.*

Dinah shoots an electrical box, the vest doesn’t work and nobody dies, which is exactly what every viewer across the globe expected to happen. The writers know they built zero suspense in this episode right?

Oliver decides to sit down for another interview, but this time he tells the whole truth when asked about his father’s heroic sacrifice. Yes, Robert Queen was a hero. He was also a murderer. Failing to acknowledge both truths does a disservice to Robert’s memory, his legacy and the people left behind.

Oliver: Transparency is about more than just not wearing a mask

A duality exists in us all. None of us are entirely good or bad. A good man can commit horrible sins.  A horrible sinner can accomplish much good. They are often one in the same. The truth is the only proper judge of a person’s soul.

Source:  smoakmonster

Ummm… 

Generally, I would be extremely excited about this kind of a speech from Oliver Queen. I’d be trumpeting THY NAME IS CHARACTER GROWTH and hire a band to go marching down Main Street, but nope. Not this time. I am no longer the sweet summer child of my youth. This isn’t 2012. It’s fucking 2019 and I’ve been dancing this dance with Oliver Queen for a very long time.

Here is what I know: Oliver Jonas Queen is a liar liar pants on fire whenever he deems necessary. It’s the nature of the biz. He’s gonna hero the way he needs to hero and sometimes it requires selective truth telling behavior. Some would call this lying. I prefer to look at it as a necessary evil in the service of goodly, and Godly, pursuits. I’ve made my peace with it and I think Felicity has too.

He even prefaced this pledge by saying he’s made a lot of mistakes and will continue to make more. That’s literally a get out of jail free card to use whenever necessary!

Me: You said you weren’t going to lie Oliver!

Oliver: I also said I would make mistakes. The lie was a mistake. TA DA!

Me: *seethes*

I think it is wonderful Oliver is trying to live a more transparent life and I give him a lot of credit for airing his father’s dirtiest laundry ON LIVE TELEVISION. Most of us just get really drunk and drop a truth bomb at the wake. Different strokes for different folks.

I do believe Oliver means it. It’s very good for his hero development. He’s learning to merge both personas into one. The hood is down. He’s embracing his humanity and holding on tightly to the people he loves. Everyone knows he’s the Green Arrow. The truth is no longer the price for protecting his family’s name.

Oliver was so afraid everyone would blame him for Robert’s sins that he ended up committing some of those very same sins in an effort to avoid it. Oliver acknowledges he was wrong and shakes some of the last remaining skeletons in his closet free as a result.

The only person holding Oliver accountable for Robert Queen’s actions is Oliver (and Emiko). It’s because of what he witnessed and the trauma that resulted. His father’s last words were, “Right my wrongs,” and then he blew his brains out. It saddled Oliver with an enormous burden and guilt. His mission was born from that burden and guilt.

But there’s been a seismic shift inside Oliver.  He’s stopped blaming himself for Robert’s death. He’s trying to shift away from violence and has stopped killing. He’s telling the truth about who his father really was and those admissions bring freedom.

Oliver is more concerned with his legacy than he is about Robert’s now. He is more concerned about being a good father than he is about being a good son. Bit by bit Oliver is lifting the weights that have burdened his shoulders for over a decade. Oliver is becoming a man who is nothing like Robert Queen, and by doing so, becomes exactly who his father asked him to be.  

Oliver Queen is Robert Queen’s legacy. He was all the good Robert had left to give the world, which is why he sacrificed his life and killed Hackett. The only way Oliver completes Robert’s legacy is if he builds one of his own. 

It means no more mask, hood, killing or lies. These are the layers which must be stripped away so Star City can see the man Oliver truly is. It’s like he’s yanking out all the worn out carpet and the beautiful hardwood floor waiting underneath is revealed. If we are preparing Oliver for a Messiah like resurrection then this is another very big step to a sin free hero.

It’s enough for Emiko to see Oliver’s light and goodness too. It’s not enough for her to forgive Robert for what he did, but she realizes Oliver is very different from their father. His transparency makes Emiko think a relationship with her brother may be worth having after all.  And that’s a start.

Bl*ck S*ren and Felicity

Source: andremichaux 

Felicity and L*urel are wine drinking buddies. 

How long have we waited for Felicity to have a female friend to drink wine with? SEVEN YEARS. And the female friend is… S*ren.  

Here’s what’s even weirder – I buy Bl*ck Siren and Felicity as drinking buddies more than I buy L*urel and Felicity. That’s how bad it was with her character.

We finally get Bl*ck S*ren’s back story. I was slightly curious about how S*ren ended up as a fishnet wearing, screaming psychopath. The answer is cake. 

S*ren’s father forgot her cake for her 13th birthday party. So, L*urel threw a fit and Quentin got back in the car to get it - only to be driven off the road by a drunk driver. 

S*ren becoming a super villain because of cake is the most L*urel thing this show has ever done. I cracked up.

The drunk driver, Collins, is supposedly Siren’s first kill so she can’t understand why she sees him alive in an alley. Umm… because he’s the E1 version and not the E2 version. How is S*ren confused by that? You. Are. A. Doppelganger. She’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the box.

S*ren believes Collins is stalking her (re: threatening notes), but he’s not. He’s just a drunk Dinah locks up for disorderly conduct. S*ren didn’t really kill E2 Collins either. She didn’t have a handle on her powers back then. E2 Collins died on his porch of old age, I’m assuming. 

Source: felicitysmoakgifs 

So, the catalyst murder S*ren used to justify her murder-y rampage wasn’t murder after all.  The first person S*ren ever killed was someone who didn’t have anything to do with her father’s death. This essentially eliminates any moral justification for Siren’s killing going forward.

Bl*ck S*ren's father's death is not her fault. The many people she killed, however, are her fault. It’s good S*ren didn’t kill Collins, but it also removes any justification she might have thought she had. S*ren’s whole world is a house of cards.

Source: katie-mcgraths 

This storyline is really a bonding opportunity for L*urel and Felicity. S*ren blames herself for her father’s death and Felicity is there to tell her it’s not her fault. This is an important step in a redemptive process. We have to get to the root of what caused the bad decisions, so the character can avoid the behavior in the future. 

Sort of like how Oliver confessed he enjoyed killing to Felicity in a sewer. She told him that was crazy talk and she does the same thing for L*urel here.

Source: katie-mcgraths

One of the reasons I like this version of LL is because she’s a more interesting character. S*ren is a killer and a villain, so it does give her scenes with Felicity and the other characters a different slant. I know it frustrates people when she shares scenes with Felicity, but I enjoy them. They make a good straight woman/funny woman. Felicity doesn’t ignore S*ren is a murderer and the occasional snarky comment from one of them gives their scenes some honesty, which was sorely lacking with LL.

Felicity: You haven’t had a problem talking about the dozens of other people you’ve killed so why keep this one secret?

Is it ridiculous Felicity is drinking Malbec with a serial killer? Yeah. I’m not sure what else to say about it. It seems everyone has decided since Bl*ck S*ren is living life as straight laced L*urel L*nce, and doing good, they are going to look the other way regarding her multiple homicides. 

The fact Felicity believes she can reform a killer isn’t exactly out of character. She’s done it before and look how good he turned out! This guy used to drop bodies on the regular and now he’s a puppy dog.

Of course, I am not equating Bl*ck S*ren’s murders and Oliver’s murders. They are very different things. S*ren killed good people for a bad reason. Oliver killed bad people for a good reason. But it’s still murder. So, yes I am leaving room for Bl*ck Siren’s redemption if she actually does what I think her redemption arc requires. And that’s a big if.

One reason I’m not particularly bothered by this sudden besties arc with Felicity is because something feels off. Really off. Does this feel a little fast to anyone else? 

Arrow made a really big show of S*ren living L*urel’s life better than L*urel did in “Past Sins.” She’s the most popular DA in the last ten years, which really says something about our L*urel’s ability to lawyer. Someone who studied for three months, never went to law school or took the bar is navigating the Star City penal system better than L*urel ever did. I gotta say this show never misses an opportunity to shade whatever version of L*urel L*nce they can.

My point is Bl*ck S*ren, by Arrow’s standard of measurement, is redeemed. Felicity is singing her praises about how proud Quentin would be. 

Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

Even Oliver coughed up a 60% compliment in the interview, which I think is a personal best when it comes to those two. 

Source: smoakmonster 

Oliver, Felicity and Dinah have all signed off on Siren’s redemption. And we’re on episode 11.

If S*ren is ending this season as redeemed than she’s already there. Beth talked about how some characters will find redemption while others will not. If they are focused on S*ren achieving redemption then they shouldn’t have her land there in 7x11. She has nowhere to go other than maintain the status quo, which puts us back to the original problem the writers had with L*urel. It’s also kind of a dull storyline and we have a lot of season left.

I think everyone was “Ra Ra Ra Siren! Go Team!” because they aren’t done exploring her darker side. S*ren was uncomfortable about Felicity wanting to have drinks like friends. She also had difficulty accepting Felicity’s compliment regarding honoring Quentin. Eventually, she allowed the sentiment to sink in and could appreciate the acceptance and forgiveness being shown her. But something lingered in her eyes a little.

Source:  nyssaalghl

But what does she do next? When S*ren is threatened she chooses to kill Collins, whatever version of him. There’s no reason S*ren couldn’t have reached out to Dinah or asked Felicity to help her resolve the problem legally. SHE IS THE FREAKING DA. But no – S*ren opts for murder.  

Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

The only reason she didn’t do it is because Felicity interrupted and yanked her off the playground like a three year old. That doesn’t signal a redeemed person at all.

One of the problems with S*ren’s character is she had no connection to Oliver or Felicity, which automatically separates a character into a different show. They had the same problem with our L*urel. They had to give Quentin some ridiculous arc about S*ren being his daughter to justify her staying put in Season 6. 

But now, she’s Felicity’s drinking buddy! S*ren helped save Oliver and Felicity held Siren’s hand through her emotional cake confession. FRIENDS. Hell, even Oliver is starting to like her.

I know this makes everyone bang their heads against the wall. Seriously, that’s all it took for Oliver and Felicity to get on S*ren’s bandwagon? 

We have to remember this is Arrow and their history with LL and KC is… complicated. They aren’t going to devote a ton of time developing a relationship with Felicity. I think they’ve done a pretty good job selling it, but sure episode 11 feels a little too soon for Felicity to be completely invested in S*ren’s redemption.

I think they are moving quickly because they aren’t fully invested in S*ren’s redemption. If everyone is redeemed at the end of the season then it automatically lessens the impact. You get redemption and you get redemption!

Redemption should be difficult to earn. It certainly has been for Oliver. Someone has to fail at achieving it to show it’s difficult to earn. Someone has to reject it to show the value of those who desire it.

They’ve been comparing and contrasting Oliver and Bl*ck S*ren all season. “Past Sins” is the most obvious thus far. Both Oliver and L*urel are dealing with  father issues. Both characters had guilt to contend with and each landed in a fairly peaceful place about it by the end of the episode.

S*ren is getting all the same support from Felicity that Oliver found. At at the end of the day, having good people around us isn’t enough. We have to choose to be a good person. Redemption can only occur when a person wants to be redeemed. The fact S*ren slips so easily back into murder makes me question if she really does. Perhaps, the shoe won’t fit in the end.

It would be an amazing contrast to Oliver’s arc. We know he’ll end the season redeemed. If Felicity shows S*ren the same love and support, but she chooses to remain evil then it casts a very bright light on Oliver.  

Free will must be introduced. The writers have to level the playing field. S*ren has to be given all the same opportunities and support Oliver was given. Then, if she rejects redemption it’s truly on her. She has no one to blame than herself. Oliver’s redemption and goodness is not just a result of Felicity’s belief and influence. It’s also who Oliver chooses to be.

BS and Felicity have developed a friendship, so if she goes back to her villain ways then there are stakes now. Felicity is invested whereas a year ago she wouldn’t give BS a second thought. It gives the two characters drama to play with in the fallout.

Of course, I could be completely wrong. It’s entirely possible the writers will keep BS at the status quo. If that’s what happens then character’s snide snark still makes her a more interesting character to watch than milk toast LL. Or perhaps the writers are pursuing a more in depth redemptive arc. S*ren will own up to her crimes and do a stint in the pokey. That would be a great contrast to Oliver as well. No matter which way they go I am curious to find out, which is a heck of a lot more than I can say for my apathetic state regarding LL years ago.

Curtis and Diggle

My live tweets track my emotional Curtis Holt roller coaster.  

Look, I am a nice person and I deserve nice things. The writers teasing Curtis’ death like this proves to me they know he’s the absolute worst and we want him gone. They’re just being obstinate about it. 

I still think Curtis is going to die. 

They’re just going to mess with us before they off him for real. All the evidence is still there. There’s no mention of him in the future, there’s no Holt in Smoak Tech, Felicity is developing the tech for the Archer program without him (AS SHE SHOULD), and he’s not part of the Mark of Four.

Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

Curtis has been almost nonexistent for the last four or five episodes. It’s clear the writers aren’t using him as much and that’s typically a sign of their lack of investment in the character. Tell me what was going on with L*urel before she bit the dust. Nothing, that’s what.

My cratering disappointment aside, Curtis did get one over on Diaz. It’s a bad ass moment for the character, which probably means we have another coming with his alter ego Mr. Terrific and then he’ll be toast.

He’s also the voice of morality the entire episode. Curtis Holt is acting more Yoda than John Diggle. Just when I think we can’t go any lower the writers reset the whole scale. 

He takes a big stand with John and decides he’ll be making his own calls. Let’s just ignore that’s not how a military operation works, Diggle outranks him and Lyla can just fire his ass. 

When characters suddenly become angels with wings it means Arrow is getting ready to ship them off to the great, big superhero haven in the sky.

I don’t really care about Ghost Protocol. Sure, it’s inhumane putting bombs in people’s heads. Curtis is right. Diggle is wrong, but whatever. Put a bomb in Diaz’s head, John. Have at it.

Stray Thoughts

Felicity looked adorable in her white and red polka dot shirt. It’s affordably priced, but it’s one of those shirts I know looks amazing on Emily and horrible on me. We have very different bodies.

This bottle remark is a big mood. I’m gonna abuse this gif. Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

No meeting between Felicity and Emiko. I think the writers will focus on Oliver’s relationship with Emiko and once that is solid we’ll get Felicity and William interactions with her. They can’t do two things at once friends. Don’t make it too hard on them.

They can’t say Suicide Squad. Hahaha

Why is Bl*ck S*ren dressed like a Girl Scout on E2? Source:  nyssaalghl

“You should be behind bars.” I like this guy. Collins can stay. Next round is on me buddy.

"I almost do." Bl*ck S*ren kind of grows on you, Oliver. Like a chia pet.

Reason 34,097 why Felicity Smoak is our spirit animal: never leave the wine.  Source:  felicitysmoakgifs

We need to ease off the shoulder pads with KC, wardrobe department. I'm having eighties flashbacks. Reel it back in.

My understanding of Oliver working with the SCPD is he does all the work while Dinah & co follow him around in single file.  How is this any different than what he did before? Oh it's legal. This is dumb. I’m over it. Time for Team Arrow to get back together.

Great nod to Felicity not taking Oliver's last name.     

David loves the slow close up. A signature is born.               

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x11 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

[jakeallison96]

How To Get A Pisces Ex Girlfriend Back Wonderful Cool Ideas

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How To Make Your Ex Want You Back After A Year

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How Get An Ex Boyfriend Back

[joyfullynervouscreator]

The Walkers pt 4

Forgot I hadn’t uploaded this on Tumblr, sorry!

Fourth installment of ‘The Walkers’, the story of Ullrae and Beorn!

part 1                part 2                part 3                part 4

word count: 4.6k

At first, he sees only one sentence. I am not coming back. He feels numb, sits for hours staring at those words. They make him a failure, more than anything else she could have said, more than running away in the first place. The first duty of a Scildere is to protect those who are weaker, those who are in his care. Papa’s words resound in his head, spoken centuries before, but still remembered with clarity by the man who was once a small boy called Hwelpan, sitting on his Mama’s lap as Papa explained the rules of the Clan’s life.

Mama was the queen, dryhtcwén, she made the rules, bargained with the other lords and cared for the people under her command. Papa was her Scildere, the protector, the warrior in charge of keeping everyone safe. It was the role Beorn had always wanted, though he had barely been old enough to mate when the Orcs came; he had already proven to be a skilled fighter, even though Papa was still better.

None of their training had mattered against bows and the bite of metal blades.

Beorn has killed many Orcs, he knows, still staring at the paper. He is the best chance Ullrae has of safety; he has learned over the years how to defend against their metal weapons, how to use his speed and intelligence to defeat his enemies. He failed to protect Berveig, who was torn away from his side in the mines, but he knows he could protect her. He is better now, better than he was then; he has grown in strength and cunning with age, just like Papa once promised he would, back when the world was still filled with happiness and sunshine and play.

Unbidden, an image of Ullrae loping across the fields in her lynx-body fills his mind; the world still has sunshine, catching on golden fur, still has happiness in the way she laughs when she plays with the dogs. For the first time in many years, Beorn cries, realising what he has lost; much more than when Álmbera left to marry one of the Northmen who rode through his lands as they migrated south. Álmbera was his salvation; she taught him to be a family, taught him how to love again, and yet he had not recognised that the cracks she had made in his stone heart had been wedged open further by Ullrae’s golden eyes – still capable of smiling, even after all she had gone through. A cry of pain rips from his throat, scaring one of the dogs.

I am not coming back.

He stares at the words, traces them with shaky fingers, and he knows. Berveig was taken from him, only three moons after their mating, though he had known her for some years beforehand… Ullrae, however, has left him behind on purpose, after he has spent two decades falling in love with her; something he did not think possible. He has never heard of a mated bear loving someone else after the mate is dead – and Berveig is dead, he knows, Ullrae has never been able to lie to him convincingly – but he knows, knows that Ullrae is his love, feeling more despair at losing her than he remembers feeling for Berveig a century before. Jumping to his feet, Beorn is ready to go out once more, try to find her elusive trail, follow her until he can make her see.

Then he spots Berveig’s name on the paper, rending his resolve in pieces as old pain rears its head once more. As he reads the words, he can see her, fierce and beautiful, strong; a fit mate for the son of the dryhtcwén, Mama once said, pride in her voice as she watched Berveig fight. Ullrae’s words are simple – he taught her how to write and read, but she did not practice often, seeing little need – and yet the words, dark ink on creamy paper, shape stark and vivid images in his head, makes him think he can almost hear Berveig’s roars, smell her blood spill on stone floors. Reading the account of her torture is horrible; Beorn has to leave in the middle, sicking up against the side of the house as he imagines her screams, imagines the Orc’s laughter. He even imagines Ullrae there, wearing the same shackle he had once struck from her leg, staring at the spectacle with the same deadness in her eyes as he would see whenever she thought about the Stronghold and her life there, remembered her family’s deaths. He can’t decide which sight is more painful; knowing how Berveig’s life ended has not brought him the peace he expected when he first demanded Ullrae tell him. He regrets the sparks of anger he has carried since then, knows that she felt them, even when he was not angry with her so much as with himself for worrying at a wound he had thought long-since healed.

He wishes he had not emptied his stomach, reading the brief words that tell him the fate of his son. This time, there is nothing but bile to spill from his mouth, the images in his head cycling in a reel of pain and despair. Dark and boiling hatred rises in him, black like tar and equally viscous, nearly choking the breath from his lungs. It doesn’t matter that he had never even known the cub existed; the loss of his son is mingled with impotent anger at himself, failing to protect what was his to keep safe, anger at Berveig for not telling him about the cub, even anger that he’s the reason Berveig was pregnant at all. If she hadn’t been, perhaps she would have been there on the fortuitous day when a rock falling broke the chains that bound him and an old grizzly told him to go, told him to run, made his escape possible by sacrificing himself to the anger of the Orc overseer.

He wants to rage at Ullrae, as he rages at the furniture he has so carefully made over the years; smashing and snapping, the sound of wood breaking not enough to quiet his screams of fury. He wants to scream at her, tell her she should have kept her silence; it would have been better not to know. He remembers her telling him that, telling him he would not wish to have the images now lodged in his brain and he knows she is right. He wants to scream at her, ask her what she has left out, ask her how she is still sane after witnessing so much horror. He wants to hold her, to never let go, to promise her that he will keep her safe for all the years remaining to him, even if he knows that she is capable of fighting her own battles.

He spends more than an hour yelling at her spectre; the laughing girl who is gone forever, who stole his heart without his knowledge or permission, and left him to live among the broken, jagged pieces of once-happiness.

 When he returns to his own mind, he is sitting among a mess of splinters; no thing in the room has remained whole in the face of his raging fury. A flash of pale cream catches his eye; the letter has fallen to the hearth he does not remember lighting.

Scrabbling to pull it from the flames that have already devoured all but one corner, he is left with a triangle of paper bearing seven small words.

All my love,

Ullrae, daughter of Léona.

He remains kneeling on the kitchen floor the rest of the night, crying for all he has lost, feeling broken beyond repair; his heart no different from the splinters that surround him. The dogs eventually dare to approach, but Beorn finds no comfort in the cold noses prodding his bare skin – he thinks he was a bear for some of the destruction, but he does not care that he is naked – nor does he hear the soft whines of his small friends.

  The morning sun paints the room with gold, dust motes whirling in the air. Beorn’s tears have dried on his face, but it takes him hours to get to his feet, to begin cleaning up the splintered and broken wood. He walks through the house mechanically, numb, thinking of no one and nothing beyond the task at hand, losing hours staring into thin air.

It takes him three days to leave the fog of numbness, to realise that he needs to find her. He worries about her, though he tries not to, tries to trust that he has taught her the skills she didn’t already have, has taught her well enough that she will survive, even without coming back to their home. He winces at the memory of her screaming at him; she is right, it is her home, too, has been her home for as long as she has been there, her home ever since he woke up to find a wildling girl stumbling through his territory chased by orcs bent on her destruction. He remembers with crystal clarity the giddy way she kissed him, named him hers – how did he not know then, how did he not notice how much it pleased him to be claimed thus? – even the way she bravely faced his anger to ask for what she needed even when he had mistaken her question the first time. Ullrae has always been brave, a fierce little wild thing, and he has to believe that her fierce spirit can carry her through life.

He already knows he won’t find her trail, she’s too efficient a prowler, so his hunt is little more than a token effort to appease his own heartsickness. It does not work, though he slaughters a small band of roving Orcs almost without noticing.

 Returning to the cabin – is it still home without Ullrae to greet him with a smile? – Beorn shudders at the sight of the dark house. He takes care of the neglected animals, the goats and the hens, pats the dogs as he moves through his house aimlessly, absentmindedly.

 Two hours later, he leaves, the animals free to roam behind him; Beorn barely thinks about the place he has cared for, has called home for so long. The massive black bear lumbers north, his purpose once more nothing but vengeance.

He makes his way to his old home – there’s nothing left of the village after nearly two centuries, of course, but he spends a day saying goodbye to the life he knew there, remembering the fiery red hair of his Mama, the grizzled face of his Papa. He thinks Mama would have liked Ullrae. It is the last time he allows himself to even think her name.

 “Gyda is pregnant,” Athelstan reveals one day, staring at the blue sky far above you. It is evening, the chores of the day are done, and you’ve chosen a moment to simply relax, follow the path of clouds racing across the sky.

“From the Blessing?” you ask; it’s a custom that puzzled you the first time Athelstan went to war, and you understand it no better after it’s happened the second time. Athelstan tried to explain it, something about anchoring his soul to the land through the flesh of a woman willing; his guarantee that he would join his ancestors if he should fall in battle, find his way to their halls. He nods, a tight, not-quite-happy move that makes you frown. “Congratulations, my friend,” you say, meaning it. In your Pride, new cubs were celebrated; and though you know Men are different, surely, they, too, find joy in the creation of new life? Athelstan sighs heavily. “Will you marry Gyda?” The cheesemaker in the village is a plump and happy woman, you think she could be good for Athelstan, and if you ever felt a need to leave, you’d like to leave him in the hands of a good woman.

“I cannot pay her bride-price,” Athelstan says, “though I will claim the child. If it is a boy, he will be my heir. If it is a girl, I will set aside some money and things for her.”

“What’s a bride-price?” you wonder. You know what a bride is, and trading with the Elves in the forest taught you about the price of goods… but Gyda is a woman, you think, you can’t buy a woman… can you?

“It is the price I would have to pay her family to marry Gyda,” Athelstan explains, which isn’t much of an explanation. In your world, mating is determined by strength. If a male wants a female, he has to make her submit to his strength, prove he can protect her and any cubs; far more sensible, you think, feeling a shiver of lust at the thought of Beorn. You suppress it ruthlessly, thinking about Rena’s first mating challenge; she lost, but the male had not fought fairly, and your father had challenged him in return. It was rare that such challenges happened, but it was in your laws that, one of the female’s kin may challenge the male if he is considered unworthy or wins through trickery. You subside into silence, determined to speak to Gyda the next time you visit the village.

 “You have been gone a long time,” Radagast says, when the bear returns to the cabin he once helped build. The bear looks at him, no recognition in his eyes. “Where is your mate, Beorn?” Radagast asks quietly, “Where is Ullrae?” The bear roars, as though the name hurts him, shuddering until it transforms – slower than Radagast has ever seen, the wizard notes worriedly – into a wild-looking man who falls to his knees.

“Not mate,” he croaks brokenly, voice faint, as though he has forgotten how to speak. “She is gone.” Radagast does not reply, though he helps Beorn into the house, his eyes widening at the lack of furniture. Beorn slumps against a wall.

“How long has it been since you walked as a man?” Radagast frowns.

“Seven winters…” Beorn finally replies, the words slow and hard to find. “I think.”

“Do you want to be a bear for good?!” the wizard exclaims, more than a little horrified. The bear won’t remember how to be human forever, much like staying human too long can harm the ability to shift. “What happened to Ullrae?”

“She’s gone,” Beorn says, staring at his old friend, “I… she left, and it was my fault.” Radagast frowns.

“Gone where?” he asks, somehow finding two cups and pouring a cup of tea for each of them before he sits next to Beorn on the floor.

“I don’t know,” Beorn sighs. The pain is still raw, but he forces himself to tell his old friend everything; Radagast once turned him from the path of vengeance and death, perhaps the wizard can help. Radagast hums thoughtfully, stuffing his pipe. Beorn frowns lightly; he used to grow some tobacco plants for Radagast, but he hasn’t been back here for seven years; the fields are overrun by wild nature and very little remains of the gardens that Ullrae had loved. A storm felled her favourite tree in his absence, the broken stump another wound to his soul somehow; the land is forgetting her presence, making it seem like she was never here.

“She would have gone south,” Radagast finally says, “she wanted to see humans, didn’t she?” Beorn nods slowly; Radagast is right, Ullrae would have gone south, not north like she had pretended to throw him off her trail.

“The south lands are big,” he mutters darkly, “she could have gone anywhere.”

“She would need somewhere safe to go into heat,” Radagast points out mildly, his words making a sick feeling spread in Beorn’s gut. What if his Ullrae has found someone to ease the burning? What if she has mated – he counts in his head; she would have had two heats since she left – what if she had chosen to bear the children of some unknown Man? A snarl rips from his throat. MINE! Resounds in his head, making him jump to his feet, pace across the floor; desperation feeding his soul the image of Ullrae’s naked body writhing beneath some straw-headed Man. Beorn growls.

Radagast goes into the bedroom – how did he not realise what she meant to him when she slept in his arms? – returning with a small box. Álmbera made it once, as a child; Beorn has cared for it for nearly a century, as a memento of his human daughter. Inside he has kept trinkets, small tokens of his life, and Radagast knows it. There is an acorn the wizard once gave him, it has turned to stone, Beorn thinks, a dried flower – more brittle that he likes to think of – from Álmbera’s wedding crown, a scrap from her dress tied around the stem with a lock of her and Tirwald’s hair twined together. The box also holds a strange silvery metal; the remains of Ullrae’s shackle, which Beorn still doesn’t know what to do with; the metal can break, yes, but he feels uneasy leaving it where he cannot check it is there. It is a weapon; one he knows will affect him. If it can still force someone – he broke it in five pieces, but he doesn’t think it is enough to break such a spell – to remain in human shape, the shackle is probably the most dangerous thing he has ever come across. He is strong, even when he walks as a man, capable of living through things that would have killed Men, but he is not invincible. The most important thing, however, is a small scrap of paper, one edge blackened and burnt; definite proof that Ullrae was here, that she cared for him.

“Give me that!” he snarls, cradling the box to his chest. Radagast smiles wistfully.

“I miss Álmbera, too,” he says, trailing a gnarled finger through the air just above the fragile dry petals. “She made you a better man, my friend,” he sighs, “a happier man. I had hoped Ullrae would help you become the man you were meant to be.” Beorn flinches at the name, but he is still filled with a fervent desire – need – to go after her, bring her back, claim her. “You were not created for solitude, Beorn.”

“I know,” he mumbles, closing the lid carefully. The hairs inside have lost all colour, but he pretends he can still see the vibrant red of Álmbera’s curls and the golden wheat of the man who loved her. He doesn’t even have that much of Ullrae, he suddenly realises; he has things she has made, yes, but no physical memory of her beyond seven words on a burnt scrap of paper.

“Go find her,” Radagast sighs. Beorn smiles. He has missed that combination of paternal love and exasperation Radagast excels at, mixed with a dash of distrait but benign madness. “I shall speak to my small friends; Ullrae is not exactly a forgettable woman… someone will have seen her.”

 Beorn barely takes the time to put his small box of memories back in its place before he is off, loping south as a giant bear.

“You’ll need some clothes!” Radagast calls after him, but Beorn simply huffs a bear’s growly laugh back at him. He’ll steal something to wear or stitch some skins together himself, make clothes that way. Ullrae won’t care what he wears.

He tries not to imagine what she will say when he finds her – he has no doubt he will – squashes every thought that she might have found herself a husband in the years she has been gone.

 You have been with Athelstan for nearly eight summers when he first notices.

“You haven’t aged a day since we met,” he remarks one morning, stroking the obvious grey hairs that have snuck into his brown locks over the last three years. You smile, but it is tinged with sadness, knowing that the words only come because Athelstan knows he has not got many years of life left.

“I am not a Man, Athelstan,” you reply quietly, staring down the road with him. You’re expecting his sister’s son to arrive today from Aldburg; Mildwyn’s son is the logical heir to Athelstan’s farm. He would leave it to you, you know, but you also know that when he dies, this will not be your home. “I do not age like you do. I am…” you think about it; you’re not sure what year you were born, after all, “more than a century old,” you finally say, because that’s not wrong. You were young when you were captured, only thirty summers, and you spent more than a century in the Stronghold. You wonder if you’re closer to two centuries now, but it hardly matters. You will live until you join the Hunt Eternal and reunite with your kin. Athelstan gasps. You look younger than him – even when you first came here, you looked more than a couple decades younger than him – and you know some of the gossips in the village speculate about your relationship with Athelstan. It does not bother you, though you know he takes the words to heart. To you, these people do not matter; when they are dead and dust, you will still walk the land, why should you care what they think of you. You care about Athelstan, because he is your friend, but the rest of these people might as well be sheep to you – or maybe horses, sheep are a bit too stupid to be people, you chuckle to yourself, even if some of the villagers aren’t much cleverer than an ordinary sheep.

“That’s… odd,” he laughs. You wince. His laugh has turned wheezy over the last few years, winter lingering in his chest. You both ignore it with long practice.

“It is the way of my kin,” you shrug, “we grow slowly.”

“How slowly?” he frowns. Athelstan always wants to know more about your kind, the ones he calls Gengende, and sometimes you ignore the pain of discussing your past, regaling him with stories of your sisters, playing with the cubs and other happier memories. You do not tell him about Beorn, though you think he knows that love clings stubbornly in your breast making you sigh when you cast your eyes north.

“I do not know,” you purse your lips thoughtfully. “If I had borne a cub from the first needing I had here,” you begin, though it hurts to discuss a fate that will not be yours, “she would have finished suckling about two years ago, but she would still be small, and I would not let her roam far from the den. Like… a toddler,” you say, remembering the word for small children. Gyda, the village cheesemaker, has a toddler, three-year-old Wilrun. She is also Athelstan’s child, though no one speaks of it. The babe was a result of the Blessing – the fighting against the orcs that had concurred with your needing had not been the last time Athelstan went to war – the old ritual of the Rohirrim. You know he would like his child to grow up knowing him, but though you usually stop by the cheesemaker’s house on market days, her brother always glares darkly at you until you leave again. You do not pretend to understand; Gyda is a widow, and a marriage is not like a mating, she is free to love again, marry again, and she has no other children to care for; in your mind, there is little to hinder her moving to your small farm with her daughter. Athelstan tried to explain it once, but you could not make sense of the concept of a bride-price. Athelstan quirks a smile, though it is edged in sorrow, and you know he too is thinking about little Wilrun.

“When would she be an adult then?” he wonders, shading his eyes as he stares down the road. You shrug. You were not an adult yourself when you were brought to Azog.

“When she was an adult woman, who had grown breasts to feed her young, and wider hips to bear them,” you say vaguely; the concept has always been nebulous to you. You remember Lillia’s coming of age vaguely, but you never had a celebration of your own; you only know that it would have been some time while you were in Azog’s keeping. “The Pride would have a feast for her, and everyone would watch her shift.”

“You do not shift as children?” he asks, making you laugh. He loves your form, especially during autumn when you hunt effectively, ensuring that you do not starve through the cold winter, by bringing home game that means you do not have to feed up and slaughter as much livestock.

“Of course, we do.” You shake your head fondly, “but the first adult shift is considered special, just like the first adult hunt, where the new lynx leads the hunt and takes her first solo kill.” Looking back on it, that would be the night Beorn struck off your shackle, sharing your small kill. You smile softly; the memory is a fond one, even if it is laced with sadness. “A few years after that, she will have her first heat, and if she has not found a mate, she will begin looking. My sister, Lillia, was mated a few years before the Orcs came… his name was Léofwine of the Grasslands Pride. He was a worthy male; even my father said so,” you laugh, remembering the fierce but playful male, “females are powerful hunters and fighters; they will not accept a mate who cannot dominate them with his strength; proof he will sire strong cubs. Léofwine was very strong… many females wanted him, but he wanted only Lillia.” He would probably have been strong enough to take more than one female through heat, the beginning of his own Pride, but Léofwine had not had that sort of ambition, his eyes fixed on Lillia from their first meeting.

“And you?” Athelstan has asked you before, about husbands, but you have always said no; knowing that you found your mate years ago, recognised his strength as yours before you even knew his name.

“I was… a girl.” You mumble, trying to explain it in a way that makes sense to a human. “Orcs came, killed everyone but me and I was a girl then. I am woman now, but still… not mated.” The clatter of hooves interrupts whatever Athelstan wants to say, a young man dismounting with the easy grace of a born horseman.

“Uncle!” he calls happily. Athelstan smiles, moving to welcome his nephew, but you stiffen at the way his eyes roam over you.

“Ordred! Good to see you, lad!” Athelstan exclaims, clapping him on the back. You growl softly in your throat. “This is Ullrae, an old friend who helps me run the farm.” He gestures to you and you make yourself nod, keeping your countenance inscrutable even as your spine crawls with the way Ordred’s gaze follows the curve of your breast, the flare of your hips.

“Mistress Ullrae, your servant,” he claims, bending to kiss your knuckles. His eyes dance mischievously up at you. You have to force yourself not to wipe your hand against your trousers.

“Mister Ordred,” you reply coolly, turning back to the farm with a perfunctory nod. This young man is a predator, you think, recognising something in him that unnerves you. Once more, you affirm your vow; whenever Athelstan chooses to die, you will leave and never come back.

[ncfan-1]

I just want to say I adore all of the meta you've done on Eclipsa! And I loved your headcanon and fanfic on Skywynne being Eclipsa's first daughter too! Do you have any other headcanons about them or other past Mewni Queens?

Thankyou! I’m glad you liked the fic and the meta!

As forhead canons, well, I’m keeping some of my Eclipsa head canons under wraps untilwe find out more about her on the show, but there are some I can talk about.She had Skywynne (or whoever her older daughter turns out to be, if theyaddress this on the show and it turns out to be someone else) at a relativelyyoung age, nineteen. She married her Mewman husband when she was seventeen. Hewas only a year older than her; this wasn’t some ‘old man marrying a child’deal. They were friendly with one another (they liked to talk shit aboutmembers of the court they didn’t like together, and both trusted to the other’sdiscretion), and her feelings for him were… complex. So complex that Eclipsaherself can’t really define them.

Whydid she marry him? The Butterfly family sort of goes through cycles of having alot of branches or relatively few; in present-day, it’s pretty extensive, butin Eclipsa’s time, it was relatively small. Eclipsa didn’t have a lot of alliesat court, and her future husband was from a powerful family. When thingsdeteriorated, the fact that he was from a powerful family wound up workingagainst her. Badly.

Skywynne?Once her mother was crystallized, Skywynne did much the same as Elizabeth Iregarding Anne Boleyn and never spoke of her again. She wore some of hermother’s old jewelry from time to time, but otherwise, avoided any connectionto her. Skywynne had to work hard to rehabilitate the reputation of the crownin the eyes of the Mewman people after everything that went down with Eclipsa.She had to work equally hard to avoid falling under suspicion of sharing hermother’s “unconventional” beliefs, both regarding dark magic and the place ofmonsters in Mewni society. (Her natural position towards both was already inline with Mewman society as a whole. She was predisposed to fear and distrustdark magic, and was inculcated with the institutionalized racism of her people,which unlike her mother, she never shook off, nor even questioned. This didn’tmatter to the royal court.)

Skywynne’spersonal feelings for her mother were complicated, to put it mildly. Sheregarded her mother’s fleeing Mewni as a personal betrayal, and even beforethen, their relationship wasn’t untroubled. I talked about it in thispost, but basically, Eclipsa, though she loved Skywynne and she did try, wasn’t an ideal mother. AsQueen, she already didn’t have much time for her kid, but she was also, uh,consumed with other things (Research into dark magic. Trying to make strides inintroducing reforms into how monsters are treated. Stuff like that). Also,performing the constant emotional labor that comes with being an involvedparent didn’t come naturally to her. They didlove each other; they just didn’t have a perfectly untroubled relationship.Eclipsa was a bit absent, and Skywynne more than a little needy. They bondedover a shared love of spellcasting and research.

On topof regarding her mother’s fleeing Mewni as a personal betrayal, she wasrepelled by Eclipsa’s experimenting with dark magic (though like the rest ofthe MHC, she didn’t know exactly what Eclipsa did, and never cared to find out)and repelled by the notion that monsters should be regarded as equal toMewmans. Her feelings towards Meteora were resentment that this was the childher mother had “replaced” her with mixed with quiet revulsion of theabomination she and society both regarded a Mewman-monster hybrid as being.

Butlike Eclipsa, Skywynne had a fascination with incredibly dangerous magic, though unlike her mother she had thegood fortune to be drawn to magic that wasn’t regarded as “dark.” Unfortunatelyfor her, time magic happens to be even more inherently dangerous than most ofthe dark magic her mother came up with. She died a rather gruesome death whenone of her experiments went wrong.

Otherhead canons?

-Skywynne had a twin girl and boy at the age of thirty-five, and no otherchildren.

-Celena the Shy, like Star, read Eclipsa’s chapter, and like Star, made use ofthe All-Seeing Eye, though she did so much more than Star did. A bit too much,in fact. Her insatiable curiosity led her towards “things men were not meant toknow”-type knowledge, and as tends to happen when someone stumbles on “thingsmen were not meant to know”-type knowledge, Celena did not come away from thatmentally unscathed. Many of her contemporaries thought she held her fan up toher mouth as some sort of nervous tic. It was in fact because of a curse thatwas laid upon her; I’ll leave that one to your imagination. The fact that shewears gloves over her hands may be significant.

-Celena favored plant creation magic. She wasn’t much of a fighter.

- Eclipsamet her monster lover/possible second husband shortly after she became Queen.She had a number of monster friends that she made when she snuck out of thecastle while she was still just the princess.

-Someone, I think it was @nomidot, head canons (or head canoned; I don’t know ifthey still do) Eclipsa’s mother as being blind. I like that head canon, so ifthey don’t mind, I think I’m going to use it, too. My version of Eclipsa’smother was named Persephone. She went blind as a young child due to illness.She could be rather distant with the court, fierce with her own child, but shestill loved Eclipsa very much, and Eclipsa spent much of her childhoodpractically attached to her mother’s hip. Eclipsa didn’t like to worryPersephone, though she spent plenty of time worrying about Persephone. Persephone had an ebony cane with a silver handlethat she used to walk with.

-Eclipsa’s father died when she was a little girl; she has no clear memories ofhim. Her mother died when she was fifteen.

-Eclipsa’s first foray into dark magic involved trying to bring her mother backto life. It ended badly. Really badly. The results were… Well, imagine theresults of human transmutation in FMA: Brotherhood if the result was actuallythe person the alchemist was trying to bring back to life, and you get thepicture. What was brought back didn’t survive very long.

-Already reeling from the loss of her mother, Eclipsa sank into a deep, numbdepression after her attempt to bring her mother back to life failed so spectacularly.Her first husband supported her through it (though he didn’t know about theresurrection attempt; no one in the royal court did), hence Eclipsa’s verycomplex feelings for him. No one else had been willing to do that; just him.She sort of fell in love with him during this period. It wasn’t an enduringlove; what it was was lingering.

-Solena died by committing suicide.

- I’mwavering on whether the “a castle stormed” in Solaria’s tapestry poem refers toher castle being stormed, or her storming someone else’s castle, namely acastle belonging to the monsters. Right now, I kinda want to believe that whatwe know as the Butterfly family’s castle was originally a castle belonging tothe monsters that Solaria sacked and conquered. After she conquered the castleand established it as the home of her court, any references to it having oncebeen the monsters’ castle were thoroughly effaced. Whether or not I stick withthis head canon, I’m head canoning her as one of the earlier Queens of Mewni,rather than being one of Eclipsa’s descendants.

-Bubipsa the Barbarian Baby-Eater… oh boy. Right now, I’m head canoning the‘barbarian’ part of her epithet as coming from her having a Johansen father. Asfor the ‘Baby-Eater’ part… She got away with it because the babies in question weremonsters. Yes, really. Even the ultra-racist Mewman royal court regarded thisas being beyond the pale of acceptable behavior, because, you know, babies. Since they were monster babies, though, the MHC didn’tregard this as a crystallizing offense (Though Rhombulus was still appalled.Hence why he cites his mistaken recollection of Eclipsa as being a baby-eateras justification for crystallizing her). Bubipsa was eventually killed when herdaughters staged a coup against her; eating babies wasn’t the only unsavorything she was doing, as it turns out. Oh, and no matter how evil you thinkEclipsa might turn out to be, Bubipsa was worse. Much worse.

- Thetreaty Comet intended to sign with the Monster King… Well, monsters would havebeen better off if the treaty had been signed, but that’s more because therearen’t too many ways they could be worse offthan because it was a fair, equitable document that was going to signal thebeginning of a new age of peace and friendship between Mewmans and monsters.Comet’s particular brand of racism was the (not really) “benevolent” kind. Thekind of benevolent racism that believes in noble savages and ExceptionalMonsters and “separate, but equal.” Which is to say, still hella racist.  (I don’t have a hard head canon for why Toffeekilled her, not yet. I’m still hoping the show will address that directly.)

- Star (is not a past Queen of Mewni, but she’s on here anyways)was originally left-handed, but when she was about seven years old, she brokeher arm while playing (Let’s be real, given the stuff we know she got up topre-S1, she probably wound up with broken bones at least a couple of times).Her mother let the break heal naturally rather than heal it with magic to tryto teach Star a lesson about being reckless (And because healing magic can bekind of dicey and Moon isn’t an expert, but she told Star it was to teach her alesson about recklessness). One of the consequences was that Star had to learnto write with her right hand while she had the cast on, and couldn’t reallywrite with her left hand anymore even after the cast came off. She still usesher left hand for plenty of stuff, and is still left-side dominant, but shewrites with her right hand nowadays.

(Theissue muddling this is that pretty much anyone who’s left-handed has to learnhow to do certain things with their weak hand. I’m left-handed, and I can tellyou that the average left-hander uses their right hand for more things than theaverage right-hander uses their left hand for.)

[ritamcgee]

How To Get Your Ex Boyfriend Back Paragraph Amazing Cool Tips

Everything you are trying to get an ex back.After you focus on the person qualified to give her some time and again.I know this probably seems like she is still angry and hurt, and doesn't want to be appropriate in a short amount of space for a relationship counsellor.Some suggestions to help you to get an ex boyfriend back or getting an ex back and forth, who is really tempting to just be optimistic.

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Pull Your Ex Back Questions

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Will My Ex Come Back After 7 Months

[sarahburness]

How to Break Free from the Past and Start Feeling Good Enough

“My biggest fear is that I’m not good enough. I have this voice in my head that I’ve been battling for years that says, ‘You’re not really talented enough. You don’t really deserve this.’ ” ~Rachel Platten

When we’re continually surrounded by unrealistic beauty standards in the media and highlight reels of others’ success on social media, it’s no surprise that many of us feel like we don’t measure up or fit the ideals of perfection.

At some point in our lives maybe we were rejected for the color of our skin, the shape of our bodies, or for the way we looked, and we decided that we were somehow separate from the world.

These events can be detrimental to the beliefs we hold about ourselves and turn into thought patterns that continually chip away at our self-esteem.

For me, the feeling of not being good enough started in my early childhood. My older sister looked like she’d stepped off the catwalk, and she was extremely academic. I, on the other hand, consistently got low grades at school and was rarely complimented for my chubby appearance.

My feelings of low self-worth continued when I started high school. I was the only Indian girl at my school and was constantly bullied for my skin color, my religion, and being ‘different.’ Kids would throw things at me on the bus and push me around in the hallway. I started to hate who I was and the color of my skin and felt even less attractive than I did to begin with.

As I reached my teens, I would jump from one relationship to the next, hoping that validation from a boyfriend would somehow make me feel better about myself, but it didn’t. The highs were short-lived, and those relationships soon spiralled into a cycle of rejection, which made me feel even more unworthy.

Like me, maybe you too experienced a string of events while growing up that made you feel like you weren’t good enough. Whatever the experience was, no matter how trivial, when we have low self-worth, our internal dialogue keeps it alive, like an echo that continually reverts to unresolved traumas long after they have passed.

Most of us don’t enjoy digging to the root of our beliefs and delving into why we think, feel, and act the way we do; instead, we’re wired to sweep things under the carpet and use alcohol, food, drugs, or sex as crutches to help us to mask our emotions and maintain our sanity.

It can feel unnerving to unearth years of buried emotions and take a trip down memory lane to explore painful events, but to break free from low self-worth it’s vital for us to understand what parts of us require healing. Otherwise, it’s like going to a doctor with a pain in our tummy and asking them not to take a scan to determine its cause.

The way we feel about ourselves on the inside directly influences what we will create for ourselves on the outside. If we don’t feel good enough when we’re in the privacy of our own thoughts, it often impacts the quality of our relationships, the level of our financial success, and the amount of love, health, and joy we allow ourselves to experience in our day-to-day lives.

Many of us trap ourselves by looking at our lives through a lens of low self-esteem and telling ourselves stories based on outdated perceptions of past events.

For a long time, I clung to the story of how I’d been a victim. I believed I had no control over what had happened to me—the abuse, the bullying, the heartbreaks, and the rejection. I would pity myself for having to endure all the events that had played out in my life.

Instead of believing I had the power to take responsibility, I allowed past events to define who I was and how I saw myself, because I didn’t have the knowledge, awareness, or tools to know any differently.

I was taught the importance of focusing on my education, finding someone to marry, and how to build a home, but I wasn’t taught resilience, I wasn’t taught about unconditional love or self-acceptance, and I wasn’t taught how to deal with life’s challenges.

I wanted more from my life, but the story I told myself made me believe I wasn’t worthy of having it and that it just wasn’t going to be my fate. I would replay events in my mind and continuously felt like things were happening to me. I couldn’t see that the events were happening for me.

If I hadn’t been bullied, I wouldn’t have built resilience. If I hadn’t been abused, I wouldn’t have developed compassion and empathy. If I hadn’t have been abandoned, I wouldn’t have the drive and ambition to be independent.

When I recognized all I’d gained from my past, I was able to shift my perception and start seeing myself not as a victim but as someone who was strong and empowered. I began to re-frame my experiences.

Knowing I’d been through hardship helped me to recognize that I had an inner strength to overcome challenges, and my strong sense of compassion and empathy toward others allowed me to recognize my ability to be emotionally intelligent. Seeing the gifts in my challenges allowed me to view myself in a more empowered way, and as a result, I started showing up in the world differently.

It’s easy for me to see this now that I’ve moved through my story, but when I was in a war with myself I found it difficult to embrace the lessons.

It’s hard to appreciate the painful events that have plagued your life and destroyed any ounce of self-esteem you had. It’s easier to blame the world than accept that although you may not have deserved what happened to you, it happened, and that the only choice you now have is to pick up the pieces and move beyond it.

Most of us struggle to move beyond our stories and continue replaying them repeatedly in our minds, which only reinforces our beliefs into our reality. The more we replay our negative story in our minds, the more we continue to manifest the same events—until eventually we get fed up of living life on a loop and are desperate to break free.

We may believe we don’t have the power to reshape our stories because they are so deeply ingrained into who we are and how we respond to situations, but we do. And when we rewrite our stories, we break free from our past and transform our lives.

If you would like to release your feelings of low self-worth and shift the energy you put into the world, this powerful exercise can help.

Story Time

Take a journal and write down the story of your life.

How do you define yourself?

Is your story full of your greatest achievements and happiest moments? Or are you listing down all the bad things that have happened to you and how unhappy you are?

When you pen down your thoughts you’ll instantly get insights into how you currently view yourself.

Are you able to spot any common patterns? Is there a recurring theme of rejection, shame, or resentment? Are you blaming specific people or events for how your life has panned out?

You’ll soon get valuable clues on what beliefs or experiences are dictating your story, and how you choose to view your life.

Now, journal your answers to the following questions:

What did those experiences help you to learn?

What skills have you gained because of those experiences?

How can you apply those lessons and skills to your current life?

If you could go back in time, what would you change about those events? Or do differently?

Are you ready to let those experiences go? And if not, how does it serve you to hold onto those experiences or feelings?

With this newfound awareness, I’d like you to re-write your past story, and see if the language you are using to describe your past has shifted.

Often, when we look back on our past with a newfound perspective, we’re able to re-frame our negative experiences into positive lessons that have shaped the person we are today.

Without our experiences, we wouldn’t be blessed with the wisdom that we’ve gained because of them, and when we allow ourselves to move into a space of gratitude for all that we’ve learned, we automatically shift away from feeling like a victim and reclaim our power.

Remember, you, as much as anybody in this universe, have the power to change the direction of your future. You just need to be willing to let go of what no longer serves you.

About Pooja Thaleshwar

Pooja Thaleshwar is an intuitive energy healer, self-worth expert and founder of Emotional Expert. Her mission is to inspire and empower women to break free from the chains of low self-esteem and to step into their power so they can live a life they love. If you want to let go of what’s holding you back, download her free guide here: www.emotionalexpert.com.

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from Tiny Buddha https://tinybuddha.com/blog/how-to-break-free-from-the-past-and-start-feeling-good-enough/

[samuelfields]

A Divorce Ruined My Life, But I Clawed My Way Back

Divorce is one of the worst destroyers of wealth. May you never have to go through one. Love birds beware. The following is a guest post from FS reader and medical doctor, Xrayvsn.

Divorce.

Few words in the English language can elicit as negative a visceral response as that of divorce.

Despite its increasing prevalence in society, stories of divorce and the subsequent impact on one’s finances are rarely discussed in the personal finance community.

Like the subject of money, there seems to be an unspoken rule that divorce is a taboo subject and should not be discussed by members of polite society.

I think that by keeping stories of divorce, along with the financial and emotional tolls that accompany it, private, we are losing a wonderful opportunity to benefit the greater good.

Divorce ranks near the top of potential obstacles that can derail one off the path to financial success.

Years and years of savings and investing can disappear in a blink of an eye, leaving a divorcee reeling and in a financial tailspin.

Because it is often not talked about publicly, many individuals feel isolated and have the daunting task of rebuilding their lives without guidance.

In the Holmes-Rahe Life Stress Inventory scale, divorce is only second to death of a spouse in terms of the negative impact it has on an individual.

In a hope to break this cycle of silence and isolation, I share the story of my divorce and the emotional and financial roller coaster I was put on so that someone in a similar predicament can gain solace that there is indeed light at the end of a seemingly endless dark tunnel.

The Most Contested Divorce Ever

“This was the most contested divorce I have ever presided over.”

That is certainly not a line you ever wish to hear from a very senior chancery judge as he is announcing the divorce decree.

Unfortunately that was exactly what I heard that day, and I have no doubt that it was the truth, for every person I have since shared this story with has agreed that mine was indeed a divorce for the ages.

My cultural background is Indian and although I am about as “Americanized” as you can get, having come to the US during my first year of life, the traditions from that culture were pervasive throughout my childhood, courtesy of my parents.

My father was a physician (Internal Medicine) who married my mother almost sight unseen as part of an arranged marriage.

Arranged marriages are steeped with Indian tradition dating back hundreds of years.

Marriage in the old country was often looked at as a business arrangement as families sought to combine with other families to maintain or improve their stature in society.

Arranged marriage worked out for my parents as they had a long and happy marriage of 19 years until my dad passed away from pancreatic cancer at the age of 50.

Fast-forward now a little over a quarter of a century after my first steps on American soil and you now find me entering my final year of radiology residency.

Although there have always been casual talks from my mother about me “finding some nice Indian girl to marry” for several years prior, it was the fact that I was about to become a “real doctor” that seemed to serve as a wakeup call for her.

I truly believe that my mother felt once some real doctor money started rolling in I would be lost to the lifestyle associated with it and the likelihood that she would have an Indian daughter-in-law would be severely reduced.

My mother then enlisted the help of “her global network” to actively try and find me a suitable girl to marry before the opportunity slipped away.

This global search finally produced what they deemed a “suitable match” for me.

This girl was two years younger than me, who was brought up in England and, like me, was a physician (somehow I think this was the only criteria it took for the matchmakers to give their endorsement even though they said they matched our birth horoscope charts as well).

Trying to appease my mother, I reluctantly agreed to see where this could possible take me.

We communicated for approximately three months through emails and phone calls and then it was decided that we should meet in person.

Originally we had both agreed that this would be a no-pressure introduction.

I had expressed concern previously over the phone with her that I would likely be subject to intense pressure from both our families to go ahead and proceed with the marriage from the very first moment we met.

She assured me that this would not be the case.

Tying The Arranged Knot

It was the one-year anniversary of 9/11 when she arrived on American soil.

Members from both families descended to my home and promptly placed me in a pressure cooker type situation, imploring me to go ahead and proceed with the first step of an Indian marriage by undergoing a formal registration with her.

I reluctantly caved in to this pressure and not only were we officially registered later that week, but soon after we officially entered the bond of marriage on November 1st, less than two months from our initial meeting.

I was 31 years old and she was 29 at the time.

Unlike fairytales where the protagonist gets rewarded for taking a leap of faith, my leap caused me to jump off a cliff without a parachute.

Trouble In Paradise

Early in the marriage there were troubling signs that cropped up that made me doubt the veracity of this person being a “perfect match.”

I had arranged for her to start in my radiology residency program by agreeing to stay on as faculty during the course of her training (four years).

Things that I will not elaborate on happened however and, within two months of starting this coveted radiology residency spot, she was dismissed from the program.

This created much strife between us as I had vouched for her in the first place and the unceremonious way she was ejected from the program left her with much disdain, primarily directed at me as I continued to have success in my career.

Throughout the remainder of the marriage she would try numerous times to get back into any residency program, regardless of specialty, but was always denied due to the black marks that were now plastered all over her medical records.

Family members, and myself, thought that perhaps starting a family could take her mind off her career troubles and she could instead move on by concentrating on being a mother.

Therefore in 2005 we welcomed our only child, a daughter, into the world.

I thought surely being a mother would give her a sense of renewed purpose in life and reduce the angst she felt of a medical career cut short.

I was mistaken. In fact things worsened as I saw more behavioral issues start to crop up in day-to-day life.

In Indian custom divorce is shunned upon and, as such, quite a rare occurrence. Because of this cultural pressure, I endured my marriage as long as I could.

Another reason why I tolerated such an awful marriage for as long as I did was because of my daughter.

I did not want her to be a product of divorce if I could help it.

It seemed however that even I could not withstand the depths that my marriage sank to, as the behavioral changes of my wife got increasingly problematic.

The Beginning Of The End

After eight years, which felt like pure hell, I decided that I could no longer remain married and I filed for divorce.

Part of the reason I decided to file was a close friend I confided in about the situation told me that I was actually causing more harm to my daughter by staying in an unloving and quite tumultuous marriage and having her witness it firsthand.

In February 2010 I officially signed the paperwork needed for divorce proceedings.

This act apparently woke up the sleeping giant that was my wife and a truly vindictive person emerged.

As was previously referenced, the divorce proceedings were lengthy and highly contentious.

My wife found an unscrupulous lawyer who saw me as having “deep pockets” being a successful physician in the community and between the two of them they fabricated so many allegations that I had to defend.

In this watered down version of what truly happened, all I can say is I had to defend myself across multiple court jurisdictions during these proceedings, including juvenile court and federal court, constantly being bombarded with the frivolous allegations this nightmare pairing of two people kept conjuring up.

Nothing stuck or held true with their accusations but since they never received any reprimand or financial disincentive, they continued to carry on unfazed.

The divorce was finalized 13 months from the date of filing and required numerous lengthy hearings throughout.

Because of the lengthy and contentious nature of the divorce, just the legal fees I accumulated alone were staggering.

I was hemorrhaging money each month as all money coming in would be earmarked for my legal defense.

When all was said and done, the damage to my net worth breached $850k:

$300k+ for my own attorney fees.

The entire value of our 401k ($140k). The judge awarded her the entire amount to balance the $125k worth of shares I had in my office practice that I kept.

The entire value of my Health Savings Account ($25k).

Alimony for 3 years: $75,600.

Child Support for 6 years before I gained custody of my daughter back: $151,200.

Equity in two condominiums ($60k).

$100k cash due 30 days after divorce decree to offset her legal costs.

By this time I had completely depleted my savings and had to pay using credit card access checks.

“Do you know why divorces are so expensive? Because they are worth it.” – Willie Nelson

I was left with the marital home which was underwater with respect to the mortgage balance due to the housing crisis that had just occurred as well as my student loan debt.

I wish I could say that I completely washed my hands off of my vindictive ex when I finally divorced her, but unfortunately her lawyer and her had one last parting shot at me that caused me to incur another $225k of expenses when all was said and done.

This brought the financial damages from this ill-fated arranged marriage over the 7-figure mark.

Climbing Back Up The Cliff With Broken Legs

I was truly financially devastated and, at the end of a very painful and emotionally intense chapter of my life, I was running on fumes.

I could have called it quits and fully complete the death spiral I was currently on (believe me I came close on more than one occasion).

But something kept a small spark going in me and that, coupled with the fact that I did not want to give my ex-wife any more satisfaction from seeing me fail, motivated me to pick myself up from the rubble and build anew.

I was about to turn 40 a month after my divorce was finalized.

I knew that I had to do something drastic that would allow me to retire at all, let alone early, as I was essentially starting from square one again.

It was at this financial low point that I saw the financial light.

I developed a keen interest in personal finance, frequenting sites such the Bogleheads, and later Financial Samurai.

I would voraciously read through personal finance books that helped shed light on the financial mistakes I have made in the past so I would not repeat them in the future.

As I employed the tried and true methods championed by these personal finance giants, I not only saw my net worth grow to its pre-divorce levels, but I quickly saw it surpass it by leaps and bounds.

The best revenge on someone who has caused you harm is to show that person that, despite his or her best shot at you, you not only survived but are now flourishing.

I decided to throw all extra cash coming into my household to pay down what remaining debt I had, and became completely debt free April 2015.

I was especially proud of this achievement, as it was just a mere 4 years after I had just experienced my financial lowest point.

By following the principles of saving, living below your means, and avoiding lifestyle creep, I positioned myself to my current financial standing where many would say I have already achieved financial independence status at the age of 47.

I have shared a version of this story on my blog as part of my multipart series, “I Made Every Mistake In The Book” and have received so much love and support from that particular post that I thought others may receive similar benefit.

I therefore opened my platform for readers to share their divorce stories (anonymous or not) in the Divorce and Fire series I created.

Every participant has written back to me expressing the gratitude of being able to release something that he or she had been bottling up inside as well as from receiving encouraging words of support from other commentators.

Advice Before Getting Married

1) Be on the same financial page. It is of utmost importance to find a life long partner that has your same financial beliefs. If one is a saver and the other is a spender you will never make any financial headway, much like a colander will never fill with water despite how much you pour into it.

2) No shame in a prenuptial agreement. A prenuptial agreement should be strongly considered, especially if one partner is bringing in a disproportionate amount of assets into the marriage of if there are prior children involved (“blended marriage”).

3) Seek premarital financial counseling. Premarital financial counseling may help bring to light concerns from both parties that can be addressed prior to combining finances.

4) Do not cave into familial/cultural pressures. You are the one that will be living day to day with this person, not them. By trying to appease others like I did, you are putting your own emotional health at risk if you were forced into something you felt inside was wrong.

Thanks for reading. -Xrayvsn

Related posts:

Wedding Rules To Follow If You Don’t Want To End Up Broke And Alone

Financial Dependence Is The Worst: Why Each Spouse Should Have Their Own Funds

Readers, anybody go through a contentious divorce? What are some lessons you’ve learned? What would you do over again besides never marrying that person? Is marriage overrated?

The post A Divorce Ruined My Life, But I Clawed My Way Back appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from Finance https://www.financialsamurai.com/divorce-ruined-my-life/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[mcjoelcain]

A Divorce Ruined My Life, But I Clawed My Way Back

Divorce is one of the worst destroyers of wealth. May you never have to go through one. Love birds beware. The following is a guest post from FS reader and medical doctor, Xrayvsn.

Divorce.

Few words in the English language can elicit as negative a visceral response as that of divorce.

Despite its increasing prevalence in society, stories of divorce and the subsequent impact on one’s finances are rarely discussed in the personal finance community.

Like the subject of money, there seems to be an unspoken rule that divorce is a taboo subject and should not be discussed by members of polite society.

I think that by keeping stories of divorce, along with the financial and emotional tolls that accompany it, private, we are losing a wonderful opportunity to benefit the greater good.

Divorce ranks near the top of potential obstacles that can derail one off the path to financial success.

Years and years of savings and investing can disappear in a blink of an eye, leaving a divorcee reeling and in a financial tailspin.

Because it is often not talked about publicly, many individuals feel isolated and have the daunting task of rebuilding their lives without guidance.

In the Holmes-Rahe Life Stress Inventory scale, divorce is only second to death of a spouse in terms of the negative impact it has on an individual.

In a hope to break this cycle of silence and isolation, I share the story of my divorce and the emotional and financial roller coaster I was put on so that someone in a similar predicament can gain solace that there is indeed light at the end of a seemingly endless dark tunnel.

The Most Contested Divorce Ever

“This was the most contested divorce I have ever presided over.”

That is certainly not a line you ever wish to hear from a very senior chancery judge as he is announcing the divorce decree.

Unfortunately that was exactly what I heard that day, and I have no doubt that it was the truth, for every person I have since shared this story with has agreed that mine was indeed a divorce for the ages.

My cultural background is Indian and although I am about as “Americanized” as you can get, having come to the US during my first year of life, the traditions from that culture were pervasive throughout my childhood, courtesy of my parents.

My father was a physician (Internal Medicine) who married my mother almost sight unseen as part of an arranged marriage.

Arranged marriages are steeped with Indian tradition dating back hundreds of years.

Marriage in the old country was often looked at as a business arrangement as families sought to combine with other families to maintain or improve their stature in society.

Arranged marriage worked out for my parents as they had a long and happy marriage of 19 years until my dad passed away from pancreatic cancer at the age of 50.

Fast-forward now a little over a quarter of a century after my first steps on American soil and you now find me entering my final year of radiology residency.

Although there have always been casual talks from my mother about me “finding some nice Indian girl to marry” for several years prior, it was the fact that I was about to become a “real doctor” that seemed to serve as a wakeup call for her.

I truly believe that my mother felt once some real doctor money started rolling in I would be lost to the lifestyle associated with it and the likelihood that she would have an Indian daughter-in-law would be severely reduced.

My mother then enlisted the help of “her global network” to actively try and find me a suitable girl to marry before the opportunity slipped away.

This global search finally produced what they deemed a “suitable match” for me.

This girl was two years younger than me, who was brought up in England and, like me, was a physician (somehow I think this was the only criteria it took for the matchmakers to give their endorsement even though they said they matched our birth horoscope charts as well).

Trying to appease my mother, I reluctantly agreed to see where this could possible take me.

We communicated for approximately three months through emails and phone calls and then it was decided that we should meet in person.

Originally we had both agreed that this would be a no-pressure introduction.

I had expressed concern previously over the phone with her that I would likely be subject to intense pressure from both our families to go ahead and proceed with the marriage from the very first moment we met.

She assured me that this would not be the case.

Tying The Arranged Knot

It was the one-year anniversary of 9/11 when she arrived on American soil.

Members from both families descended to my home and promptly placed me in a pressure cooker type situation, imploring me to go ahead and proceed with the first step of an Indian marriage by undergoing a formal registration with her.

I reluctantly caved in to this pressure and not only were we officially registered later that week, but soon after we officially entered the bond of marriage on November 1st, less than two months from our initial meeting.

I was 31 years old and she was 29 at the time.

Unlike fairytales where the protagonist gets rewarded for taking a leap of faith, my leap caused me to jump off a cliff without a parachute.

Trouble In Paradise

Early in the marriage there were troubling signs that cropped up that made me doubt the veracity of this person being a “perfect match.”

I had arranged for her to start in my radiology residency program by agreeing to stay on as faculty during the course of her training (four years).

Things that I will not elaborate on happened however and, within two months of starting this coveted radiology residency spot, she was dismissed from the program.

This created much strife between us as I had vouched for her in the first place and the unceremonious way she was ejected from the program left her with much disdain, primarily directed at me as I continued to have success in my career.

Throughout the remainder of the marriage she would try numerous times to get back into any residency program, regardless of specialty, but was always denied due to the black marks that were now plastered all over her medical records.

Family members, and myself, thought that perhaps starting a family could take her mind off her career troubles and she could instead move on by concentrating on being a mother.

Therefore in 2005 we welcomed our only child, a daughter, into the world.

I thought surely being a mother would give her a sense of renewed purpose in life and reduce the angst she felt of a medical career cut short.

I was mistaken. In fact things worsened as I saw more behavioral issues start to crop up in day-to-day life.

In Indian custom divorce is shunned upon and, as such, quite a rare occurrence. Because of this cultural pressure, I endured my marriage as long as I could.

Another reason why I tolerated such an awful marriage for as long as I did was because of my daughter.

I did not want her to be a product of divorce if I could help it.

It seemed however that even I could not withstand the depths that my marriage sank to, as the behavioral changes of my wife got increasingly problematic.

The Beginning Of The End

After eight years, which felt like pure hell, I decided that I could no longer remain married and I filed for divorce.

Part of the reason I decided to file was a close friend I confided in about the situation told me that I was actually causing more harm to my daughter by staying in an unloving and quite tumultuous marriage and having her witness it firsthand.

In February 2010 I officially signed the paperwork needed for divorce proceedings.

This act apparently woke up the sleeping giant that was my wife and a truly vindictive person emerged.

As was previously referenced, the divorce proceedings were lengthy and highly contentious.

My wife found an unscrupulous lawyer who saw me as having “deep pockets” being a successful physician in the community and between the two of them they fabricated so many allegations that I had to defend.

In this watered down version of what truly happened, all I can say is I had to defend myself across multiple court jurisdictions during these proceedings, including juvenile court and federal court, constantly being bombarded with the frivolous allegations this nightmare pairing of two people kept conjuring up.

Nothing stuck or held true with their accusations but since they never received any reprimand or financial disincentive, they continued to carry on unfazed.

The divorce was finalized 13 months from the date of filing and required numerous lengthy hearings throughout.

Because of the lengthy and contentious nature of the divorce, just the legal fees I accumulated alone were staggering.

I was hemorrhaging money each month as all money coming in would be earmarked for my legal defense.

When all was said and done, the damage to my net worth breached $850k:

$300k+ for my own attorney fees.

The entire value of our 401k ($140k). The judge awarded her the entire amount to balance the $125k worth of shares I had in my office practice that I kept.

The entire value of my Health Savings Account ($25k).

Alimony for 3 years: $75,600.

Child Support for 6 years before I gained custody of my daughter back: $151,200.

Equity in two condominiums ($60k).

$100k cash due 30 days after divorce decree to offset her legal costs.

By this time I had completely depleted my savings and had to pay using credit card access checks.

“Do you know why divorces are so expensive? Because they are worth it.” – Willie Nelson

I was left with the marital home which was underwater with respect to the mortgage balance due to the housing crisis that had just occurred as well as my student loan debt.

I wish I could say that I completely washed my hands off of my vindictive ex when I finally divorced her, but unfortunately her lawyer and her had one last parting shot at me that caused me to incur another $225k of expenses when all was said and done.

This brought the financial damages from this ill-fated arranged marriage over the 7-figure mark.

Climbing Back Up The Cliff With Broken Legs

I was truly financially devastated and, at the end of a very painful and emotionally intense chapter of my life, I was running on fumes.

I could have called it quits and fully complete the death spiral I was currently on (believe me I came close on more than one occasion).

But something kept a small spark going in me and that, coupled with the fact that I did not want to give my ex-wife any more satisfaction from seeing me fail, motivated me to pick myself up from the rubble and build anew.

I was about to turn 40 a month after my divorce was finalized.

I knew that I had to do something drastic that would allow me to retire at all, let alone early, as I was essentially starting from square one again.

It was at this financial low point that I saw the financial light.

I developed a keen interest in personal finance, frequenting sites such the Bogleheads, and later Financial Samurai.

I would voraciously read through personal finance books that helped shed light on the financial mistakes I have made in the past so I would not repeat them in the future.

As I employed the tried and true methods championed by these personal finance giants, I not only saw my net worth grow to its pre-divorce levels, but I quickly saw it surpass it by leaps and bounds.

The best revenge on someone who has caused you harm is to show that person that, despite his or her best shot at you, you not only survived but are now flourishing.

I decided to throw all extra cash coming into my household to pay down what remaining debt I had, and became completely debt free April 2015.

I was especially proud of this achievement, as it was just a mere 4 years after I had just experienced my financial lowest point.

By following the principles of saving, living below your means, and avoiding lifestyle creep, I positioned myself to my current financial standing where many would say I have already achieved financial independence status at the age of 47.

I have shared a version of this story on my blog as part of my multipart series, “I Made Every Mistake In The Book” and have received so much love and support from that particular post that I thought others may receive similar benefit.

I therefore opened my platform for readers to share their divorce stories (anonymous or not) in the Divorce and Fire series I created.

Every participant has written back to me expressing the gratitude of being able to release something that he or she had been bottling up inside as well as from receiving encouraging words of support from other commentators.

Advice Before Getting Married

1) Be on the same financial page. It is of utmost importance to find a life long partner that has your same financial beliefs. If one is a saver and the other is a spender you will never make any financial headway, much like a colander will never fill with water despite how much you pour into it.

2) No shame in a prenuptial agreement. A prenuptial agreement should be strongly considered, especially if one partner is bringing in a disproportionate amount of assets into the marriage of if there are prior children involved (“blended marriage”).

3) Seek premarital financial counseling. Premarital financial counseling may help bring to light concerns from both parties that can be addressed prior to combining finances.

4) Do not cave into familial/cultural pressures. You are the one that will be living day to day with this person, not them. By trying to appease others like I did, you are putting your own emotional health at risk if you were forced into something you felt inside was wrong.

Thanks for reading. -Xrayvsn

Related posts:

Wedding Rules To Follow If You Don’t Want To End Up Broke And Alone

Financial Dependence Is The Worst: Why Each Spouse Should Have Their Own Funds

Readers, anybody go through a contentious divorce? What are some lessons you’ve learned? What would you do over again besides never marrying that person? Is marriage overrated?

The post A Divorce Ruined My Life, But I Clawed My Way Back appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from Money https://www.financialsamurai.com/divorce-ruined-my-life/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[digitalworldposts-blog]

Sadness to Silver-lining (Pt.2)

It is no secret that self-love is entirely necessary to live a happy life. Both internally and externally. The old saying goes something like, “You can’t expect yourself to be able to love someone else, if first you do not love yourself.” That resonated with me years ago, when I understood that I wasn’t going to be capable of happiness and healthiness until I identified that with myself.

 I won’t make this long or boring, however I believe it’s important to talk about traumatic situations and unpack unhealthy extremities in order to raise awareness, as well as work through the healing process of acceptance and forgiveness. I also believe it to be necessary that I unpack the honest truth of what those times in my life felt like. What I am referring to, are my first two relationships. Both of them being almost equally as horrible, traumatizing, threatening and debilitating to function in. 

{In a Nutshell} I met my first boyfriend when I was in High School, at a party. It was actually the summer right after Freshman year and before Sophomore year, I saw him from across the party and we locked eyes accidentally, he then chugged a Brisk water bottle full of Vodka in hopes to look tough and try to impress me (whatever, dumb). A few days later he found me on Twitter and direct messaged me, asking if I remember seeing him at the party, and our conversation began there. That moment in time was a very trivial moment for me looking back, because after that night my life was never entirely the same. We texted and hung out for a few months before we began dating. My first real boyfriend.

 Once we eventually started dating, it was only a month into the relationship and I found out from my ex-best friend that he had cheated on me. Now pause, when I say the term cheating you assume it was a physical altercation, which unbeknownst to me was actually not the case, but instead was texting another girl and sending her highly inappropriate messages and remarks. I remember sitting on my couch with my Dad, watching American Horror Story: Coven and the episode where Stevie Nicks appears and starts playing a song was the very moment I got that text. Which is also ironic because in a a moment, on a night where I felt completely devastated, hurt and confused, that was the same night I discovered Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac, and that relationship is still absolutely beautiful and ever-growing. 

Long story short, I ignorantly forgave him through trail and tribulation of manipulation and he reeled me back in. That was a defining moment for him too, at that moment he knew he could do it again, and knew I was too blind and naive to actually leave (though I had threatened it many times). I was 15 when I met him. I thought I was in love just like everyone when they get their first boyfriend. My parents saw the writing on the wall and they were legitimately scared for my life. Thinking back to it, if I was in their position I would have done the same thing. All my life, my parents have set a prominent example for what True Love looks like. They have been married for almost 27 years and have embedded respect, honestly and ordinance into our family dynamic ever since I can remember. They couldn’t possibly understand why their daughter, who most-definitely knew better, was subjecting herself to so much less. I wish I would’ve listened to them sooner because it is true, your parents do in fact know what’t best for you, despite the efforts of always hoping they’d secretly be wrong. 

Two and a half years went by; replaying that exact same cycle practically on a loop. Cheat. Break up. Manipulate. Forgive. I felt so trapped in the unhappiness of my life, it wasn’t until my mom brought my obvious unhappiness to my attention and asked if I wanted counseling. Of course I responded no. because that would mean something was wrong with me? What if someone looks at me differently? Wrong. Wrong. The stigma against asking for help made its mark and controlled my decision. It wasn’t until a few days later I realized she was right, and I wanted help. I wanted to know why I felt this way. I began going to a therapist. I had one session with her and I felt like I had completely and instantly shed layers upon layers of skin off. She helped me recognize the problem in less than an hour. One time. I left her office feeling empowered but also foolish. How could I have let someone so horrific control my life for so long? I left her office and broke up with him for good. It was reviving to say the least.

Around 5 months later, summer before my Freshman year at Ball State, I met this kid who was a mutual friend of my cousins. I had no interest in him whatsoever, but we kept running into him and seeing him places and eventually we started hanging out. It was very slow and subtle, and then very much all at once. There wasn’t really an in-between, at one point I just had no idea what was going on or how we had gotten there. I had absolutely zero interest in anything serious and I made that clear. But he seemed so normal at first, and we were just friends. Like i said, life happened and all of a sudden we’re practically dating. I’m a little thrown off at first because I’m thinking “Okay, well I’m a year older than him, I’m about to go to college, is this the right situation for me to be in?” My parents weren’t a huge fan, so their opinion weighed on mine too, just not enough. I unfortunately kept dating him and found myself in a very awful situation. I was with someone who was not only completely immature, insecure, possessive, jealous, controlling and threatening. And I had no idea how to get out of it. I stayed in that relationship the majority of my first semester, and as you can probably guess it was a very rough time in my life. Pushing people out of my life, angry all the time, one turns into two when it comes to jealousy and insecurity, and I was failing multiple classes. I tried breaking up with him for over 3 months straight. He would drive to Muncie. He would show up. Call me so many times my phone would freeze. And worst of all, threaten me day in and day out that if I ever left, he would have to kill himself because there would just be no will for him to live anymore. This manipulation kept me in this relationship much longer than I should’ve ever been. I felt so guilty and helpless, as if his entire life was in my hands and the outcome would be based off the decisions I made. I had realized I attracted nearly the exact same person into my life and he was going to have me if it was the last thing he had, he was going to do and say whatever he needed to in order to keep me where he wanted me. I felt undeniably trapped and miserable for months, countless times where he would literally say he was doing it and make me think he was dead, turn off his phone and location and be completely untraceable, as I’m in Muncie and he is in Fort Wayne. Countless times where I had to walk to the stadium as a freshman on a college campus to get my car and drive an hour and a half north in the middle of the night just to see if he was alive or not. He knew what to say and how to say it to make me do things I wouldn’t normally do. Looking back I can see now how dysfunctional and psychotic it really was, all of it. 

It wasn’t until one day when he was trying to get ahold of me, frantically and demandingly, I declined everything that came my way and turned to Facebook. Needed to go somewhere via the Internet where I could forget about my life for a little bit, because who doesn’t love a good Tasty video am i right? As I opened Facebook, the first thing on my timeline was a video posted by a Facebook Campaign called OneLove, the video was called Love Labyrinth. I watched and learned {literally}. My eyes were opened to new depths that I had never seen before. To this day, I solemnly praise this organization for redirecting my life and educating me in the most prominent way possible. I would be a completely different person today, had I not gotten on Facebook and clicked on the link that brought me to this Youtube video. Give it a watch. If you suffer from any sort of relationship trauma, emotional, mental or physical abuse, please watch at your own risk. It can be very emotionally telling and truthful.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_r72v3LA44