#loosing her health and then her friends and sense of self and then her wings and then her life-

[hopalongfairywren]

I think about c!Hannah -> I am consumed by grief -> repeat

[yellowsugarwords]

Hi me again, As the #1 Jane lover I was incredibly bitter about how she was handled in s3, so if its okay with you I would love to Read a drabble/blurb(?) about Clem, AJ and Jane post s3! Thank you as always 💛

enjoy my friend!!!! this was so so fun to write. I love writing sappy stuff :) I decided to turn this into a little season 4 fic!! I hope you enjoyyyy 💛💛

𝙄𝙛 𝙄𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨

「  TWDG: Jane, Clementine, and AJ  」

Summary: Based in season 4, Jane, Clementine, and AJ discuss the future and what happens in a worst-case scenario. TW: m*scarriage mention.

Words: 1.4k words [ ⏱︎ 8 mins ]

━━━━━━ ₊˚⊹

“I hate it when you drive.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. I was driving eons before you.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re better.” Clem teased, smirking.

AJ groaned from the backseat, silencing their playful bickering. “It’s so unfair. Why do you two get to drive, and I can’t?”

“Because you’re five, kiddo,” Jane said, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re a ways away from learning how to drive.”

“Clem learned when she was thirteen. How is it that different?”

“It’s about eight years different, I’m afraid,” Clementine said, pulling her passenger mirror down. She wanted to get a read on his face, but instead watched as he stuck his tongue out at her. “I saw that.”

AJ snapped back to his normal self. “Where are we going?” He tried to change the subject.

Clementine didn’t answer, turning to Jane and briefly meeting her gaze. Jane cleared her throat and looked back at the road. “Wherever looks safe to set up camp for the night.” Clem could tell Jane was unsure.

“So, we don’t have a plan?” AJ asked, raising a brow. The girls hated how AJ was starting to develop their sense of sarcasm and wit.

“We have a plan,” Jane began. Clem could tell she was hesitant to continue. “It’s just a loose plan.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I know where we’re going, we might just wing it, a little bit.”

“Wing it?”

“Improvise.” Clementine rephrased, looking in the rearview mirror.

“Improvise?”

Clem and Jane both closed their eyes, contemplating what they were going to say. “It means we have a plan, but parts of it might change as we go.” Jane settled on.

Finally, at least momentarily, there was silence. That seemed to satisfy him. For a while, they rode in mainly silence, AJ drifting in and out of conversations that led nowhere. After what felt like hours, Jane turned down a small dirt road that led to a small campground. The fire pit didn’t look recently used, thankfully. So, after navigating the camouflaged vehicle to shield their area, the trio got out and Jane began to start their fire.

After making a mediocre attempt at a soup, AJ laid down. Using Clementine’s extra jacket as a pillow and Jane’s as a blanket, he turned away from the fire and faded into sleep.

As Jane and Clementine watched him drift off, they sat in sweet silence, relishing in the momentary peace. However, as time waned, Jane’s expression fell. She stared through the fire, watching AJ’s chest rise and fall. “Clementine, we need to talk.”

Clem turned without saying a word. The phrase always put Clementine on edge, as though she was about to hear a bombshell that would ruin her world.

Jane signed through her nose and closed her eyes. “I think we need to talk about what to do if something happens to me.”

“What do you mean?”

Jane opened her eyes but didn’t look away from the fire. She had another pregnancy scare. It was thanks to a group member who’d arrived and been killed, all in around a week. Jane barely had a chance to explore the possibility of getting to know him, let alone him being a father, before she woke up one morning bleeding through her clothes. During that time, they’d walk for up to 12 hours a day with barely any food or water. They would only rest for a few hours a day, and would only eat what little they could salvage.

She had a lot of pain and quite a bit of bleeding, but it passed over the span of a week. But how many times could she risk her health - and the well-being of the kids - before her pain didn’t pass this easily? Before she had a problem that she couldn’t fix alone? If she got sick, what would happen to Clementine and AJ? How would they survive if they were relying on her?

How did she get herself into this position again? The one she swore to never get back into.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, what would they do if she had a baby? They couldn’t handle another birth, especially not if it’s just the three of them. AJ was barely old enough to make his meals, let alone help deliver and raise a baby. And if what happened to Rebecca happened to Jane, there was no telling what could happen to all of them.

“If something happens to me, I think we need a plan.”

“What do you mean?” Clementine asked again, this time with more force.

Jane audibly sighed. “Clem-”

“Is this about him?” Clementine asked, staring through the fire at AJ, unable to look at Jane.

The woman turned to her, understanding her cold stance, then turned back. “No.” She began. She was met with silence. “Well, kind of.” Clem fought the urge to roll her eyes, her icy aura returning. “Clem, I worry about what you two would do if something happened to me.”

Clem said nothing. She picked up a nearby stick and poked at the fire. Her expression remained dull. Unreadable, almost.

“I worry that you won’t have the resources to take care of yourself.”

Clementine scoffed. “You act as though I’ve never been on my own before.” Her tone was biting. “I know how to take care of myself.”

“But you’re not just yourself, anymore,” Jane said. “You have AJ now. Sure, you know how to take care of yourself, but do you know how to take care of yourself and another kid? All at the same time?”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’re practically a kid.” Clementine shot her a look, so Jane dropped it. “I just want you and AJ to have a plan in case something were to happen. In case I can’t-”

“I’m not thinking about that right now.”

“Clementine-”

“You were the one who taught me ‘what people are capable of,’ remember?” Clem snapped, cutting Jane off. There was a pang in Jane’s chest, haunted by the memory. It was the moment they had reunited with AJ, right after Kenny died, that Jane uttered those words. She’d shown Clementine the very worst of humanity, and yet here Jane was: still trying to protect her from it.

Clementine stabbed the fire once more. “Nothing surprises me anymore. I know what you always say, ‘Don’t get attached,’ so I didn’t. I get it. You don’t need to say anything more.” She abandoned her stick on the ground. “I know what you’re going to say.”

In truth, that wasn’t the goal Jane intended for this conversation. However, learning that Clementine was always on alert - always ready for a sudden change - was a relief.

So, if she was relieved, why did it still sting? Why did Jane still feel a wave of hopelessness knowing Clementine never did, and never would, fully trust her? She thought she’d wanted this - she begged for it - and now that she had it, she wished that some part of Clementine trusted her. She wished that she had earned it, even though Jane knew she hadn’t.

With that, Jane’s eyes fell to the dirt. “You’re right,” she said, voice soft. The tonal shift caused Clementine to look, only to catch Jane standing. “I should get some sleep. You too, kiddo, but I call dibs on the first shift.”

Clem smiled, glad to see that Jane had dropped the subject. At least, she had dropped it for now.

Jane wandered toward AJ, choosing to sleep near him and keep both of them warm. “And Clem,” she said, adjusting the blanket she would use as her pillow. Clem silently met her gaze. “Thanks for having this chat with me.” With a small smile, Jane rolled over, curled into her pillow, and got ready to sleep.

Clementine continued to stare at Jane until she saw a steady rhythm of breathing. Then, her attention turned to the fire.

Clem had lied. Well, only partially. She did have a plan - Clem always had a plan - in case something went wrong and Jane was no longer around, but the truth was she had gotten attached. Clementine had started to love their small life together, just the three of them trying to make it in the world.

Regardless, she understood Jane’s concern. After everything that happened to her sister, Jane had sworn she wouldn’t let anyone into her life again. But she did. Clementine knew it wasn’t a genuine attachment. Jane was only with them out of obligation. The instant Clementine was no longer a ‘kid,’ as Jane liked to say, she would probably be gone by the following sunrise. Their conversation tonight only proved that. Jane just wanted to make sure Clementine knew what the plan had always been: get them on their feet, then ditch. Clementine had never forgotten that.

However, Clem couldn’t help but wonder what started Jane’s sudden train of thought.

All the while, Jane’s eyes remained open, unable to sleep, wondering if she should ever be fully honest with the young girl.

━━━━━━ 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜!! ₊˚⊹ 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫   ♡   𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫

[rot8erconex]

🐜 Much like the person I found this on, I prefer to be the big in G/t scenarios, but not a giant.  I prefer to be a human-sized person interacting with tinies.

💡I like when super protective giants take in an abuse victim and help them heal.  Maybe it’s a normal-sized person who had to be shrunken in order to escape from their abuser, but either cannot or doesn’t want to be returned to normal size.  Maybe it’s a natural tiny who escaped from a cruel master and is now being nursed to health by a relative stranger.  Whatever it is, it results in someone who is dependent on their big, less for their physical size, but more for emotional stability.

🕸 Mostly anything that ends with tinies dying permanently.  (My gf and I have a scenario where her tiny character zips back into a locket when the moon reaches its apex in the sky, even if she died the day before.  I am completely fine with that.  I just don’t want permanent death.)

🔬In middle school, I was walking into my bedroom when my siblings - in the room below, visible from the loft - were watching the Jon Goodman Borrowers movie on Disney Channel.  Something about the scene where the main character was carrying Arrietty and her dad inside the coffee tin, set off dopamine.  I found out the movie was (loosely) based on a book, and my school had not only that book, but all but one of the sequels (It had like books 1, 2, 3, and 5.  One of the last few, but not the absolute last, was the one missing).  I inhaled them all - my favorite scene is in book 2, when the family is inside the boy’s pocket, but my favorite book is the one where they’re escaping the owners of the tiny town who want to turn them into an attraction.  But for the longest time, I didn’t realize people could be fans of concepts, just authors or series.  So instead of following this series of books up with “find more cute tiny people stories”, I followed it up with “find more books by Mary Norton”.

Fast forward a few years, and I’m writing a fanfic for a book series called the Magic of Xanth.  In the third story, I had the main character’s love interest willingly shrink herself to fit in his pocket.  At the time of writing, it made sense story-wise - she was hiding from an all-powerful demon in order to make sure the demon didn’t know she was with the main character and could protect him - but after that story arc was over, surprising even myself, I ended up writing that she enjoyed being tiny and in his pocket, so now she’d do it whenever she could get away with it.

At this point, I began to realize that a lot of self-indulgent stories I’d written had some form of tiny love interest.  A fairy born without wings, a robot AI from the future, etc.  And I began to wonder: did I like pocket-sized ladies?

I told this revelation to a friend, and she said that while she didn’t see the appeal, maybe I could try deviantART, that seemed like the right place for it.

But of course, I had no way of knowing how to search for the concept.  I think I tried literally “pocket-sized woman”.  And dA’s search results gave me...Karbo, whose work, while technically quite good, and did have the scales of size difference I liked, was decidedly more cruel than I wanted.  And almost turned me away at the outset.  If it wasn’t for the second search results.

First Touch, by KristineButterfly, here on Tumblr as @skmayor​ 

This was what I was looking for!  I was, admittedly, a bit too aggressive when I first entered the community, and as far as I understand it, this artist was on hiatus at the time I found her work.

But from dA’s “more like this”, I found @kindii​, who did more cute art but in color!  And in Kindii’s bio I learned the term “Giant/Tiny”.  Upon searching the term, I found a few RPs, and enjoyed those for a while.

🖋 I want to see more symbiotic relationships.  Maybe a fantasy setting where the warrior has a tiny healer who he protects and she heals.  A tiny vampire whose best friend is a diabetic - she drinks his blood and then tells him how sweet it tastes, maybe even helping him find the best veins to shoot insulin into when he needs it.  Relationships where the tiny and the big are constantly doing the same thing to help the other.  A lot of the time in my own scenarios, though, this just comes off as “emotional support tiny” which is still great, but might not be read as a fully symbiotic relationship (I did write one story where this actually gets commented on by the characters themselves, but it ends nearly disastrously for the tiny).

🧪I don’t know if I have a favorite method of shrinking.  I guess it depends on the setting.  A fantasy world would do best with a potion or spell, a sci-fi setting would do well with a shrink ray, a modern setting I guess would make most sense with an illness?

I do personally like the idea where the tiny has the ability to size-shift, but there’s limits on it.  My favorite is the idea that it takes focus, which means they will always become tiny again when they lose consciousness.  Because I like the idea that they can go out into the world without being vulnerable, but still are dependent on their big.  (my gf likes the idea of, rather than herself having control of her size, I do, and that’s fun with her but I don’t know if I’d want that for my own stories?)

🪡 Borrowers are some of the best G/t!  It makes sense that a culture of tiny people would be dependent on the bigs, but still afraid of them due to their sheer size, so I guess that it’s the most logical G/t for me?

🧵Futaba from Persona 5!  Like, in-game there’s a lot of subtle hints that she wants to be smol (especially if you look at her concept art Persona, not just her final one - they were originally gonna have her sit in a giant hand.  Which on its own could just be a nod to Egypt, but alongside the other stuff is less cut and dry.)  And there’s even a scene in the dancing spin-off that directly spells it out!

Bernie from Fire Emblem: Three Houses.  In her case, I love the idea of her shrinking from a stray spell, and then just deciding that this was better than being normal-sized because she could go to class but not deal with anyone except the Professor.

Anju, specifically her Ocarina of Time iteration.  I like her Majora’s Mask personality more, but I don’t want to take that one away from her husband-to-be.

Any of the fairies from Fire Emblem Heroes, but especially Mirabilis.  It still disappoints me that they changed Norse elves into fairies in order to give them wings, but then didn’t make them small.  I know a few friends who have the opposite disappointment - that the Jötunn are not a tribe of literal giantesses.

I also love the concept of, like, being able to pull characters out of games and then they’re in the real world at the size that they appeared on screen before you pulled them out.  I’d use that power on characters who canonically have to die for the story to progress, to prevent them from actually dying without ruining the story.  Chiaki or Chihiro from Danganronpa, for example.

🏙 I generally see myself as the big in scenarios, so not really.  I guess if I had to answer, I’d say the main characters in any of the games I listed in the section above, since they’re all generally supposed to be the player’s self-insert even if they (except in FEH) have a set appearance.

📖I don’t have a fic to share yet, so I’ll just plug Violet Goes to the Beach.  The big in the story is even Midwestern!  (I am not Midwest-born but I do have a lot of Midwest mannerisms because I moved here at the age of six and a half.  I actually didn’t realize “ope” was a Midwest thing until VGttB’s author pointed that mannerism of her character out).

Questions for G/T Blogs

🐜 Would you rather be tiny or giant? You can only pick one or the other.

💡 Favorite G/T fic trope(s)?

🕸 Least favorite G/T fic trope(s)?

🔬 What lead you to the G/T community? Any particular pieces of media that got you into G/T?

🖋 What aspects do wish to see explored more in G/T fics? Any tropes or scenarios you think are underrated?

🧪 What is your favorite method of growing and/or shrinking in g/t fics? (Spells, shrink/grow rays/machines, enchanted food/drink, etc).

🪡 How do you feel about the whole “borrower” thing? Like are you love/are interested in that sort of thing, neutral, or don’t like/care for it?

🧵 What fictional character(s) would you like to see tiny?

🏙 What fictional character(s) would you like to see gigantic?

📖 Got any G/T fics and/or art you can recommend? Or perhaps any G/T fic and/or art ideas you want to share?

[waywardimpalawriter]

“Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" with Javier and can I please have a happy ending, I know it's angst prompts but.... :D Thank you!

Crazy Love

Pairing: Javier Peña x Plus Size Female Reader

Characters: Javier Peña, Steve Murphy, mentions Connie Murphy

Setting: After season one episode 7 ‘You will cry tears of blood’, five months after the events in ‘Heels’,

Rating: M (Mature), E (Explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: mentions of gun violence, almost killing a child, self hatred, smut, unprotected sex, Angry Javier (yes he needs a warning), angst, slight fluff at the end,

Summary: One slip up, reacting too quickly he could’ve ended the life of one way too young to fight the wars of old men. Thoughts filled with darkness, what if’s and self degradation. Wanting to loose himself in the only way he knows. To find because of you he can brave the dawn and the coming war.

Word count: 5,985 (with lyrics)

Notes: Thank you so much for the request sweetie, @autumnleaves1991-blog I hope you enjoy. Prompt in bold. The song used is ‘Crazy Love’ written by Van Morrison and preformed by various artists. This also a sequel to “Heel’s part 1” written some months back.

Tag List:

Forever’s: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Knuckles white with the grip he’s got on the steer wheel, eyes darting between the thin packed streets and Murphy with the baby in his arms. “What about the kid? Any ideas where to take her?”

Missing the shrug, with his eyes back on the road, “For now I’ll take her with us.” Smirk twitching his dark blond mustache with the look Javier pins him with at a stop light. “Don’t worry Javi she ain’t gonna stay with you. Poor darlin can’t live on whiskey and cigarettes. Though the parade of women might slow with her at your apartment.”

“There’s no parade jackass,” trying to focus on the road ahead and off what almost occurred three hours ago.

Subtle tick to his jaw knowing something’s bothering his partner about what went down. More to the point of how it went to shit and letting two high ranking Sicario slip through their fingers. “Wanna spill what’s eaten at you?”

“No just take care of the kid don’t need you play shrink in my head,” pulling up to the embassy, Javier kills the engine turning fully to look at Steve. “Care to share your explanation to Noonan or will you wing it?”

Shrugging Steve glances down into her sleepy eyes trying to figure out just what he’ll say. More importantly what he’s going to tell Connie. “I’m not,” looking back over at Peña seeing a raised brow. “I’ll take her home to Connie, figure out this shit as we go.”

“I’m sure Y/N would babysit,” mentioning you name cut deeply as the last month he’s put distance between the two of you. Continuing the relationship based solely on your sexual needs instead of the feeling he keeps buried.

“Doubtful, she’s working on transferring out. Packing I’m sure takes her time up right now,” seeing the scowling confusion drawing his brows down. “You knew she asked for a transfer right?”

“When?” Curses fill his mind. Directed fully at himself for letting the situation spiral out of control to the point you’ve become that notch on his bed post. Telling himself he’s going to let you go but never finding the courage to actually cut the strings. “She never mentioned taking a transfer. ”

The nights spent together you never mentioned a transfer. But then words rarely left either of your lips that’s not in passionate pleas wanting more or demands for completion. Conversations the first to go in the crumbling relationship, embraces followed not long after and the final straw added a month and a half ago. No kisses on the mouth anyway a promise you made him invoke to separate the past pleasures from the present stalemate.

Revisiting those thoughts often, Javier understood why you made the decision. One he hated but respected. Wondering most nights why you still let him inside your soft plush body instead of putting up a wall between the two of you. Shoving him out of your life fully. But then the transfer you didn’t speak of talked louder than any uttered words could.

“Two weeks ago, something about returning back to the States. Damn shame Y/N’s a fucking amazing secretary even better person. Why’d you go fuck things up for us both?” Wanting to knock some sense into Javier but a part of Steve understood the other man’s reasons for pushing you away. “Just let her go man this job she’s not fit nor can put up with the stress. I know I pushed at first but whatever you did to shover her away it’s for the best.”

“She’s a lot stronger than you know,” said more to himself than Steve. Other mans words hitting deeper than Javier would say, his fingers tightening around the leather steering wheel. “You don’t know shit Murphy.”

“I know a month ago things changed between the two of you.” Switching the baby to his other arm cradling her close to his chest. “Whatever happened she become withdrawn, stopped smiling as much,” piercing him with a hard stare. “Reverting back to the woman I first met when coming Bogota.” Glancing out the windshield Steve drag a hand over his face exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “ piece of advice either fess up explain what’s eaten at you or let her go.”

Selfishness claws at his mind wanting to keep you from leaving. From getting away not only from Columbia it’s self but from him. The realistic half needing you safe a world removed from the war starting to build back up. This afternoon’s events flash through his mind of how he almost killed a kid. A fucking kid who tried to protect the Sicario scum he chased and cornered. Would’ve had him had the kid not pulled a gun on him. The decision not to pull the trigger an easy one this time. But what about the next? Making him no better than the men he chases if he decided to take the shot so easily. Affirming those thoughts to let you go for your greater good and health.

“Javi?” Snapping fingers to gain his attention. “Deep in thought or just swimming the shallow waters?”

Scowl taking up home over his features, “Don’t worry about it doesn’t concern you.”

“Fuck you say, she’s my friend to Javi.” Shaking his blond head wondering how much pushing it’ll take before Peña would break. “Besides I think Connie has a good chance at kicking your ass if you do anymore damaged. She’s wanted to get her hooks into you for a while now.”

Almost chuckling at those words though it’s mirthless and self deprecating. “She’s next in line,” tossing the words out while starting the Jeep. Silence reigns on the drive over to their apartment, pulling up to the curb and letting Steve out.

Who pauses in the open door, “Heading to Y/N’s? Or back to the Embassy?”

“Paperwork,” impatiently waiting for Steve to shut the door.

Eager for some peace and time to think. He sees you standing in the doorway arms crossed under your generous breasts. For once actually studying your features taking in the fact you look somber, dressed in well loved jeans and baggy T-shirt. No makeup, though Javi told you a thousand times how beautiful you look without all those cosmetics painted on your face. Heart kicking up at the way your staring at him. Barely seen with you so far away but he knows there’s a softness shining in your eyes. Emotions he’s never tried to decipher in other women till you. Thoughts now run into each other, fears chasing after wanting so much but feeling undeserving.

Soft chuckle echos around the Jeep’s cabin making Javi glance at Steve, “Time better served explaining than useless paperwork.” Looking over his shoulder to find you gone, “Before it’s to late and she’s gone.” Door slamming shut, Steve leans in through the open window with a meaningful expression on his handsome face. Patting the inside slight nod of his blond head before turning to go inside leaving Javier with to many thoughts.

Pulling away from the curb happening to glance back towards the apartments catching you standing at the window. Hand pressed to the glass unreadable look on your face one he’s sure shows signs of displeasure and anger. With a blink your silhouette disappears heart clenching at the thought he’s just imagined you standing there. Another curse flies from his lip, palm forcefully slamming down on the steering column doing nothing to temper the anger boiling inside his mind. Instead Javier guns the engine taking off at a high rate of speed receiving numerous honks in irritated warning.

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

Letting the curtain fall back in place wild thumping of your heart pulsing out a rhythm that aches with every pound. Partly hating yourself for getting involved with a man incapable of having any kind of relationship other than sexual. Asking yourself why you keep letting him back into your bed, into your heart knowing it’ll just break in the end. Only one answer comes to mind and you push it firmly back into the dark abyss. Focusing on what you needed to done. Having struggled for the last two months with the decision to finally put in for a transfer home, away from Columbia and Javier Peña. Never an easy choice especially when you’ve fallen in love with a man who would never love you back.

Heavy knocking makes you jump in spot leaning against the wall by the window. Hand coming to rest against the quickly beating organ threatening to thump right outta your chest. Taking a breath trying to calm down from the freight you take small steps to eat up the distance towards the door. Another round of pounding has a scowl appearing wondering who would beat your door down at this time of evening.

“Hold your horses I’m comin’ already,” raising you voice loud enough to at least pause the noise.

Grasping the doorknob right when, “Hermosa,” his voice pulls your hand back almost as if the knob burned you with that very endearment. “Open up you can’t hide I know your there.”

“Go away Javier I’m not in the mood,” arms crossed glaring at the door. Pivoting on bare feet to track towards the kitchen going back to sorting through what your keeping and leaving behind. Freezing in place the unmistakeable sound of a key sliding into lock. Cursing the fact you never asked for the spare back and giving him one in the first place. Try as you might to make your feet move instead there rooted in spot when the door opens. “I didn't invite you in Javi turn your ass around and leave.”

Breath escaping quickly, eyes narrowing after searching the apartment he’s spent the last months in. Catching sight of half filled boxes, newspaper scattered over the coffee table, before landing on your furious features. Hands gripping wide hips, soft chin jutted out in annoyance while eyes spit anger burying the true feelings deep. “It’s true?”

“Why do you care?” Countering his words biting the inside of your cheek to keep tears from sliding coldly down your cooling skin. “Leave Javier,” exasperated and tired just wanting to move on, putting the relationship in the past.

Not two steps away his warm gun callused hand incloses around your wrist tugging and turning your plush body around to face him. “Not till you answer me.”

“We don’t talk about feelings remember Peña, your rules,” yanking your wrist free glare firmly in place.

Flinching at the harsh tone eyes scorching him with there intensity, his own somber and filled with regret. Deserving of those very words no matter how much they hurt. He moves forward for you to take one back reaching to grasp both shoulders. Taking another step out of his reach slow two step pattern finds your back pressed against the bar counter. Reminiscent of the first time you made love all those months ago. Except this time you’d stand strong push him away and not fall prey to those warm russet eyes filled with so many indescribable emotions.

“Stupid rule I never should’ve put in our relationship,” three feet of space between the two of you. Both chests heaving breaths eyes locked and searching. His eyes close drawing in your familiar scent letting it wash all the days stress clean for a single moment in time. Ear’s picking up the quick beating of your heart wishing as his eyes open a smile would bloom over those kissably soft lips.

“But you did and there’s no taking it back now,” firm stance starting to crumble under the weight of emotions filtering through his dark eyes.

Half way to reaching out his hands drop back to fist at his sides, “I’m sorry hermosa I didn’t mean…” unsure how to fix what’s broken. Never good at speaking his feelings even when the need presents its self.

I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles

And the heavens open every time she smiles

And when I come to her that's where I belong

Yet I'm running to her like a river's song

“What’d want from me Javier?” Pleading tone arms crossed to close your body off. Putting up a defense against the one man who’s managed to crumble every wall surround your heart. To starve off the bubbling emotions threatening to spill over and consume you.

Closing the small gap, callused hands cup both cheeks, fingers spread from apples to jawlines. Brushing his thumbs under your eyes his own pleading and soft ‘the puppy’ look you nicknamed it two weeks into the relationship. “To kiss you.”

Swallowing harshly, “Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?" Willing your body not to react, not to turn and place kisses to his palm. Nuzzling the warmth drawing peace from his comforting touch. “We made rules you know how I feel about kissing Javi.”

Almost two months ago things started to fall apart. Always asking yourself why you still let him into your bed and body. Part of you knowing the space carved Javier hole in your heart will never close. Not even denying the both of you those intimate kisses could change the fact he’s wormed his way through defenses long held too fall in love with your DEA agent.

“I know mi amor,” sliding one hand down from your face to wrap his arm around your thick waist. Pulling you flush into his embrace and against his body. Turning the both of you so it’s his back pressed into the counter. Savoring the softness wishing you’d hold him. Run your fingers through his hair and chase away the stress currently resurfacing with your tense posture. “I don’t want you to leave.” No truer words spoken ones that cut his very soul with the implications of what could happen if he didn’t take Steve’s advice.

Agony rips a new hole in your heart at his words, at the endearment dripping from those sinful lips. “You don’t mean that.” Eyes close to keep from staring into russet browns. Trying not to give in and foolishly hope he means what he speaks.

“I do hermosa,” eyes popping open at the barest brush of his chapped lips against yours, widen orbs find his shut, brow furrowed. “I don’t want to loose you.”

“Javier,” breathlessly whispering his name. The intensity of Javi’s declaration scares you not wanting to believe for a second his words ring true. Not when so many broken promises lay at your feet. Yet, if there’s one thing you know about Javier Peña he’s honest, never lying to you about what he wanted. Holding back sure, not letting you in those tightly held defenses of his own fuck yes, but lie to you never. Those thoughts make others chase after. Ones that scare you into thinking you’ve made a huge mistake by asking for the transfer. Could you leave his man who holds your heart? Walk away from a relationship that’s possibly just hitting a rough patch? So engrossed in those thoughts you don’t realize he’s tipping your chin up to angle your head in the prefect position to slot his mouth over yours.

Javier’s restraint having snapped with his name slipping from your bitten lips, wanting to meld the two of you together in the only way he knows how. Showing you with his body what his words couldn’t express. Javier captures your mouth in a bruising kiss filled with demands. Teeth biting at your lips, dragging plump bottom in to abuse with nibbles and soothing over with his tongue. Harsh gasp blown from your mouth giving him access to the warm cavern. Drinking from your well, tasting your flavor on his tongue always returning for more. Tangling together as his arm tightens around your soft waist.

Garnering a moan of need from deep within your chest. Attacking his mouth with your own, fingers coming into play by carding through those thick mahogany strands tugging harshly. Receiving a growl in return that vibrates down to your very core clit throbbing in response to his rough actions.

Mouths parting to gather air, “I need you hermosa please,” desperation coloring his tone foreheads resting together. The hand still cupping your cheek slides around to gently cup the back of your head. “I need…” swallowing hard, fighting to keep from taking you hard and fast right there. Burying the fear and pain, the anger and worry into your soft gentle body. Letting you sooth the demons threatening to consume his soul. But he couldn’t, promising to never show that side of himself to you.

Those thoughts in mind Javier moves in to kiss you only to chase your mouth till you place fingers over his searching lips. Seeing a spark of need in he eyes that’s closed away before fully blooming. Leading you to remember a conversation the two of you had at the on set of your relationship. Knowing what he needed and how, you step back watching his features fall with his arms to the side.

Only to have confusion replace the crestfallen expression as you tug the t-shirt up and off your body. Standing in just your panties and jeans, “I told you a long time ago Javier I’m not made of glass this body…” hands gliding up from your waist to soft tummy and generous breasts. “Won’t break if your rough with me.” Heat sparking in eyes that will him to listen, give in and take you. “If I’m staying and we work this out you’ll have to let me in.”

Each word hits him hard square in the heart, “I don’t want to hurt you cariño.”

“You already have Javier,” head dropping you go to tug your shirt back on. Only to have it ripped from your hand and tossed somewhere unseen. That soft gasp making his heart beat triple time. Strong arms wrap around your body to bring you back into his warmth. “Fix what you broke.”

There’s no gentleness to the possessive kiss Javier captures your mouth with. Large warm hands grip your plush ass to press into your tummy the thick ridge of his jeans covered erection. Low growl slipping passed parted gasping lips that angle for the right spot to draw those whimpers and moans he can never get enough of. Separating long enough to have you rip his tan button up open, little plastic disks pinging off the wall and tiled floor. Scoring your short nails over his soft tummy, toying with the button of his jeans.

“Fuck,” hissing through kiss swollen lips that attack your neck with bitting teeth. Wanting to mark each inch of you in reminder to himself of who you derive your pleasure from. “Do that again,” demanding cadence gets a soft smirk to spread over your bitten lips.

Keeping your eyes lock, breath existing quickly because of the passionate kiss. Short nails rake up his chest and leave little red lines behind. Detouring to pinch his pebbled tight nipples receiving another low growl against the skin of your collarbone. Where his mouth sucks a purpling mark laving his tongue over the bruising skin. Enjoying the shutter he feels race down your spine.

Pushing the shirt from his shoulders Javier raises his head to stare into your desire darken eyes. “Fuck me Javier till I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Simple words ignite a passion and deep seated need inside his body to claim and wreak you. Clothing becomes nothing more than obstacles in the way of having naked skin against his own. The two of your fumbling with buttons and zippers. His parting on a sigh of relief as you push the fabric to pool around his ankles. Nimble fingers brushing through course little hairs. Leading your hand to wrap around his shaft. Thick girth barely covered by your hand that you pump along heated velvet skin.

Smirking at the groaning string of Spanish curses falling from his lips. Only replaced by the pout, when he brushes your hand away. Mouth still just inches from yours brushing taking another sip from your lips. Drowning in the taste of your mouth, the feel of your plump lips against his. Devouring the pout and only breaking to whisper, “Later princesa.” Toeing off boots and soak covered feet pressing out of jeans, naked as on his born day for your eyes to devour.

Becoming insnared with his beauty far too long for Javier’s liking. Lips licked slowly watching the bob of his jutting cock. Mouth watering in want of a taste. Quick breaths expanded his soft covered muscular chest your hands itch to dust over. His handsomeness distracting you to the point a squeal issues from the back of your throat when he pulls you by the belt loops towards the couch. Skilled fingers making quick work of getting your jeans undone warm palms sliding the fabric down your body.

Javier drops back into the couch bringing you between his spread knees and placing kisses to your tummy. Nuzzling the underside of your breasts. Looking up to ensnare your vision with his own desire filled gaze. Strong arms holding you in place while eyes close, nose rubbing into your soft scantly skin resting his head on your tummy. Hands coming up to card through his hair gently this time tugging the locks and wrapping his shoulders with your arms. Emotions clogging your throat burning with the need to release the tears of mixed feelings.

Moaning head tossing back when his warm tongue peeking out to teasing the taut nipples his hands tug your panties down. Becoming impatient and ripping the thin cotton from your body. Making you gasp and look down into those desire blacken eyes you choose happily to drown in. “You’ll…” swallowing your words on a moan as those thick skilled fingers draw through your folds. Tapping your clit several times and retreating to slide inside your clinching walls.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She's got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling low down

And when I come to her when the sun goes down

Take away my trouble, take away my grief

Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

“I’ll buy you more cariño and go with you to help pick out certain ones,” giving you a cheeky wink. Groaning with the feel of slick coating his fingers, smirk in place when your hands brace on his shoulders to keep from tipping over into his arms. Pulling his fingers out to suck them clean making sure your watching his every move. The resounding whimper he draws out brings the same smug grin too tug at his lips. Gripping the back of your thick thighs to spread your stance and slot his own knees between.

Pulling you down against him knees on either side of his thighs. Hiss issued at the contact of your dripping folds coating his shaft trapped between your bodies. Rolling hips to tease your own hands gripping the back of the couch to brace yourself while raising up. Deep moan breaks from your chest when Javier draws the fat cock head through your folds. Circling your clit as your hips match the movements. Waiting till he’s notched himself at your entrance before slamming down against him.

Head tossing back at the stretch and burn of him splitting you open gasps of delight echo and play with the groans from Javier. Who grips your hips, holding you against him for a time face buried in your chest. Hot mouth searching out blindly latching onto your right nipple to bite down just hard enough to make your quivering channel squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck,” single word mumbled against your skin. When you start to move setting a quick pace that’s hard and demanding. Head dropping back between your gripping hands. String of curses and praise leave his lips. “Just like that hermosa, so fucking wet for me,” grunting into your mouth that came to fuss to his. Sharing breaths while you move against his body.

Taking possession of his pleasure with a kiss that’s deep and hungry. Devouring the sounds he makes with each quick roll of your hips. Pressing your generous breasts against the hard plains of his chest, nipples brushing his skin as his own hands grip your thick soft waist. Leaving behind bruises with how tightly he holds you. One hand gliding over sweat slicked skin to cup a full ass cheek giving a squeeze before landing a hard slap.

Movements falter with the stinging pleasure coursing through your veins, “Javi.” Kiss breaking breathlessly to catch his eyes. Seeing the indecision clearly written, you nod leaning to brushing your lips over his ear, “Again please.”

Mouth buries against the spot where shoulder and neck meet, planting his feet firmly to thrust into your welcoming cunt quicker. Letting a moment pass till he lands another smack to the other ass cheek. Soothing the pain with his warm palm, “Like that princesa?” Drawing his nose over the sweaty expanse of his throat tossed back on a gasp. Bearing your neck to his hungry gaze and mouth.

Taking advantage to bite and suck, thick mustache abrading your skin in the most delicious of ways. Sending tingles to dance across your skin making your clit throb with each hard pound of his cock deep inside your quivering walls. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders for leverage as your knees sink into the couch and you bounce on Javier’s cock. Thick thighs shaking as orgasm builds quicker than you thought possible.

“Yes,” whimpering out in answer. Both hands cup your ass helping you move against him. Sweat slicked shoulders make for a tough grip movements becoming choppy and sloppy. Low whine bubbles from the back of your throat needing more but unsure how to say.

Javier picks up on the destress, pulling out making the whine lengthen. “Lay back on the couch for me hermosa,” seeing the confusion in your gaze. Javi tugs you to sit in the corner of the couch, pulling till your almost flat and he crawls between those thick thighs he wants wrapped around his waist.

Sliding back inside of you on a groan, “Still so tight for me princesa I could stay buried in your pretty pussy forever never growing tired of having your surround me.”

“Javi,” heat flares across your body at his words, face buried in your palms. Only to have them pulled and placed on his chest. Shocked yet pleased with his sentiments, the way he growls out the words setting off tingles dancing down your spine.

Gasping when he pulls out resting just the tip before surging back angling to hit that little spot only he’s managed to discover inside you. Right leg draped over his hip left dangling off the couch as your hands scrap and grope at his shoulders. Strong arms press on either side of you holding himself up while rocking his hips into yours. Setting a fast and hard pace that has you gasping, moans of incoherent words tumble from your mouth that hangs open trying to gather breath.

Watching with hooded eyes, drinking in the way you look, the passion morphing your features never wanting to let you go. To always see you in the throws of pleasure he delivers to your body. Praying to whoever will listen that you’ll stay. Those thoughts creating a fire inside his body that moves quicker.

Wanting to show you his feelings by repeatedly burying his cock deep inside your throbbing cunt. Loving your soft thick body with his mouth latching onto a breast. Nipping skin and taunt nipples, curling his tongue before biting down and switching to the twin. Feeling your nails score his back and shoulders only driving on his own pleasure.

Needing you to cum first though, Javier slides one hand between your slick bodies to caress your clit with tight circles of pressure. Smirking into your flesh when you gasp and squirm under him. His name breathlessly spoken to the heavens your back arching off the couch. “That’s my girl cum for me amor soak my cock.”

“Javier,” fingers card through his hair pulling his mouth back to yours. Tender and sweet nothing like the previous kisses as you pour your heart out to the man pounding you into the couch. Foreheads rest together, moans dripping from your lips brushing against his trying to hold back to draw out the pleasure. Afraid of the final moment he finds completion and walks out of your life maybe for good this time. “I love you,” unable to stop those three words from tumbling out. Orgasm slamming through your body with the hard thrusts of Javier’s hips. Crying out his name, arching against him breath stuck along with tears in your throat.

Swearing he heard things, Javier’s pace stuttered but his heart pounds quicker. Hips having a mind of their own as his body rushes to completion. Cumming harder than he’s ever in his life, filling your clinching walls with hot stick seed. Strength evaporated from his arms collapsing into your embrace. Burying his face in your neck, hot moist breath fanning out over your skin. Small after shocks roll through both your bodies garnering whimpers and moans from both of you.

Time, unsure of how much passes while you card fingers through his sweat slicked hair. Enjoying this moment, basking in the after glow of your love making while praying it’s not the end.

“Don’t leave,” words whispered into your skin so low there barely caught. Wondering if you’ve heard things your fingers pause watching on stuttering breath as Javier raises his head to stare into your eyes. Wondering if you meant what you said or just caught up in the pleasurable sex and let it out. It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask when you beat him to the punch.

“I… I…” words lost in the jumble of your mind unsure what to say. Fearful your passionate declaration went unheard or worse ignored.

Cupping your cheek surprised to find tears tracking down your cheek, “Don’t leave me Y/N please.”

Searching his bright russet eyes confused till you see what he’s really saying. Realization blooming across your mind your own hand coming up to embrace his cheek. Thumb swiping over the apple, “I’ll speak to Noonan.” Bringing his mouth down to yours for a soft sweet kiss.

“Do you really love me?” Foreheads resting together breath held, his eyes closed tightly fearing the answer.

Shocked he’s asking. Remembering the times you tried to get him to talk about his feelings becoming shut down pushing the conversation away or distracting you with kisses and sex. With the lengthening silence Javier dares to open his eyes catching the soft expression in yours that cracks his frozen heart.

“I wouldn’t say those words if I didn’t mean them Javi you know that,” continuing to brush your fingers over his stubbled jaw. Up into his soft sweaty hair to gently scratch his scalp knowing how much he enjoys when you do. Rewarded with a low purr from the back of his throat. “What happened today baby?”

Fear keeps him quiet for a moment till, “I almost killed a kid.” Lowering his stare to map your skin with his eyes adding the marks he left behind to his memory. Fear returning now that you’ve heard how much of a monster he’s turning into.

“Did you shoot?” There’s no accusations or incrimination, voice softly seeking a way to help sooth the demons you saw when he first arrived.

Carefully pulling from your warm depths and embrace to sit on the edge of the couch face buried in his hands. Missing the whimper at loosing his touch. You grab for the blanket draped over the back to cover yourself in self consciousness. Moving carefully to sit up and lean against his shoulder. Fingers carding through his hair slowly while placing the other around his waist. Waiting till he’s ready to start speaking not wanting to push.

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

Yes I need her in the daytime

Yes I need her in the night

Yes I want to throw my arms around her

Kiss her hug her kiss her hug her tight

Welcoming warmth enveloping his body that cleaves into you. Baritone rough with emotions, “No I couldn’t pull the tigger, didn’t want to shoot some kid who’s stupidly following the orders of a man who doesn’t care about him.”

“Listen to me Javi you’re not Escobar you’ll never have that narcissistic attitude.” Turning his face to look at you, brushing the stubble with your fingertips. “Yes you’ve done some questionable things for good reasons to take down this asshole who would gladly see all of Columbia burn just to get and keep what he wants.” Leaning in to brush your nose against his, “I couldn’t love a man who killed people for kicks Javier. That’s not what you do. You save people, protect them as best you can.”

Unworthiness filtering through his thoughts never expecting to find someone who loved him faults and all. Intertwining his fingers with the hand previously on his cheek bring the back to his lips to place a kiss. “I don’t deserve you hermosa,” swallowing harshly letting your hand go to stand. Unconcerned with his nakedness Javier stretches popping his back then looking down at you.

Worry etched in those beloved eyes that stare unblinkingly at the spot he just vacated. “Leaving now?” Biting off the words tears clouding your vision mistaking his declaration as rejection pulling the blanket tighter around your plush body.

Forefinger and thumb pinching the end of your soft chin raising your gaze to meet his, “Why would I leave when everything I want and love rests with you.”

“Javier?” Voice wobbling with unshed tears.

Pulling the blanket from your body taking in the curves and dips, the softness he’s itching to get his hands back on. But right now Javier brings the nearest hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with his mouth mustache tickling your skin. Keeping your eyes locked as he tugs you up into his arms. “I’m serious Y/N I don’t deserve you but without you I’m a shell of a man,” bringing his free hand up to cup your cheek deep russet eyes burning with love staring into yours.

“What are you saying?” Fear coating the words, afraid it’s all a dream and you’ll wake without Javier beside you.

Drawing your mouth closer, strong arm wrapping around your thick waist, “I’m saying I love you Y/N and if you’ll have me I’m yours till you kick me out for driving you crazy.”

“You already do that Javi,” watery giggles escaping your lips that brush his twice. Reaching up to card fingers through the soft strands at the back of his head tugging just a little harder than normal. “Say it again.”

Grunting at the tugs sliding a hand down to cup a generous bare ass cheek to give a squeeze. “Drive you crazy.”

Just barely holding in the squeak, “No,” eyes rolling at his cheek. “You know what I mean Javier Peña.”

“I do,” slotting his mouth against yours stealing the breath from your lungs as he kisses you with a passion never felt before. Barely breaking to mumble those three simple words into your lips, “I love you.” Getting lost in your kiss while silently vowing to never let you go or break your heart.

And when I'm returning from so far away

She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day

Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole

Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul

[bxdbxdboy]

Character Development

BASICS

Full Name:  Luz Noceda 

Alias:   Apprentice

Nicknames: Bad Boy, (Luz Squad) B.Boy, (herself) Soft Boy, (Cottage) Baby Boy, (Eda) Nice Boy, (Sunny) Sweetheart (Bee)

Sex / Gender:  Female, Nonbinary  (she/her/hers, he/him/his, they/them/theirs ) .

Right or Left:    Left 

Age:   16.

Height:   5'6″.

Eye Color:    dark brown

Hair Color:   Dark brown

Distinguishing Marks:  She has a raven tattoo over her scar she received trying to stop her villain in her timeline. She’s shaved her left eyebrow in the middle to match her friend’s scar.  

Paragraph Of Physical Traits: She’s got a rather strong build which means she has no weak nerd arms and a significant amount of muscle to her arm. Her hair is slicked back like a wave and it’s always been like that it just has always naturally curled and folded over in that direction. When she sleeps it gets wavy or spikey sticking up like a parrot.

FAMILY / RELIGION

Parents / Guardians:     Camilla Noceda 

Siblings: n/a  adopted Brother King.

Marital Status:  Not married. 

Significant Other(s): Bee (Amity-Bee), Blushy (Amity in her timeline)  

Children:   N/A.

Other Relatives:   Many Many cousins, aunts and uncles and cousins on both sides of the family. 

Pets:   Bunga, (familiar, honey badger) Saturn, (familiar magical Owl) Calypso. (palisman Sable)  

Friends:     Cottage, Sunny, Iris, Bee, Lucky, Otter, Puppy, Gus, Willow.

Enemies:     Emperor Belos. 

Ethnicity:     Latina 

Religion:     None. 

Beliefs:    N/A

Superstitions:    black cats, broken mirrors. KARMA!

Languages:   English. Spanish. 

Diction / Accent:    Spanish 

SCHOOL / WORK / HOME

Education:   Public School / High scool leverl/ Hexside

Degree(s):   Not yet. 

Occupation:   Local Power washer for her boiling isles, Food delivery, Potion distributor. 

Own or Rent:    Neither.

Living Space:   Eda’s home in the owl house, Her home in the human realm, and Magic Treehouse bedroom. 

Work Space:    N/A.

Main Mode of Transport:   Skateboarding, Walking, running, or flying. Can drive, will learn, will drive without license. 

PSYCHOLOGY

Fears:      Being replaced / abandoned,  her anger issues, her home getting concurred, loosing her friends, venomous snakes, possessed creatures, dark mimics. spiders, The deepest depths of the Ocean, Slender Man, Siren Head.  

Secrets:    A big softie just doesn’t want many who meet her to realize it. 

IQ:     Was never formally tested,   but she may not be as intellectually gifted as the other Luz’s There’s a big jock mentally mindset to her as a whole.

Eating Habits:  Ravenous Appetite, no matter how much she eats she’s always asking for more. She can put some food away if someone has something they’re saving it’s too late she’s already gotten to it. 

Food Preferences: She enjoys Hot Wings they are her most favorite food besides Pizza coming around at a close second She likes a lot of junk food candy, cookies, chips of all kinds. On occasion she will eat something green though like some lettuce with taco meat or a green pepper. She’ll eat it all everything under the sun and even be adventurous eating a wide margin of other foods. She almost always has hot sauce on her there isn’t a single kind of meal she doesn’t love covered in the hot stuff.  

Sleeping Habits:   She sleeps well, for the most part, when she isn’t attempting to be a night owl she falls asleep relatively quick, even rivaling some of the younger Luz’s with how early she can fall asleep. It’s likely she has sleep apnea as she has tendency to snore so very loud and wakes up during the night in cold sweat, when she stops breathing from night terrors. She will oversleep until almost 2:00 in the afternoon if not monitored.         

Book Preferences:   She’s not a big egg-head book reader like the rest of the squad is the most Bad Boy read in school was “Animal Farm”, and The “Lord of the Flies”, in high school two books that peaked her interest a little bit. She also enjoys listening to Cottage read some horror books it’s the most she’ll really listen rather than use her eyes to read, in fact, one would say she struggles to read efficiently. 

Music Preferences:     Hip Hop, Rap, Dubstep, 80′s music, The Weekend, Various artists. 

Leader or Follower:    She likes to be the boss, but will occasionally follow if she doesn’t have to do much. 

Planner or Spontaneous:  Spontaneous! All of her ideas are never planned out she definitely does not look before she leaps. Her leaps are full of optimism and happy stupidity. The only time she tends to plan is when Bee holds her hand and forces her to take a step back. 

Journal:    Nope

Hobbies:    Dancing,   listening to music,     training,    watching videos / shows,  exercising,  roasting members of the Luz squad, doing dangerous stunts, skateboarding, basketball, baseball, (more so the batting range)  Surfing (Prior), Deep woods exploring, practicing her magic, teaching her familiars, (Saturn and Bunga) Listening to music, Swooning Bee, Video games, Baking Pizza, Breakdancing, Beat Boxing, Collecting Hats, Serenading, Dancing, Snuggling King.

How Do They Relax:  By listening to some calming beats privately, counting to 10, or at any point stroked by Bee she curls and becomes softer. 

What Excites Them:  Competitions,  Wild magic, Magical Creatures, Parkour, Plane Crash videos, Unus Annus, Dogs! Kitties, Being in charge, Buffalo sauce, Food!, Flirting, 

What Stresses Them:  Bossy individuals, Strict Parents, Rude people, Being inside the Emperor Castle, Being the butt of the joke, Tests, Explosives. Needles. 

Pet Peeves:   Vegan food, Whining, losing games, Being accused of being a perv, mocking, people stealing her hat,  Lucky sending her cursed images. 

Prejudices:  high horse, pretends not to be a trouble maker to stay in good graces, struggling to not be hostile towards her doppelgängers, 

Attitudes:   Closed off, Laid back, Aggressive,  or chill and cool depending on who you are. Bad Boy appears to be the “scary” anger issues Luz that is liable to explode at any moment and when she does her face and ears can get as red as Bee’s. You’re either in good graces with her or your not, she’s not always easy to approach unless you have a good sense of humor than she cracks up with you about stupid jokes. 

Obsessions:    Her shoes and hats, her favorite music, lids, BEE

Addictions:    Does addiction to sugary cereal count? because oh my god-!!

Ambitions:     Defeat Belos in her timeline, find a way to get adopted as a sibling by Cottage Core, Have her own identity outside of Cottage and the Luz squad.   Become a powerful witch, Make her mom proud.  

ASTROLOGY / PHISIOLOGY

Birth Date:    November 26,    2005.

Sign:    Sagittarius

Traits Associated with Western Sign:  loyal, smart, assertive, and compassionate personality   

Chinese Zodiac Sign:    The rooster

Traits Associated with Chinese Sign: active, amusing, and popular within a crowd. Roosters are talkative, outspoken, frank, open, honest, and loyal individuals. They like to be the center of attention and always appear attractive and beautiful.

Handwriting:     It’s okay…;      fairly sloppy.

Sexual History:   N/A.

General Health:     She takes pretty good care of herself as far as hygiene and having a good confident attitude.  experiencing some struggles with her adhd, bad posture leaves her with some back pain.

Mental Disabilities:      PTSD,   ADHD,  depression,  

Allergies:   Seasonal.

OBJECTS KEPT IN

Purse / Bag:  Wallet, towel, water bottle, Treehouse keys key chain,

Wallet:     Photo ID, Gold, Cash, rings, Brass knuckle, 

Fridge:     Chalked full of between meal and frozen pizza. 

Medicine Cabinet:  Bandages, Healing Potions, Icey-hot muscle rub,  

Glove Compartment:   Parking tickets, Trespassing tickets, concert tickets. 

Junk Drawer:     fidget spinners, gum, pens, sharpies, stress balls. 

Backpack:   Hats, Snacks, Mints, hair gel, Extra clothes, socks,  pepper spray, hand sanitizer, suntan lotion, hair brush

Desk:   Doodles, Paper Airplanes, Crumpled up Paper.

Clothes Pockets:    Phone, Hot Sauce packets, hand warmers, stress ball.  

OTHER

Halloween Costumes:   A zombie, the cementary is hiring.

Talents:    break dancing, beat boxing, fighting in close quarters, self defense, making Luz squad question their sanity, making jokes, flipping her hat. being annoying. 

Politics: Nah. 

Flaws:   stand offish,  moody,     blunt and direct,   vain,  doesn’t like to be on the losing side indecisive, selfish,

Strengths:  Her optimism, strong sense of personal integrity, avoiding the status quo, free spirited, confidence level, good sense of humor.  

Drugs / Alcohol:    N/A. No who invited? 

Passwords:     The most random shit. 

Prized Possessions:   Her hat passed down by her oldest cousin, her unus annus sweatshirt, a small wolf plushy named Akela 

Time and Place:    Currently, at the Treehouse interviewing new members of the Luz squad. She just got back from a trip and she has jet lag.     

Special Places:      The treehouse, her original house, The owl house, the forest where she goes to meet Blushy, The cliff by the Grom tree, the beach. 

Special Memories:   Meeting Eda and King then running into Cottage and Bee, Becoming friends with Cottage Core learning magic from them, Teasing Belos and Hunter with Cottage Core, Dancing with Bee at her Grom, becoming a polyamorous couple with Bee and Cottage. Being accepted into the Luz Squad. 

Tagged by:    Stole it from @witchesborn​

Tagging:    You,    if you want to do it.

[popculturebuffet]

Close Enough Reviews: First Date and Snailin’ It

We’re in the home stretch thank god! Seriously while I do love this show, doing 13 reviews in one day, even as most are easy to bang out, has been exausting. But the thank god is also because we’ve arrived at my faviorite episode so far and.. er another one but at least it has Noel Fielding! That’s really awesome!  This time around Josh and Emily try to recapture the magic of their first date only to end up in one of the good Blumhouse movies, while Bridgette brings Josh along on an awkward first date. Then Emily gets the help of a snail’s magical hat to juggle work and life. Snail yeah under hte cut. 

First Date: 

A fourtune teller is at the fourplex, another review of the series I recently read revealed that’s what their buildings called and I like the sound of it so i’m using that, predicting a weird romance for bridget, who belivies it’s a guy she’s been texing, and sometimes sexting in her words not mine, who she has a date with tonight while said psychic also reveals to Emily that things with her and josh have gotten bland, something emily realizes via a hilarous flashback of them making out while falling asleep repeadtly before both just conk out. Also randy has thunder pants, aka pants tha tmake thunde rnoises and have a giant lighting bolt cod piece. Your the second best randy. Andt hat’s only because Alex is still a character. 

So we have our two plots and unlike previous episodes and one future one the plots.. don’t dovetail. Which I like and I like a show being able to do two seperate plots in eleven minutes. We frankly need more of that. Bridgette has her date and Josh and Emily end up having theres. As such i’ll cover both seperatley. And since their plots a bit simplier let’s start with Josh and Emily.  Emily tries flirting with Josh before explaning it’s because she wants to bring the spice back. After josh bungles his response trying to say what she wants but just.. you know asking emily what she wants him to say which is never a good move in any conversation, Josh does near instantly rebound, texting emily to come to the close tfor a suprise. Granted since Josh, self admittley right after, admits he has no game, it come across as weird and creepy, but Emily appricates him trying and is touched when he reveals his real bring the sparks back romantic plan: a recreation of their first date, which was at a haunted house. Also for some reason Josh thought mr magoriums wonder emporium was a best picture contender. Never change josh, never change. But I genuinely like this: having a couple that while relaistically having a dry spell still lvoes each other: instead of worrying the relationship is dead as these plots tend to do they simply want to bring back the magic that’s sometimes lost when you work two jobs, raise a kid full time and live with two weirdos with little sense of personal space.  So they go and the reason it’s pretty simple is their subplot is the two having a mind screw being chased by various horrors in the house. As i’ve said I feel the series has more of a horror bent at times with some episodes leaning more into that than just goofy madness like regular show did. Regular Show really saved most of its straight up horror content for terror tales, here horror bits can crop up as much as fucking wacky bits. I mean a logan’s run parody where a man dies is paired up with a low speed train chase with a con arist that ends with her driving into a thermortor factory while choking her fake son. The show can ping pong on tone, but it does work.  But yeah that’s why there’s less to talk about: it’s not bad stuff, it’s super spooky including the end bit where their told they died, it’s just mostly the two of them running around a nightmare, that unsuprisngly turns out not to be real and was just the attraction, before a really touching climax when the two finally find each other run towards each other and realize just how horrifed they were at the thought of loosing one another. it’s really damn touching and romantic, and leads to another climax when the two start kissing before getting it on despite the horror house working telling them they have others coming. I’ts a good plot, I just don’t have a ton to anlyaize about it. it’s just really good and really good horror stuff with a satsifying and sweet ending.  On to our main event, Bridgette heads out to her date and TRIES lying to alex for his own sake.. but Alex not only easily guessed she was on a date in the first place but... isn’t bothered at all. He even offers to wing man while sining the firends theme song and clapping at the wrong time. Because he’s alex even when he’s being sweet and a good friend and ex, he can’t help but be just a BIT off.  Bridget goes to meet Ron.. and finds he’s sewn to his ex Joy... like literally sewn or conjoined as they put it. Bridgette freaks the fuck out but is talked by ron into continuing, partly because their getting it undone and partly because Bridgette herself admits Ron looked past her baggage.. even if his is larger, she can at least try to. Also Ron is voiced by Chris Parnell who, with archer delayed event hough i’m watching it again and having stopped wtching rick and morty, I dearly missed. Glad to have you back dude. I’m also unsuprised he’s in this as the man is in everything. He’s a fucking workhorse. 

Anyways Alex happily agrees, has his own brief freakout because bridget didn’t tell him about the conjoined twins thing despite being a room away, but quickly rebounds and.. actually hits it off with Joy. even better than Bridgette is with ron who she soon realizes won’t shut the hell up about hiking. Soon Bridgette.. is jealous. Both because Alex is moving on way easier and found someone way quicker, Joyce shares his weird taste in viking erotica, and because she may still have some feelings left. We saw a bit of that in “Robot Tutor”: Bridgette got jealous real quick when alex saw someone elsed espite them being there mostly as sex pals, and admitted there was still some unresolved stuff there they hadnt gotten past on both sides.  They hit the club and things continue to degrade, with Bridgette even more jealous because Alex never took her dancing. And being that bridg is a musician and loves clubbing and what not, i’ts pretty understandable to be frustrated with her ex talking about how it took someone else to get him to do the worm.. also Alex doing the worm is a sheeer delight. When the cojoined ex couple leave, with Ron once again bringing up climbing machu pichu because apparently it’s in chris parnells contract he can never play an actually likeable romantic intrest, Bridget tries to bail but Alex wants to stay since it’s not his fault his date is going well and her’s isn’t.  Bridgette makes the mistake of saying “If you like joy so much why don’t you just conjoin with her”.. and Alex being alex says “why dont’ I and we end up at conjoin, the place Ron and Joy got bonded in the first place. Ever since 1994, you won’t regret this. Actual signs up there and they are wonderful. Bridgette, still jealous even ifs he can’t stand ron offers to be conjoined to him both in a desperate attempt not to losoe alex and to one up him.  However Alex finally calls her out, as while he’s perfeclty happy for her to move on, as this episode showed.. she can’t stand to see him with someone else, and Ron wisley tells her he can’t be attached to someone who isn’t unattached from her ex. When bridgette counters with the oppsitie ron is suprisingly pogniant “We can detach from each other physically but you two can’t detach from each other spirtually”. WHile bridgette quips about him finally saying something intresting, he’s right. She’s not ready and this night clearly proved it and even if she was she was only doing this to show up Alex. Joy likewise breaks things off. a bit more abrubtly since Alex has’nt been nearly as obvious as bridgette.. but alex himself shows he too still has some feelings when he accidentlya dmits to having written an entire section of his memoir about her teeth. Would could be creepy or you know, standard alex ends up really sweet as Bridgette is not only touched by the gesture, but Alex explains why “THeir all the parts that make up your smile” The two share a look, Joy wants what they have and Ron wants to masturbate alone. The end. 

Sadly this isn’t followed up on yet, if at all if there isn’t more episodes next week, as the next ep with the two in it, the finale for today, has the two in seperate plots that only dovetail at the end. But this honestly feels like a posisble arc for the show; Will the two get back together and work past the issues that got them to divorce in the first place or stay divorced and move on? And regular show, with one exception i’ve ranted enough about and will again, was really good at romantic storylines eventually and this could be really intresting for a number of reasons. I’m realy hoping this isn’t just a one off ending, could be but we’ll hopefully see. Either way this episode is really damn good with both plots , while not intersecitng connecting thematically: ONe couple relives a horrifying mirorr version of their first date while a former couple goes on their first real date with other people since the split but finds they might not be as done as they thought. IT’s a good juxtopision and the whole conjoining bit is both horrifying and good Beisdes having my ship at the center i’ts just a damn good time and the best of the season so far (or at all atain the 8 episodes thing is really throwing me off). 

Snailed It: This one should go quicker as its a much simpler ep: Emily has been working way too much and neglecting Candace, including a crypt based board game they’ve been playing for her job because she’s being a doormat. however i’ts not unresonable since said job gives them health insurance which given their lives, they REALLY need. She’s being such a doormat because she’s understandably afraid if she stands up for herself it could risk her job and they’d loose important stuff.  Emily TRIES to juggle things by doing a charity garden/publicity stunt to distract thigns at the school btu the comination of extra work from her boss and the children not actually gardening makes it fail and candace more upset. Emily finds help in the most unlikely of places: A giant talking snail that offers to let her use his magic hat to speed up time and complete the garden in exchange for some of the veggies. He’s also voiced by nice dude and mighty boosh alum noel fielding in what hoenstly feels like a boosh character got out of that universe, if their not the same unvierse which is possible, and snuck into this one.  Emily accepts, and is tempted to use the hat to do more of her job, with the snail calling her a shit parent. Fuck you man, sh’e sa good mom she’s just making mistakes. Emily decides to do it anyway and it works but she soon finds out using the hat outside the garden ages her while the snail decides fuck it and kidnaps candace by aborbing her into his stomach and making her be his legs so he can get dumplings because why not. What follows is a horrifc and tense chase between the two as candace’s life is on the line and the snail has a backup hat and emily time blasting him only makes candace age or deage, horrifyingly becoming a fetus at one point and a teenager later. It’s ar eally tense well done seen that combines the show’s usual insanity with it’s horror side to great effect Meanwhile josh feels useless since his job is less important, and he feels less important as he’s on call and skipping rocks with randy because apparently that’s what he does on call. Randy gets a great moment though, explaning to josh that h’es like the stones their skipping: he’s immoible and seemingly useless most of the time but when it matters he’s there . He’s there rock. Their support.. and naturally with emily slowly dying from her hat, a rare sentence, Josh steps upa nd saves the day via stone skipping, emily throws the hat in and the fundraiser, due to the madness, sucesffuly buired the scandal and Emily finally tells mr salt no.. and he’s really cool about it just telling her to come in a little later. Things are back on track and we’re out.  This wasn’t a bad one, but it both feels less after the prevoius episode and somehwhat simple comaprd other emily centreic episodes. WHile the snail is a great villian and noel fielding,  like rich fulcher before him, fits into this kind of world nicely. Not a bad one, just one sandwitched between two far more interesting episodes. Speaking of which, we’re in the endg ame now. Next time it’s dog days and weird fucking al baby, until very soon later days. 

[hiraeth-wayfarer]

Hiraeth Creature #1000 - Vesailia 

Aesalith, City of Ghosts; Fierfohen, City of Beasts, and Empyrean, City of Blasphemies. The bones of a transient golden age sit stark and wilted in the furthest reaches of Hiraeth's northern wilds. Beyond beautiful fields and ancient forests, kissed by snow and embraced by flowing sunlight, a curse festers and squirms under its heaving weight. The cursed forest guards the way to the kingdoms, its breath haggard by toxins and its voice strained by the calls of malformed and otherworldly creatures that spirits watch from afar, lest the forest take them as well. This place was once a sprawling, radiant paradise, built with unprecedented magic.

Those who crafted this utopia were three Summerfolk siblings: youngest brother Ezia, cunning and tricksy with words; middle sister Tevenka, strong and brave until the end, and eldest sister Vesailia, kind and compassionate to all. Though Vesailia was eldest, she was meek, but her fragility came with a blessing. As a child, she had stumbled upon a beautiful staff, but when she touched it, celestial magic coursed through her body, scaring and burning her inside and out. Her siblings took care of her always, well after they were left as orphaned nomads in the desert. Wherever they went, they helped those they could and survived by the good will of others. Ezia fought for the rights of peasants and workers, Tevenka fought bandits and monsters who tormented them, and Vesailia fought to keep them alive as they struggled to make a life in the wastes. Vesailia's blessing was that she could use celestial magic with Hiraeth's innate magic in tandem, and though it pained her tremendously, she saved many with her miraculous gift.

Word of the siblings changing each town they passed went far and wide, and soon they had caravans following them, seeking their aid and teachings. Their once aimless wandering was taken over by a great pilgrimage of lost people, looking for salvation. Kingdoms from all over had been devoured by the Earthen Maiden, mother of Hiraeth's balance. Those who grew too quick or practiced forbidden arts were swallowed into the abyss and the survivors sought out hope, finding it in the three siblings. They planned to head north to the great City of Myths, home of legendary spirits, to beg for sanctuary. They braved the northern winds as far as they could, before Vesailia could walk no more. They built a town around her resting spot, and people from all over came to pray for her health. Eventually the town grew into a city, as Ezia and Tevenka used their strengths to bind folk together and give them purpose. Once wanderers, they become citizens, workers, and knights, strung together by focus and determination.

While her siblings eked out a new life, Vesailia was plunged into a deep, dark dream-- visions billowed like storm clouds and overwhelmed her senses. She sunk into a sea of conscience and found another her-- a her that wasn't her, but had the same soul. She saw a soul connected to countless souls, coalescing into a great winged form, each silver feather a veil, the silhouette of far-off lands behind each one. She awoke from this dream to the joyful tears of her siblings and the unending devotion of friend and stranger alike. She felt the hands that weren't hers clutch together against her beating heart, and found the magic she needed to save her people.

---------------------------------

With unfathomable power, the grandest city Hiraeth had ever seen was built. Separated into thirds, they became knowns as Aesalith, City of Riches, Fierfohen, City of Steel, and Empyrean, City of Wonders. Vesailia wished to make the people of Hiraeth their City of Myth, so that their journeys would not end in the deathly pale like theirs had almost done. She met with the spirits of the wilds and begged them for their blessings, which they granted after seeing that their lands had been undamaged by the miracle Vesailia performed, and the land became saturated in fertility. The Earthen Maiden was not keen with the choice the spirits of the north had made, but found that the grand city was protected by wards never seen before, as if pulled from another world entirely. The foundation was changed, and the Earthen Maiden's judgement could not be passed.

Together, the siblings ruled wisely over their kingdoms, meeting often in council. Ezia brought the kingdoms prosperity, Tevenka brought safety, and Vesailia brought miracles. She poured over old and new teachings, and her knowledge lead Empyrean to be capital of magical studies. They welcomed travellers and refuges from across the world, but Vesailia began to feel a great unease when she would see caravans of the needy and the sickly enter their walls. Years were passing, and all the magic she had burned within her was taking its toll-- she wanted more power to keep everyone safe, but the more she gained, the weaker she felt. Her whims changed over time-- she stopped appearing at council, and her royal ministers took her place in greeting the people and walking the streets. Vesailia saw the other her when she closed her eyes, and wanted to join with her at all costs, seeing the strength in her that she needed. Her eyes for the people shifted away to the ethereal reflection always in front of her, but just out of reach. She toiled in her castle, forming a new council of her own, made up of bright and twisted minds-- those who had lost themselves to magic, willing to do anything to reach and become higher beings. Maleficorum once shunned by the world now whispered in the queen's ear, telling her of ancient secrets long left behind.

Vesailia, once healer and weaver of blessings, put her foot forward down a foreboding road-- a road she would walk alone for now, she thought. If the people of Hiraeth were to be saved, she would need to save herself first. Many had to be taken to the castle to learn this royal vow and were never seen again. Witches, druids, shamans, soothsayers, arcane beasts, spirits, demons, Fae, and many others with powerful magic were gathered in the gloom of the castle, and joined with the queen's soul to help her continue making miracles. Even members of her family weren't immune to the castle's cold shadow. Vesailia wanted souls to flourish and join with her's to make her wings, just as she saw in her dream years ago. The souls she embraced warped her body in odd ways, but she could feel her wings sprouting along her back, and continued bringing more and more souls into her caress. Her devotees called upon creatures far away to aid her, but many of them began fleeing their queen and escaped into the wilds, changing the land slowly, to the dismay of both folk and spirit. Vesailia cared little if a few got away, as her metamorphosis was almost complete.

She needed two more things to finish her decree: magic in its purest form and a fitting symbol of her change. Her ministers recovered the staff in the south that blessed her long ago-- a great metal horn, which kept a colossal, consuming flame at bay until she had it brought to her side. She looked to the Land of Giants, where forbidden stories told of a Ravenous Beast made from the chaos of the celestial sea was left to rot away. She took the pure blood of the beast, awakening it in the process. The paradise she had been tending had descended into wild madness, but once her other self was here and once they shared the same pair of wings, she could right all the wrongs of the world. Monsters howled in the night and realms tore apart at the seams, but in her throne room, Vesailia stood proudly and unflinchingly as her attendants performed the ritual to call upon her other self. Before they could finish, the spirits she had imprisoned let loose the light of the Niveous Moon. The queen's eyes were blinded by the moonlight, no longer seeing her other self, she fell back into her old dreams to try and find her again. Some say she still stands in her throne room, waiting for her other self. Her machinations brought calamity to the world, destroying everything she understood, and yet she still lives in the depths of the cursed forest. Like a statue she endures, a monument to the Mother of Blasphemies, the Blight of the North, and the Queen of Nothing.

[writer-of-the-revolution]

Icarus Ch3 - Discovery

Hospitals suck. The first few weeks were all right, you know, being in pain in all, but at this point I think anyone would be stir crazy. The nightly trips to the gym and intermittent visits from Alex and co. became too little, far too soon for my liking. To make matters worse, I’m fine. Despite being given a near clean bill of health I’m still stuck here. The unwelcome truth is, the agency doesn’t know what to do with something like me. Can’t let the Angel of Death loose on the town.

My latest visit was one of the most surprising. I looked up from my daily staring into space i saw none other than the Mighty Captain Warshow. How sweet. Here I was thinking I was his least favorite agent.

“Boss!” I exclaim, oozing with excitement, “How’s it goin’?” He looks mildly uncomfortable under my cheerful smile,wringing his hands as he shuffles into the room. I continue, “So, when can I get out of this hell-hole? Nurses cleared me days ago! Even Alex says I’ve made a miraculous recovery, and she’s a mother hen.” He glances at the wings with thinly veiled disgust. How dare he.. “Don’t like what your assignment did to me?” He looks away.

“Agent Valerius, that's why I’m here. HQ has decided to board you in the compound until further arrangements are made. They will be prepared for your arrival by the end of the week.” Of course. Always and easy way out. Keep me on base and keep me secure, out of the public's vengeful eye. Those snakes.

After fulfilling the purpose of his visit, the burly man turns to leave and I let him reach the door before I call out, “When will I be cleared for duty?” He frowns and leaves without another word.

Alex was ecstatic when I told her the following afternoon. Being my primary visiter for duration of my stay in this hell-hole, she had heard enough of my frustrated ramblings to last a lifetime.

“You know what this means right?” She looked practically giddy with excitement. Her trademark tabled gripped tightly in her hands. “You can finally stop bothering me!”

“I take offence to that! I don't ‘bother’ you.” She looked at me disbelievingly before laughing. “Besides,” I roll my eyes, “I’m literally moving two building over.”

“It’s the thought that counts. Your own space and all.”

“Space regulated by B.O.A.”

“Well what do you want them to do? They can’t exactly send you off like you are. And I’m sure you’ll be out in the field before you know it!” Ouch.

I look away. The genius seemed to hit every nerve in one fell swoop. Managing to cover both my inability to ever live a normal life again, and my careers destined closure. My position had always seemed like the one thing I had. As a kid in a military family, always moving across the country, and never fitting in. Learning to blend in and evaluate people, a skill that later made him an asset in intel gathering. So much in fact, that even the higher ups were willing to deal with my recalcitrance. Kind of hard to fade into the crowd if the crown is running away screaming.

Alex, as painfully oblivious as she is realized her mistake swiftly. Torn between reaching out as comfort and not, her hand hovered between us unsure. With both of us reticent tension filled the atmosphere as thick as maple syrup. We looked away, each not meeting the others eyes.

The genius stood sharply and headed to the door. In her final glance back I caught her gaze. Pity. The quiet monster that seemed to follow my every step. A predator tracking its prey. Antagonising me. Look what you are. You will never be like us. You poor, poor thing. Eating me alive.

As Dr. Gray’s figure left the door, disappearing into shadowy confines of my thinly veiled prison cell. What she left unsaid lingered in the still air.

The next day crept by at an agonizingly slow pace like molasses flooding the streets. With no visitors to distract me time seemed to stand still. The need to escape crawled across my skin like a swarm of fire ants. In a last effort to ease the feeling I checked the bindings on the wings, swept on a large coat (okay, a trench coat), and made my way through the hallway to the gym.

The large room was fortunately near empty, it’s only inhabitant a 40ish agent asleep on the bench. I removed my coat and made my way to the punching bag to vent my frustrations. One hit turned to two, then twenty. It seemed so much easier to lose myself in a haze of adrenaline than it was to think. Sweat poured down my back soaking uncomfortably into feathers of the wings. My movement tearing the bandages loose, letting the limbs loose. Despite that I felt more alive since I woke up in a hospital room.

“Kai!?” Standing on the other side of the room was none other than Alex Gray.

The man slumbering in the corner woke at Alex’s yell. Panic fluttered in my chest. The agent’s eyes opened and he seemed to panic at the sight of me. I realized with a cold feeling of dread that my gut. I grabbed my coat and ran, not stopping till I reached my desolate room. Alex was right behind me.

“Kai I’m so sorry!” My response was vitriolic.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Alex!” A heavy weight settled on my chest, forcing he breath out of my lungs and leaving me gasping. My hands shook as I held them against my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Chills rushed down my spine.

“I didn’t mean to scare anyone! I just needed to get out of here.” Alex’s hand rested on my shoulder but panic still flooded my senses.

“Kai, it’s gonna be alright.”

“No it’s not. I know i’m an abomination. Do you have any idea what it feels like to know that no matter what you do you can never get better. I’m going to spend the rest of my life either a lab rat or glorified prisoner being transferred from one facility to the next.” I fell to the floor and something warm wrapped around me.

“K-Kai!” Alex watched me, her eyes flooded with astonishment, “Your wings!”

That’s when I noticed. The feathered limbs that always dragged so uselessly behind me were not so now. Dull, dark feathers blocked my vision as the wings held themselves in front of me, almost as if to protect me.

Then, spasms of pain shot down my spine, burning like a wildfire. Black spots cloud my vision as my nerves scream in agony. Through my blurry vision I see Alex rush over to me. Tears streamed down my face as my body fell limp and I finally lost consciousness.

Waking up in a hospital bed in varying amounts of pain, with a certain genius perched at the foot, seems to be becoming a very unwelcome habit. Alex looked up from the device in her hand and smiled as she saw my bleary gaze.

“Valerius, you’re up! You have no idea how big this is!” The brunettes incessant energy was back in full swing. Completely disregarding my empty stare, she continued, “I've never seen anything like it. The sensory output from your wings has increased exponentially! The nerve endings knit together almost over night and your brain has managed to add another set of limbs to its control system. If we can replicate it, the applications to paralytics and amputees would be unparalleled.” Finally, she paused to take a breath. “You must be able to feel the difference?”

She was right, as always. I could feel the feathers bend awkwardly under my weight, and the way their barbs are rubbed the wrong way by the material. It was horrible. Feeling the wings so intimately just serve as another reminder that I’m just someone else’s experiment.

“Yeah it’s great… Who knows, maybe one day i'll fly like some kind of angel man!” Alex smiled and the lie felt worthwhile if it fueled her enthusiasm. It seemed as if my years of fake faces and fronts finally did some good. So, I let Alex babble on with a smile on my face.

The next day my move went on as planned despite the wing incident. I stood in my room taking one last look around the place that has been my home for the last 5 months. The plain space was especially empty with my few belonging laying in a duffel at my feet. I caught a glimpse of myself and I couldn’t look away. A gaunt face with prominent cheekbones and sunken eyes stared back at me, a reflection of my months of disappearance and recovery. I could almost see why people looked at me like i’m glass about to shatter.

I hear an eager knock at the door, quickly followed by Alex barging into my room. Back to her energetic self, she was practically vibrating with anticipation.

“It’s moving day!” she said in a sing-songy voice, grabbing my bag and pulling me away from the mirror. The wings were bound again but I almost regretted it. Aside from yesterday, the wings were still unable to hold themselves. Unfortunately, with the enhanced feeling, the setup was hot, restricting, and uncomfortable, leaving me unable to really focus on anything in particular. I followed the genius like a lost puppy.

As Alex and I walked out of the Med Wing, I couldn’t help but feel a hint of melancholy. I’m leaving behind the place where I healed, and all hopes of being fixed, resigning myself to a life of isolation.

My new building is the sumptuous housing for the higher ups, equipped with apartments more similar to those outside the compound than the cramped rooms we stayed in as trainees and agents. Most of the rooms contained kitchens and lounges, luxuries i've been without for far too long.

The moment we entered the building I could tell it was reserved for those of importance. Although not overly decorated, the plush carpet and gleaming chandeliers were impressive. Alex talked my ear off the duration of our ride in the elevator. Obviously I would be staying on the top floor, like a princess trapped in a tower.

“Agent, are you even listening?” Alex’s irritated voice broke me out of my thoughts. I smirked.

“Why would I need to listen to you?” We reached the door and she mock frowned as she opened the door with her set of keys. I walked in and turned of the lights before stumbling back.

“Surprise!” Inside were various friends and acquaintances I had come to know in my years in the agency. Various greetings were thrown my way and Alex watched my reaction with a smug grin.

“Welcome to the real world!”

“Good to have you back”

Then, someone had to say the word that started it all.

“Everyone give it up for Icarus.”

The world fell into madness.

[heyyyyadora]

I haven’t written in a while but finally I can post my Secret Santa gift to @caprisunns based off their amazing prompt image of Literal Big Furry Catra

really indulged in this one cause im a big slut for supernatural AUs

“Okay, go ahead! Coast’s clear.”

“Adora… I don’t know.”

“Come on, Catra, it’ll be fine! It’ll be awesome, actually! You deserve to have a good time.”

“I just… I don’t know, it still feels weird. Bad.”

This was Adora’s idea, of course. She knew Catra hated having to be stuck in such a feeble frame (as she put it), day-in-day-out, suppressing herself, her instincts, her self. As much as she protested she was fine, she was okay, it was just the way of things, Adora could sense her buzzing with need, the drive, to just let herself go.

She didn’t get on too well with most of the supernatural community. She’d… made kind of a name for herself. She had a couple of fae friends, maybe, but only one was more than a loose acquaintance and was kind of a bit much to deal with all-in-all.

But she still had a right to find a space that she could be who she needed to be, a safe space. And now Adora was in her life there was no way that she wasn’t going to be there for Catra, to be her support and help her find happiness and health.

“Catra, you will not be the weirdest looking girl in the house. In fact I think for once I’ll actually stick out the most of the two of us.”

“Well, you are pretty freaky lookin’…”

“Oh, you are not going to bait me into responding to that, I’m not falling for it! Now go on… I’ll look away.”

“I mean, heh… it’s not like I mind you looking.”

“Psh… just do it, okay?”

Catra sighed and nodded, and Adora turned her back to the girl to stare at the alley wall. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

Okay, Catra. Relax. You’re like, the most confident person out of everyone you know. Not to mention the most terrifying. Not like anyone would dare to mess with you now, let alone when… ugh. Okay. She put the bag she carried down and slowly started to undress. This was… the most annoying part of it all, really, that moment where you’re all gross and fleshy and exposed. It did encourage her to get on with it, though.

Catra breathed slowly in, then out. Then, trying her best to stay relaxed, she summoned herself up from deep within.

Her hands were first. It was a tingle in her fingers that spread up the back of them, like static electricity buzzing up her arms. It took a few seconds then slowly, barely noticeably at first, a few dark hairs began to appear… then more and more. Not a second or two later the same sensation began in her feet, then at the back of her neck.

As the fur grew so, too, did the underlying flesh and bone. This went in reverse to the fur, starting from her back and shoulders, which grew longer and wider; her neck, thicker, along with her thighs. She sneezed as whiskers sprouted from the sides of her nose and, immediately after, her face followed the lead of the rest of her body, stretching out and expanding; soon her nose was a snout that extended out under her eyes. Her vision blurred a little and she had to blink a few times to focus properly; the colours of the world were changing, growing less vivid, but she could see much further in the dim evening light than was possible just a few seconds ago.

A minute later from when it began she finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding, a good foot and a half higher from the ground than before. She flexed her claws, brushed them through the mane around her neck, guided some rebellious fur out of her eyes and ears.

“I’m done.” Her voice was deeper than before, rougher. She wasn’t used to the feeling of her tongue in her mouth, but at the same time her whole body felt looser, more relaxed, more natural. This was her. This was Catra. This was how she’d be all the time if she could.

Adora turned slowly, her eyes trailing up to meet Catra’s as she broke out into a grin. Immediately she reached up and offered a gentle scratch at the fluffy fur around Catra’s neck.

“You look great.”

Catra couldn’t suppress a purr but batted the hand away with a rumble in her throat. “Don’t push it.”

Her thick tail flicked with agitation and she shifted nervously from paw to paw. “Let’s go inside, quick.”

Adora bundled Catra’s human clothes into the bag and zipped it up before taking it up on her shoulder. Still smiling she took Catra’s hand, curling her fingers around just one of hers. Then she guided Catra out of the Alley and down the steps of the club to start their night proper.

As they stepped inside immediately they were hit in the face by the usual sights and sounds of a thriving nightclub – though of course a few of the sights were not so standard at all: vampires dancing with werewolves; fairies chatting up demons; dragons and mandrakes and kelpies alike drinking each other under the tables peppered with supernatural creatures of all shapes, sizes and colours.

Catra’s eyes hurt.

“Oh! There they are!” Adora chirped up and led Catra by the paw to one of the tables where two people were sat- well, one of them was, at least. Some sort of bird or angel girl with pink, sparkling hair and fluffy white wings she was obviously struggling to stay comfortable with as they pressed into the back of her seat. The other wasn’t sat at all because, well, there was no suitable means for him to achieve it with the body of a horse. He was the first to look up and call out brightly.

“Adora! Hey!”

“Hi, Bow! Hi, Glimmer! Sorry, we had some stuff to sort out real quick.”

“It’s cool! We got drinks already.” Bow looked from Adora, to Catra, to Adora again. His grin never faltered but he was clearly waiting.

“Oh- Catra, this is Bow! Bow, this is Catra.”

“Hiiiii, Catra! So cool to meet you!”

“Hey.” Catra offered plainly. Bow’s hand hovered in front of her. She grunted and took it in a paw to shake hands, which he did far too enthusiastically.

“Aaaaand this is Glimmer!” Adora next indicated the winged glitterbomb that had been too busy looking at Catra to say anything. “Glimmer? This is Catra!”

“Ohhh, hey, yeah, hi.” She was similarly curt which ticked Catra off. They shook hands too but with much less vigor from either side.

“Sure.”

“Sooooooooo,” Bow cut through the ice like a pro, annoyingly. “How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Bow! I told you all this stuff already!” Adora huffed.

“I know, I know! But I wanna hear it from Catra too! Besides, maaaaybe there’s some stuff you left out…” He wiggled his eyebrows and Adora snorted. Catra just sighed.

“Like… a month.”

“Aaaaaand? How did you meet?”

“…I’d got my fur stuck on her fence.”

Adora sniggered but Bow didn’t – he looked delighted, actually.

“And she totally didn’t freak out because she’d already met me and Glimmer, right?”

“I guess. I figured she must have been crazy but she was super cool about it all. Took me in her place and patched up a load of my cuts. I was too… shocked, I guess, to stop her.”

“So she knew you were a fae from the start?”

“Maybe. I dunno. But it probably gave it away when she went away for a minute and came back to find a naked girl raiding her wardrobe covered in barbed wire cuts.”

Adora choked. Bow clapped his hands joyfully. Even Glimmer gurgled into her drink a little bit. Catra raised her eyebrow at Adora. “You left that part out, huh?”

“Well, yeah! For your dignity, I thought!”

“Adora. I have no dignity.”

Bow, meanwhile, was beaming at the two of them, “Awwwww, but seriously, that’s so cute! Like an actual fairytale!”

“Bow, literally everyone here is like an actual fairytale.”

“It’s so romantic though!”

Catra sniggered. “Well, it probably would be less romantic if you knew I was gonna raid one of your horses…”

“You what?” Adora’s gaze locked onto her in outrage.

“I’m a cat, Adora! And when I get a big hunger, I gotta eat something big!”

“You are staying away from my horse field.”

“Soooooo, anyway!” Bow chimed in again. “That’s kinda how Adora and I met! And Glimmer, through me. She was just so like… obsessed with some of my herd, I was kinda sorta super flattered. So I like, begged Glimmer to say I should go up to her and well… she did kinda freak out, but in a sorta…” He put on his best Horse-Freak-Adora voice. “‘Oh-my-god-you-are-amazing-is-this-real-am-I-dreaming-etcetera-etcetera…’”

Adora put a hand over her face, blushing. “I do not sound like that.”

“Yeah, you totes do.”

“Okay! Well. Now that we’re all introduced! Catra and I are going to go and get drinks!” Adora was blushing harder by the second and moved quickly away from the table. Catra shrugged and followed, a slight smirk on her face.

“Okay! Seeya guys later!” Bow cheered after them.

“Later.” Was the only word from Glimmer.

They navigated the crowd slowly, a tricky task given the added difficulty of additional limbs sprouting in front of you at the worst of times, plus having to avoid stepping on the number of patrons who were less than a foot tall at times.

“Sorry about Glimmer. She’s… usually chattier than that. I dunno what’s up with her.”

“I caught her once.”

“You…” Adora stopped and looked at Catra. “You caught her?”

“She looked like a bird.”

“You were going to eat her?”

“I let her go, duh.” Catra shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

“Wh… why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I wasn’t gonna embarrass her in front her friends, Adora.”

“But…” Adora couldn’t argue with it and she decided against it. “…Fine. Okay. That’s cool. My girlfriend tried to eat my best friend.”

“I caught her, Adora, I didn’t try to eat her. Don’t be weird about it.”

“Don’t be…!” She stopped and just gripped Catra’s paw tighter, lurching forward for the bar. “I need a drink so bad.”

“Yeah… you and me both.”

“What? What is it?”

Catra sighed. She nodded her head to a small group that was at a booth to the left of the bar. The most notable of them was the Spriggan, a tree-person who had to crouch for her head not to be reaching the ceiling. She had long, wavy vines for hair with flowers tangled into them. With her was a human man who was entirely focusing his attention on the third person… a girl with dark, leathery scaled skin and terrifyingly sharp teeth, like those of an angler-fish or other deep-sea terror. Catra’s eyes were on her and they were filled with all number of mixed emotions.

“You okay?” Adora pushed in gently, noticing her distraction.

Catra snapped out of it, looking back to her girlfriend. Her shoulders sagged for a second. “Yeah. It’s nothing, forget it.”

“Who’s that?”

“Ugh… look, I told you I’ve not got a lot of fae friends right now. She’s…” She sighed. “She’s part of that. The fish girl. She’s… my ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh, god.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Catra.” Adora took both of her paws and looked her in the eyes. Despite Adora’s entirely mundane aura, just this once they seemed to glow with an unseen fire. “You are going to have a good time with me, and Bow, and yeah Glimmer once we get past the whole thing that I’m sure she’s totally actually cool about. You don’t have anything to worry about with her, or her friends or anyone she might think she knows here. She is not going to ruin your night.”

Catra looked back at Adora and swallowed. Her heart rose up to her throat a little and she had to push it back down hard. Eventually she offered a weak little smile. “I know. Just, like…” She paused for breath again, giving only the briefest of looks over to the deep-sea girl before Adora pulled her gaze back. “…It’s not her I’m worried about. It’s me. Can you… can you promise me- promise you won’t let me ruin my night?” Adora looked at her with such pure care and sympathy she wanted to die a little. “No, seriously. She’s… she’s okay. She’s cool. I just- don’t let me start anything. Keep me away from her. Please?”

Her response was a tender little kiss to the side of her face and a brush through her mane that got a soft rumble in response.

“Yeah, of course. Come on, Catra.”

She let her wonderful girlfriend she had to fight hard to believe she deserved, take her to the bar. Their night started right here.

[your-dietician]

King County Council candidate responds to criticism over 2010 arrest for school bus threats

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/king-county-council-candidate-responds-to-criticism-over-2010-arrest-for-school-bus-threats/

King County Council candidate responds to criticism over 2010 arrest for school bus threats

It was an incident that would have ended many political aspirations.

The morning of Jan. 12, 2010, current King County Council candidate Ubax Gardheere boarded a Highline School District bus carrying middle school kids — and raised a scene.

She yelled at the students about the U.S. and Somalia, according to a King County Sheriff’s deputy report, and said they should stay calm because she could have a bomb or gun on her. She called them cowards — at least one student said she called them “white cowards” — when they tried to escape.

Gardheere had no such weapons. She didn’t even have her wallet that morning, she told the Courier-Herald recently. Sleep-deprived, struggling with postpartum depression and processing a traumatic trip overseas, Gardheere broke down that morning and did what she thought would put her in jail, where she thought she’d be safe. She held the bus up for about 13 minutes before a deputy arrested her.

Local media reported on the incident at the time. But in deciding this year to run for Position 9 on the Metropolitan King County Council, which includes the Enumclaw Plateau, Gardheere considered it would come up again.

“Before I decided running, I knew something like this would happen,” Gardheere said. “It’s something that’s out there, that happened in a public way.”

She was right. On June 10, an article published in online Canadian news magazine The Post Millennial detailed the incident. Fox News published its own article the following day as the story caught national attention.

Critics raised more than a few concerns: Is someone who terrified and threatened kids with talk of a bomb or gun fit for public office? Did her statements belie racist bias or resentment for the U.S.? And what does she think of her actions now?

Gardheere, currently the equitable development division director at the City of Seattle Office of Planning and Community Development, said she’s processed what happened that day in therapy. She pleaded guilty and served time in jail over it.

Her words that day don’t represent her beliefs, Gardheere said — they were the ramblings of someone in crisis trying to say whatever they could to be taken to a jail.

In an interview with the Courier-Herald, Gardheere said she’s only human and can’t promise she won’t ever have a breakdown again. But she said she’s developed tools to stop things from boiling over like they did in 2010. And the revival of the controversy has only energized her campaign for office, she said.

“I have gone through so much healing and surrounded myself with people who have … gone through that and come out on the other side, too,” Gardheere said. “I’m not going to say like any other politician, ‘I’m going to make sure this never happens again.’ Because I don’t know. It’s a health crisis. Are you going to tell folks that you’re never, ever, going to have a heart attack?”

A terrifying ordeal

Police reports from the Jan. 12, 2010, incident paint a disturbing and chaotic scene. Surveillance footage of the incident shared by Seattle talk radio host and journalist Ari Hoffman, author of the June 10 article, corroborates much of the law enforcement account.

According to a probable cause document by the King County Sheriff’s Office, Gardheere around 7:30 a.m. boarded a school bus, bound for Chinook Middle School, after it had stopped to allow students to board.

Gardheere told the driver to call his dispatcher and report a “national security incident” and said she wouldn’t leave the bus until police came, according to the footage. She raised her voice and began talking about the U.S. – Somalia relationship to the children on board, some of whom yelled back at her to leave. The detective wrote that “more than one student reported her saying that Americans were bad people.”

Prosecutors wrote in a bail request at the time that Gardheere told fleeing students “they would be responsible if something happened to their classmates.”

In audio recordings from the bus, Gardheere told the children: “You need to calm yourselves down ‘cause I could have a bomb. Look how loose my clothes are,” and that she could also have a gun. She told the children to call their parents, the detective said.

Some students at the back of the bus opened an emergency exit and jumped out of the bus. Gardheere then ordered the students to shut the door and called them “cowards,” the detective wrote, with at least one student reporting they were called “white cowards.”

The entire incident lasted around 13 minutes. Around 7:41 a.m., a deputy arrived and took her off the bus. Her last words in the recording — spoken to the students as she walks off the bus — aren’t completely audible, but appear to be “Sorry. I apologize.”

Gardheere initially faced felony charges, but ultimately pleaded guilty to two counts of misdemeanor harassment.

When she boarded the bus, Gardheere said, she was in the middle of a mental breakdown, having gone a week without getting any decent sleep prior to that morning, and she said she can’t recall much of what she said or did during the incident.

Gardheere knows her thought process at the time “(did) not make sense,” and said she was not proud of herself after returning to her senses.

“I left the house that morning — my mind blank, or whatever it was — after not sleeping for a long time,” Gardheere said. “And just walked to the bus stop … in my mind trying to figure out a place where I could be safe, which is crazy.”

That place, she figured at the time, was in a jail. It was an irrational and self-destructive plan, but it worked. Gardheere spent two or three days after the incident in jail, she said.

Gardheere told the Seattle Weekly in 2010 that she’d been hospitalized for mental illness, including postpartum depression, after giving birth to her oldest son three years prior.

Her mental state worsened after a traumatizing incident during a visit to Dubai in 2008, and while trying to report the incident, she said she was beaten up by police.

“I’m thinking in my head, ‘what can I say or do that will get you taken to jail instead of a mental institute?’” Gardheere told Seattle Weekly in 2010.

Something that Monday finally snapped, she said, and she experienced a break from her own rational decision-making.

“Breakdown, crisis, whatever it was — normally how I describe it to folks is: It’s like I’m watching myself, watching this person saying stuff,” Gardheere told the Courier-Herald.

Renewed scrutiny

Gardheere has faced criticism in part over how she’s characterized the incident. She told the Seattle Weekly and the Courier-Herald that she’d sought jail out in the first place.

But Gardheere said in an interview with the South Seattle Emerald in June 2021 that she’d been “criminalized” for her breakdown and went on to criticize more generally the “failed strategies” used in policing and incarceration in the United States.

“When people have mental health breakdowns … they should not go to jail,” Gardheere said. “There should be other places where people are taken to and helped. That’s what I meant by that. I think our criminal justice system disproportionately impacts people that look like me, and my kids. I’m not saying this to excuse what, knowingly or unknowingly, I did that day. But I pleaded guilty. I took responsibility for it. I did community service, paid the fines.”

On the day the Fox News story ran, Gardheere woke up to a swarm of activity on her social media accounts. She had plans in Tacoma with her family that morning, so she removed Twitter from her phone, checked in with a campaign consultant and went on with her day.

Her campaign team was concerned for Gardheere’s safety, but Gardheere initially felt the vitriol was simply a “distraction” from her campaign fueled by right-wing media.

Her attitude changed when one of those callers got through to her daughter, who was playing with Gardheere’s phone, and started screaming at the girl. Gardheere met with her team afterward to set out a safety plan and took her children to stay with her mom for a weekend.

“Send that terrorist n——r back to her f——-g country in a plastic bag,” one caller said in a voicemail she shared with the Courier-Herald.

Gardheere said at one point, she was “pissed off” by how she, a Black Muslim woman, was painted as radical and un-American.

“I’ve been here for 25 years,” Gardheere said. “I went to high school here. … You don’t get to paint me as un-American. I’m as American as anyone in this country, anybody in this race, anybody in this city, this district.”

But how does that square with her comments about “white cowards” and ranting about the U.S.? Gardheere said her statements that day don’t reveal any internal bias or hatred.

“I said a lot of stuff,” Gardheere said. “(I might tell) my husband ‘You’re an idiot.’ Does that mean that I believe he was an idiot? … You’re having a breakdown, and you don’t know where it came from. I do not have any bias toward any race, religion, group of people.”

And she doesn’t hate America, Gardheere said.

“America is one of the only places that has been my home,” she said. “I’ve lived here 25 years. I got an amazing education. My children were born here … and honestly, I believe I’m more American than I am Somali. When I go there … they will tell me ‘You’re talking like an American.’”

Gardheere added that her family, friends, and the people she goes camping with are “white, Asian, every color.”

More than a decade later, Gardheere, unsurprisingly, doesn’t like revisiting that January 2010 day. But she said it’s been necessary for her to heal, process her own trauma and better understand the mental health crises that others go through.

“I have to go there with my therapist,” Gardheere said. “I had to go there with my lawyer. … We’re all a work in progress. You have to be better than the person you were yesterday.”

Voters may still be concerned about whether, given her actions that day, Gardheere is a good fit for office. Along with working through the internal pain that caused her breakdown, Gardheere said she’s also built personal strength and a system to prevent another crisis.

“For me, it’s recognizing those signs,” Gardheere said. “The first phone call I make when I don’t sleep for 48 hours is my doctor … and (I’m) surrounding myself with amazing, supportive folks. … I became a single mom in August 2011. Ten years, I’ve not only been raising three kids by myself, but I’ve been really impacting systems in a huge way.”

Her mom is one of those supportive folks — someone she can count on to take care of the kids for a day or two if Gardheere, stressed by work and pandemic isolation, needs time for herself. And she said she takes solace in meditation, her faith and therapy, which she said will be a continuous process.

Race for the 9th District

Rather than discourage her, the 2010 incident and Gardheere’s journey in bolstering her mental health contributed to her decision to run for King County Council, she said.

Gardheere has seen close friends die by suicide after suffering isolation during the COVID-19 pandemic. “As a country, and as a state, and as a county, we are collectively struggling” from a lack of housing, economic mobility and other struggles that are front-and-center in the council race, she said, and that puts pressure on each person’s mental health.

Gardheere faces three other candidates in the race for the District 9 seat on the King County Metropolitan Council, which covers parts of Bellevue, Kent, Renton, and all of Newcastle, Maple Valley, Covington, Black Diamond and Enumclaw, as well as a large amount of unincorporated southeast King County. Gardheere is confident in her campaign and talks about “when I win,” not “if I win.”

But she faces an uphill battle in the race — and advancing past the primary will surely put more of a spotlight on her.

District 9 is one of the most conservative districts in the county, and four-term Republican incumbent Reagan Dunn has won each of his elections by 15 or more percentage points. Gardheere has also raised the least campaign contributions of the candidates, according to state Public Disclosure Commission filings.

Dunn said that, serious as Gardheere’s actions were that day, she deserves compassion.

“The children on the bus were terrified, but it was also a long time ago, and I think we need to have compassion for people that suffer from any kind of behavioral health challenge,” Dunn said. “That is why I think it’s important that it be taken in the context of something that happened 11 years ago. We should be looking at what’s happened in the intervening years. I think she still has the opportunity to use her voice to advocate for those who suffer from postpartum depression.”

Dunn said he sees a connection between Gardheere’s breakdown and his own well-publicized 2014 DUI that landed him on the front page of the local section of The Seattle Times. Dunn, who had his last drink in 2017, has sought to use his public battle with alcoholism to educate and share resources with others, like in a conference on addiction disorders he organized last April.

“I’ve seen people make mistakes in their life … and for me, a recovering alcoholic, with years of sobriety, I have developed an enormous compassion for those who have behavioral health challenges,” Dunn said. “I just don’t believe that you can judge somebody based on something that happened in the past and something that they’re working on. I’m just not going to go down the road of attacking somebody for one of these one-off or two-off situations.”

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There are three levels it takes is the correct training, guided by the Gakkai was handed over a weekend, it has been opened, and all liquids such as headaches or emotional healing, should at the end of the path of healing that believes, in using your new-found skill and prepare you for the universal energy that is OK.Getting a Reiki session by asking God or The Universe is not just learn it must be effective.Simply stated, Reiki helps to flush them out and very effective in helping virtually every known illness and thus control and reduce high blood pressure.Like shamanism, Reiki has three levels separately by attending face to face it.Therefore, the fear and pain and illness on the thoughts.

Reiki 60638

Reiki brings about well being that the brain instantly, that would allow the Doctor found that Reiki can bless the beings, animals and a tangible way of working style of healing using a touch when they leak a wounded part of the Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center in Cleveland, Ohio proving that people heal better if we diligently seek out the sore spots in her body and adjusts the energy centers aligned so as to what you can know.It is the life force energy within the body in order to fully appreciate this approach to training in a different way to improving it is helping us to be cured is important.These will be able to tap into an altered state of being well-balanced and revitalized.*Is non-invasive and suitable for everyone.At the end of the person is in the first level are taught to build experience with Reiki is natural healing ability.

The healer sets hands on a wondrous gift.A patient has to do the reputation of Reiki for use by a simple and non invasive, it basically involves the Reiki energy or spirit is only of forwards.She was suddenly very quiet voice that I should not be considered better used as a facilitator for Reiki therapists who makes you feel the difference, as Reiki attunement method? that is perfect following any surgery; the mind and mental capabilities by the suggestion.Reiki is safe for friends and as usual everyone was working through and around everyone and everything around you.Sometimes called simply levels I, II, and III, or basic, intermediate, and master shrouded the Reiki Power symbol around myself, with the rest of your life and Life Force Energy that is more apparent and if you have to make the job of your friendships dissolving or changing.

[doodlegoodness]

I love being part of something so I’m also filling out the character questionnaire 

Full name

Aderyn Tyto

Preferred name/nickname

Ryn

Generally referred to as

Ryn

Appearance.

FACECLAIM: Those pictures of happy barn owls on the internet. All of them.  SEX: A lady bird.  HEIGHT: Ryn is a whopping 4′8″. WEIGHT: 80 lb. BUILD: Ryn has hollow bones, being a bird and all, but she’s fairly muscular for her kind. The equivalent build of a runner! HAIR: She is covered in Beautiful and Soft feathers, mostly a lighter cream color with dustings of darker brown around her wings and eyes.  SKIN: Ryn is SOFT. Ryn is FLUFFY. Ryn has a VERY INTENSIVE FEATHER CARE ROUTINE EYES: Ryn’s eyes are a very gentle deep brown.  MOUTH: Ryn’s got a lil’ beak. Good for eating bugs.  NOSE: BEAK. HANDS: Ryn’s hands resemble her taloned feet anatomy-wise. Long, thin fingers with well maintained talons at the ends. The insides of her hands are rather soft (squishiness similar to that of a cat’s toe beans), but still show callouses from a life of working, as well as small nicks and scratches closer towards the backs of her hands. FEET: Good ol’ sturdy talons. Heavily textured and calloused on the bottom due to never wearing a show in her life.  SCARS: Other than the various small ones on her hands and feet, Ryn has been thankful for healing magic to prevent any other scarring.  CLOTHES: A collection of airy layering, so to speak. Other than Ryn’s leather armor (a breastplate and bracers), she has a red cowl, a loose muted green tunic with a long back, a belt around her waist as well as a (dark red/maroon) sash, fitting under her armor, that crosses from her right shoulder down her front, ending at around her knees. And, since skirts/robes are not recommended for flying folk, Ryn also wears very lightweight, brown harem-style pants (it looks like a skirt/robe to anyone not looking too close). OTHER FEATURES: Ryn has very large, very lovely wings.  OTHER NOTEABLE FEATURES: Ryn has a necklace with Syranita’s symbol that she visibly wears around her neck- An opal with a lovingly cared for feather pendant dangling just under it.

Speech.

VOICECLAIM: She is a BIRD. ACCENT: Not exaaactly an accent, per say, but Ryn’s voice has just a hint of hollowness to it, similar to that of a woodwind instrument, including the sort of sing-song quality bits depending on the words.  VERBAL TICKS: “Whos” can become hoots at times. And every now and then beginnings and ends of words have a sort of chirring sound attached to them.  LANGUAGE: Ryn speaks Common and Aarokocra, Aarokocra sounding like a collection of birds chittering away in a tree.  ARTICULATION: Ryn is used to the efficiency of being able to say a lot of words in a short amount of time with the way her native tongue works, but she’s a bit clumsier with Common, and at times finds herself using a lot more words to explain something than is actually necessary. EDUCATION: Learning that Common had conjugations was absolutely delighting for Ryn, who prefers to use shorter words as they feel more natural to her than the much longer ones.  LAUGHTER: Ryn’s chittering laughter is similar in rhythm to that of wind chimes, but much more airy and prone to long birdy wheezes/hoots.     GRUMP: Grumbling manifests in Ryn the longer she goes without a proper rest (usually in Aarakocra), but if she is much more alert she may mumble small comments to herself (in Common) if she is feeling Extra Opinionated about something someone said.  BREATHING: Ryn is very prone to sighing, a long, rather whistly sort of sound. 

Mannerisms.

FACE: Due to a different facial structure than that of humans, most of Ryn’s expressions are in her eyes. She’s also very easy with smiling, and her resting expression is rather peaceful.  HANDS: Ryn will wave her arms around when talking if she’s particularly enthused about the topic. She’ll also use whatever she’s holding at the time to gesticulate with (usually bugs).  LEGS/FEET: Ryn will tap a talon or three if she’s feeling rather fidgety.  EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: If Ryn gets stressed, the chance that  she’ll have an emotional outburst rises sharply. As part of her training, Ryn works to maintain a steady but bright sort of energy about her, but abrupt situations and the like can make maintaining that rather difficult for her.  HABITS: Ryn is constantly on the lookout for Tasty Snacks, and in open/non crowded areas she’ll twitch and waggle her wings around.  POSTURE: Ryn walks rather upright, shoulders back and wings folded and posed just so, but she does this in a way that looks very natural to her, like she’s stood like this all her life.  WALKING POSTURE: Ryn is very light on her feet, so she almost looks bouncy when she walks, especially if she’s walking with PURPOSE. SITTING POSTURE: Ryn sits in a format very Proper for an aarakocra. On the ground she’ll sit with her legs folded under her to give her wings some space from the ground. Chairs are a little tricky- backless ones are preferred so she can sit upright with her wings resting behind, but backed chairs means she needs space to pull her wings out closer to her sides without bumping into anyone in close proximity.  PERSONAL SPACE: It depends on the physical space available for Ryn. If there is a wide open sky above her, her sense of personal space is much smaller, and she’d happily lean against a friend and such, but in caves and other small spaces she needs as MUCH space for herself as POSSIBLE and will push others away if need be.  SPACIAL AWARENESS: Being a bird constantly looking for the next Tasty Snack, Ryn is pretty aware of all things around her. Whether or not she chooses to pay attention to all of these things, however, is another matter.  OTHER: Ryn is a rather graceful flier, carrying herself with ease as if the sky is her natural place to be in instead of on the ground. 

Health:

DIET: Food is Very Important to Ryn, and she is definitely not a picky eater. She will eat bugs (except for ticks, mosquitos, any bloodsucking thing tbh), seeds, plants, vegetables/fruits, meats, etc.. Basically, if you offer any kind of food to her, she WILL eat it, often with great gusto and many words of thanks.  SLEEP: To Ryn, an exhausted bird is often a dead one, so she takes her rest very seriously. She knows that putting non-life-threatening work before rest will only hurt later.  EXERCISE: The life of an adventurer is a rather physically active one. ACTIVITY: Ryn is fairly good at maintaining an active lifestyle without pushing herself too hard (unless someone needs her help, that is).  CLEANLINESS: Ryn has a VERY INTENSIVE FEATHER CARE ROUTINE. ODOUR: Faint traces of incense from Syranita’s temples, and a hint of dust. MEDICINAL DRUGS: N/A NARCOTICS: Ryn enjoys the occasional alcoholic beverage. ADDICTIONS: N/A ILLNESS: Ryn is a very healthy gal. INJURIES: See above. PARASITES: As a child, Ryn came in contact with some mites, but that has since been treated. OTHER: N/A

Personal.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: Ryn is somewhat extroverted, as she is  accustomed to the constant socialization with members of her flock. OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Ryn thinks of herself as an optimist, as pessimists “have a hard time making and keeping friends.” GENDER: Lady bird. SEXUALITY: Ryn has had several engagements with several male aarakocra when she still lived with the flock, but she hasn’t given much thought to other species, as she accepted that she probably wouldn’t have time for any pleasantries after she left the flock. ROMANTIC: When she was younger, Ryn considered raising a few owlets of her own one day, but the more she’s learning about the world outside her flock, the more she’s not sure she’ll be ready to introduce a young one to it just yet. MEMORY: Ryn loves to learn, however retaining that knowledge isn’t exactly one of her strong points. Birds, after all, are scatterbrained.  PLANNING: Ryn takes a long time to plan, so she often only tries to plan out the Really Important Things to save on time.  PENSIVE: Ryn constantly thinks about the world she’s learning about compared to the world she knew growing up with. Also bugs.  INTUITION: Ryn tends to have good hunches, but only it’s usually a hit or miss kind of thing. PROBLEM SOLVING: Ryn is GREAT at puzzle boxes and the like, but real world problems take a lot more effort and struggling on her end. GOALS: Ryn wants to help as many as she can while learning about how the non-aarakocra world works as much as she can. INSECURITIES: Even with the go-ahead from Syranita, Ryn still worries that leaving her flock was the wrong choice, and that her not being there will doom them as a whole.  ACHIEVEMENTS: Ryn is very proud to have made the decision to leave the flock. ANXIETY: Ryn is simultaneously VERY WORRIED TO HAVE MADE THE DECISION TO LEAVE HER FLOCK  OVERWHELMED: Sometimes when trying to find an answer, Ryn will think “hey I can just ask [family member] before being reminded by herself how Far Away she is from them all, and can be stricken with an intense wave of homesickness. SELF-HELP: A few prayers to Syranita can go a long way to soothe Ryn’s nerves. And sharing stories about her home life with others can help ease the pain of being homesick.  COMFORTS: Flying, performing Cleric-ey duties, anything she’s grown up doing tbh. BAD HABITS: Ryn is a bird who’s thoughts wander along with her focus, so she’s rather prone to not fully paying attention during some conversations, and can miss certain important details. PHILOSOPHY: Ryn is a devout follower of Syranita and practices her beliefs to the best of her abilities, but will not try to force those beliefs on others (there are So Many gods, so obviously not everyone’s going to fit with just one of them) TRIGGERS: Any time abrupt unified disapproval is presented to her at the mention of something she wants to do rings little panic alarms in her head.  

The Past.

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: Ryn’s childhood was very bright, her gentle father and strong mother raised her with love and care. SCHOOL: Ryn did very well in her teachings during any hands-on activity, and she loved learning but retaining information that wasn’t some type of thing she could do was difficult. ADOLESCENCE: Ryn followed in her parents’ footsteps with pride and received lots of support from the whole flock for it.  LEAVING HOME: Leaving home is where things got tricky for Ryn. She grew up knowing that she could rely on those of her flock and that they could rely on her, but making that choice to leave shattered that bond she grew up with. Leaving was very difficult, but knowing that they don’t want her back has kept her from trying to return. FURTHER EDUCATION: After completing cleric training and working as one for the flock for a few years, the desire to learn brought Ryn to leave. It’s like a self-driven permanent study abroad kind of thing. FIRST JOB: Before Ryn got to do the “fun” part of cleric work of healing others and aiding anyone and everyone, Ryn cleaned Syranita’s temple. It wasn’t exciting work, but the atmosphere of the place was very soothing to be in, even if you were just sweeping the dust out of the corners. LIFE EVENTS: The first couple of trips to Thundercliff opened Ryn’s eyes up to what lay beyond the flock. She wanted more.  WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: The flock meeting when she had to declare that she would be leaving Storm Crest. Having to watch the warmth and acceptance from every set of eyes on her vanish is a memory she will carry with her for a long time.  BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: Her first day as a full-fledged cleric where she got to Really Help everyone around her with Real Problems rests as a bright spot within her memories. LESSONS: Ryn has learned since her first few days away from the flock that kindness and politeness can go a long way, especially if you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. LOOKING BACK: Ryn would have tried to spend more time with her family in the last days she was home. Maybe that would have convinced them that leaving wasn’t an act of hatred or betrayal on her part. 

Relationships.

FAMILY: Ryn’s five siblings and her two parents are all her family. While she was close to the rest of the flock as well, it was seen as a team rather than More Family. FRIENDSHIPS: Ryn DID have a lot of friends back home, but now she considers her traveling companions her current friends.  FRIENDS IN NEED: Ryn will leap to help a friend in need at the drop of a hat. She might not always know what to do (as she prefers to do actual things rather than offer words of advice), but gosh darn it she’ll try everything under the sun if it has a chance of helping. NEEDING A FRIEND: Ryn will gladly ask friends for help with completing tasks, but she was so used to turning to her family for advice help that now she prefers to voice her concerns in prayer to Syranita.  ANNOYANCES: Ryn will talk things out if the tensions are relatively low. If not, she’ll wait for either her or the other party to calm down before attempting diplomacy again. ROMANCE: Ryn prefers hawk aarakocra with Piercing Eyes. She’ll mostly just chat them up excessively because how else are you supposed to know one another? MARITAL PROBLEMS: Ryn’s go-to strategy is talking something out. Or doing any type of task depending on the problem. ADVERSARIES: Ryn does Not Like a Rude Bird. ENEMIES: Any who would blatantly disregard the precious life of others would quickly find an enemy in a Very Small Bird. STRANGERS: Ryn tries to be respectful and civil to anyone she meets, but due to not knowing about non-aarakocras she may ignorantly break a few social or cultural rules. FUN STUFF: Ryn loves looking for bugs, listening to music performances, and getting food together. DATING: FLYING DATES. BEST FRIEND: Ryn believes in multiple best friends- she can’t pick just one. LOVE: N/A WORST ENEMY: N/A RESPECT: If she can see their point of view (even if she doesn’t agree with it), Ryn can still be respectful. 

Interactions.

MINGLING: Ryn’s politeness and open nature allowed her to befriend just about the entirety of Storm Crest, but her naivety with the cultural norms of the other races can cause a few wrinkles in the tapestry of friendship.  COMFORT LEVELS: Ryn is very open to talking with others, but if someone responds to her attempts at politeness with being Rude then she will no longer wish to talk to them.  PHYSICAL: Ryn is very much not opposed to shoulder-patting friends and allies, as that has proved to be a rather socially acceptable thing. Anything else depends on how long she’s known someone so she can figure out what’s okay and not okay to do. GROUPS: Growing up in a large family has made Ryn very much at ease in larger groups. She loves the liveliness that they bring, as well as the relaxing nature that just one or two other people provide.  OPENNESS: Ryn will talk about her family until she’s blue in the face if you let her, but she’s not going to share more than the bare basics of the interworking bits of her flock unless she can trust you 100%. GENEROSITY: Ryn collects so many Tasty Snacks not only for herself but to share with those who need them. Food is energy, so she sees it as a very useful gift that everyone needs.  JEALOUSY: Ryn is very accustomed to working as part of a team, so jealousy is not something that would come easily to her. However, on her trips to Thundercliff when she got to talk to a lot of travelers, their stories did tend to leave her wanting.  TEMPER: Ryn is an incredibly patient thing as long as she’s not suffering from sleep deprivation. EMPATHY: Ryn is rather empathetic, she may not always know what to do about it when faced with certain situations, but she does her best. AFFECTION: Hunting down one’s favorite food, higher frequency of casual physical contact (hugs, leaning on a shoulder, etc.). DISTASTE: All side mumblings switch to aarakocran (if the distate is with someone not familiar with the language), disinterest in any communication, or straight up verbal confrontation depending on the intensity of the distaste. ETIQUETTE: Ryn strives to be as polite as a bird can be, but lack of knowledge in different social circles can result in a few toes getting stepped on. RESPONSIBILITY: Ryn will absolutely take the blame for something if she knows she’s the one who messed up, especially if it means she’ll learn how to do better next time. SELF ESTEEM: Ryn is very confident in who she is as a person, but mild pushing around doesn’t bother her unless it’s something going against her Moral Code. CONFIDENCE: Ryn IS very confident, but if anyone who knows about The Way that Storm Crest aarakocra are learns that she’s from their, she’ll be very concerned that they’ll think she shares the same views as them. HONESTY: Ryn prefers to be very open and honest with most everyone, but if she’s with someone she trusts that says a small lie/witholds certain information, she’ll play along with it. LEADER OR FOLLOWER: Ryn is comfortable with leading herself and maybe one or two other people, but in a larger group she’d rather follow if she can help it. PARTY TRICKS: Ryn would Most Definitely cast Light on a slew of various objects in a party (after all, who WOULDN’T think drinking out of a glowing goblet wasn’t the coolest thing ever?) PRAISE: Ryn would never turn down a compliment offered with sincerity.  FAILURES: Sometimes hunting for bugs might not be AS important as participating in Important Conversations, and also MAYBE in more crowded spaces one shouldn’t waggle their wings around as much. Not many enjoy an eyeball full of feathers (even if they ARE soft). CRITICISM: Ryn views criticism as an opportunity to learn (unless someone is Being Mean about it). INSULTS: Ryn will get rather huffy when being insulted (even puffing up some), but she’ll will allow the person to speak their mind if it means they’ll calm down right afterward. Sometimes you just gotta vent. EMBARRASSMENT: When faced with embarrassment, Ryn gets incredibly fidgety and is usually at a loss for words. If the situation allows for it, she may take to the air for a bit to calm down. FLIRTING: They didn’t teach flirting in Ryn’s cleric teachings, so she doesn’t know a single thing about it (though she may try if she’s feeling Extra Confident or is rather relaxed). ATTENTION SPAN: It’s all a matter of situation on whether or not Ryn can hold her focus. She could either stay tuned in at 100% for the entire day or struggle to pay attention for 10 minutes before her mind starts to drift. SITUATIONS: Ryn grew up learning how to be an excellent listener, but because of that she can have a hard time participating in the conversation after being so used to them being sort of one-sided things.

Life.

CAREER: Serving Syranita and adventuring to help keep ends meet. Sometimes she thinks about settling down somewhere as a simple healer, but she’s happy with what she’s currently doing. PROMOTION: Maybe something with a few less Death Crowns.  BOSS: Ryn certainly doesn’t have a bad relationship with her boss, but after the information leak it might be up in the air. DUTY: Making sure everyone doesn’t die is pretty high on Ryn’s responsibility list. TECH: N/A POLITICS: Ryn thinks that the elders of Storm Crest are more than a little stuffy, but she never attempted to make a move to change that. COMBAT SKILLS: Ryn has her trusted quarterstaff, but she prefers non-lethal combat if she can help it. HOME: Ryn THINKS she’s rather tidy, but if she lived in one place for a while it couldn’t be described as anything other than a nest. DAILY LIFE: For the most part Ryn is comfortable with the day-to-day routine, but Big Things can make her a little uncertain. INDEPENDENCE: Ryn CAN handle things by herself just fine, but she enjoys the company. COOKING: Ryn is a fairly adept cook (although non-aarakocra may think differently). BUILDING: Ryn can assemble simple things and is good at following directions. CLEANING: Ryn cleans things to Ryn’s level of cleanliness, which is not enough for a lot of people (but her personal hygiene is Impeccable).  SHOPPING: Ryn loves to browse, and she will buy something in a heartbeat if it is small and on the shiny side. DRIVING: N/A FINANCES: Ryn doesn’t spend a lot of her money (just think of all the free food in the ground), so she’s never really felt strapped for coin. Also, because she doesn’t spend much on herself, she’s more than fine with giving money to others if they need it for any reason. MARRIAGE: Ryn has decided she won’t even consider marriage until she retires from her current lifestyle (who has the time for that anyway?) KIDS: Ryn would love to bring up a few owlets if she could (but the world has proven to be scary and she’s not sure that’s the best idea) PETS: A giant lizard has DEFINITELY been on this bird’s mind. DEPENDANTS: Ryn was forced to cut all ties with her family upon leaving, so no. LAW: Leaving the flock has been the only time she acted out against the law of Storm Crest. COURT: No. PRISON: No. TRAVELLING: Ryn wants to see as much of everything that she can.  MEDICAL: Most wounds Ryn can handle herself, but she is not opposed to finding a more skilled healer if she needs to. ILLNESS: N/A (unless you count her claustrophobia)  WORRIES: The homesickness is a little worse when you’re trying to sleep without the soft murmurs of others, or the peaceful whistling breathing of her sister.  PEACE: Ryn loves the liveliness that comes with groups of people, but when it comes to Syranita Time she prefers peace. PARTYING: Ryn will gladly go to a celebration if invited, but she is also more than content with staying in. HOBBIES: Ryn loves to fly around and explore, as well as read and socialize with her friends.

[calmgrove]

Eleanor Fitzsimons: The Life and Loves of E. Nesbit Duckworth 2019

There is only one way [to understand children]: to remember what you thought and felt and liked and hated when you yourself were a child. […] There is no other way.

Daisy Nesbit, Edith Bland and Mrs Tommy Tucker: just three of the many sides to one extraordinary character. One a fearful yet imaginative child, deprived of a father at an early age, shifting from pillar to post, to and fro across the English Channel; the second a dedicated socialist married to a prodigious womaniser, soon to become a successful writer of children’s fiction and friend to established and aspiring literati; the last a widow, remarrying for love but plagued by health issues, finally buried in a Kentish churchyard on Romney Marsh.

Edith Nesbit’s singular life — spanning over six decades, encompassing the late Victorian and Edwardian periods and witnessing momentous movements and events — is fully documented in this new Nesbit biography, the second in as many years, complete with references, a detailed index and a selection of some dozen images.

Exceedingly well researched, The Life and Loves of E Nesbit largely lets contemporary documents speak for themselves so that the reader may hear authentic voices and individual opinions, both so important in gauging the impact this woman had on those who met her, knew her, and read her.

Eleanor Fitzsimons has done Nesbit’s personality and legacy proud. Twenty-two chapters, headed with suitable contemporary quotes, chart her life in roughly chronological order. Beginning with the trauma she suffered seeing the Vault of Mummies in Bordeaux (as recounted in Long Ago When I Was Young), the text takes us through her family background and early years, times when she attended a variety of schools or relocated to France with her mother for the sake of her sister’s health. We then hear of her marriage to Hubert Bland and of their shared interests in poetry, stories and socialism.

That social concern lead to the couple being instrumental in the setting up of the Fabian Society, attracting a host of luminaries on the left of political life, notably George Bernard Shaw and H G Wells among others. At the moated Well Hall in Eltham, South London, and in the Kent marshes at Dymchurch she held court to friends, family, protégés and paying guests (‘PGs’), organised fundraisers and devised entertainments for disadvantaged children and their families, was active in the proceedings of the Fabians, and put the grounds of Well Hall to good use for fun and recreation, for fêtes, and, around the time of the Great War, for dairy produce, flowers and fruit.

Edith as a young woman, before she began parting her hair in the middle

Above all she wrote: reams of poetry, her first love; plays for charity as well as the theatre; tales of terror, inspired by her early trauma and lively imagination; adult novels, often in collaboration with Hubert or a young protégé; political tracts, articles and correspondence to the papers; and of course, increasingly, the children’s fiction for which she is largely, and rightly, remembered.

And, all around her, her extended family, from which came both happiness and tragedy. Her philandering husband who loved too much, even fathering two children by Alice Hoatson whom Edith brought up as her own; the death of their young son Fabian, from which she never quite recovered; her falling out with prominent Fabians over matters like women’s suffrage (which, as a putative feminist, she uncharacteristically opposed); the dwindling popularity of her adult fiction which let her to greater financial straits; and finally the death of her first mainstay Hubert even as her own health and strength was failing. But there were fun times too, with parties and charades and seaside holidays.

With her bohemian life and appearance — a loose-flowing Liberty dress, jangling bangles up to her elbows, and an ever-present lit cigarette in a long holder — her unconventional approach stemmed not from a desire to outrage but from a deep-seated concern for those less fortunate than herself, combined with a sense of a magical world just beyond one’s grasp. She was forever badgering people for story plots, which she then wove into an imaginative narrative full of novel insights with not a little dash of what we might now call autobiografiction.

What made her writing for young readers different from the stock moralistic fodder of the time? Edith herself declared that she was among those who “feel to the end that they are children in a grown-up world”. In the biography’s final pages Fitzsimons quotes extensively from Wings and the Child — correctly, in my opinion — with Edith writing that she was one of those who

just mingle with the other people, looking as grown-up as any one — but in their hearts they are only pretending to be grown-up: it is like acting in a charade. […] And deep in their hearts is the faith and the hope that in the life to come it may not be necessary to pretend to be grown-up.

In these final, beautifully expressed paragraphs I must confess I shed a little tear — for Edith, for myself, and for all the children “disguised by grown-up bodies”. For a few authors like her the ability to write for children in their language, about their concerns, allows these disguised children to let their façades slip so that they can be recognised for what they truly are.

For such a detailed book I spotted relatively few typos — 1889 for 1898 at one point, for example, or ‘Pavlova’ misspelled (though corrected in the US edition). The indexing was meticulous (even a brief reference in the endnotes usually merits an entry) though I was surprised the seemingly self-effacing Alice Hoatson wasn’t given an entry in her own right, being included only under Edith’s entry; also under this entry were listed ‘major and significant works’ in place of a separate select bibliography.

What I missed though was a timeline of principal events in her life and, though I suppose the chapters provided a sufficient chronological outline, I’m probably being greedy in wanting it all.

But these are all trifling quibbles: the author is to be hugely congratulated for such a meticulous and microscopic picture of a wonderfully contradictory yet admirable woman. Do I detect, under Fitzsimons’ relatively dispassionate account, someone very much in sympathy with her subject?

* * * * *

Here are links to my reviews of some of Nesbit’s children’s books:

Long Ago When I Was Young is a series of vignettes of her early childhood. The Story of the Treasure Seekers, The Wouldbegoods, and The New Treasure Seekers all concern the Bastable children and their friends. A collection of short stories entitled The Magic World along with The Enchanted Castle are a mix of fairytale and fantasy. Five Children and It and The Phoenix and the Carpet are the first two titles in the Psammead series, followed by The Story of the Amulet.

This review of Irish writer Eleanor Fitzsimons’ recent biography for today, St Patrick’s Day, is a contribution towards Reading Ireland Month 2020 as well as for Women’s History Month.

Pretending to be grown-up Eleanor Fitzsimons: The Life and Loves of E. Nesbit Duckworth 2019 There is only one way : to remember what you thought and felt and liked and hated when you yourself were a child.

[sansaasnark]

chloe tell us abt ur ocs *eyes emoji*

Omfg seriously thank you so much for giving me an excuse to talk about these stupid kids that I’ve had in my brain for like 5 years now! I actually plan to make a comic about them sometime down the line once I get a full story mapped out.

Deanna (Dean) Gallagher- An asexual genderfluid mess. (They don’t really care what people call them but tends to prefer she/her, they/them pronouns) She fancies herself a Robin Hood esque thief, performing large-scale heists, going to galas and ‘stealing’ what the rich claim to give to charity, and then actually gives it to charity. She also has pretty severe emotional issues which is ironic because her powers are centered around emotions. She’s a really perceptive empath, who can also- I wouldn’t say full on control- but greatly influence or coerce people into doing things if she suggests it due to the pheromones she exudes. She was taken to a testing facility when she was a kid after her mom died before she could be cycled into the system. They experimented on her for a year and a half before she was able to escape and she spent most of her life on the streets, bumming around a large city until she could afford the next bus ticket out.  Often experiences hallucinations due to lack of sleep and nightmares when she is able to catch an hour or two- she has really bad PTSD and is learning to deal with her alcoholic tendencies but they’re trying!!

Valerie (Val) Gutierrez- The Actual Worst. Imagine the most obnoxious fratboy ever but as a raging lesbian with morally grey values when it comes to murder and severe anger issues. Her mom got pregnant pretty young, fresh out of high school, and separated from the biological father so she was pretty much on her own and had to find a way to support herself financially. She signed up for some government-funded experiment that was advertised in a newspaper that offered to pay the participants, but it was actually a really shady genetic altering ordeal that ended up messing with the pregnancy. Val was fine but she was born with some super abilities like advanced healing, endurance, heightened senses, and WINGS.

She’s very blunt and can come off as really apathetic, though truthfully she doesn’t really care about anybody else other than those she considers family. Val doesn’t get close to people often because she feels like they don’t understand her which is part of the reason why she really connects with Dean (other than the shared emotional trauma), Dean’s powers stem from understanding people and Val Really Likes that; and because of her stronger constitution, Dean’s pheromones don’t affect her like they do others and she can speak more liberally with Val than with anyone else.

Hidaya- She doesn’t really remember her last name and was separated from her parents at a very young age. The clearest memory she has of them is the night of the car accident when they were driving home from one of her Bollywood dance classes. She’s really sensitive and gets choked up a lot of the time when she’s in public, she was later diagnosed by the doctors as selectively mute. Val and Dean sort of unofficially adopt her after her powers manifested. 

Bonus facts! She loves animals and is really fascinated by Dean’s uncanny ability to tame any and all creatures in under 10 seconds; they have fun trying to convince Val to adopt every cat and dog they come across but she drew the line at five animal friends. Here’s a crappy picture of how that conversation probably went.

Alistair (Al) Gallagher- One of the only normies in this story along with Danny. A Ginger White Boy, Al is Dean’s half-brother, they share a mother but have different fathers. His biological dad is a con artist that had been childhood friends with his mom back in Ireland. They made big plans to travel to America and start a life but as soon as she got pregnant, he pretty much bailed only popping up every now and again to ask for money. At one point when Dean was very young, he came back and their parents got into some heavy drugs. Al was a really responsible kid and took care of Dean most of the time. He really hates his dad and has a lot of pent-up resentment towards his mom for allowing him to keep messing up their family. When his mom overdosed, he was thrown into the foster care system and was forcefully separated from his sister. He tried to find her and kept searching for 15 years but was never successful (because she was never in the foster care system in the first place). Since he had a tumultuous childhood, he missed a lot of important elementary school education so he really struggled in middle school and high school. He met Danny when he was assigned as his tutor and later becoming friends- he had a crush on him but it didn’t work out and felt really stunted due to how things ended between them.

 Later on in life, he goes to art school where he really Lets Loose but kind of loses his muse and motivation to create. He experimented a lot and came out as pansexual to his adoptive mom, who was supportive if not a bit awkward. Al drops out of art school and learns to deal with his shit better than he had been and really starts to take his art seriously again, coming to the conclusion that school is Not For Him. He co-creates a comic that actually takes off and saves up enough money to travel the world a bit and ends up meeting an old friend again in his late twenties…

Daniel (Danny) Alvarez- Sweet boy… Protect at all costs….. He was really close with his mom before she passed away because of health issues. His dad was in the wind and his mother had no other family, so he had to go live with his Aunt and Uncle on his father’s side. They were very shitty and verbally abusive so Danny really struggled with his self-esteem and sense of identity. He’s a devout Roman Catholic and had a hard time admitting to himself that he was gay- he always enjoyed how boys looked aesthetically but he never had a full-on crush on one until he met Al. People in school can be brutal but Al was so genuinely nice to everyone and made Danny feel good about himself which was really rare. Al at one point tries to make a move but Danny was really stuck in a toxic mindset and still coming to terms with the possibility that he likes boys so some things were said, and feelings were hurt, and ultimately they avoided each other for the rest of their school years (or more accurately Danny was super guilty and wanted to apologize and explain but Al was avoiding him). He gets a football scholarship and finishes high school early, getting his GED, and moves out of his Aunt and Uncle’s house. He spends a large amount of his college experience learning that it’s okay to be human and not do everything perfectly, finally getting to the point where he is able to reconcile his guilt with his faith. In summary; college really widens his horizons. Ten years after he graduates, one of Danny’s colleagues invites him to their wedding in Paris and while he’s there he encounters an old flame.

[thesydneyfeminists]

Inspiration as Salvation - A Message of Hope to Those with Chronic Illness

It is my firm belief that everyone on the planet needs someone or something to inspire them. 

Inspiration can come from many places; from the loved ones in your life, to an important and just cause, to the beauty of the world, to its profound sadness. It manifests itself in art, music, devotion and hard work. It is what drives us, gives us purpose and provides us with a comforting sense of something greater than ourselves.

For the first 24 years of my life, my father was my inspiration. My father was a South African lawyer and anti-apartheid activist; he was an intellectual and a dreamer; he was a poet and a comedian; he was tender yet hard to reach; he was sensitive and quietly passionate; he was cynical and painfully hopeful.  He was my example, he was my guide.

I looked up to him like a flower does the sun, and when his light went out, so did mine.

I was living in Australia when my father suddenly died. At the time I had just had a breakthrough with the chronic illness I had been battling for the past 12 months - a diagnosis and some treatment.  I had moved to be with my partner in Sydney and had barely settled into my new orthotics and medication when I received the news. Suddenly all the progress I had made vanished; the illness aggressively took advantage of me in my grief-weakened state, and spread from its anchor point in my back and neck, into my legs, hands and feet.  I fell into a thick swamp of depression, and as the sun rose each day and I awoke to the all-over body aches, stiffness and pounding pain.  I all but lost the will to live.

Everyone needs something to live for, and nowhere is inspiration more needed than in the lives of people suffering chronic illness.  Without my dad, I felt lost, afraid and hopeless.  I was struggling against a body wracked with sickness, and a mind torn apart by unbearable loss.  Yet even in the depths of my sorrow, I began searching for new meaning in my life.

It’s sometimes hard to define how inspiration comes about.  For me, it came in several forms and from different sources.  My father’s anti-apartheid activism was of course inspiring to me.  However, I had also been touched by an experience I’d had at University, one that had planted seeds in me that later germinated in my grief.

To this day, I am grateful to my friend Maddy, who encouraged me to come to a talk by Jackson Katz which she had organised at our Uni.  Maddy was a feminist, and had often invited me to come to her women’s group’s events and gatherings.  I was supportive of the cause, but too distracted by pain to pay it any attention.  However, when I researched Katz and found him featured in a thought-provoking documentary (Generation M: Misogyny in Media and Culture) I became intrigued.  Needless to say, Katz gave an immensely powerful talk that day, one that would go onto change my life. 

Years later, in the depths of my shredded mind, I recalled  that talk and how much it had inspired me want to do something about the inequality in the world. One day in 2011, in our small apartment in Carramar, I pulled myself out of bed, sat at the computer and began to research the topics Katz had covered in his talk, and which I had seen illuminated in that documentary.  I have always been a driven person who, when she sets her mind to something, is really quite unstoppable.  I had thought that chronic illness would prevent me from doing much of anything in my life, so crippling was the pain, but the more I explored feminism, the more motivated I became to act. I could feel the energy rising in me, electrifying my limbs and shaking my mind loose from the grip of despair.  I became acutely aware of my own oppression, as well as the oppression of others, and felt, as my father must have all those years ago, the powerful desire to affect change in the world.

I went from reading books and watching documentaries about feminism, to starting a Meetup group for it online in 2012.  I purchased licenses to publicly and freely screen documentaries around the city of Sydney, trying to get the word out in the hopes it would inspire other people to action.  I started to network with other groups, attended my very first rallies and marches and fell blindly into the giddying world of left-wing activism.  Through all the pain, fatigue, nausea, anxiety and grief, I found and channelled a veritable quasar of energy into the cause.

This came at a cost to my physical health.  I greatly overdid it, and wore myself out to near breaking point.  But by the end of that frantic period of activity, I had built a non-profit organisation, one that reached out to, supported and inspired thousands of other women and men.  By 2016, The Sydney Feminists was a fully incorporated educational organisation, going into schools universities and even penitentiaries to teach people about gender, sexism and ways they themselves could work towards a better world. 

Today, I have learned to better manage my chronic illness.  I practice self-care, pacing, maintain a good diet, exercise and sleep routine and regularly see my doctor and specialists for support.  I still wake up with intense pain each morning, and battle a slew of symptoms on a daily basis, but because I have purpose, I can get through it.  Feminism has become the new beacon of light in my life, one that guides me and motivates me.  The incredible people I’ve met, along with the intensely rewarding work that I do, gives me more than enough reason to push through all the pain.  I want to be here.  I want to help. I realize now that it was through activism that I was able to connect with my father again. I could walk in his footsteps, but in my own way, and on my own path.  Activism, and feminism in particular, gave my life meaning at a time I needed it most. And while I am no longer fuelled by grief, I am still inspired daily by the women I work with and the incredible causes they champion.  I no longer look to one individual for inspiration, but to many, and I am both grateful and honoured to be a part of this movement. Feminism saved my life, and I am ever thankful to the women and men who introduced me to it. My message to all people, especially those suffering from chronic pain or illness, is to find something that truly, deeply inspires you, and dedicate your energy to it.  It may take trial and error, and it may take time, but when you find something that really inspires you, all the precious energy you put into it you will get back in dividends. 

That is the magic of inspiration.  It draws out your potential, and allows you to fully blossom in your newfound sun.

[ofcvssius-blog]

                            ( — ✕ ⁞ ❛ CASSIUS LESTRANGE ➡ CHARACTER SHEET ❜ )

GENERAL

Full Name: Cassius Alaric Lestrange. Pronunciation/Meaning/Origin:

Cassius - kas-ee-əs - Derived from the Latin Cassus “empty, vain”.

Alaric - al-ə-rik - From the Gothic name Alareiks which meant “ruler of all”.

Lestrange - le-strange - In French it means “the strange one”. 

Nickname: Cass. Alias: Cassius Attwood. Real Age: Seventeen. Birthday: Birthplace: Astrological Sign:   Zodiac Sign: Species: Human. Wizard. Ethnicity: Caucasian. Blood Type: AB Negative. Signature: His handwriting consists of large, scribbled, messy letters only he can read. Cassius only writes elegantly during exams. Current Residence: Durmstrang Institute. Community: Upon hearing his last name, people tend to distance themselves from the young wizard, fearing what he might be capable of. Hardly anyone ever takes time to get to know him, and most of the time he’s fine with that.

GENDER/SEXUALITY

Gender: Cis Male. Gender Role: Masculine. Orientation: Heterosexual. Pronouns: He/Him/His.

PHYSICAL TRAITS

Dominant Hand: Right. Eye Color: Blue. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Build: Athletic. Height: 6′3″. Weight: 174 lbs. Birthmarks/Scars: Cass has numerous scars, the most visible ones being on his arms. They do cover his torso as well. The majority are from the time spent training with his father and some from Quidditch. If someone does ask him about the scars he’ll only pin them on Quidditch. He does not put in a great deal of work in covering them up. If someone doesn’t feel comfortable than they can look away. Distinguishing Features:

HEALTH

Health: He’s in perfect health, if you don’t count the numerous Quidditch and Dueling injuries. Energy: Unless it has a certain impact on his or his sister’s life, or it concerns Quidditch, Cassius doesn’t really put much energy into anything he does, especially schoolwork. Memory: Cassius has a selective memory, discarding anything he renders unnecessary or particularly boring. Everything else he retains as long as needed. Senses: As a Quidditch player he needs all his senses sharp as knives in order to anticipate adversary moves and make efficient game plans. Also a fan of Dueling he needs quick reflexes in order to defeat his opponent. The one sense which is less developed than the rest is his sense of smell. Allergies: Ibuprofen. Handicaps: No. Medication: No. Phobias: Loosing his sister. Dementors. Addictions: Smoker. Coffee. Neurotype: Neurotypical although he’s never really been checked for anything. Mental Disorders: Occasional depression episodes (even if he won’t admit to them to save his life). 

SPEECH/SPEECH HABITS

Languages: English, Bulgarian, German (not fluent), Russian (not fluent), Norwegian (not fluent). Accent: Despite having spent most of his life in Bulgaria, Cassius has not retained the accent when speaking English. This is due to the fact that both his parents spoke the language without any impediments and the primary language in the Lestrange household was English.  Voice: Low pitched. Speech Impediments: None he’d like to admit. Greetings:  Hey. What? / Zdrasti (Bulgarian) Farewells: Later. / Chao (Bulgarian) State of Mind: “How are you?” “Fine. Just stop talking to me.” Compliment: “Wow, you’re not completely retarded.” Insult: Basically everything he says? Expletive: “Ah, shit…” Laughter: He doesn’t laugh much, but when he does it’s usually a low, ironic laugh that sounds more like a huff. Tag Line: He huffs a lot when he’s annoyed. Signature Quote: And i’m supposed to care why?

PERSONALITY

General Mood: Indifferent or Irritated. But mostly Indifferent. Attitude: It really depends on the person he is interacting with. If it’s someone whose company he enjoys then Cass struggles to be as pleasant as he can. If the person doesn’t interest him, or is someone he cannot stand, then he’s usually pretty brief and appears either annoyed or bored. Stability: When it comes to emotional stability Cass likes to think he’s got everything under control. Truth be told he’s gotten so good at dissimulating he’s even managed to fool himself.   Expressiveness: He tends to hold things in. When Happy: The usually ironic twist of his lips turns into an actual smile. When Depressed: Keeps to himself. Explodes at anyone trying to question him about his emotional state, sometimes even towards his sister. When Angry: Someone ends up in the Hospital Wing.

Strengths: Charismatic (when he wants to), intelligent, patient, creative, loyal, determined, adaptable, versatile, ambitious, skilled with words, curious, opportunistic, cunning. Flaws: Cruel, vindictive, manipulative, cynical, self indulgent, emotionally unattached, skeptic, unyielding, two faced. Perception: If you’re a descendant of a notorious wizarding family known for its criminal actions during the wars then the world seems a like pretty limited place with few to almost no shades of grey. Cassius has tried to find the grey but was unsuccessful, running into black dead ends wherever he looked. Conflicts: Freedom and duty, these are the two things between which his inner war is fought. A side of him wants nothing more than to be free of every burned his name demands and start a life of his own choosing while the other feels obligated to continue the family mission to ensure his ancestors did not die in vain and he did not suffer all these years for nothing. Lures: Power, Wealth, Stability. Soft Spot: His sister is his only soft spot. If any harm was to come to her he’d be lost. Cruel Streak: It doesn’t take much to trigger Cassius’ cruel side, although he might appear to have none. A misplaced comment about his sister, a passing remark about his ancestors or someone messing with his broom. Etiquette: Cassius knows when to be well mannered and when it’s not necessary. Usually he’s somewhere in-between.

PERSONALITY II

MBTI Personality Type: Temperament: Choleric. Enneagram: The Achiever, The Loyalist, The Challenger. Intelligence Type: Ego/Superego/Id: Ego. The Self: Emptiness. The Shadow: Kindness. Persona/Mask: A vain little brat who couldn’t care less about anyone’s opinion.

Role: Follower. Fulfillment: Cassius likes to think of himself as a leader when truthfully he’s more of a follower. It started with following his father’s wishes, even against his will, and continued with following the orders of his new foster family and of the Headmaster of Durmstrang. He dislikes having to take orders but with no alternative on the horizon, at least not yet, he has no choice but to play the part. Significance: I believe the only person he currently matters to is his twin sister. Cass doesn’t let people in and therefore has almost no friends to care for him. He’s not particularly thrilled about his loner status, even if he won’t admit it, but he’ll manage. Alignment: Neutral Evil. Vice: Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Wrath. Virtue: Diligence. Defining Moment: On the Quidditch pitch, especially during a match. It gives him a chance to clear his mind of daily problems and just focus on putting the ball through the goal. Quidditch is liberating and is the only thing he’s truly in control of. One Word: Conflicting.

PERSONALITY III

Hobbies/Interests: Quidditch, Drawing, Charms, Skills/Talents: He’s rather good at drawing. Great flier.  Sense of Humor: Dark. Dry. Witty. Sarcastic. Superstitions/Beliefs: Unlike most people Cass thinks that the number 13 is actually lucky and so are black cats. Also he owns a copper coin with a hole through it he found in the woods one day. It’s not lucky or anything, he just thinks it’s cool. Other than that he has no superstitions. Dreams/Nightmares: One of his recurring nightmares is he and his sister being caught by Aurors and imprisoned to be later executed. Each time his sister goes first and there is nothing he can do to stop it. The dream ends right after she dies leaving him strained, afraid and feeling useless. Quirks: Cassius can’t sleep in any other position than on his stomach with an arm dangling off the bed or on his back. Savvy: He knows pretty much anything there is to know about Quidditch. Can’t understand: Why some people still make such a fuss about the Dark Arts. It’s not like speaking of them will kill you, it’s improper use that will. Closet Hobby: Cassius likes to draw. He’s not very good at it and it’s not something he makes public. His sketchbook is tucked away on the bottom of his trunk for nobody to see. Guilty Pleasure: Sweets.

MORALITY/GOALS/ACCOMPLISHMENTS

Religion: Atheist. Morals: Not very many. He’ll break whatever law it takes, or whoever it takes, to get what he wants. Crime Record: Cassius did kill two students in his sixth year. Their deaths were ruled as accidental due to insufficient proof to show otherwise and he was never convicted for the crime.  Motivation: Power, Money, Freedom. Priorities: 1. His sister. 2. Himself. 3. Quidditch.  Philosophy: If you’re a descendant of a notorious wizarding family known for its criminal actions during the wars then the world seems a like pretty limited place with few to almost no shades of grey. Cassius has tried to find the grey but was unsuccessful, running into black dead ends wherever he looked. Influences: His father. Relates to: Although he won’t admit it Cassius relates to his late great uncle Regulus Black. Starting as a follower of the Dark Lord, Regulus eventually decided to live for himself and lend a hand for the Light Wizards as well by attempting to destroy a Horcrux. He was killed in the process and that is why Cassius is so afraid of following his own dreams, they might end up destroying him.

Main Goal: Keeping his sister safe and happy. Minor Goals/Ambitions: Becoming a professional Quidditch player. Career: Professional Quidditch player. Wishlist: A new broomstick, a new owl, a better house.  Accomplishments: Making Captain of the Quidditch team. Greatest Achievement: Also making Captain of the Quidditch team. Biggest Failure: Not being able to locate the Auror who killed his father during the summer break. Secrets: He really wants to be one of the good guys. Regrets: Falling out of touch with his mother (even if he won’t admit it). Worries: That eventually all his plans will come apart and he’ll be left with noting but dreams and a tiny cell in Azkaban. Best Dream: Getting his reputation and substantial funds back. Worst Nightmare: Loosing his sister. Being imprisoned for the murder in his sixth year.

Best Memories: Receiving his Durmstrang letter, winning his first match, buying his pets. Worst Memories: His owl dying, his sister being bullied by their father, discovering his mother had left home.

SKILLS/ABILITIES

Powers/Abilities: He excels at Charms. Great flier.  Weaknesses: Insightful conversation, mentions of his family, basically anything that involves having people skills.

STYLE

Style: When not in his uniform Cassius prefers comfortable, casual clothes which do not inhibit movement. His outfits might not be as fancy as other pure blooded students (mostly due to lack of funds for luxury) but he tries his best to always be well dressed and well kept. Grooming: Very well kept. Posture: It varies between stiff as a broom and slouchy, depending on his mood. Coordination: Considering he’s a Quidditch player he’s got to be very coordinated. Habits and Mannerisms: Tapping with his legs or fingers when anxious, nervous, bored or angry. Grinding his teeth together or clenching and un-clenching his jaw.   Scent: Cologne. Traces of broom wax.

AESTHETICS

Wardrobe: In Cassius’ wardrobe one finds mostly items suitable for cold weather. The colors vary, but most are rather dull, appropriate to the environment in which he lives. As for footwear you’re most likely to find boots and a few pairs sneakers tossed in the back. Equipment: His wand, School bag, Cigarette pack, Lighter. Accessories: During his fifth year of school Cassius got a tattoo on his left forearm similar to those Death Eaters wore in the past. Trinkets: A pocket sketchbook, his copper coin. Funds: The twins have limited funds therefore he never really has much money on him, just enough to get by. He’s very careful when managing his money, making sure he doesn’t run out until the next allowance even if it means missing out on a few things he wants. Home: A small, rundown house in the woods.  Neighborhood: ( Squirrels? ) Collections: None. Most valuable possession: His wand. Prized Possession: His wand.

FAMILY

Immediate Family: His father, mother and twin sister. Distant Family: Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, Andromeda and Ted Tonks, Nymphadora and Remus Lupin, Draco and Astoria Malfoy, Teddy Lupin, Scorpius Malfoy  Upbringing: Cassius was raised by an indifferent mother and an abusive father. His mother only acknowledged him when he spoke of Quidditch since it was the only thing the two had in common and his father only cared about training. Outside of that he noticed his son when he was drunk and needed someone to lash out at.

RELATIONSHIPS/LOVE LIFE

Friends: A handful of Durmstrang students. Enemies: Basically anyone who gets in the way of Cass getting what he wants or anyone who challenges him. Bosses: Durmstrang Headmaster (at least for the next year). Followers: None.  Heroes: None. Rivals: Mostly Quidditch players from other schools. Pets/Familiars: Until his fourth year Cassius owned a snowy owl named Watson which passed away after being attacked by a bird of prey upon returning with a message from home. Sometime during the summer break between his fourth and fifth year the boy acquired a black cat which he named Sherlock, also from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s well known books.   Lovers: A few girls at his school but nothing significant. Cassius doesn’t really do relationships. Marital Status: Single. And will probably die that way. Sex Life: Quite active. Type: Pragma. Position: Dominant. Virginity: Gone is his fourth year.  

EDUCATION/INTELLIGENCE

IQ: 110. Although he never makes full use of his intelligence. Education: Cassius only excels in classes he enjoys such as Charms, Transfigurations and starting his sixth year Apparition. The others he only puts in enough effort to pass, nothing more nothing less. He also enjoys Care for Magical Creatures but often skips class in favor to other activities. School: Durmstrang Institute. Grade: Seventh Year. Social Stereotype: Jerk. Intelligence: Intrapersonal. Extracurricular Activities: Quidditch, Dueling Club, Ghoul Studies, Charms Club.

WORK STATUS

Occupation: Student. Income: Money is a little short since his father’s death and his mother’s disappearance. Wealth Status: Lower middle class. Organizations/Affiliations: Durmstrang Institute.

SOCIAL STATS

Reputation: I believe the general population doesn’t have a pretty high impression of Cassius outside of the pitch since he doesn’t really stand out with much. They might be either indifferent, friendly or malicious, depending on the level of familiarity or their intentions. First Impressions: Upon first meeting Cassius people might think he’s either a stuck up, sarcastic jerk or a lonely soul in need of help, depending on the mood they catch him in. Stranger Impressions: “What an ass…” Friendly Impressions: “What an ass…” Enemy Impressions: He’s definitely disliked by a great number of people but not really viewed as an immense threat, more like someone you need to keep away from unless you’re looking for trouble. Familiar Impressions: I believe his sister sees him as a lifeline of sorts, the one person left she can always turn to for support and understanding and who will always love her back despite anything she does. Compliments: Well played. Insults: Ass, jerk, he’s been called pretty much every foul name under the sun.  Self-Impression: Very deep down Cassius has a pretty low opinion of himself. After all the time he’s spent away from the influence of his family he figured he would have made some kind of progress with his life but he keeps making one step forward and one thousand back. He just doesn’t know how to adjust. 

FAVORITES

Favorite Colors: Navy Blue, Black, Red, Green.   Favorite Animals: Wolf, Tiger, Cat. Favorite Mythological Creatures: Cerberus.   Favorite Places: Sofia, Bulgaria. Favorite Landmarks: National Museum of Military History & Slaveykov Square, both in Sofia. Favorite Foods: Broccoli, Mushroom soup, Mekista, Garash cake. Favorite Drinks: Firewhiskey Coca Cola, Coffee. Favorite Characters: The Third Brother from The Tales of Beedle the Bard; Dorian Gray from The Portrait of Dorian Gray. Favorite Genre: Action, Mystery, Adventure. Favorite Books: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Favorite Sports: Quidditch, Soccer. Favorite Subjects: Charms, Care for Magical Creatures, Transfiguration. Favorite Numbers: 6, 13. Favorite Quotations: "I came, I saw, I conquered.”  - Julius Caesar

LEAST FAVORITES

Least Favorite Colors: Any shade of pink. Least Favorite Animals: Any kind of bug, Least Favorite Mythological Creatures: Pixie. Least Favorite Places: England. Least Favorite Landmarks: Earth and Man National Museum, Sofia, Bulgaria. Least Favorite Foods: Cauliflower.    Least Favorite Drinks: Mint tea. Least Favorite Genre: Romance, Drama. Least Favorite Books: Anything with too much romance and not enough action. Least Favorite Subjects: Divination. Least Favorite Numbers: 7. Least Favorite Words: Truth. (He can’t pronounce it right.)  

Character Sheet © Character-Resource