#oh the woes of motherhood

[strawbpusheen]

So I've been really into transformers lately and none of my other irl friends are and I'm constantly sharing transformers lore and I was explaining to this one friend drift and ratchets relationship and she cut me off in the middle of me telling her about deadlock to ask "how do they get pregnant" so then I had to tell her about how transformers are an asexual species but boy oh boy fans will find a way and she then proceeded to tell me that drift from hit series transformers looked submissive and breedable and I was like "yk what... hell yeah" so as I continued explaining the progression of dratchet relationship we stopped calling drift by name and literally started referring to him as pregnant so I could keep her engaged and now that's just what she calls him and I felt like I needed to share that with the transformers tumblr community

[aikasjournal]

Journal #9 - Dec 1, 2023

Omg it's December! Where have all the months gone? I have not written anything at all since what August?

August, September, October, November... Four months of going through the motions. There were incredibly rough times this year, especially with Jed and I. Our fights got uglier and uglier by the day. And we were bad fighters to begin with. Even to this day, we are still trying to improve ourselves, to be less reactive and more patient with each other. Ohhh the ugly fights.

I went to a legitimate therapist this year. An expensive therapist, hoping maybe some magic would happen and I would heal myself from sad bad sad bad days. There was just a lot on my plate and I felt mostly lonely and alone through it all.

My number one woe this year was the lack of friendship, female friendship in particular. To go through motherhood with not much to share it with or to talk to on immediately, on-hand, right by my side was probably the hardest thing (aside from Noa's babyhood). Even up to now I'm still mostly by myself. The only regular person I could talk to about motherhood (and know she's not too bored about it) is Mary Ann. Apart from that, people have moved on. It's like if you don't have an office or immediate family nearby, it's just you and your husband. No wonder it put a lot of strain in our marriage.

I always long to have my mama nearby. She's in the States, along with my two sisters. My sister has two young children of her own, Alaiya and Kayson, and I always dream about them being nearby. Oh what fun we'd have, Sundays and holidays spent in chaos with the kids. Alas they're not here and I don't really have any other close relatives I could count on. And as luck would have it, so is Jed's family. They're all in the states.

It seems like I lost the ability (a little bit) to be positive. I have turned into a very negative person this year, which sucked. I always focused on what's wrong and what could go wrong. It was a very unpretty mindset.

I think it started to get a little bit better when Noa began to sleep through the night and I finally had the chance to stretch my sleep to more than 3 hours. Gosh that's also one more thing that made me so miserable. The lack of sleep. Once I was able to afford some shuteye, I began working out again. Very very slowly. Just long walks. And then back to my yoga routine. Very slowly. Very deliberately.

These days, Noa is incredibly talkative, though we hardly understand what she says. But she does mimic us when we ask her to say some words, and best of all we have heard her say real words like daddy, mama, baby, bubbles, elmo, byebye, and well, pepe lol.

I'm still a tad overweight and scared to know what my cholesterol levels are. I have failed to read any book at all this year. I'm still exhausted at night time most days.

Still I'm very grateful to be here, to witness Noa's development, to love her, to be with her. I should do the same for Jed, as we are both tired and exhausted and needing extra compassion and love tbh.

We'll celebrate our anniversary soon on the 8th (also Sam's birthday).

As always I pray for good health for me and my loved ones. To be healthy, safe, alive, and living the best life we could.

Ohhh I forgot, we are in the process of moving to Jed's house in Novaliches next year. We're currently renovating the house courtesy of his parents. It's something to look forward to. :)

[orleans-jester]

cryptid-killjoy​:

“Yeah,  she’ll get there. That’s the best way to do anything.” 

Recipes on gravestones. 

“Hmm. Yeah. Maybe. I might have seen one of those. There was a joke under it about leaving out an ingredient and taking it their grave.” 

He makes the plans. She can do the arrangements. 

“I can do that.” It felt simpler that way. Teamwork was good. 

Then he’d gotten distracted by touch. 

Tangibility had that effect sometimes. His head could be who knows where and one touch could pull him back. The opposite could be true. One thought could pull him away from reality just as easily. One trigger. 

Ask and ye shall receive. 

His brain didn’t think like a girl, tatas that needed support. He saw her new gold one he really liked so he thought what he picked out similar would be okay too. It wasn’t any of the ones he recently gifted her she was wearing. It was something else random. So he got a little bummed hopeful to see one of them or maybe the gold one. That’s where his curiosity had been when he got all booby focused at first. Ah well, maybe next time. That’s okay. There’s always another day. 

But, that said, he was never disappointed in seeing his wife’s skin in anything that was removeable and this certainly was. So, that was going to happen quickly. So without much todo he slipped his arms around her to find the clasps and in a moment’s try he managed to release them and let it drop out of his way. Better. Pads and all. Even if one stuck an extra second before the fall.

Oh the woes of motherhood. All of it, every little detail of difference stuck out in Bastien’s mind even if he never voiced it. It was in his grin somewhere hidden when he’d look up how much he enjoyed the nuances of their new life together. How could he not want to kiss the beautiful bare breasted woman in his arms? So, he did. 

Maybe Maddy was right about what she said a long time ago, but Bastien didn’t agree at the time. Time’s change. Maybe his favorite was her in nothing because once he had her in nothing from the waist up there was little left of him, and he was thinking with a completely different head all together at this point. He held her at the small of her back and pulled her in close, his detail girl. 

“Can you pencil in some personal time for you and me for right now o’clock before we go on our trip?” 

Maddy tended to save the more special sets for special occasions. When she knew that she would be getting time with her husband. Motherhood did, admittedly, tend to get in the way a little bit. Starting to get intimate and then hearing the baby cry or fuss, needing attention, and having to go attend to it then the mood isn’t as fiery as before because they just changed a full diaper - yeah. And they didn’t really have the luxury of babysitters.

At least for now they could just put her in her crib when they needed a couple of minutes. God knows Frankie’s gonna be crawling out of it and prowling their dungeon home in no time.

There wasn’t any shame or embarrassment about the pads, not from either end. It was what it was. This was the body that had given Bastien the child that he didn’t think he would get to have in the past. And these were the breasts that kept that baby healthy and fed, supplying a stream of milk that sometimes didn’t like to listen and make a mess. That’s the part they don’t tell you about in Cheaper By The Dozen. That if Bonnie Hunt had breastfed those kids, she must have produced enough milk to fill an Olympic size swimming pool.

But Bastien was smiling and Maddy was too, feeling admired by his blue eyes, taking a minute just to feel that. Like her chest was used for something other than tender breastfeeding. Another thing to be thankful for - her breasts haven’t grown rock hard like she had read about in some of her research. Still soft, still supple, still sensitive.

And that kiss that he initiated  - she let her eyes fluttered closed and took it in, wrapping her arms around him because she really hoped that some thought wouldn’t just burst into his head and he’d pull away and leave her like this. Like maybe if she just sort of enveloped him, he’d stay in this space, with her, just for a while.

They’ve been married closer to two years now than one, and when he looked at her like that - it still drove her crazy, like it had the first time that they made love in their own bed and he had taken care of her, kissing each and every cut, bruise and burn that had been inflicted upon her body while still treating her like she was the most beautiful person in the world.

He was making her smile again. “I’ll pencil you in at anytime o’clock, Bastien, baby,” She said, nodding. But then, just to make it clear for that crowded mind of his. “We’ve got time, I’m all yours.”

Bastien came rushing in their dungeon at a run. He dropped his hammer without even putting it in it's proper put-away location.

"MADDY!! MADDY!! You have to listen to what I learned tonight. You just have to."

His cheeks were flushed from the sprint. His pale skin all splotchy from the exertion to hurry up to get to her.

[fragilehunter]

Tag dump

New Verse tags I’ve been meaning to add

And some relationship tags for @deathvoids @tentatiomundi @betteresurrection @thefallenapprentice @durativo and @unhallowedhybrid

[panlight]

Let's say that sparkling is directly tied to how much a vampire kills and/or acts on their vampire instincts. So Carlisle looks pretty much human all of the time while Jasper is blinding in even clouded sunlight. How would that change the dynamic of the Cullens? How would Edward, who would probably still glitter or glow most of the time, manage? What about Rosalie--would vampirism consider killing her own killers "monstrous" enough to make her sparkle? Let's make sparkling scary!

I think half the problem is the word "sparkling." It just doesn't inspire fear. Didn't help when Bree Tanner was talking about disco balls, either.

And then we have Edward being all emo and angsty about how monstrous it makes him and it's like idk dude in terms of monstrosity, sparkling in the sun is pretty low on the list of physical horrors. I think in Midnight Sun he describes it more as looking like he's on fire, which works better on so many levels. So in part it might just be SM-via-Bella describing this in the most beautiful, flattering light and reality is different.

On the other hand, it could just be Edward being Edward and it's actually as benign as "sparkling" and "prism" and "disco ball" imply.

Carlisle wouldn't have to miss work on sunny days (which I don't think he does anyway . . . he must have a systems in place to get to work unnoticed on sunny days) and his life as a vampire blending in with humans would be so much easier . . . except dealing with Edward, whose angst over his murder gap years would be even worse because not only did he have blood on his hands but he had, through his own hubris, condemned himself to being forced to stay out of the sun, oh woe, what a monster am I!

Jasper just like, does not go out during daylight at all and probably isn't all that bothered by it like. "Oh, no, I can't go to high school? How tragic. Have fun, guys!" and sits at home doing whatever it is he does to pass the time.

With Rosalie's it's hard to say how vampirism/the universe/whatever would weigh her kills. If it's just "killing humans, full stop" then I don't think it cares what her motives or reasons were. But if there's some nuance involved, she might only be docked for the two possibly innocent guards she killed, and everyone is just in awe of her 'glowing' complexion, like a soft glow lighting effect. She might be in a SLIGHTLY better place because she would be less barred from participating in society, but it doesn't address her frustrated longings for motherhood or feeling frozen.

Esme is probably a bit more shiny than Rosalie, followed by Alice, and then Emmett. But even Emmett has more freedom than Edward and certainly more than Jasper. Who, again, I don't think would care all that much. He's doing this human family thing a) for Alice and b) to not feel the emotions of people he kills. He does not care if he can't go to high school or do the pretend grocery shopping.

[madamhatter]

With a life of misfortune and no destiny to be found, it is Sophie’s perception that anything that derives from her desires is selfish - and by extension - harmful. If she is to bring woe because of her decisions, it spreads and overtakes because of a mistake that’ll turn fatal. 

The idea that she harms people in any way shakes up Sophie. Nothing in her is geared towards violence or mindless bludgeoning. If anything, she recoils at the thought and makes her go cold, thinking that her own decisions can affect and ruin someone else. Her own childhood and how her parents treated her were to always be at her best, never step out of line, and always keep to what she had to do. 

Stepping out of line can lead to dire consequences - disappointment, strife, pain, humiliation, and more - and even worse, it can reach others. Why would a no one like her put someone through that? Why would she be so lowly to be so cruel to someone for her own gain? Her selfishness is poisonous. 

She knows she shouldn’t, but she still wants a life.

And that starts with a little dream snubbed out quickly: having a family.

It isn’t about motherhood. It is about wanting to belong so that she can make it and provide for others that aren’t controlled by someone else. She loves settling and having peace because what she tastes of ‘peace’ is not true peace; it is scrapping by and resigning to being secondary in life and feeling listless and unfulfilled that she’s forced to take as rewarding.

Something in her enjoys the thought of drooling and rowdy children pulling at her skirt, loud giggling and soft cooing sleeping against her shoulder, looking at such a fresh face and imagining a world for them. It is about giving them something that she cannot have. Salvaging hope in the face of adversity because she is genuinely optimistic about the world. 

Having a child - adopting, fostering, birthing - was something she always wanted to do. Being with or without a partner was not crucial in having a family. But there was that foreboding dread of what she could bring to a child. So hopeful, so bright, so smart, so uncontrolled, so vulnerable, all these thoughts swarmed her at any chance she even contemplated a ‘what-if’ she could never have. 

( Not to mention the lingering fear of repeating what parents have done before, of becoming how they were, of continuing a vicious cycle. The last person she ever wanted to be like was her father. She refuses to lie and gaslight a child through everything being well, grooming them to be exposed and understanding of horrific conditions, exploiting a too loving and too kind heart.) 

Carrying a child to full-term is already complicated. She has fertility issues, and her family already has a history of birth complications. Her own birth mother passed away after giving birth to Lettie some months after. Sophie isn’t that far off; given how she treats herself, she overstresses herself and may lose a potential child in the early weeks. It is challenging and not something she learns right away and learns with time. 

She finds herself too much of a risk to have that dream. She finds that there are more consequences to breaking from the made path. She is afraid of perpetuating all these terrors that, at her age, she has to come to understand and process. It is a disorienting and piercing wake-up call of trauma that unravels and breaks the foundation she was raised on. 

Oh, she simply wants to live. 

But she is afraid to live. 

[elrikjyestellion]

Eromia: Introduction to my Fanfic Blog

This is my creative fanfiction Blog, where I am to post stories with my original characters, themes, and plots. Currently I'm running two projects on this page. The Lantern in the Stars is set in the world of the His Dark Materials, and Eromia in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. I hope to add my own unique taste to these worlds that inspire me so greatly, and expand upon what I find most compelling about their settings. I enjoy that His Dark Materials incorporates the theme of religion and it's related topics in how we feel about god, sin, the afterlife and our own freedom. The Lantern in the Stars is meant to expand on the world, lore, and deeply explore it's themes as well as building upon previously established worldbuilding topics (ie deaths, daemons, spectors, and the afterlives).

As far as Harry Potter I enjoy the aspect of mystery that is displayed in the series, and plan on expanding that with my own added twists, juggling many characters through flashbacks and flash forwards. The band are off to Mystif College- the first ever magical higher education founded by some of Hogwarts finest alumni.

The Lantern in the Stars

It was woe to him. 

That it couldn’t be. Wouldn’t be. It twisted, turning vast, and vast faster, spinning, it was vastness he could see. Yet hardly, hardly in this darkness anything could be. Not even that love but the stars oh the stars were twinkling in defiance, brightly, a force against the pounding, suffocating void that surrounded all that was, would be. And in the same way his heart pounded against his chest beating showing that there was a mighty way through all this despair. 

He felt their love, and nothing had because everything couldn’t. And he, he cries out into it, with all his being. He wars for it. In defiance he cries, Adam and Eve.

“Are you sure this was even the write thing to do?”

The Thestrals close in around them swiftly kneeling their heads in their dark eyes penetrating the man, unpredchurbed by what he can not see- thats’ what’s irriritating her.

She settles her hand on their snouts, cool and calmly as to not alert her partner of their attitudes. “Absolutely yes,” she flipped her hair slightly her pale skin ivory with age, and motherhood. 

He steps closer, “The older they get and,” She turns and grabs his tie, the Thestrals turning and facing him following suit, shuffling together now revealed in their mass. “Isn’t this what we’ve always done?” she whispered, close to him, her bright blue eyes always pools of light, now more shimmering, desperately. 

“Sort of- ing,” he said, ultimately catching. He almost stumbled on her, and his words, then meeting to re balance. 

She thought, Being in awe of what we created. 

She was catching him, and their lips met like butterflies from a net, one of lies.

Between their lips and on their tongues they felt them, oh, and in such necessities and demand. 

“What’s it going to be like for Hogwarts?”

She’d let go, concerningly, sensing that from him. 

She sighed a deep sigh like she’d been over a million times “Lovegood,” she gushed, his green tie remembering of the times they’d felt caught so far apart in that place.

“We said that if you can’t change a place,” (aggressively).

“Progress it,” Tonyor was saying, summoning more conviction from it than he'd had ever, it seemed to take upon itself a new meaning in that moment, it would for the rest of his life.

Then they turned and flew away their dry wings flapping like a murder far into the setting sky they dotted into, flooring the horizon chasing the suns set. Luna turned with them, and then he held her, them over the branches of the trees. 

“What do u see?” He muttered from behind her his arms crossing her hips.

She reached up and put his hand on his cheek. 

“How am i to spell such a thing.”

So many words he thought, he sighed.

[limerental]

Okay but imagine this....Jas cradling a baby they rescued and making the baby giggle and there's Yen going "I'm gonna wife you so hard".

Yen, for all her “woe is me I can’t be a mom” talk, has no goddang clue how to care for an infant and yet Jaskier is immediately cooing and quieting the wee babe and she is unreasonably flustered by this, struck a little bit dumb by how soft he is with the little thing and how gently he cares for it.

And her first emotion is outrage at being usurped in motherhood skills by this man who is a literal child himself and her second thought is “oh fuck I want someone to be that gentle with me… oh fuck I want HIM to be that gentle with me”

And then she wifes him very hard.

[lovejustforaday]

My Top 10 Albums of 2019

Rose Gold - Kitty

Main Genres: Electro Pop

A decent sampling of: Chill Hop, Chill Wave, Alternative R&B, Cloud Rap, Future Bass, Synth Pop, Trip Hop, Wonky Kitty's sound keeps changing from EP to LP, but one thing that remains constant is her witty, hyper-feminine cool girl persona. On "Rose Gold", she explores a variety of electronic genres while maintaining a near-perfect chill mood and atmosphere. "Rose Gold" easily avoids falling into the traps of repetitiveness prone to a lot of lo-fi chill music thanks to Kitty's charming personality and clever lyricism on tracks like "B.O.M.B. (Peter)" and "Florida". I feel like this is definitely a late night album, one you might listen to while sneaking around your kitchen to make a late night snack while wearing your cutest pajamas. Alternatively, this is the album your stuffed animals all get up and vibe to while you're sleeping. Oh yeah, and "Counting All The Starfish" samples FF7 which is pretty cool. Highlights: "B.O.M.B. (Peter)", “Don’t Panic (Interlude)”, "Mami", "Counting All The Starfish", “Disconnect”

8/10

House of Sugar - Sandy (Alex G)

Main Genres: Indie Folk, Neo-Psychedelia

A decent sampling of: Folktronica, Psychedelic Folk, Indie Pop, Americana I admit, I was completely unfamiliar with Alex G's material until this album came along and garnered a lot of attention. I'm very excited to explore his back catalogue now thanks to this album. Fitting to its name, "House of Sugar" is somewhat like a psychedelic sugar rush, feeling at once strange and whimsical yet also sickly sweet and delirious. Under the album's upbeat folky veneer lies darker themes about loss both personal and conceptual. "Gretel" and the album title itself are both inspired by the fairytale of Hansel and Gretel, which makes a lot of sense because I really just want to get lost in the woods while listening to this album. "Project 2" is a noticeable outlier and the weakest track, forgoing conventional song structure completely for experimental synth music yielding mixed results, but even this short track manages to be oddly beautiful and adds to the overall experience. Likewise, "House of Sugar" is an exceptionally interesting musical journey even at its weakest. Highlights: "Gretel", "Sugar", "Hope", "Walk Away", "Taking"

8/10

Titanic Rising - Weyes Blood

Main Genres: Art Pop, Baroque Pop

A decent sampling of: Progressive Pop, Psychedelic Pop, Soft Rock, Progressive Electronic, Alternative Country Most acclaimed album of 2019? Quite possibly. While it's not my top choice of the year, I can definitely understand the widespread praise this album has received. At its best, Weyes Blood's "Titanic Rising" is a truly lush and cinematic experience, incorporating musical influences from the best of 60s and 70s era pop music with a moving lyrical narrative of coming to terms with depression and getting older. Mering's voice is warm and tender, and her insights about generational woes on tracks like "Everyday" and "Something to Believe" are mature and nuanced. If you're new to being an adult like I am, and you find the prospects of trying to build a fulfilling and meaningful life in the kind of world we live in scary, then listening to "Titanic Rising" will feel like a very bittersweet soundtrack written for a movie based on your own real life. Considerably front-loaded, but the concept for this album is very fresh and ambitious, and when it's good, it's brilliant. P.S. definitely the best album cover of 2019 Highlights: "Everyday", "Movies", "Andromeda", "Titanic Rising", "A Lot's Gonna Change"

8/10

Grey Area - Little Simz

Main Genres: Conscious Rap, UK Rap

A decent sampling of: Jazz Rap, Hardcore Rap

Little Simz sounds like she knows exactly who she is and what she's doing on "Grey Area", like she has her flow and writing lyrics down to a science. The album really feels like seeing the world through her eyes, and Simz holds nothing back, talking about everything from institutional racism and violence, to things like therapy, motherhood, and even video games. "Grey Area" succeeds as well as it does largely thanks to the strengths of Simz's offbeat personality, lyrical insights, and excellent delivery, while the production on the album is mostly smooth and slick in a way that never overpowers her as the main focus. I'll admit, I find at some points that the production on some of the songs falls considerably short of the standards set by Simz's own talent as a rapper, but when the production does reach that level on tracks like "101 FM" and "Venom", the pay off is brilliant. "101 FM" in particular is such an interesting and unique hip hop song, in the same way that Simz is a very interesting and unique rapper. Honestly this album is worth the listen alone just to hear what Little Simz has to say about everything.

Highlights: "101 FM", "Selfish", "Offence", "Venom"

8/10

Pang - Caroline Polachek

Main Genres: Art Pop, Alternative R&B

A decent sampling of: Electro Pop, Glitch Pop, Ambient Pop, New Age, Downtempo Of all the albums I've listened to this year, "Pang" feels like the most varied journey with an impressive collection of 14 songs in under 50 minutes. On this LP, Caroline Polachek takes the listener through her world of romantic fairytales and magic. Some of the songs are poppy bangers like the funky "So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings" and the rhythmic "Ocean of Tears", while other songs are more mood-driven and meditative like "Parachute" and "Insomnia". Many of the songs place emphasis on the vocal gymnastics of Polachek herself, who makes great use of her range and techniques like heavy breaths on "So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings". The production work of Polachek and Danny L. Harle is sophisticated and intricate, with a lot of attention to detail on tracks like "Door" and "Pang". A lot of the songs are  mysterious and cerebral, especially the penultimate "Door" which has an equally cerebral and trippy music video. Overall, I'd say that "Pang" definitely opens and closes with its strongest few tracks, but there’s enough variety and intricacies throughout its entirety to make the album experience highly engaging on repeated listens as you explore the different musical worlds that each song has to offer.

Highlights: "Door", " So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings ", “Parachute”, "Pang", "Go As a Dream", "Ocean of Tears", “Hit Me Where It Hurts”, "The Gate"

9/10

Norman Fucking Rockwell! - Lana Del Rey

Main Genres: Art Pop, Soft Rock

A decent sampling of: Dream Pop, Chamber Pop, Contemporary Folk, Psychedelic Pop, Piano Rock, Blues Rock, Americana, Pop Soul So yeah, this album happened. Lana Del Rey has always been an artist I appreciated for her unique sound and persona, but I found that her 2012 LP "Born To Die" mostly didn't quite live up to her potential as an artist, and I never really bothered with the rest of her work apart from individual songs until now. I'm so glad I checked this one out because "Norman Fucking Rockwell!" rightfully deserves the wave of acclaim it has received this year. Lana Del Rey's songwriting has become so sophisticated on this LP, and the warm, rich soft rock sound that she's adopted on tracks like "The greatest" compliments her vocals better than any other genre she's explored so far. Like most of her work, "Norman Fucking Rockwell!" explores American identity and femininity, and the songs are tinged with sadness and nostalgia. That being said, I actually find parts of this album very uplifting, especially on "Love Song" and "Mariners Apartment Complex". "Venice Bitch" is, simply put, a true masterpiece. It's the reason I checked out the album when I heard the single last year, and it damn near blows everything else out of the water with its gorgeous soundscapes and 9 minute length that could go on for an eternity if it wanted to. Regardless, there's a lot of songs here that I love, even if the LP is a little front-loaded. Lana has outdone herself this time with "Norman Fucking Rockwell!", and I already look forward to the projects she's announced for 2020. In the meantime, I should check out the LPs that I missed in her discography. Highlights: "Venice Bitch", "The greatest", "Mariners Apartment Complex", "How to disappear", "Cinnamon Girl", "Love song", "Norman fucking Rockwell"

9/10

Keepsake - Hatchie

Main Genres: Dream Pop, Indie Pop

A decent sampling of: Shoegaze, Synth Pop, Twee Pop, Jangle Pop

This album pretty clearly derives a lot of its sound from a particular era of early 90s dream pop, shoegaze, and jangle pop. So what makes "Keepsake" so special? For one, Hatchie knows her sound niche and does it incredibly well. Songs like "Stay With Me" and "Kiss The Stars" feel like lost gems from an era when they could've been heard on college radios in between the Cocteau Twins, MBV, and the Cranberries. While her sonic timbre is pure retro, Hatchie's own take on classic dream pop from a songwriting perspective is fresh and unique. Her lyrics and melodies are pure and saccharine in a way that reminds me of feel-good teen romcoms about sappy high school romances, only I mean that in the best way possible. Songs like "Without A Blush" and "Secret" feel like what I thought falling in love was gonna be like when I was 11 years old. "Stay With Me" is a rush of euphoria, and the song feels like prom again whenever I listen to it. Her pop songwriting sensibilities are well-crafted in a way that makes it look like she's been doing this for years and years, when really Hatchie only started putting out her own music in 2017. The sequencing of the tracks is well thought out, and I find "Keepsake" is at its strongest in the middle portion. There's just a certain essence of carefree youth and sentimentality that Hatchie has captured so vividly with this album. If you're looking to recapture the feeling of your best memories as a teenager, "Keepsake" will take you there. Strongest debut LP of the year, and I super look forward to whatever she does next. Highlights: "Stay With Me", "Secret", "Her Own Heart" "Kiss The Stars", "Without A Blush", "Unwanted Guest"

9/10

Djinn - Lingua Nada

Main Genres: Indie Rock, Psychedelic Rock, Noise Rock

A decent sampling of: Noise Pop, Progressive Rock, Math Rock, Neo-Psychedelia, Indietronica, Experimental Rock

Lingua Nada is that one really cool indie band that only I and a few others seem to know about. The band has a very distinct and creative sound which combines explosive noise with jerky, whacky rhythms and upbeat melodies. Last year's "Snuff" was a very raw and experimental album experience, and another year-end favourite of mine. This year's "Djinn" boasts slightly more conventional song structures, but the sonic timbres and rhythms are just as strange and beautiful, if not more. As its name would suggest, "Djinn" is partly inspired by Arabian folklore and evokes a sort of mysterious, ghostly presence on songs like the title track and "Salam Cyber". The mix of noise, acid-y psychedelics, and complex rhythms on "Habiba" and "Dweeb Weed" results in alien, otherworldly sounds. "These Hands Are Royal" is a very evocative track as well, with its propulsive beat and dusty guitar riffs giving me the distinct imagery of travelling a desert by foot. Lingua Nada never overwhelms the listener with their explosive songs on "Djinn", and the band takes time to mellow out a bit towards the end of the album with the bubbly, psychedelic indietronica bop "Yalla Yalla" and the minimalist folk tune "In Limbo". Lead vocalist Adam Lenox is buried pretty deep in the mix of guitars, and I wouldn't exactly say he has the strongest presence as a vocalist, but I can't say that this takes away much of the appeal because "Djinn" is clearly meant to be a more impressionistic experience. Lingua Nada have come out of the past two years with a strong 1-2 punch of innovative noise rock albums, and with "Djinn" they've proven themselves to be one of the most daring and multi-talented rock bands of the decade.

Highlights: "Habiba", "These Hands Are Royal", "Djinn", "Salam Cyber", "Yalla Yalla", "Proto", "Gucci Mecca"

9/10

Ginger - Brockhampton

Main Genres: Pop Rap, Contemporary R&B, West Coast Rap

A decent sampling of: Alternative R&B, Emo Rap, Conscious Rap, Indie Pop

This album feels like it's all about growth. Brockhampton have undergone a lot of changes as a band since they first blew up in 2017 between sudden fame, signing a major label, and kicking Ameer for his toxic behaviour. Last year's "Iridescence" felt like a raw, anguished, and messy response to the sudden changes the band had to cope with. Now it's 2019 and we have "Ginger", a more lowkey and sometimes deeply sad album, where members of Brockhampton are still processing many of the same problems. This time, however, the album is far more consistent, more nuanced, and overall, masterfully crafted. There's a lot of talk of male identity and what it means to be a man on "Ginger", and some of the traits brought up are moral integrity, honesty, and vulnerability, all which are part of emotional maturity and subvert machismo gender expectations. True to its album cover, "Ginger" is like a big hug for young guys struggling with depression, but anybody can get something out of this brilliant piece of art. The highlights are many: Joba's verse on "BIG BOY", Kevin's verse on "BOY BYE", and Matt's verse on "NO HALO" just to name a few. But the defining moment of "Ginger" is Dom's takedown of Ameer at the end of "DEARLY DEPARTED", a brilliant 66 seconds of anger, remorse, pain, and condemnation.  Guest rapper Victor Roberts rapping about his traumatic childhood experience with the police on album closer "VICTOR ROBERTS" is also a key highlight, and serves as a fitting note to end an album that so forwardly tackles depression and coping with traumatic life changes. The production is fantastic, from the effortlessly cool R&B jam "SUGAR" to weirder tracks like the off-kilter "IF YOU PRAY RIGHT" which is built around a cartoonish trombone riff. I simply can't praise this album enough. Brockhampton have matured as artists, and "Ginger" will go on to prove their legacy as one of the best rap groups of the 2010s. Highlights: "DEARLY DEPARTED", "NO HALO", "SUGAR", "GINGER", "BOY BYE", "VICTOR ROBERTS", "IF YOU PRAY RIGHT", "BIG BOY", “ST. PERCY”

10/10

Magdalene - FKA Twigs

Main Genres: Art Pop, Glitch Pop

A decent sampling of: Progressive Pop, Ambient Pop, Alternative R&B, Post-Industrial

It's hard to describe what makes this album so brilliant because it's so subtle. "MAGDALENE" slowly unravels to reveal its beauty, in the same way that a flower slowly blooms, petal by petal. Likewise, FKA Twigs slowly strips away all of her defenses, track by track, to reveal the heart of a wounded lover. "MAGDALENE" is all about the breakup of Twigs' highly publicized relationship with Robert Pattinson. The lyrics explore her lover's emotional distance on "home with you", her feelings of inadequacy after being thrust into the broader public eye on "cellophane", her lover's lies on "fallen alien", and the physical pain she endured undergoing fibroid surgery that rendered her feeling weak on "daybed". Like the rest of her work, many of the songs on "MAGDALENE" juxtapose the unnerving with the beautiful, with tracks like "mirrored heart" and "fallen alien" alternating between ethereal vocals backed by piano and glitchy, spine-tingling production that evokes earthquakes and mirrors shattering into hundreds of pieces. There's also a lot of empty space on this album, and a general appreciation for minimalism. Tracks like "mary magdalene" and "cellophane" are made stronger by allowing enough room for Twigs' vocals to carry the music, and boy does she ever. Twigs breathes, moans, cries, screams, whispers, and commands with her voice to utter perfection throughout. The vocal highlights are all over "MAGDALENE", but my absolute favourites include the last line of "home with you", the dark incantations of the verses on "fallen alien", and the withering refrain after the beat-drop on "cellophane". "cellophane" is the centerpiece of "MAGDALENE" and the perfect closer, like listening to the music of a dying flower as it slowly wilts away. Overall, "MAGDALENE" is a stunning piece of art. Twigs has reclaimed her pain on this album by turning one of the lowest points in her life into the most beautiful album of the year. Highlights: "cellophane", "home with you", "fallen alien", "mary magdalene", "daybed", "sad day", "mirrored heart", "thousand eyes"

10/10

[spiderparkerpeterman]

so basically i’m baby

hmm. my last fic wasn't very popular, oops. back to fluff and feel-good content! enjoy!

content: fluff, reader being done with peter's shit, shenanigans involving those of the fur and baby kinds

warnings: reader is a meme because i have chaotic energy, lapslock, minor existential stuff

word count: 2139 (fuck oops)

--

you were lying on your stomach on peter's bed, watching him putter around his dorm room, putting together a presentation for his photography elective. you didn't have a due date for another week, so you had taken the chance to lounge around and laugh at peter for his assignment woes. you were scrolling through instagram when an ad for some baby clothes company came up.

"urgh," you groaned, "i look up baby carriers one time and now instagram thinks i'm pregnant."

peter looked at you from the floor where several undeveloped rolls of pictures surrounded him. "why'd you look up baby carriers?"

"i thought it'd be funny to put my spider-plushie in there and carry it around campus. like 'here's my baby, oh wait it's spider-man!'" you replied with a grin.

"i should have never allowed spider-plushie to be made. you're a menace to society, y/n," peter replied. "anyways, what's so bad about instagram giving you all those ads? never too early to start looking for good baby stuff."

you raised an eyebrow. "i'm not going to hoard baby supplies for a baby that i'll never have, peter. that's weird."

"what do you mean, 'for a baby you'll never have?'" peter asked, to which you groaned again.

"peter. my darling. love- no, wait- larb of my life. i thought you knew? must not have told you. i don't really want kids," you said, shuffling to the edge of the bed so you could hang off of it, putting your hands on the floor to keep yourself horizontal. you were really close to peter's face.

peter's now sad, pouting face.

"you don't want kids?" he asked, feeling his future almost melt away. he'd always imagined having a few kids, watching them grow up and go off to school and then college and growing old with you in your cosy little suburban house with a nice backyard and secret basement for all his spider-man needs. peter loved kids. he often went to orphanages and hospitals to play with and give hope to the kids of new york.

"sorry," you said honestly. "i've just never seen myself with kids."

"you'd make a great mom though," peter whined. you blushed a little- it was a nice compliment, sure, but motherhood wasn't really your style.

"thanks, but... i dunno. it's just not for me."

"not even hearing tiny human feet running to you after a hard day of work and having the tiny little body belonging to said tiny little feet run into you, babbling about how they missed you?" peter asked, his puppy-eyes in full effect now.

but you weren't going to fall victim to his tricks. "no," you replied, a soft smile on your face. "that's your dream, not mine, babe. 'no kids' is the first clause of my mental relationship contract."

"but why not?"

"like i said. not my thing."

--

three days passed, and you had started on your assignment. it was now peter's turn to hang around your dorm and laugh at your assignment woes. you were at your desk, typing away; peter was sitting against your bed on the floor, messing around with his camera.

he cleared his throat. you decided to ignore him, thinking it was just something he needed to do. but then he did it again. you spun your chair to face him.

"yes, peter?" you asked with an air of exasperation.

"i was just thinking. about what you said the other day," he replied, innocent smile on his face- but you knew better. you knew what he was talking about- that damn kids conversation, but you decided to mess with him a little.

"what did i say the other day? was it the thing about deep-dish pizza? because i'm still absolutely serious about that, you know. or was it about naming my spider plant peter- is that a little too on the nose? because the name has stuck, i'm not changing it," you said, giving a leaf of peter the spider plant on your desk a soft stroke.

"ha ha," peter deadpanned. "first of all, i'm still deeply, truly offended about the deep-dish pizza, this is new york, we are not heathens. secondly, naming a plant after me is a little weird. thirdly, it's about the kids thing."

you raised your eyebrows and formed your mouth into a little 'o' in mock surprise. "that little old thing?" you asked, heavily faking nonchalance. "i do not remember it. i cannot read suddenly, i do not know."

"it was a verbal conversation, babe," peter laughed. "it's just- you don't wanna feel that fear and apprehension but also relief of sending your kid off to their first day of school? being so proud of them for making it this far, knowing that it was all you?"

you shrugged. "again, not really for me. i don't like feeling, peter, you know that."

"you literally sobbed over that talking dog movie the other day," peter pointed out, and you flapped a hand at him vaguely.

"i was on my period, hormones do that to you," you huffed. peter just looked at you with his eyebrows raised. you stared at him, before- "okay, fine, he was abandoned, that shit's sad! and right at the end of the movie? who does that! so i feel very strongly about dogs being abandoned. but other than that, i don't like feeling, having emotions is so last year."

peter laughed, so you turned back around and continued your essay.

--

it was another week before peter brought up the kid thing again. you had refused to even so much as think about children the whole time, because how dare peter try to out-debate you.

that was until you were having your fortnightly date night, involving a nice dinner, and a walk around central park, or watching a movie at the cinema, or just ordering pizza and making a blanket fort to watch disney movies in. on this particular night, you had gone to mcdonalds and ordered exclusively off their breakfast menu then left to have a faux-picnic at the local play park. it was almost seven in the evening, so all the kids had cleared off to go have dinner because it had gotten dark, so you two were sitting on a wooden bridge between the slide and mini rock-climbing wall.

peter was staring off to the side of the park, where a small group of teenagers were playing basketball on the one-hoop court. you stared at him.

"whatcha thinking about?" you asked, taking a bite of your mcmuffin.

"what if we have a kid and they grow up and want to go play basketball with their mates at seven in the evening and you're, like, worried they'll get mugged or make bad choices but also happy that they've got friends and do sports and trust you enough to ask?" peter blurted out. you stared at him, mid-chew.

you swallowed thickly. "if you wanna go play basketball with the kids so bad, go. i'll keep your food safe for you. by eating it."

"no, i'm serious!" peter looked at you. "like, that's a milestone! but what if the kid gets mugged or kidnapped or something and we have to pay a ransom or call the police about it?"

"you're spider-man, peter," you pointed out, now taking a sip of your milkshake. "you'd probably go and watch over the kid then rush home when they leave and try to be nonchalant about the fact that you were just watching them, and they'd see through you because you're a horrible liar or something."

"does this mean you want a-"

"no."

peter flashed his puppy-eyes at you, but you were too busy seeing if mcmuffins, hash browns and milkshakes tasted good when eaten at the same time to care.

--

"ok, y/n," peter announced as soon as he opened his dorm door for you, "i thought about why you don't want kids. most mothers are terrified of childbirth. so, and hear me out, we adopt."

you put your bag down on his floor and flopped on his bed. "nah."

"seriously?"

there was something in peter's tone that made you sit up and look at him, fully prepared to be sincere and honest. "pete, look. it's not childbirth that scares me- i mean, yeah, that much pain is terrifying and i never ever want to go through it, but... i just don't like kids. never have."

"why? how can you not like children, they're adorable."

you raised an eyebrow. "they're messy. snotty. gross- dirty in general. they can't wipe their own noses until they're like, three. that's disgusting, i'm not cleaning other humans' snot off their faces. you get no sleep, no breaks, and you know i'm not a people person- i can't really handle being around people 24/7. even you, pete, i'm sorry," you explained, and peter pursed his lips.

"you like your cousins," he said.

"i kind of have to like my cousins, pete. but i don't have to see them every hour of every day. i barely even see them once a month. i need breaks, and rest, and to be alone sometimes. and to be appreciated. and validated. i'm basically baby and need validation, like, all the time. kids don't do that." you stood up and walked to peter, holding his hands. "i know how much kids mean to you, and maybe i'll change my mind in the future, but right now, i'm scared."

"of what?" peter whispered.

"of growing up. of being responsible for another human life. of having to be an adult and having all these responsibilities. i love you and i trust you, but i don't like to think of the future too much. i live in the present, pete. live mas, forever is composed of nows, everything else is uncertain, carpe diem, the world is burning, hotel trivago, i don't know," you sighed, "just trust me on this, okay?"

peter nodded, giving you a quick kiss. "i love you so much, i'm sorry for bugging you."

"it's okay, love," you giggled, "it was getting kind of funny, actually. you did research on why people don't have kids. that's hilarious."

peter laughed, dipping his head down. you poked at his curls. "i guess i got a little carried away."

"live the extra life, peter. never let anyone tell you that there's such thing as getting carried away."

--

you were sitting in a class, barely awake, your laptop in front of you showing an empty word document. your silenced phone lit up, showing your lock screen of peter running into tape in the doorway of his room at aunt may's apartment. you unlocked it to see peter's newest text message.

peter: i did a thing

y/n: oh god what did you do

peter: i found a baby

y/n: i'm sorry? a whole ass baby?

y/n: you found an entire baby? lying around????

y/n: peter we talked about this you know i'm frightened of responsibility, that's your thing

peter left you on read, so you stared, mildly outraged, at your phone, totally ignoring your professor. ten minutes later, peter replied.

peter: sorry the baby peed on my backpack i had to put it in the wash

y/n: i'm SORRY??

peter: i know we can't have babies in the dorm but he was just so cute i couldn't help myself

y/n: peter did you just kidnap a random trash baby what is happening do i need to leave class

peter: nononono i've got it, he's a little rambunctious

y/n: big words for a dumbass

peter: i couldn't say no to those eyes, y/n

a picture popped up on your screen. of a puppy. a little spaniel puppy was looking into the camera with the biggest, brightest brown eyes you had ever seen on any living being. peter's camera was so close to the puppy's face that his snout was elongated, making him look even cuter.

y/n: !!!

y/n: those eyes!

peter: those eyes!!!

peter: !!!!!!!!!!

peter: can we keep him?

y/n: i think you need to take him to the vet first

peter: i found him by a dumpster while doing patrol, i don't think anyone owns him

y/n: wait ten minutes so i can get out of class and then we are taking him to the vet, peter benjamin 'dognapper' parker, this isn't about if someone owns him it's about if this dog has worms and you just infested your entire dorm with illegal trash puppy worm germs

peter: can we name him spider-pup i think he needs to be my sidekick

y/n: PETER YOU MAY HAVE JUST INTRODUCED FLEAS TO YOUR DORM BUILDING YOU ARE SO LUCKY I LOVE YOU

peter, of course, left you on read. god damn that boy.

[linelpisffxiv]

Happier Ending

Hydaelyn promises her so much as the Exarch -- Raha -- shatters in her arms. The ability to find peace, to no longer love so strong.

It is your greatest strength, but also your greatest curse. Woe betide those who stand with the Weapon of Light.

“For death shall be their reward. Death for them and their kin and all they shall hold dear.”

She hasn’t heard Hydaelyn’s voice since that stunt Elidibus held in the Exedra, and she’s not certain it was more than an illusion. Before that? She can’t even remember. She was silent through her journeys in Ala Mhigo and Doma. Through her time in Coerthas and Dravania. The last time she knew Hydaelyn spoke to any was Midgardsormr.

How odd she chose to speak to her again now.

Might we have a pact, my champion? No more pain, for your--

“No!”

Lin stands up. “We do not have a pact. You haven’t spoken to me in years. Why now?”

Why after she knows the truth. Hydaelyn must sense she’s aware the crystal is little more than a primal.

This pain will consume you. I can tell. I shall ask again in three suns.

There was something G’raha wanted her to do. She has the eye. Neither of them found out how it was transferred by chance, but her right eye and the sanguine crystal should be enough.

She only has three days. Three days until Hydaelyn returns. And she doubts she’d listen unless she can prove everything.

She steps through the portal, sensing it would be the last time. She can follow her aether, but the portal is an easier, shorter, less painful trip. She can sense Haurchefant following her, but it feels like there’s another. She won’t turn. She’s been an avid reader of stories since she woke up in this body that wasn’t hers, became someone more than either of them.

As a bard she learned more. She has a chance this time, defy the reincarnation, bring someone back from the dead. She hopes that’s the case.

One tale Jehantel told her was of a bard who had tried this before, but Thal had a rule, the bard could not look back on their journey. They failed, whether due to silent steps, or thinking they passed when their love had yet to pass the threshold.

This is not her hubris, not yet.

She’s close to the gates. Perhaps she has all she needs on her, but perhaps not.

Lin wastes a day teleporting to Ala Mhigo and asking for the assistance of the Ironworks.

The Sons of Saint Coinach are are their excavation site still. She looks over Rammbroes’s records, trying to see if she missed something.

The records on G’raha’s last words before he sealed the tower spark something in her mind, in the hand. She runs through the outer gates, across the Eight Sentinels, up to the door. It takes her five tries and four bells until her eye and the crystal resonate with the tower.

Another two until she finds G’raha. Just as handsome before as he was after three hundred years of pain. If she hadn’t been in a relationship, perhaps she would have noticed this before, remembered his voice longer.

Waking him and the tower takes half the time remaining. Wedge gets her coffee, the tech he tried to make doing little even with the crystal. Early on she tries a classic kiss, waking a sleeping beau as in stories, only for that to fail

She isn’t even certain what did work in the end. But he wakes, and the crystal in her hand changes from Sanguine to the color of the oceans around Vylbrand.

“Lin,” G’raha says, still asleep. “There is a thing I ask--”

She did it, she gave the crystal to him, but is this worth it. Did she destroy the G’raha she knew before? Was it--

His eyes open. “This isn’t right, I have to do one more thing.”

G’raha stands up and runs.Her head aches.

Not yet. She won’t give in yet. The others try and help her, but she manages to get to a wall to keep her standing. No one can know this fight.

Only to feel the tower around her. She doesn’t quite know what it is, but she can sense everyone around. Why now? What did she succeed in doing? But the tower in her mind is clouded, only places she’s been. G’raha passed that threshold before she found this.

Still, there’s one way to be able to sense him. Learn the Tower.

Lin walks along the steps, hand pressed tight against the tower, sensing the walls around her. Her head hurts too much to open her eyes. This isn’t Hydaelyn, the Crystal keeps her promise. This is the tower. Is this how those born with the Eye felt? Allagan royalty? This constant pain with all the information the tower had.

She keeps heading down, beyond the entry. The basement that was more than the Labyrinth, the Syrcus Twinning back in Norvrandt.

She feels like her head is splitting, she doesn’t know if the lifts exists, but she takes the risk as she walks along a corridor and takes one step off the edge.

A controlled fall. A long fall. The aether keeps her descent steady, though now it no longer feels familiar.

But she can almost sense G’raha, his soul. It’s so strong, She tries to find the way.

Hear.

No. She refuses. She will be deaf. G’raha has something to do, and she will at least make sure she can see it through. She forces her eyes open and bursts into a sprint. She bites her way through the pain, trying to not fall and break these relics. They’re precious to him. She can’t rely on them staying for another three hundred years.

She comes to a wall, but the tower senses she has insist otherwise, but it is tight. He’s overwriting her. But she needs to know. Needs to

Feel.

Not feel. See. Know. She puts her hand on the wall and it dissipates this time. She steps through before it closes immediately.

“I need him out of my mind, please, please work with my blood.”

G’raha’s voice is quiet. Younger than the Exarch’s, but still similar. The ages haven’t worn on him.

“No, I like him, but he is not what I want to be. But he’s needed just as much.”

She walks up to G’raha, the room is mostly dark, with the only lights being the sickly crystal glow she knows too well.

“What is this place?”

He turns to her in surprise. “Lin, how could you-- Oh yes, he gave you his blood in two ways. How you kept it, I don’t know.”

“He gave it to me willingly. Unknowingly, but it was through a statement of willingness.”

G’raha clutches his right eye. “I know that. I know too much about you. Nothing you gave to me. These are his memories. His skill.”

She starts to walk to him.

“Stop!”

She does.

“He’s not ready. I may be the carer for this tower, but the Tower hasn’t had time to know me.”

She doesn’t understand at first.

“The Exarch. He won’t do more than give me his memories. What I needed to know. But I think I can give them away. You remember Doga and Unei, correct?”

She nods, Lin doesn’t trust her voice, but certainly G’raha can’t see her. “Y-yes?” Rough. Too rough.

“This is where they were made. The Exarch learned how to make clones, but refused to do so in life.”

So she isn’t past the threshold yet. “I’ll leave you both to this now.” Keep this room safe.”

She puts her hand on the wall and steps out, almost blinded by the light beyond.

She can only hope finding the room didn’t deny her the chance.

Think.

No. She won’t. She clutches her Heart-shaped stone and keeps herself standing with her sword. She won’t think. Won’t look back.

Three days couldn’t have passed, have it?

You cannot believe the youth can do this. Twas not possible to split the consciousness into a clone. Only copy.

“I believe in him. Raha’s had time to learn beyond the Allagan knowledge. And his youth has that same determination.”

She’s the Warrior of Darkness now, not the Warrior of Light. She will never wear that title again.

Lin can feel Hydaelyn pick at her mind, but she fights back. Fears she’s had, the moments of weakness. Haurchefant dead, Raha shot. Raha breaking.

Every time her darkest parts took hold.

She trimphed each time. If this doesn’t work, she can live. She took the chance.

You do remember that clones--

“Cannot have children. So?”

She’s wondered about motherhood, but it’s something she can live without. And if Hydaelyn tries to hint at body, well, she also remembers living without that as well.

Your soul is splintered. I thought I mended it, but last time I saw you, I saw you have embraced the fractures, refusing the healing. You act as if you are not your body’s soul.

“I am, but I’m not. I was born someone I refuse to say the name of, but I became Mneme Enki before the rejoining. A’lin’s memories turned me into something more. I go by Lin now. No clan, no father. I am me.”

Pain shoots through her left shoulder, her mind returns to Myste and Zephirin, the javelin of her own aether piercing her skin.

I can heal the pain, the splinters. You are weaker as sixteen than you are as one.

“The whole is greater than the sum of its parts? Are you telling me that?” Her voice is tense.

Zephirin and the pain flash again.

And again.

She will stand still. She won’t look back.

She is stronger as the sum of every memory locked in her. She can learn from others, not just herself.

Hydaelyn chose her. Why, she doesn’t know. Her life in Amaurot, what little she can piece from it, was not on her side. Nor were they for Zodiark. One day she’ll find that fragment, somewhere deep in her soul.

You won’t look back.

“Not until they’re ready.”

“Lin, where are you?” She can hear voices she knows well.

Very well.

Ah, so Hydaelyn tries another tale. Blind her with rage as she had been when Haurchefant died.

Make her beg atonement like a fallen Warrior of Light of the Fourth Astral Era.

Have her kill loved ones in her rage.

“Don’t come near,” she says. “I’ll attack.”

Monsters come towards her. She can’t tell if something woke up in the tower or ir this is the madness in that tale. She won’t attack, she’d sooner pass, endure every hit.

She steels herself with every technique she remembers of the sword. She hasn’t needed it for a long time, only bringing the stone to the front on the rare occasions she wanted to talk to herself. But she puts it in front of her, blocking the swipe.

Defend, don’t attack. This could be Biggs in front of her, not a Zhagnol.

Another swipe, but she doesn’t block. Pain.

So much, but this could be games with her mind. She will not give up. Not unless G’raha is lost, and he’s safe behind her.

One being tries to get past her. She flashes an abyssal drain near it. Don’t get too close. Just enough to grab attention. She won’t fight.

She tosses skill after skill in her head to prevent damage, even her damaging skills she keeps at range. Defend, attract.

She could heal, but that would require her to give in to the anger, fight what she’s facing. Until she can trust her eyes, she won’t.

Shadow Wall. When the violet light dies down, she changes.

Dark mind.

Rampart.

Reprisal.

Every step of the way she keeps defending. The wall is up behind her, she knows that much.

It’s only when she can’t find the will for any others she finally gives in.

“Give me the strength, Fray, A’lin.”

Living Dead. It’s not the best shield, and she can’t get her stamina back alone.

It gives her five minutes though Five minutes of not feeling the attacks.

Still, the time is lost on her without touch.Hearing, seeing. She parries what she can as more beasts come to her.

She takes a deep breath, prepared to lose awareness, and with it, whatever Hydaelyn wants her to.

“Your tale will not end here.”

Two voices echo together. The slightest difference between the two G’rahas.

A’lin stands up, and her vision clears. The beasts are still there, but she can also see Biggs, Wedge, and Cid on the rear.

“I’ve been trying to get you to fight this thing for half a bell.”

“Couldn’t hear you. Was in too much pain.”

Two hands rest on her shoulders.

“How did--”

“You did it, I think,” G’raha says. The younger one. “You hit something that woke them from their slumber.”

Lin grins. “I see. Well, I should finish what I started then.” She takes a pose and wraps herself in the shell of Grit.

She can’t find Hydaelyn in her mind, but she can still feel the blessing. Hydaelyn may want to take it from her, but she’ll fight every second of it.

She and the Older G’raha swap between their skills with ease, as the younger focuses on healing them. Biggs and Cid keep the creations from fleeing. A dance she hasn’t had since Nidhogg possessed Estinien. A dance she missed.

Their strikes are like music in and of itself, his flames with her diving plunge. His Glare with her Verthunder. He throws up the shield as she releases a cascade of refulgent golden arrows.

But once the enemies fall and she’s at Biggs and Cid, she puts her weapons away and find herself back in her Red Mage dress.

G’raha kisses her. The older one she loved. She smiles and kisses him back.

She pulls away for a second, turns to the young one and kisses him too. A few seconds. She pulls away and smiles as a blush cover his cheeks.

“Sorry,” she says. “I made a powerful enemy today. I’m glad I’m alive. if you--”

The younger one silences her with a kiss.

She can share them, learn their similarities and differences, both be willing.

“I destroyed my copy of most of his memories after waking up,” G’raha says. “At least, what I could. He insisted I keep his control over the tower, his ability to cast and defend. I can’t do much, yet.”

She’s passed the threshold, and let her love do the same. She avoided the rage of Halone upon a hero.

But she’s no longer a champion of the Mother. She can only hope the Blessing will never be taken away, She needs to use it, only three more times.

“Let us head to Seventh Heaven,” Cid says. “And the Rising stones beyond. You three have had a trying day.”

[geminimoonbeamx]

Oh, Baby: Chapter One

A/N: Okay so I’ve literally had this in my drafts for the last...six months or so? And I figured I’d tweak it and edit and post it since I’ve been so AWOL on this site lately, and so that I can give you guys some new content from me.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Heavy cursing. This chapter is pretty PG, talks of mental illness, unexpected pregnancy and contemplating abortion- but she doesnt go through with it. Smut to come. AND LOTS OF FLUFF TOO, I promise lol

Summary: After a drunken night, Y/N finds herself having to face the biggest decision of her life; is she ready for motherhood? And a better question, is Bucky Barnes, her long time friend and womanizer extraordinaire, ready for fatherhood? They’ll just have to go along for the ride and find out together. A Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader Story 

Chapter 1/6: The Baby Woe’s and Oh No’s

You knew it.

You’d known something was off, different, changed.

You sit on your toilet, your world spinning as you attempt to wrap your mind around what was going on. Everything seems sludge like, too slow and too fast and not real.

You’re definitely going into shock, you point out to yourself. The catatonic kind. You’ve been staring at the bright, sunny lemon print of the shower curtain, your eyes focused but not seeing. Your elbows rest on your knees and your hands cover the entirety of your lower face.

At least you’re not crying anymore. 

Nope, your body had moved past that-Maybe, it felt like the tears could start rolling again at anytime.

Oh god, what are you going to do?

Why, why, why?

Why you? You’d been a good person- well a decent person at least… You recycled and tipped more than twenty percent. Didnt vote for Trump and ate your vegetables.

And your life was just seeming to even out. You’d somehow landed your dream job a couple months back- every Wednesday night your voice could be heard on WNEX. You we’re making enough money to finally be comfortable- doing what you loved. Gaining a wide audience and wiggling your way into the industry. Your mind was so career oriented, so focused on your end goal that you’d never even considered something like this.

Throwing a big fat wrench in the gears.

One night, it had only been one stupid, drunken night. Hadn't you racked up enough karma coins to cover your ass for one fucking night?

Are you there god? It’s me, Y/N, and I really fucked up this time.

Wanda comes back into the tiled room a few minutes, her dark features soft and a colorful mug in her hand.

“Are you okay?” She gauges, gently, as she reaches out to you.

You snort and shrug, but accept the steaming cup from her anyway. You look down at the swirling, murky drink.

Wishing for just one moment that you could drown yourself in it.

“Look, babe, I know you’re dealing with some major shock right now- but maybe you should go lay down. We’ll figure it out later-” Wanda’s voice is even and you appreciate her being so calm and sure during all of this but you just can't process the situation enough to accept it.

You can't go lay down.

“Why not?” Wanda questions and you didn't realize you’d said that out loud, you hadn't even felt your mouth form the words.

Your head really is swimming. Disconnected from your body a little bit. You force yourself to take a drink of the tea as she gives you a more pointed look.

“Because I have to- I don't know. I have to figure all this out” You protest. You can't hear your voice, how spiked with anxiousness it is.

“There’s not much to figure out” Wanda supplies, unhelpfully as she leans against the counter, arms folded over her chest and you give her a look that’s half between a glare and a gape.

“Um, what the fuck do you mean? There’s so much to figure out, I don't even know where to start” You give a short, sharp, slightly hysterical laugh gripping the mug hard enough to hurt with one hand while cupping your forehead with the other.

“Okay, first things first. And this is the big one: do you want this?”

Well, that whole ‘I'm done crying’ thought you’d had before was a lie. You feel the tears well up once more and overflow, spill down your already swollen cheeks. Your face is hot. Your tummy is full of rocks.

You’d always hated crying. It never made you feel released or freed or lighter like it did for other people. It made you feel icky and stupid. And afterwards it always felt like you’d gotten punched in the nose.

Yes, you did have a therapist to work out those issues with, thanks.

Your mind doesn't know what to do with that question.

You look at Wanda, searching her face as though she might have the answers but she just shook her head and reached out her hand to rub your shoulder. That’s all she could offer. Her support in whatever path you we’re about to embark on.

And then you look down, at the countertop. That was usually littered with stray tubes of mascara or straightening irons. Bobby pins and half lit candles. All the things that resided in the bathrooms of girls in their mid twenties.

In place of those was now four pregnancy tests. All of which read positive.

The first two had been those double lined ones. Two bold lines- both times. Then you’d ran down to the bodega at the end of the block and gotten two more. And those we’re more straight to the point. They literally read the word pregnant- in a font that you don't think you’d ever forget.

Did you want this? Did you want a baby?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I dont know- I’m not ready. The timing is all wrong” You croak.

“Okay” Wanda coo’s “well there's alternatives then-” you squeeze your eyes closed at that thought “Either way we should make a doctors appointment to make sure you’re actually pregnant. I’ve read so many stories about how unreliable these things are”

She holds up one of the tests and rambles on about all of the online articles she’d come across. How some woman had taken a dozen of ‘em, gotten all positive results and then went in and had an empty uterus.

“For one, ew. I peed on that” You nod your head at the test in her hand and she rolls her eyes.

“Other side of it- and I held your hair when you got food poisoning from that shrimp shack. I’ve come into contact with worse body fluids of yours”

“For two- I’m pregnant. I know it. I’ve known it for weeks. I knew something was wrong and I just tried to...think it away, you know? Out of sight, out of mind? I sound insane” saying the words out loud makes you realize how...ludicrous those thoughts had been. But still. It was the truth.

She just nods though “You don't”

There’s a moment of silence. Stretching, as you stew in your reality.

“I’d be doing it alone” you whisper into the mug as you sip on it “I really dont think he’d want a baby”

“You would never be alone, you know that. You have so many people in your life that would support you with this” Wanda protests, sad that you’d even say that.

“You know what I mean” You push on. Because having a good group of friends and family wouldn't change the fact that you were possibly looking at the possibility of being a single mother.

If you decided to keep it, that is.

“Yeah I do- and I don't know if I agree with that. Bucky's a lot of things, an arrogant asshole at that top of that list, but he’s a good guy and I think he’d want to be involved. He doesn't give off deadbeat dad vibes”

All of that was true. Bucky is a good guy, at the core of him.

He was kind and decent and the two of you had been friends for years upon years. He was charming, magnetic and women loved him- you’d found it amusing, before you we’re the one in his bed after a drunken night a month ago.

He’d left your messages mostly on seen since then. You’d only sent a few, but still that had stung. Him icing you out the moment he’d gotten into your pants pissed you off, not only because it was rude but because it was expected.

You knew how Bucky was with women, it had been such an idiot move to sleep with him.

It made it all the more complicated that you ran in the same social circles- had all the same friends. Sam’s small promotion dinner a couple weeks ago had been extremely awkward for you, to say the least.

He’d earned himself the cold shoulder from you and no matter how many times he’d try to broach a conversation with you, crack a joke in your direction, or single you out in a group conversation you pretended he didn't exist.

“Damn, re-jec-ted” It had been so obvious that Clint had of course pointed it out, which was uncomfortable but expected because Clint had no filter like that.

Bucky had stopped trying after that- and started flirting back with the waitress that had been throwing herself at him throughout the night. You cut out early, claiming tiredness. And upset stomach. Whatever to get you out of there.

To say it was a shitty night was a bit of an understatement and you hadn't spoken one word to him since.

“I haven't talked to him since that night- and now I’m what, supposed to call him up and tell him I’m carrying his child because he doesn't properly know how to operate a condom?

“I don't know, yeah? It doesn't mean you two need to get married, but if you choose to keep this baby, that’s going to be a conversation you’re going to have to have” Wanda is so annoying sometimes. She was such a sharp thinking human- always grounded and level headed. She claimed it was from always having to be the “good twin” growing up.

Of course she was rationalizing this whole thing while you we’re floundering about it like a fish.

“I think I should make a doctors appointment” You just mutter. You’d rather focus your attention there. It was easier, cleaner for you. A goal you could actually accomplish.

And so that’s what you did.

//////

They were able to get you in at the end of the week, which in overpopulated New York City was a godsend. And still, it felt like far too long. Like the reality of it couldn't sink in until you talked to a medical professional so you we’re left in some kind of fucked up long until then.

You tried to keep your anxious mind busy, throwing yourself into work. Talking to people over the static airways of the radio about their lives; about the world and all of its workings was so much easier than talking to anyone about what was going on with you.

The only person who knew was Wanda and you’d canceled all of your other plans during the week, not able to face anyone. Not yet.

Lots of sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling. Thinking until your brain physically hurt.

And then you’d turned to you journal- maybe if you wrote everything down it would make sense. If you could see it all, inked out, you could make a decision.

Did you want this child?

Wanda had suggested making a pro’s and con’s list and while it sounded crazy and unhelpful, and you rolled your eyes at it ‘As though that will help’, you ended up doing it anyways.

You start with Cons, naturally. Always had been too damn negative.

Cons:

-I have no fucking idea how to be a mom

-Bucky???

-My job. My career. Who’s going to watch the baby while I work?

-How in the fuck am I going to financially support a baby.

-No room in the apartment/My room is fucking tiny and where will we put a baby

(Wanda said we can turn half of the living room into a playroom/makeshift nursery. How fucked up though? Not even a real nursery)

-No car? A baby on the subway? No thank you.

-Weird to explain to people even if Bucky wants to co-parent. All our friends??

-PAIN

-Pregnancy looks so painful. Birth looks scary. My poor vagine.

-Life is basically over

-The baby will not have a grandmother from your side...

You could keep going on, but you decide to stop there. You could go on, make the list pages and pages long but you decide against it.

Pros:

-I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Always dreamed of babies and motherhood, baby fever crashes over me in waves.

-Me and Bucky’s baby is going to be cute AF(and that just pure facts)

-I have a great support system- amazing friends and family who I know will help

-Bucky could want to be involved. He probably will...maybe?

-He has a big family, i think. The baby would have lots of family

-I don't want to have an abortion. All about pro-choice, but I just...don't know if I can.

That had made you bite the end of your pen.

Adoption?

Could you give a child that you went through nine months of pregnancy up for adoption? Knowing yourself- probably not. You cant even get rid of the moth hole ridden clothes at the back of your closet. Not comparing a baby to a jean jacket- fuck, see how unequipped you were for this?

-I’d be a good mom(I think)

-I could swing it financially. Maybe get a second job

-At least I have a good insurance plan now

-My life might have more of a purpose?

You hide the lists away in one of your many journals. Stick it in the wicker basket under your night stand- and revisit it too many times in those days between.

You make a lot of other lists in that time, too. 

//////

One of them sits tucked in your purse as you make your way to the eighth floor- Arms folded across your chest and the inside of your bottom lip speared between your teeth as the elevator takes you up.

Wanda stands beside you, of course. Sipping on her iced americano. You’d tried to tell her that she didn't need to come, that you were perfectly okay with going on your own. You’d gotten about two words out before she shut you down-

“I already took the afternoon off, don't be ridiculous”

You both know you wouldn't admit it, stubborn as you we’re, but you’d let out a big sigh of relief. You really didn't want to do this alone.

The waiting room is standard for this building, looks similar to the one that you sit in when you see your GP- save for a sign hanging about the door that labels it the OB-GYN.

Fake plants and those standard waiting room chairs that had that weird diagonal print on them TV’s that we’re playing the local news and tables stacked with months dated magazines. There was no windows though and it made the back of your neck feel hot.

The receptionists is nice. Middle aged with mild with droning, mellow voice. She checks you in fast and efficiently and tells you that you’ve got about a 15 minute wait on your hands.

Annoying, you think even though you give her a big grin and a sweet ‘thank you’. You’d been right on time. Why in all offices of all kinds is there always a fucking wait?

Wanda has plopped down on a chair in the corner and is fingering through an issue of LIFE, her long legs crossed at the knee. you sit next to her. The office air conditioner is blasting, it had been a muggy May in the city, but you feel overheated. You let the chunky cardigan you’d donned slip down one shoulder, exposing your skin to the chilly air.

You should feel the cold but you’re over heated. Nervous as hell. Why doesnt anyone else in this office seem nervous?

You tend to people watch when you get overly anxious like you are now. Tend to take in every little detail of every little thing around you.

There’s a black couple- the woman doesn't look pregnant but they’re holding hands tightly and they keep whispering to each other. He smiles and nudges her shoulder with his. Then there’s a Latina woman who looks just about ready to pop and is reading one of the kids book to a little boy with her eyes. A white lady, with twin carriers rocks them gently as she chats with a woman who looked to be related to her, maybe. Older and graying.

You feel like a creep but you can't stop looking at them all. Staring at each of the people who are at different stages of the same  life-path you found yourself on.

Wanda clicks her tongue as her dark eyes focus on the magazine. Muttering, her accent thick, about how the lenses they used for the shoot on the page was all wrong.

Her photographers eye was snobby and elitist.

“Y/N?” The nurse calls you back, not butchering your name which is nice and look over at your best friend.

“Are you sure you don't want me to come back with you?” Wanda whispers, big gingerbread eyes searching yours and you shake your head quickly.

You had to do this, on your own. What if...what if you ended up having to do this whole thing alone? You had to be grown, had to face this solo. That’s just how you felt, even if it might not be true.

“It’s just another appointment- I can do it on my own. I’ll live” there's a reasoning lilt in your voice that she doesn't quite buy but she nods all the same. Tells you that she’ll be waiting right there for you as you muster up all your courage and train your face into a smile, following the nurse into the back offices, the door mechanically closing behind the two of you.

The OB’s office is...warmer then you’d thought it would be. Her desk has frames of all types and her walls are plastered with colorful posters, making the alabaster of the wallpaper less daunting. There was even a window in here.

You’re perched up on the exam table/ chair thingy, staring out at the tall buildings across the street, at the people moving fast below on the sidewalks. You wonder what all of them are doing? How many of the have kids?...

When there’s a soft knock at the door your attention snaps back to the present.

Doctor Helen Cho is a petite Asian woman. She has glossy dark hair that's tied up in a clip high on the  back of her head, and her voice is friendly and her expression open as introduces herself to you and reaches out to shake your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, too” You sound so much surer and more confident then you feel. It had always been your party trick- meeting new people and being able to talk to them. Leaving trails of barley there acquaintances in your wake.

“So it says here that you think you’re pregnant, yes?” She gets right to it, and your appreciative for it.

“Yeah, I know I am.  I took four tests and they all came out positive and I...I feel really off” you try to explain it, poorly but she seems to understand.

“When you say off, do you mean like bad feeling off or?” She probes as she sits at her desk, swivels her chair to face you. Her chocolate almond eyes weren't piercing or clinical, just waiting.

“Not really bad? But I’ve just been so tired lately and I’ve had like, zero appetite. And my breasts have been so sensitive that it hurts to put on a bra” as you tell here these things you could slap your head for not assuming you were pregnant before you’d taken the tests.

Dr. Cho hums and nods as she looks over her tablet “Well from the look of these results from those blood and urine tests your nurse went ahead and gave you when you came in, I can tell you that you are definitely about nine weeks pregnant- so those symptoms are right on with where you are”

You inhale and exhale, bigly. It’s real. It’s been real, was a notion, a happening but now...it’s so freaking real.

And there's a real life changing decision to be made-

That you’d already made before you’d even walked into this office but now seemed even clearer. Crystal, in that moment of clarity.

“I want to keep it” Your confident as you say it. Your voice cracks with some kind of emotion you couldn't even begin to explain, but you’re confident. You’re sure.

Dr. Cho grins at you, and stands, congratulating you then, after she’s sure you even want a congratulations. You like her, think you might.

It’s hard to focus on her voice though because all your mind can think of is the next big obstacle, the next big step in all of this.

How were you going to tell Bucky?

Okay guys? I posted? Crazy right? lol give me some feedback! Comment and tell me what you thought of this. I absolutely love interacting with you guys, but I’m sure ya’ll know that. 

Also- the taglist for this story is still OPEN, so if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters just ask!

@peacefulwriter88 @jaamesbbarnes @jalapenobarnes @brieannakeogh @gifsbysimplysonia @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @lostinspace33 @4theluvofall @plumfondler @tatathekissypotato @siren-kitten-his @skishenanigans @geekyweed @spidey-babe-parker @lastfallenstar @rachelle-on-the-run @prettybubblesintheair @dani-si 

[harry-leroy]

Top 5 soliloquies? Could be from Shakespeare or whatever else :)

Thank you so much for this ask! I appreciate it! I’ll do some from Shakespeare (and probably some from Oscar Wilde let’s be real about ourselves tonight >-

1) I AM STRAIGHT UP NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME (The Tempest) 

All the infections that the sun sucks upFrom bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make himBy inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear meAnd yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch,Fright me with urchin—shows, pitch me i’ the mire,Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the darkOut of my way, unless he bid ’em; butFor every trifle are they set upon me;Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at meAnd after bite me, then like hedgehogs whichLie tumbling in my barefoot way and mountTheir pricks at my footfall; sometime am IAll wound with adders who with cloven tonguesDo hiss me into madness.

- Caliban; The Tempest (2.2.) 

Okay I love everything about the language in this play, but some of Caliban’s speeches are the best places to find these fantastic descriptions of the island that we’re on. Better yet, the way that he describes Ariel and the other spirits is so fascinating to me - it makes me wonder about where Ariel comes from, it makes me want to dive into the psychology (which is exactly what I’m doing for #ProjectTempest which is now #ProjectAriel). There’s a sense of militarism that comes from the spirits. They organize themselves into a hierarchy, with Ariel captaining the whole brigade, and not to mention, some of the things that they do are seen, at least in my eyes, as incredibly violent. In my project concerning Ariel, I am trying to dig into why we see Ariel as morally better than Caliban, even though he does some rather tortuous things, and this speech is full of them. I’m currently reading W.H. Auden’s The Sea and the Mirror, which is a poem that explores duality in The Tempest, using primarily Caliban (who represents the earth) and Ariel (who represents the sky). Auden made this incredible chart using these two ideas as ends of a spectrum, and he calls them both “HELL” (I’ll see if I can find the chart somewhere and upload it eventually because it is fascinating). Ahh, I just love this play so much. 

2) #EXPOSED (Love’s Labour’s Lost) 

Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me!Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reproveThese worms for loving, that art most in love?Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tearsThere is no certain princess that appears;You’ll not be perjured, ‘tis a hateful thing;Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting!But are you not ashamed? nay, are you not,All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?You found his mote; the king your mote did see;But I a beam do find in each of three.O, what a scene of foolery have I seen,Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow and of teen!O me, with what strict patience have I sat,To see a king transformed to a gnat!To see great Hercules whipping a gig,And profound Solomon to tune a jig,And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain?And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?And where my liege’s? all about the breast:A caudle, ho!

- Berowne; Love’s Labour’s Lost (4.3.) 

THIS SCENE. It will always make me laugh, and cry, and feel every human emotion in the book. God, I love it so much. Can we talk about how ridiculous these boys are? Berowne has such a superiority complex - he’s always off by himself, probably musing to himself, even when he isn’t trying to keep secrets from his three best friends. So when he’s found his chance to have a laugh, he takes it. And can we talk about the language in this play? So fun, absolute joy to read. It makes me cry sometimes I won’t lie. I adore these boys, and I adore how everyone gangs up on Dumaine because Dumaine is the baby (and of course he goes after Katharine because why shouldn’t he?) and I will die on this hill. I love this play so much. 

3) DOUBT COMES IN (Lady Windermere’s Fan) 

How horrible!  I understand now what Lord Darlington meant by the imaginary instance of the couple not two years married.  Oh! it can’t be true—she spoke of enormous sums of money paid to this woman.  I know where Arthur keeps his bank book—in one of the drawers of that desk.  I might find out by that.  I will find out.  [Opens drawer.]  No, it is some hideous mistake.  [Rises and goes C.]  Some silly scandal!  He loves me!  He loves me!  But why should I not look?  I am his wife, I have a right to look!  [Returns to bureau, takes out book and examines it page by page, smiles and gives a sigh of relief.]  I knew it! there is not a word of truth in this stupid story.  [Puts book back in drawer.  As she does so, starts and takes out another book.]  A second book—private—locked!  [Tries to open it, but fails.  Sees paper knife on bureau, and with it cuts cover from book.  Begins to start at the first page.]  ‘Mrs. Erlynne—£600—Mrs. Erlynne—£700—Mrs. Erlynne—£400.’  Oh! it is true!  It is true!  How horrible!  [Throws book on floor.]

- Lady Windermere; Lady Windermere’s Fan (Act I) 

“A wife should trust her husband” says Arthur, because it’s all he knows about marriage, that and that he would do anything for his wife. He would throw himself in front of the spear of society’s hatred for her, even though it is what he fears most. Arthur spends his entire life trying to be the model husband, the model son, the model father, the model man in society, he is so focused on perfection that Margaret can’t believe it when he’s fallen from grace. And it ruins Arthur just as much, maybe even more so. Everyone knows that Arthur is a perfectionist. He tries to match Margaret’s model, as Cecil would say “that is the worst of women.  They always want one to be good.  And if we are good, when they meet us, they don’t love us at all”. He feels like he needs someone to reform him, keep him from falling into the pit, but really he needs to relax. He needs to learn how to say “no”. And people have been waiting for him to slip up: Darlington because he wants Margaret, Cecil and George because they find it amusing. For Margaret, this is where the chips fall, where the imperfections finally come through. For the first time, she has reason to doubt him. And she lets it consume her. 

Arthur finds himself in the same position at the end of Act III. He finds his wife’s fan in Darlington’s rooms, and you can feel the tension in his voice, he’s about ready to throw out his back and shoulders from how tense he gets. But he doesn’t blame his wife, he blames Darlington, or at least that’s what he couldn’t bring himself to say. “And if my wife’s here, I’ll -”: he can’t finish his sentence, because it can’t be true. She loves me! She loves me! Thank goodness for Darlington’s interruption. For the first time, he has reason to doubt her. And he can’t bring himself to do it. 

4) HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF (Lady Windermere’s Fan) 

Gone out of her house!  A letter addressed to her husband!  [Goes over to bureau and looks at letter.  Takes it up and lays it down again with a shudder of fear.]  No, no!  It would be impossible!  Life doesn’t repeat its tragedies like that!  Oh, why does this horrible fancy come across me?  Why do I remember now the one moment of my life I most wish to forget?  Does life repeat its tragedies?  [Tears letter open and reads it, then sinks down into a chair with a gesture of anguish.]  Oh, how terrible!  The same words that twenty years ago I wrote to her father! and how bitterly I have been punished for it!  No; my punishment, my real punishment is to-night, is now! 

- Mrs. Erlynne; Lady Windermere’s Fan (Act II) 

- What did Margaret write on that fatal letter? “Arthur has never understood me” says Margaret, “but when he reads this, he will”. It’s a second-generation Nora, the woman who has never understood herself because she’s been smothered. That’s exactly what Margaret has been, losing her parents at a young age, she has been sheltered from every kind of horrible truth there is. She believes her mother died a saint, her father whose heart swelled too much in devotion for such a saintly figure. Lady Julia made sure of that. In reality, Mrs. Erlynne, while not a saint in any regard, threatens to outshine the golden girl of society, her own daughter. Mrs. Erlynne is the life of the party, not her daughter, and what is worse, her husband might love this woman, and now she thinks he has every reason to. “Cowards are always pale” - how can Margaret hope to compete with this woman? Darlington says ‘forget them, run away with me’ - she can’t bear to think that her husband has left her side. “Come back to me?” she asks the Duchess, hardly able to believe that her husband could have left, but it’s Arthur she wants. She tells Darlington, “my husband may return to me”. She would forgive him, because she loves him, but she can’t stand to think of herself as second rate in her husband’s eyes. It’s a feeling that Mrs. Erlynne knows far too well. There’s so much about motherhood in this play that I absolutely love. In my prequel play, The Selby Roses, I attempt to explore similar ideas about fatherhood. There is so much generational conflict in both plays - even seen in the men of this play. Look at Cecil Graham: there is nothing he holds in contempt more than the older generation, but he also fears them. He gets sheepish around Mrs. Erlynne, he loves to talk down to Lord Augustus. “You were never my age” he tells Augustus, almost as if to say “And I’ll never be yours”. Ah, it is such an interesting concept. Okay, stream-of-conscious rant over hehehe :’) 

5) HE’S SOME KIND OF POET (King Lear) 

When we our betters see bearing our woes,We scarcely think our miseries our foes.Who alone suffers suffers most i’ th’ mind,Leaving free things and happy shows behind.But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskipWhen grief hath mates and bearing fellowship.How light and portable my pain seems nowWhen that which makes me bend makes the Kingbow!He childed as I fathered. Tom, away.Mark the high noises, and thyself bewrayWhen false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defilethee,In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.What will hap more tonight, safe ’scape the King!Lurk, lurk.

- Edgar; King Lear (3.6.) 

Will I ever figure out why Edgar is speaking in rhyme here, even though he is alone? Probably not. Though, it does totally make me believe that Edgar knows he has an audience, and it haunts him to no end. There are so many elements to King Lear that make it absolutely absurd, which is why it’s (at least in my eyes) such a good play for 2019. Edgar is performing for self-preservation, but isn’t everyone? Up until this night, he’s refused such a thing. Honesty or I am nothing. The day he accepted playing the game was the day Cordelia refused and that will 5ever end me. 

[kittenshift-17]

If you could only update one story... *tosses around thoughts of devils Angel's, better dig two and tip of my tongue* I honestly don't know but one of your stories that features kids. I don't know what it is about you and your writing but as much as I love your drama and suspense stories the ones that you feature children are the most dear to me. It's as if the story has hands and is giving your very soul a hug you didn't know it needed.

Oh, really?

Why is that, do you know? I’m surprised, if I’m honest.... I don’t have kids of my own, and honestly, I’m not super fond of the little tykes whenever they’re in my vicinity unless they are dressed adorably and looking mildly lost in a supermarket before stumbling on chubby little legs after their mamas or papas, you know? Like toddler age when they can walk, but not talk all that great. Then, they’re kinda adorable. You know, from a distance... where they can’t put sticky fingers on me, or babble incoherently, or offer me a masticated hunk of food they want to share. 

What is it about the fics with kids that I do that you enjoy? Do you have kids yourself? Is it the excursion into fantasy land where, even when they’re naughty, they still cute? 

WHAT AM I DOING TO MAKE THIS APPEALING TO PEOPLE WHO MOST OFTEN SEEM THE ONES IN NEED OF DISTRACTION FROM THE WOES OF MOTHERHOOD????

Devils has 3 votes

Tip of My Tongue has 10 votes

Better Dig Two has 4 votes. 

XX-Kitten.

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 3X09 - Save Henry

It’s time to save Henry...or everyone, save Henry!

See what I did there? Stealthy pun. I can do those on occasion.

Anyway, under the cut you go for the semi-smart stuff, unless you want to save yourself!

Press Release

While Henry’s life hangs in the balance, the race is on to stop Pan from gaining full magical powers from the heart of the truest believer. Meanwhile, in Storybrooke of the past, Regina decides to fill a void in her life and, with Mr. Gold’s help, sets out to adopt a baby.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Past

Wow, Loving Lana’s acting in this first scene with Archie. She’s so muted and given how Regina’s usually up there in the extra squad, it’s so noticable. She looks while not unhealthy, still sickly in a way because of how miserable and lonely she is. It’s a fantastic way of showing just how badly her life needed love and how much of a change for the better Henry was for it. (Not to beat a dead horse, but THIS is the kind of acting a lack of a heart should grant one, Graham!)

Pre-redemption post-childhood Regina flashbacks tend to fight an uphill battle of making Regina sympathetic while also not turning their backs on the fact that she was a legit villain, and this one, like the best of them, handles that concept well! Regina does some bad and illegal things. She casts a curse, chews out basically every Storybrooke character she interacts with, and has Sidney steal Emma’s medical records. But this flashback isn’t about those things. It’s a story about how love started the trajectory of Regina’s redemption.

That’s where the focus is on and appropriately so.

Watching that story is adorable. It’s the first time we see Regina soften to someone immediately and in such a loving way. We see the struggle Regina went through to acclimate herself to motherhood. Look, I’m the daughter of a single mother and I was a bit of a problem child myself: This shit hit home.

The ending story of the segment even shows post-early early signs of her redemption by just showing how Henry’s happiness takes precedence over an ensurement of the safety of her vengeance.

“Sometimes, being a good parent can mean having the strength to give him up.” This line is so important. I like how someone in the real world gives this extra level of validation to the “your best chance” mantra of the series. OUAT has some questionable morals and questionable redemptions. I feel comfortable saying that while I do really enjoy the redemptions we see throughout the series, that statement applies to pretty much everyone in the main cast. Someone (I think @justmilah) put it best at the convention: They’re a bunch of people who probably don’t deserve happy endings but are given them anyways.

Now where am I going with this?

The one message that was always spot on was “your best chance” (Or rather, the giving up line). Parents should put their children first. To give it that real world validation, even if it doesn’t happen in the scene in question, was such a good idea. It’s not that I care about legality in this series.

Present

”You have everything and yet you claim to know what I feel?” I was really torn about how I felt about that line. On one hand, I’ve talked a fair amount about how I dislike Regina’s “woe is me” thing, Emma having a lot of people in her life does nothing to move Henry from being her number one priority, and I don’t think comparing pain is conducive to anything. However, the scene with the Lost Boys where Emma brings up this conversation is a fantastic point for her character and her reaching the Lost Boys with that idea of unexpected love and family is incredibly effective.

Regret vs. Remorse. I think the difference between these two camps is so important, both for this scene and Regina’s legacy. Even as far into the future as Regina’s Good Queen coronation, those vines never would’ve stood a chance against Regina. Regina grew to feel remorse for her actions. That was quintessential to her redemption. If she didn’t, Regina may not have garnered the fandom that she has today nor deserved the happiness she found. BUT, Regina’s path, for as evil as it was, did lead her to Henry, and that is something she’d never go back on. He was the encounter she needed to happen in order to redeem herself and more to that, she loves him. Meeting and getting to know her son was worth it all to her and I get frustrated seeing this line get occasionally misconstrued to saying that Regina regrets nothing because she got something she wanted, like Henry was just a salt shaker on a shelf when the actual situation is nothing like that.

And it makes for a truly badass moment that simultaneously doesn’t take away from her redemption. That was really hard to do, and without going too heavy handed with it, the scene by the tree worked out flawlessly!

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-Those establishing shots set the perfect mood of panic and urgency just before the curse hits.

-”He would’ve understood.” He was begging you not to kill him! XD

-Rumple is such a little shit and I love it. Like, if Regina’s gonna come and gloat, he’s gonna make sure she doesn’t get to celebrate her victory and push every button he can while he still has the chance. And all without leaving his cell!

-I just had a thought. So, as soon as Regina says she’s going to kill baby Emma, Rumple starts talking about the hole in her heart. And Regina and her guards just BARELY miss Emma. Was Rumple stalling to ensure that Emma got away?

- @ussjellyfish, I finally get what you were talking about with Regina’s love of paperwork! Her desk more loaded with paperwork than Smash Bros is loaded with characters and death!

-”What are you feeling?” “Nothing.” The subtle honesty of that line hits me HARD!

-”A child. That can provide so much meaning.” Archie, one shouldn’t have or adopt a child in order to solely give their lives meaning.

-”I need a child, Gold and I need your help.” “Well I’m flattered, but uninterested.” “Not like THAT.” One of my FAVORITE exchanges in the series! XD

-”Well, a mother of some sort.” Even cursed, Rumple is out for fucking BLOOD! -”When you become a parent, you must put your child first.” So Rumple is cursed during this scene, but one has to wonder what exactly, if anything, is his relationship to Bae under the curse. Are they estranged or is he straight-up dead? I use the dead angle in my Golden Hook fanfic, but I’m curious to hear other thoughts.

-Fun fact: If Emma yields a sword, that sword can hurt the unhurtable in exactly the way she wants to! (See also: Season 6)

-Rumple went to fucking bank for you, Regina! Like, not a single flaw!

-Damn! Amazing acting on Lana’s part again! Like, the SECOND she sees baby Henry, she falls in love with him. The gasp, the way her eyes bulge, the softness of her form! It’s amazing!

-Gotta HAND it to Killian! His hook is really doing a good job of keeping Felix in place!

-Awww! Beverly Elliott!!! She just makes me smile!!! <3

-I love how Regina just knows that Mary Margaret is the best person to stick her baby with! <3

-”Well, as long as your plan holds together, she will.” FUCK MACHISMO ISLAND.

-Baby Henry’s reaction to Gold’s shop is EVERYONE’S initial reaction to this little shop of horrors!

-”My memory’s not what it used to be.” *Sighs* Fucking Rumple. I love you.

-”Oh you really know nothing of what I’m talking about.” I love how even when Rumple actually is cursed, even with Regina’s confidence in the opening, she doesn’t buy that it actually happened for a second.

-”Look at what motherhood has done to you.” I love how Rumple’s line (This one and the ones that preceded it) is basically praising the makeup department and Lana’s acting! That’s actually so adorable and deserved on the writer’s parts! <3

-Okay, everyone’s wash of relief upon seeing Henry wake up genuinely had me choked up. The smiles on everyone’s faces and the deep breaths and the music...I think I need a minute *Sobs into eternity*

-”Young sir.” And letting him stay in the captain’s quarters?! Killian, you fucking adorable softie!

-Okay, now THAT’S the Archie who doles out great advice!

-”A glorious curse.” Regina, I love you! XD

-”Too much pizza.” I love the implication of this line that Henry DID have pizza before his trip to New York, but it wasn’t REAL pizza. XD

-Damn, the Jolly Roger’s captain’s quarters are so fucking fancy!

-”I’m sorry it had to come to this, Henry.” No you’re not, you little bitch!

-*Neal and Rumple hug* Sorry, I think I’ve got something in my eye...TEARS! Like, that entire resolution got me choked up.

-*Pan fails at taking Henry’s heart* Yeah! Suck on that, you little bitch!

-”You raised him well.” Awww! Golden Queen contrast!

-Stupid thing to point out, but after all of that hullabaloo in “Dark Hollow,” why were we using the fucking lighter?

-”A hero, a villain, a pirate.” I love how David doesn’t classify Killian as a villain despite being fairly justified in it! Captain Charming FTW!

-”You have a dad now. Now and for forever.” I’M NOT CRYING! YOU’RE CRYING! “I’ll never leave you. Okay, buddy?” THAT JUST MADE IT WORSE!!!!! AND IT’S NOT EVEN BEING SAID TO HENRY!

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

The Mission to Save Henry - There’s such a good feeling of payoff here! Everyone’s working together, communicating, and making risks for each other. David and Emma’s conversation towards the end of the episode about how they all accomplished this is just a testament to how far they’ve come.

Regina’s Redemption - What else is there to say? Regina’s redemption was such a big part of this episode and I already talked in length about why! Well, I guess I want to say that this arc is where Regina really takes her form. She knows she’s done bad and she’s still pretty selfish in a lot of respects, but love pushes her to new emotional heights that neither she nor the audience ever expected!

Emma Accepting Her Parents - Just look at the relief on Emma’s face when she hugs her parents who can both go home with her! <3

Rumple Finding Bae - We finally get to see a big reconciliation between Rumple and Neal! I really liked it, but that having been said, I wish there was more to it than simply “You saved Henry, now I forgive you.” Call me angsty, but that slow rebuilding of their relationship was really great. The fact that they have so far to go is part of what made “Nasty Habits” the fantastic experience that it was. To see it all over so soon after that makes me wish for more. That said, one can make a case that they haven’t fully reconciled AND that at the time they wrote this, Neal was on the chopping block and that resolution with Rumple was best off happening here for that reason.

Favorite Dynamic

Regal Believer. Who else could it be? Just...I love these two! Now, part of me feels bad because Henry plays a much more passive role in this episode than he does in other cases where Regal Believer’s won. In the past, he’s just a baby and in the present, he only has one or two scenes where he talks to anyone. But Henry’s effect on Regina just by the sheer fact that he exists is so much in and of itself. Just by being Henry, he inspires Regina to be her best self.

Writer

Christine Boylan and Daniel Thomsen come off of “Good Form” to write today’s episode! And you know that I loved it. “Solid” is the word of the day here. There’s so much that has to be resolved here and it’s paced so well that one would be surprised by all that was accomplished! Like, Henry is “saved,” Emma recruits the Lost Boys, Rumple is recovered and reconciles with Bae, we see Regina and Henry’s origins, and we see the plan to escape Neverland enacted. That’s a lot for forty four minutes! But the writing and pacing make it feel so natural and while fast-paced, never rushed.

Rating

Golden Apple. What a fantastic episode! It’s beautiful, emotional, tightly written, and has some solid character work! It’s just enjoyable as hell!

-----

I’m all caught up...with last week’s entries! Still three left to go, but I’ve got this!

Thank you all for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales!

Next time, we relocate from Neverland...to The New Neverland. See you guys then!

Season 3 Total (86/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (19/60) Kalinda Vazquez (17/40) Andrew Chambliss (17/50) Jane Espenson (10/30) David Goodman (20/40) Robert Hull (20/40) Christine Boylan (20/20)* Daniel Thomsen (20/30)

* Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Operation Rewatch Archives

[themillennialmommystuff-blog]

The Perks of Motherhood

Hello, and I am new here. I am 26 years old, with a one year old son. So many people look at me as a young mom, and while I am a younger mom, I am not some teen mom or something similar to. I am a stay at home mom, and the adjustment was pretty difficult at first. From listening to my usual music like Dimmu Borgir or Cradle of Filth and Ghost, to suddenly listening to Baby Shark 50,000 times in one day. Sometimes, more often than not, I have to also sing it. “Whaaaa?! Nooo... That song is so annoying! I would never!” Yeah. These were my thoughts at first when my son was just a tiny bundle of newborn. “My son won’t be into that stuff... Maybe I can get by without that.” Ha! Baby Shark, like with many children and toddlers, are among his favorite songs. He smiles and dances every time I do pop out with singing it. Other favorites are the Clean Up song (#blessed) and Wheels on The Bus (lawd please, no!). For the longest time, I would play them through either my Amazon Alexa Echo device or pop it onto youtube through my once beloved PlayStation 4 (I miss video games. I still love the PS4, but for different purposes now.) and pop some earbuds on with some sort of extreme metal band playing in my ear so I could tune out the kid stuff. I realized though, that through listening to many different support systems while struggling through the transition from being a half adult to full on adult with a child, that singing it to him is the way to go. Eventually, I had heard Baby Shark enough times that even when I had a few minutes to myself,  I would break down and belt out Baby Shark, trying to match the notes of the Cocomelon/ABC Kids Tv version. (Btw, LOVE Cocomelon, and the characters. I want to see a movie made. It doesn’t have to be extreme, but it would be cool to see a little more character interaction rather than nursery rhymes. Moms, dads, are ya with me?!) Around the time I started belting out these songs on my own was when the full adjustment got so much more easier. My son was about 6 months old when parenthood finally felt okay and not like some weird territory in which I didn’t belong. The hardest part (besides getting this meal thing right so that he does get the nutrition he needs.) was hearing the judgements from others. Not even judgments on my parenting tactics (everything is actually pretty well balanced and I try maintaining the household like a Toddler heaven, which is basically a daycare without having to share or eat smuckers uncrustables for lunch every day. GROSS!!) but rather judgments on just me as a person. Often I hear, “Oh you’re a young mom. It’s gonna be harder for you.” or even just being treated like I am somehow incompetent. I stand at 5′1. I am quite short even for a female, and I often get treated like I am a kid. Until people actually realize my true age (Oh, I thought you were 16.... Ten years ago, maybe!) It’s the hardest, because even peers I have to see every day often say these things. I am short! I can’t help it! I appear younger because I take care of my skin. I still have eyebags for days (thank the heavens for coffee... Sweet nectar of the gods!) but I still look closer to 16-18 years old. Ha! 

I do get irritated at this, but I also self reflected a bit in recent times and realized that it isn’t just my height and unusually good skin that makes me appear younger, but it’s the very clothes I wear and overall how I present myself. 

Now, there is nothing... I repeat, NOTHING wrong with being your own person while being a parent, so long as you’re not hurting yourself, your child, or anyone else. However, presentation does play a key role in how people see you. Impression is a big thing, and although there’s nothing wrong with a pair of plain jeans and a band tee with Converse Chuck Taylor high tops (me 100%) people are bound to judge you as basically the equivalent of a character off of 16 and pregnant and will assume you’re clueless.  I love wearing band tees and whatnot, it’s a comfort thing but I also want to be taken seriously.  I am nearing my thirties as every day passes, and I find it’s time people stop assuming I am 16 (youngest I got was actually 14... FROM A 19 YEAR OLD. Can anyone say, WTF?!) I do like my comfort, but I also always liked being shiny and glowy. However, coming from a family who couldn’t really afford all of the fancy, shiny things that most girls in my age group wore (Aeropostale was basically Chanel to me. Walmart or Target was the way to go.) I like being shiny, but the financial stress along with other teenage woes made me endure a nasty depression that did take a huge toll on me through my late teens, and kind of dulled my shine to a thick tarnish. A couple years before I conceived is when I finally started waxing the tarnish off and became “shiny” again. So, now that I am back in full swing and then some, I want to be extra shiny. This doesn’t mean I am going to drop $500 at Aeropostale for teeny tiny clothes (I’m not big by any means, but come on, after an 11 pound baby coming out of me, I’m bound to have some squish.) but I have recently come to find the joys of Walmart and simple baby doll solid tees, as well as “denim” skinny jeans. I can look classy, sophisticated, and casual without sacrificing comfort. Even plain white chuck taylor’s match ANY outfit! I still wear band tees and fuzzy pajama pants to bed, but during the day, I want to look more clean cut. Especially since I am growing to my near 30′s, I would like people to take me more seriously. 

In conclusion, I guess this first blog from me was more or less a rant than anything insightful, and I apologize in advance for my ranting on my life. Nonetheless, from figuring out this parenthood thing, to figuring out what the heck to feed my child for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks, to learning how to even cook anything more than just eggs, to figuring out more of what kind of mom I even wanted to be, I have grown so much over the course of 1 year (and three months) and I look forward to growing even more. I feel like I may be becoming one of those soccer moms who are obsessed with Starbucks, but if that is what is written, the so shall it be! 

Sorry, I am a nerd. All in all, don’t let people’s negativity get you down. A perfect parent is a parent who is there and tries every day to become better and better for their children. You are already the perfect parent, despite what others may think! Be there, and love those little people as much as you possibly can before they push you away. One day, those little people are going to be big people. 

Cheers! Have a wonderful week!

-Bekah