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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years ago

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But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

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disgruntleddemon · 5 years ago

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warriors rewrite

so like i’ve said a million times i’m bitter about the writing and plot in warriors.

i might reread the new prophecy to refresh my memory but here’s the gist of my idea from what i remember of the books lol

so the big thing for the new prophecy is gonna be a code rewrite and the clans changing to permanent allies. if you’ve seen moonkiti’s video on the clans joining it would be something along those lines.

the new prophecy would be the perfect place to start. for the rewrite Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, Feathertail, and Stormfur act as older siblings to squilf and Crowpaw. Feathertail is no longer Crow’s mate/crush. instead she’s a big support to him. she’d honestly act much the same as she did in the book ngl.

Storm and feather as half clan cats already find the clan system to be a bit oppressive. i mean hell, they were almost killed for being half clan. Bramble and Tawny are similar in that regard as they’re close but separated.

for this rewrite Crow and squirrel end up together. that along with the groups mutual friendship is where the frustration with the clans begins. the group itself is much closer here, slowly forgetting borders n stuff.

feather’s death has an even greater impact. squirrel and Crow get together after that since they become big supports to each other. Storm is especially affected. he sees cats from other clans grieving for his clanmate too. it really strikes him that they’re honestly no different from each other.

on the journey home he starts to talk to them about the clans becoming sort of permanent allies. after all that’s happened, they’re not that opposed to the idea. Storm is the big driving force for a lot of this. he feels it’s what his sister wanted. Crow, who was also very close to her, is the same. Crow gets a character arc a bit bigger than the others. he really has to unlearn clan prejudice.

the lake journey only emphasizes the need to join together. this time other cats start to see that as well.once they get there, Squirrel and Crow have secret meetings almost off the bat. in fact, the original journey cats meet up as well. (separate to the squirrel and crow one.)ash still asks Squilf out and she still turns him down. she also still has a falling out with Bramble about Hawkfrost. she knows a little about how shitty he is from Leafpool.

Bramble ends up telling Hawk about the gangs’ ideas of the clans joining. i mean hell, he’s got three siblings in other clans. Bramble actually befriends Mothwing in this rewrite. i always found it ridiculous he only acknowledges his brother and not his sister.

Moth loves the idea. as a med cat the clan rules are a bit different so she was already more open to the idea.Hawk uses the multiclan idea as part of trying to convince Bramble to kill firestar. in the rewrite tho, Moth confesses about how shitty Hawk’s been to her and storm. Bramble pretty much cuts contact with him and Tigerstar. the firestar trap scene does still happen tho.

in this rewrite squilf ends up pregnant and asks Bramble to pretend to be the father. they’ve patched up their relationship by now and he agrees. squilf tells leaf about it first. Leaf knew about them being mates and had been jealous.

not of squirrel, but their relationship. i mean her main friend in the new prophecy started to drift away cause of a relationship too. she agrees to help Squirrel however she can tho. she connects more with Moth cause of her jealousy.

a lot comes together with the original journey cats, Leafpool, Mothwing and Graystripe. the big climax is them at a gathering trying to convince the clans to join together. Squilf reveals she’s having Crow’s kits there. Bramble and his siblings stand united. (hawk’s been killed by now)

Storm points out how they all had to work together with the badgers and that the clans do better working together then apart.

Leafpool makes a big selling point. the clans are together in starclan, why can’t they do that now? how many half clan relationships reconnect there? starclan can’t find it THAT bad if it’s allowed there.

the cats mostly argue that the clans should stay individual, but together. allowing for halfclan relationships and working together through hardships.

the clans agree at the end of the arc.

Po3 is mostly buildup to the dark forest. the three are working through their odd relationship with their father. breezepaw doesn’t exist. the tensions with the clans joining are also high. cats like Dustpelt or Spiderleg don’t like it at all.

everyone’s a little snippy with each other. gatherings are still a thing to help maintain relationships. there’s always a lot of bickering here though.

Jay still becomes a warrior. he, Crow, and Squirrel talk to firestar about him being treated better and how they can help him out. Holly still becomes a med cat. she’s not great with herbs and she’s better at fighting but she wants to be higher in the clan. she says leaders are seen as highest but she belives med cats are more important.

Leaf loves her to bits.

the fire scene also happens. Squirrel pushes Ash into the fire. she ends up permanently disabled cause of it tho. (in the book Ash had to help her move the log as she was still recovering from a major injury. i wanted to use that for the rewrite. pushing him in messes up the injury and messes her up real bad.)

omen of the stars is mostly more darkforest buildup. the dark forest cats try to isolate the clans again and turn them against each other. a lot pf the plot is about the three trying to keep everyone together. hollyleaf is the third cat in this au.

might have Dove as the mysterious 4th cat or somthing. maybe i’ll have her move to shadowclan and Ivy feels bitter and like she was abandoned.

anyways, the clans really get tested in the battle. it’s much longer in the rewrite. i felt like the battle was too short in the original. Holly is still killed. Ivy kills Hawk.

Storm, Bramble, Leaf, Moth, Cinderheart, Mothwing, Willowshine, Tawny, Crow, Squirrel, Fire, Ivy, Jay, Lion, they all mourn her. cats actually have and retain friendships in this rewrite. for instance, Lion and Heather get to stay friends.

everyone expects them to become mates but they never do. they’re just good friends.

anyways, i always thought Bramble was a dick in the books. maybe not abusive per se but he was just a jerk. he’s stern but kind in the rewrite. he had so much of his character be about not becoming Tigerstar n stuff. idk i feel like he should have stayed consistently nice. squirrel still becomes his deputy, not as a sign of forgiveness like the books, he just genuinly trusts her.

also we get Tawnystar cause that’s what she deserves.

that’s what i’ve go so far! sorry if u had to read all that lmao! this is just somthing i’ve had in the back of my head, feel free to suggest stuff for it as it’s not too complete.

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thegeminisage · 4 years ago

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the south is like another country

i have an entire essay on how the current radicalism and steep political divide in this country can be traced directly back to the civil war - rural white southerners here playing the part pre-ww2 germany, the part of a resentful, conquered nation assimilated into the nation that conquered them, because if you think about it the south/the confederacy WAS its own nation for a time, that lost a very bloody war, and paid very steeply for it (not that slavers didn’t deserve every bit of misery the “carpetbaggers” threw at them), and the bitterness from that loss/the lost capital from having their slaves freed has been handed down through the generations, to people who now live in abject poverty while their livelihoods are destroyed by late stage capitalism, and their schools are so broke a lot of people here don’t even know how to read, and their towns are eaten alive with meth, and they’re still looked down upon by most of the country for being racist uneducated backwater hicks (to be clear, we should always look down on racism and racists, but it’s not making them any less bitter/ripe for being drawn into the cult of tr*mp’s america and f*cism).

but anyway this post isn’t about that! this post is about how when i go up north and i say “y’all it really is like i’m living in a different country” NOBODY BELIEVES ME. we speak the same language, we’re all americans, right? PFFFFFT. this amazon van thing just drives it home (pun intended). here’s a list of differences from the deep south* to the rest of the country*:

*the deep south here meaning the RURAL deep south. sorry to everyone who lives in cities/the suburbs and/or in border states like maryland and virginia. i’ve been to maryland and virginia and they are technically southern and some of this applies to them but it is not quite as extreme as it is here. the rest of the country includes the other states i’ve been to (california, washington state, new york, etc), which are in mostly every area except the midwest. i cannot personally vouch for the midwest. sorry, midwesterners! rural midwest probably has a lot of things in common with the deep south because rural life is different and also how easily people move around this country, but whatever

this is a long-ass post get ready

difference #1: DRIVING. driving & pedestrians are entirely different un rural areas vs urban areas. for starters, southern towns often do not even have sidewalks. this is because of 1. budget and 2. racism.

budget: rural towns are very spread out, and it costs major $$$ to put sidewalks in. it’s just not worth the trouble, financially, to put a sidewalk where only 12 people are ever going to use it, AND spend the money to maintain it. never gonna happen. racism: initially, suburbs especially in the south were seen as safe havens where people could get away from the stress of living in “urban” (re: integrated) areas. that the neighborhoods were only accessible by car and NOT by people who were too poor (black) to afford automobiles were just an added bonus.

as such, the first time i left the southeast, i was SHOCKED to see people walking and biking WITH (or indifferent to) the flow of traffic. down here we are taught that if you are walking along the road (or biking, because bikers get lumped in with pedestrians down here), it is very very very crucial that you walk against the flow of traffic, because you cannot expect drivers to see you and not mow you down. the onus is on YOU to get out of THEIR way. additionally, walking in knee-high grass along the side of the road sucks, and because there aren’t many people here, the roads are usually totally empty. so oftentimes pedestrians just straight up walk ON the road. and if you do that you absolutely have to be able to see a car coming from a long way away, because rural drivers on completely empty roads tend to take them at extremely high speeds just for fun. the people who live diagonally across from me have had to replace their mailbox four times because folks take that blind curve at 90mph. i had a cat get hit by a car on that road. (they all live indoors now.) i even witnessed a car accident happen there when i was just outside minding my own business. ever see a tire fly 12 feet into the air and come down into someone’s windshield? that’s what happens when you hit power line pole driving like that.

the first time i ever encountered one of those pedestrian crossing buttons was in california in the early 2010s. i had literally never seen one before because we simply don’t have them here. they’re not very self-explanatory if you have been jaywalking your whole entire life because all you’re taught to do is look both ways and make sure the street is empty before you cross. northern/urban roadways are made so that pedestrians and drivers can both get to where they’re going. in rural/southern areas pedestrians might as well not bother.

interestingly, while not an entirely southern problem, there’s a loose correlation between rural areas and more problems with drunk drivers.

on the driving side, driving in a city is batshit insane. it’s both faster and slower. there is NO space and you’re expected to go whenever you have so much as an inch to worm your way in. there’s more traffic, and the traffic totally dictates your speed. in the south you can change lanes if you want to drive faster or slower and weave around traffic or let it weave around you, but in a city there’s no other lane to change to and if you don’t drive at the speed of the people ahead of and behind you you will die. you turn fast, you brake fast, etc. whenever i come back from driving in a city the people who ride with me think i’m insane. you don’t PULL ONTO A ROAD if you can SEE ANOTHER CAR THERE, what the fuck? meanwhile i’m like “lol that is six miles of space i have plenty of time” and give everyone in my vicinity heart palpitations until i readjust.

tailgating in a rural area is something only assholes do (done by people on a two-lane road to encourage the person in front of them to go faster because the only other lane is for oncoming traffic), and if someone gets within one car length of me on a two-lane road i can very passively aggressively slow my vehicle to a crawl until they back the fuck off. in a city you’re lucky if you have a twelve inches between your bumper and the next car’s hood ornament.

difference #2: LANGUAGE. this is a small one, but the southern dialect combined with the lack of literacy means i am learning certain things late in life. phrases i have heard verbally with my ears but had never seen written out include: “chest of drawers” which i thought was “chester drawers” - “seven year itch” which i thought was “seven year each” - “albeit” which i thought was “i’ll be it.” i’ve made a deliberate effort to unlearn mine own accent/dialect but i run into weird shit all the time. remotes are mashers, shopping carts are buggies, you put stuff up instead of putting it away, i fix you a drink instead of pouring you one, we shoot the game instead of play it. my mom LITERALLY can’t understand me if i speak too quickly - she has to remind me all the time to slow down and put on my southern.

difference #3: TECHNOLOGY. issue of whether or not you personally have the creepy amazon vans aside, the rural south is behind the rest of the country on technology. things in cities are AUTOMATED. things like the little button you press to cross the street, tickets you take at parking garages, even the parking meters you find in cities, that’s just the beginning of it. one time i came across a little computer touch screen in a MCDONALDS where you put your order in. you didn’t even go up to the counter. you just put your order on the screen and swiped your card and then they got it ready for you and you never had to speak to a human person. self-checkouts, gas pumps where you can swipe your card and not go in and pay at first...the south got those YEARS behind everybody else. in the mid-2010s i went to DC and visited a target for maybe the 5th time ever and i was BAFFLED by the self-checkout. i had no idea how to use it! it was like less than ten years ago and i was IN MY TWENTIES and i had never seen one before! when we send a package we have to talk to a human person. when we order food we usually have to talk to a human person. apps for places like dominos and subway have not been in use here for very long. my county just got doordash LAST YEAR.

because i am 31, and because the south is so technologically behind, i am actually old enough to remember how when you used to go to a gas station an attendant would not only pump your gas but wash your windshield for you while you just SAT IN THE CAR. that seems like something from the 50s but it actually was a thing here in my childhood IN the 90s. i wish i was making this up.

difference #4: INFRASTRUCTURE. this sort of goes hand-in-hand w/ the last point because so much of our infrastructure is made of technology, and it’s also more of a rural/urban thing than a south/north thing. but just for fun here’s a non-exhaustive list of things i don’t have in my town:

starbucks* - the first time i went to a starbucks i was in my 20s

a public pool - we used to, but now the only pool here requires a YMCA membership. the only baseball diamond in this county is also at the Y.

walmart

in fact, ANYWHERE to buy clothes that is not a goodwill or other secondhand store. i cannot buy clothing unless i order it online or LEAVE MY TOWN. almost all of the clothing i own is from walmart because it’s one of the only places in my entire county where you can actually PURCHASE clothing.

grocery store chains? pffft. my town has two entire stores and both are small southern chains. i didn’t go into a publix for the first time until two years ago when i went to florida. i’ve NEVER entered a whole foods.

food delivery? yeah, no. like i said, we got doordash last year, but before that the only place you could get delivery from was a pizza chain. we only have two pizza places in my town that deliver, and one is a local place, not attached to any chain, so i can’t spend my loyalty points there. (it’s very expensive there too.) last year it was CLOSED for six months because the manager got caught dealing meth. every last one of the delivery drivers was trafficking it for him. they all got fired and had to restart from the ground up. for that short time, it was not possible to get any food delivered to your house whatsoever.

a hospital/ambulance services - if someone is sick, we have to take them to the hospital in laurens, the town next door (about 15-20 minutes by car). the town i live in lucky - we have our own police and fire departments. (acab but you know what i mean.) joanna is a smaller town next to mine that isn’t a real town - it’s been demoted to a census designated area because only 2000 people live there. if they have an emergency, they have to use OUR fire and police departments, and LAURENS’s ambulance/hospital system

after-school places kids can go to keep from getting into trouble. we have the Y, if you have money (no one here has money), and we have churches, but mostly schools can’t afford to run too many extracurriculars. there’s nothing to do here but church and meth.

food banks: zero. we have food DRIVES sometimes where people will come from further away and bring free food, but if you’re hungry, there’s nowhere you can go for help - you have to wait for help to come to you.

libraries: we don’t have our own library. we have a branch of the county library that’s physically located in our town. but we share books with the rest of the entire county, so everything is always checked out or at the other branch.

*we technically have a starbucks that’s in the local college campus, but only college students are allowed to be there. they’ll still serve people without a college ID because no one gives a fuck, but you can’t linger and loiter and hang out like you do in a normal starbucks. we also have one in the barnes and noble in greenville, which is about an hour away by car, but again, it’s a mini starbucks that serves a limited menu and none of that weird Starbucks Culture™

here’s a few things i don’t have in my ENTIRE COUNTY:

movie theaters - technically. we have a Historial™ one-screen theater in laurens that shows one movie for two weeks a month after it hits regular theaters and then switches to another, and if you miss it, too bad. this is a VERY recent addition - it wasn’t restores until i was in my 20s as a kid and a teenager i had to ride in a car an hour or more to go to the movies.

target. only commies and yankees have target. down here we do walmart.

malls

arcades

skate parks/skating rinks

bowling

museums

zoos/aquariums

campgrounds

fairs. our county fairground got razed a decade ago because there just werent enough people showing up to justify the expense. so no more fairs. you have to have people to fund things and down here there just aren’t enough people anywhere.

you get the idea. we don’t have entertainment. like i said, nothing to do but church and meth.

CLASSES FOR STUFF: knitting classes, dancing classes, driving classes? nope. gymnastics, karate dojos, golf, knitting groups, books clubs, cooking classes? [GAMESHOW BUZZER]. you can’t even hire a clown for a birthday party out here. we do have a shooting range. ONE. in the entire county. and a race track. and a rather infamous former kkk memorabilia store. they made a movie about that (serious tw for this trailer - they’ve got white hoods, burning crosses, pepper spray, the whole nine), which, yes, takes place in laurens, aka right next door to me. i used to walk by that place all the time when i was playing pokemon go. haven’t seen the movie but the shooting locations in the trailer make laurens look a lot bigger and prettier than it really is in real life - especially the racetrack, which, in the trailer, is actually PAVED. (this is inaccurate to real life.)

EDUCATION: lots of people can’t read. we have two schools for illiterate adults, one religious college, and one branch of one of the state colleges that has a skeleton staff and a fuck ton of computers (you basically just go there to distance learn/e-learn - if you want to take real classes from this college, you have to drive at least an hour.)

support groups/group therapy: almost none. we have al-anon and weight watchers, but that’s about it. there’s only half a dozen therapists in my entire county, and none that operate from my town. mental healthcare down here is bullshit.

on food: we don’t have many sit-down restaurants, where servers bring you your menu and your food. if you don’t count waffle houses, my town has 4. my county has 9. in and out, 5 guys, applebees, ruby tuesday, red lobster, olive garden, panda epxress? forget it. those places were and still are rare treats. i’ve only been to an olive garden twice. red lobster once. whenever i leave my county i BEG for chinese because there’s only two chinese restaurants in our entire county and one of them is crazy expensive and the other one sucks.

we also don’t have the more important stores you need to like, live. if we need to exchange our router at a charter store? yeah, we don’t have one. need to visit the sprint store to get your phone repaired? nuh-uh, we don’t have any phone stores either. my family recently switched to at&t because it was the only company that had a physical location in our county. before that, we had to drive an hour for even the smallest repair.

on a grimer note: we don’t have homeless shelters! homeless in laurens county? too bad for you. we do have homeless PEOPLE. they just have nowhere to go except the churches

hospitals? only kind of. like i said, our county has one, but it’s not equipped to take seriously sick people. when my mom had a heart attack she had to be driven straight to greenwood, which is 45 minutes away if you’re not in an ambulance. they obviously made it faster than that, but still. that was scary. it took them a long time to get here. i had a distant relative of mine die before the ambulance made it because they were SO far out in the sticks, even further than me.

we also don’t have any specialty stores. sporting goods, gamestops, shoe stores, florists, craft stores, bookstores, best buys...forget it. if you can’t buy it at walmart, you just can’t buy it. the exceptions: my TOWN has one jewelry store, two hardware stores, and two auto repair stores. my COUNTY has three clothing stores, none of which are in my town, one place that sells used TVs, and one movie rental place. thrilling, right? i can rent a movie if i drive out of town. (i know streaming killed the rental business, but we also only had two places when i was a kid, if you counted the rental section in the grocery store.)

so, yeah. i know the term “shithole” is really loaded these days, but rural areas are just plain less developed, and often in seriously poor repair because nobody fucking uses them. there USED to be more stuff here - my mom was on a bowling league, and as a kid i had a birthday party at a skating rink - but late stage capitalism and drugs destroyed it all. people ran out of money to do things like skate and bowl and so those places closed. the south is full of empty store fronts and deserted strip malls slowly being eaten by kudzu. my brother got out of this town and whenever he winds up back here (not often) he remarks on how completely and utterly dead everything feels. “my friends who live in greenwood now think they’re all rural,” he said once. “they complain constantly about how remote it is. but they have no idea. they wouldn’t make it five minutes out here.” greenwood has its own movie theater, mall, starbucks, homeless shelter, food bank, and hospital.

so, yeah! if you were wondering what rural white southerners are so fucking mad about, that’s part of it. propaganda and xenophobia and racism has their anger directed ENTIRELY at the wrong people, but it’s hard to argue that the anger itself isn’t just a little bit justified.

difference #5: CULTURE. specifically culture around food, and the culture around the civil war. i could write an entire other essay about the culture of the church being everything because the church IS the only semblance of infrastructure we have and this is why the south is so homophobic, but we’ll skip that for now.

food: this is a quickie, because i sort of touched on it already, but there are like, almost NO vegetarian options here. there’s very limited choices of cuisine. it’s ALL waffle house and soul food. we have a lot of mexican places because we’re physically close to the mexican border, but aside from that, forget finding like indian or thai or japanese or anything like that. no sushi. forget finding a menu that has meals that are halal or kosher. there’s just. no culture here. no variety. you know? like i said, our entire county doesn’t even hit double-digits for proper sit-down restaurants.

civil war: i’m not going to go into the big stuff since i sort of covered it at the top and also this post is getting way too long, but to other white rural southerners there is legitimate baggage around the fact that my mom married a yankee and that i am half-yankee. and he’s not even a real yankee! he was born up north but raised in southern florida. (florida is weird. the further south you go geographically, the less southern you are culturally.) yet: my family makes jokes that are sometimes not jokes about this. when i drop this information in casual conversation people get that look on their faces like: ah, that explains it. it being that i am not religious and don’t laugh at racist jokes and maybe i am queer?? (strangers tend to be unsure about this last part, even when i’m wearing rainbows.) it’s because i’m half-yank! that explains everything! the xenophobia is SO strong here that white people are even xenophobic at OTHER WHITE PEOPLE.

so in conclusion when i say the north is like another country, it’s because the people who raised me think of it like another country. and culturally! it is buck wild! the differences that there are! when i leave this town i feel like i step into fucking star trek! if you are not from the rural south, and you have never been to the rural south, please do not come here! i’ve been to a few different places now and this is definitely my least favorite one.

#personal #i guess #it's ok to rb if you want to though??? tbh i don't think most people will even get to the end lol #anyway here's my college lecture about the south it's not very good or college level actually lmao #this is AIRQUOTE FIELD STUDY AIRQUOTE #the experiences u have as a half-yank white person in the rural south are crazy #bc other white people think you're okay to listen to them say what they REALLY think #and then backtrack rapidly when they realize you aren't #now that i'm grown and woke i can't believe half-yankee is even a thing.#anyway this post brought to you by the maddening realization of how technologically far behind we are #WE DON'T EVEN HAVE THE CREEPY AMAZON VANS #the automated package sending...what i wouldn't give not to have to talk to people to mail stuff #rip. :/

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evie-quinn · 5 years ago

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Evie Quinn Biography

g e o m e t r i c s

↬ Full name ↫

Evie Tiara Quinn

↬ Nickname ↫

Her friends refer to her as E sometimes idk if that counts as a real nickname

�� Birthday ↫

May 1st

↬ Birthplace ↫

Isle of the Lost

↬ Zodiac ↫

Taurus

↬ Height ↫

5′4″

↬ Orientation ↫

Bisexual

↬ Social Class ↫

Middle upper class I’d say?

↬ Wealth ↫

She does well for herself selling garments and baked goods but of course has always envisioned herself living “happily ever after” in a castle so there’s a bit of a disconnect there.

a p p e a r a n c e

↬ Tattoos ↫

She doesn’t have any tattoos yet mostly because she can hear her mother’s teachings engraved in her mind about tattoos “tainting” a woman which Evie obviously knows isn’t true but she still hasn’t worked up the courage to get one.

↬ Piercing ↫

Just her earlobes!

↬ Outfits ↫

Evie’s main passion is fashion so you know she’s always looking her best, usually she wears things she’s made herself and in her signature color: blue

↬ Accessories ↫

She’s a big believer in accessorizing and has a huge collection of rings and necklaces etc.

p e r s o n a l i t y

↬ Normal mood ↫

She’s always very bubbly and energetic. She prides herself on trying to remain positive and spread light.

↬ Temper ↫

Evie’s probably one of the most patient people you’ll ever meet. She’s never been one to have much of a temper but can get angry if provoked.

↬ Discipline ↫

Evie generally likes to follow the rules. Aside from getting into trouble with the Core gang, she’s rather responsible. The Mama Bear so to speak.

↬ Strengths ↫

Her kindness is her main strength. She’s also a hell of a cook and baker and can create any type of clothing.

↬ Weaknesses ↫

Her relationship with her mother. They were close throughout her childhood and even when she first moved to Auradon but as of late she’s become more reluctant to maintain a good relationship with her mom because the woman has a very strong influence over her.

↬ Drive/dreams ↫

She dreams to open her own fashion boutique in Auradon complete with her personal handmade designs for clothing and accessories. She also always wanted to be royalty but after the whole Kit fiasco that dream has been sort of dissolved.

↬ Fears ↫

Losing the bond she has with Rose, Kai, and Chase, being sent back to the Isle, and inheriting her mother’s cruelty are probably the biggest ones.

↬ Likes ↫

Fashion, socializing, learning, baking, her friends.

↬ Dislikes ↫

Bad attitudes, real fur in fashion, Nolan (sorry Sloane and Ben), but mostly Kit.

↬ Soft spot ↫

Always the Core gang.

↬ Depression ↫

Thinking of how she was robbed from having a better upbringing by being on the Isle, especially after seeing that some of the kids raised in Auradon are scum.

↬ Inspiration ↫

Evie’s always been a materialistic girl, so her thought process at this point is if she works hard she’ll be able to earn things for herself to show off, so that’s kind of what drives her to be successful.

↬ Role model ↫

As a kid, it was her own mother and also Ben’s mom because she was basically who Evie aspired to be (a fancy royal). Now? Her role models are probably Rose and Sloane because she admires them both so much in different ways.

↬ Mental disorder ↫

N/A

↬ Habits ↫

She fidgets with her fingers quite a bit. She used to bite them as a child until her mother made her wear nail polish constantly to try and break the habit. Now, Evie is rarely seen without painted fingernails.

r a t i n g s

(5 Stars means very high strength, 1 star means very low strength aka weak)

↬ Psychological strength ↫

I’d say 3 or 4. There are some cracks in her mental stability as she starts to unlearn the not so great things her mother taught her.

↬ Physical strength ↫

3, she can hold her own but is still just of average strength.

↬ Leadership ↫

I’d say 5. Evie can lead or be lead, and she enjoys both. When her Mama Bear instincts come out though, she is In Charge and no one will stop her from achieving her goal.

↬ Wisdom ↫

4, she is incredibly wise and is rather calculating in thinking through her decisions (aside from the Kit stuff)

↬ Intelligence ↫

5 for sure, street smarts from the Isle and then straight As in Auradon.

↬ Confidence ↫

I’m gonna say 5 because appearance wise she is fully confident and doesn’t have any struggles there, and she’s also pretty confident when it comes to decision making.

↬ Endurance ↫

Evie’s tough despite her pleasant outlook on life. She doesn’t handle change all that well but can fake it till she makes it.

r e l a t i o n s h i p s

↬ Father ↫

She never knew her father and as a child, Evie’s mother was always enough for her.

↬ Mother ↫

The Evil Queen who is still back on the Isle spent Evie’s childhood grooming her into “the perfect lady” which has left Evie equal parts thankful and resentful towards her mother.

↬ Siblings ↫

She has no siblings and grew up as the center of attention.

↬ Other relatives ↫

Oh Nolan, sweet great step nephew Nolan. They do not get along although Evie is truly trying for Sloane and Ben.

↬ Enemies ↫

Kit Charming

↬ Rivals ↫

Also Kit Charming I guess, maybe Cora to spice things up a lil

↬ Friends ↫

Rose, Sloane, Chase, Kai, Ben

↬ Best friend ↫

Rose, there’s just so much history there and they came out of it stronger.

↬ Love interest ↫

Chase even if she doesn’t know it yeeeet.

↬ Marital status ↫

She’s single for the moment.

↬ Children ↫

N/A

↬ Pets ↫

Now that she has her own place and gets kind of lonely, she’s been toying with the idea of adopting a cat.

p a s s - t i m e

↬ Hobbies ↫

Bake, sew, read.

↬ Talents ↫

She can take the ugliest piece of fabric and turn it into something beautiful. She’s also impeccable at cheering people up.

↬ Sports ↫

She loves a good Tourney match every now and then.

↬ Classes ↫

Evie always tries to take the most diverse course load she can because she absolutely loves learning in every subject and she’s damn good at it.

↬ Occupation ↫

She’s mainly a student but often does little fashion related sidejobs and sells some home baked goods to classmates.

h o m e l i f e

↬ Location ↫

Auradon

↬ House size ↫

Small in general but more than enough for her right now.

↬ House type ↫

I’d say more modern.

↬ Level of luxury ↫

Her place itself doesn’t look very luxurious at first glance but Evie’s spruced it up with decorations of course.

↬ Outdoor description ↫

Cozy and modern.

↬ Indoor description ↫

It’s basically a two bedroom with one of them acting as her studio but she’s kind of overflowed her fabrics and designs into other areas of her home because you never know when inspiration will strike.

↬ Bedroom description ↫

Lowkey princessy like her bed spread looks like it belongs in a castle and her vanity is by the window so she can see outside while getting ready.

L I F E S T O R Y

↬ Age 0-12 ↫

Her mother began basically a type of home-finishing school in which Evie was trained in all the ways she was supposed to behave if she ever wanted to be noticed by royalty. I imagine her and Rose didn’t get along much during this time.

↬ Age 13-18 ↫

Spent most of her days with the Core gang getting into mischief and dreaming of a day she could visit Auradon and live amongst the heros she wanted to be around, little did she know she’d actually get the chance to live there.

↬ Age 19-30 (or 25) ↫

Living the dream in college tbh making new friends, keeping her old ones, and trying to find her own path in the world. Kind of unsure if her wants and goals are her own or if they’ve trickled down from things her mother instilled in her as a child which as she’s learned now, some of those lessons were problematic.

↬ Darkest secret ↫

N/A for now...

#evie: bio

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emathevampire · 5 years ago

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👹💥🌊🍇 for Alexis!

This got kinda long, so I’m gonna put it under a cut here. Alexis is one of the NPCs in my d&d campaign, True Neutral and good at staying that way, so these were actually pretty tough.

👹 How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)? Alexis is an Amazon, and she’s trans, in a race of people with extremely obvious sexual dimorphism (male Amazons are much less muscular, and usually cap out at 7ft tall maximum, while female Amazons are much taller, between 7 and 9ft. Alexis is 6′5.) so she’s uncomfortable in a lot of spaces in her homeland due to misgendering and sexism from other Amazons (non-Amazons can’t usually tell the difference between the sexes, and are more likely to think she’s some sort of tall weird elf, so it’s less of an issue for her among other races). Though things are better than they were for others like her now, in large part due to her efforts. She’s always on edge in her homeland, which is part of why she likes adventuring. In a dungeon, everyone respects the trap finder. In the city... not always so much. She’s generally quite friendly, being a champion fighter in her guild, but gets very aggressive when strangers make comments they shouldn’t. She’s estranged from her blood related family (stole their relic shield and ran away to join a tribe of Gnolls as a child and never looked back), and doesn’t have many real friends (Aodyni is the closest thing she has to one, and even then, the only reason she’s trying so hard there is out of guilt). She’s a mercenary, and tries to keep things professional: she fought hard to earn the reputation she has, and isn’t about to lose that because she winds up emotionally compromised over her team members. That being said... she’s very protective of others, very loyal, and it shows in the combat styles she pursues, built around perfect teamwork and defense. One whiff of infighting in her party and she gives them a single chance before she forces an intervention. Friendship may not be the tie that binds her, but so help her, this team is NOT falling apart over something that can be fixed by just talking to each other, dammit. No drama. She’ll kill for you, die for you, spelunk through an ooze-infested dungeon for you, but she won’t talk behind another’s back, no matter how much you pay her to. She tries to set a good example for children, and though she doesn’t particularly like them, she doesn’t mind them. Especially if they think she’s a cool adventurer. As for lovers... I don’t really write a whole lot of romance, so I haven’t really explored that for her at all yet. I don’t actually know how it would go! She is available to be romanced as an NPC, potentially, though I don’t think anyone is going to go that route. I have tragically failed to make this campaign a dating sim for anyone except me, it seems...

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this? She’s actually... pretty darn well put together, emotionally. But she doesn’t handle betrayal well at all, doesn’t like being lied to... her skill set is all built around trusting others, and if anyone were to break that trust, she wouldn’t know how to handle that at all. Hates to feel disrespected or have her efforts go unappreciated, and she isn’t afraid to speak up and be blunt about it when she feels this way. Mostly because she’s dealt with sexist people dismissing her due to her appearance her whole life, and has painstakingly carved out a reputation for herself as a skilled professional. She knows her worth, and she’s not about to take any crap from people who can’t afford it.

🌊 What does your OC do on their days off from working, school or whatever else it is they may do? Do they enjoy relaxing, shopping, hanging out with friends? What is a normal day like for them? Days off usually get spent training for whatever’s next. She enjoys entering tournament fights, meeting new people, learning new things... and more importantly, making money. She’s always on the hunt for her next job. If she didn’t enjoy what she does so much, you might call her a workaholic... but when “work” involves jailbreaks, cat burglary, and dungeon crawling, the term somehow feels less accurate. Relaxing for her usually means getting drinks and dinner with whatever team she just got back from a job with, getting in a brawl... and starting all over again with whatever adventure is next.

🍇 Does your OC have any bad habits? Does your OC have any addictions like smoking or drinking? How did they fall into these habits and why? Bad habits... none of the usual ones, she doesn’t really have any vices. Loves adventuring, but isn’t really a thrill-seeker, doesn’t generally start a fight she can’t finish, either, and she’s a good sport if she ends up losing. Only one I can really think of is that she offers to waive her fee for whoever can beat her in a fight. This is more a pride thing than anything else, and she’s only ever actually lost that wager once. Maybe grudge holding? Insult her once, and not only will she kick your ass for it, she’ll never forget... or forgive. Only thing I can really think of is that she doesn’t just keep people at arm’s length, she keeps them at spear’s length, literally, with a 15ft pole. She doesn’t make friends, she doesn’t want responsibilities, and has a habit of pushing them away with her blunt “We’re not friends, I’m a professional, pay me for my damn services or I’ll find someone who will” attitude. Which may have started as a defence mechanism, but at this point is a bad habit that she’s struggling to unlearn, as she’s faced with an elder evil that can only be defeated by the power of love... so this party of misfit adventurers she’s with has gotta learn how to overcome their differences, traumas, and “We’re Not Friends Just Allies Until This Mess Is Over” attitude real quick, or this is a battle they can’t hope to win. She lost this fight once before when her last team fell apart, and isn’t willing to lose again... though she has no idea how to stop pushing others away, and neither does anyone else.

#rixa's rants #rixa writes #thanks for the ask!! sorry its so long oops #alduinsbanes

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walmartkaligaris · 6 years ago

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⌜ CIS FEMALE, SHE / HER | buy me diamonds by bea miller, ravenclaw, estj ⌟ ⏤ meet ANDREA PYRENA KALIGARIS ; a TWENTY year old who kind of resembles ALYCIA DEBNAM CAREY, don’t you think? they originally hailed from OLYMPUS ( ATHENS ) where they lived with their parents, HERCULES & MEGARA ( HERCULES ), but word is that they’ve been coming to terms with their mortality this past year. they’ve always been pretty AMBITIOUS & SELF-SUFFICIENT, but have gotten way more HEDONISTIC & DOMINATING since they woke up. maybe their power of WEATHER MANIPULATION & ENHANCED CONDITION can help in taking down the dome. you can check out her stats HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

very EARLY in her life, it was too late.

SECTION ONE OF THREE : BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for infant death

you can check out andrea’s full bio HERE - there really isn’t that much to her.

her parents never planned on another kid after alex, they got pregnant, megara went into labour prematurely, andrea wasn’t breathing when she was born. after extended efforts to try to save her, the drs gave up. LEGALLY, andrea was dead.

and then her mom made a deal with hades. as you do.

in exchange for andrea getting to live for twenty one years, hades was promised her immortal soul. megara thought that was a good trade at the time, lest she lose her daughter forever, and the contract was signed. cue the baby waking up and beginning to thrive, and everyone hailing her as a ‘miracle’.

needless to say, the fact that she has a dozen or so newspaper clippings talking about her miraculous turn as an infant, AND the fact that reporters would check in every five years or so with the kid that cheated death ... kind of went to andrea’s head.

not that like, anything else wouldn’t have. andrea was an INCREDIBLY spoiled child, and she had very few expectations placed upon her shoulders - unlike alex, who had them all.

she was always closest to megara. it was just how the cookie crumbled, and it probably had a great deal to do with how she was the only one to know the limitations on andrea’s life. she indulged her every whim and forgave her a lot of mistakes and whatnot over her childhood, lending to why andrea ultimately realized she could do... pretty much anything, and her mum would always champion on her behalf. on the flipside, her closeness with meg meant that she had little room left for hercules - and that, in combination with the fact that he really didn’t know what he was supposed to do as father of a little girl, meant that they... weren’t really close, at all. he certainly LOVED andrea, and mollycoddled her in her youth - but he saw through her in a way her mum didn’t, and likewise, responded to her in a way she wasn’t used to.

as for alex... - her older brother didn’t care for her, and andrea didn’t much care for him, either. it can certainly be said that they were HORRIBLY alike, but andrea was a great deal more entitled, something that alex didn’t have time for. the age difference, though slight, didn’t help - she was too young to be a peer, and he was too old to be of any interest to her. as a young child she perhaps wished she could follow him around, more, but she lost that as she got older and hit double digits. their relationship very soon became defined as alex being the ever popular one, first, and andrea hating that she could emulate that perfectly but always had to come SECOND.

she belonged on olympus, or at least she thought as much. her grandfather doted on her in a way he didn’t, with alex, and it did wonders for her ego to know that her family were all GODS and she was descended from them. no one ever wanted anything more from andrea than what she could give, and she got very used, very quick, to always being able to sort of... get what she wanted, and be forgiven her faults. everything that made her a ‘bitch’ on earth made her a GODDESS, on olympus. of course she was better than mortals. it was in her blood.

she attended private schools her WHOLE life, and she made them into her own personal playgrounds. where she had gotten used to coming behind alex in social circles back home - her friends were often the siblings of alex’s friends, who had memories of the other before andrea had ever come along - she found that away from all of that, she could be her own person, outside of his name. it was an exciting time for her, and it was also kind of.. detrimental, really, to her being. all the traits she might have unlearned if she had been humbled simply became staples of her personality, once and for all, as people looked to her and were in AWE of her for the way in which she carried herself.

alex being signed to PSG coincided well with andrea finally having to begin attending university, and up until that point, she had always thought she would settle for the worst school - university college disney, in santa barbara - over attending the same one as him. with his leaving, she could finally go to walt disney university. the best of the best, for the best. you can kind of understand, then, why she felt she had made SOMETHING of a mistake when she arrived and realized that alex’s memory wasn’t easily forgotten. she hated walking down corridors and having to see pictures of him with his team. hated his name being on trophies. hated people hearing ‘kaligaris’ and thinking alexander, not ANDREA. i said she had an ego, man.

but it was a good school. and she had always prioritized herself, over anyone else. she wanted to be there, so through gritted teeth, she decided to make it work. no matter what.

SECTION TWO OF THREE : HEADCANONS trigger warnings for talk of death

the most serious of developments for andrea has been learning of her ultimate fate ; something that happened on her twentieth birthday. with no way of helping her daughter in sight, and feeling that it was no longer her place to hide it, megara told andrea the truth, and andrea... kinda lost her shit. she’s going to die, and she doesn’t want to. nobody does, i suppose, but she’s always loved herself a great deal, and always had DREAMS for her future that now she realizes are forever out of reach. her mum thought it would be a kindness, to give her something of life rather than her getting nothing ; but it was a selfish choice born from not wanting to lose her daughter, and andrea... doesn’t appreciate it, as much as she probably should. it wasn’t enough.

she used to beg her grandfather to create a pegasus for her, and after many years and her mother saying ‘no’ a couple hundred times, the family settled for allowing her a cat. he’s a five year old maine coon named milos, and he hates absolutely EVERYONE, including andrea most days - but in her eyes, he’s the most precious thing that exists.

alex is, admittedly, more famous than andrea as a signed player for the paris saint germain team. but andrea is more social media famous ; a fact that brings her a LOT of joy, and him a lot of chagrin. she amassed quite a following while she was still attending school in europe, both for the photos she would post on her instagram and her wit on twitter. it continued on to when she started attending wdu, with andrea making time for her social media accounts and ‘fans’, and becoming... something of an internet celebrity. she even has a youtube channel, though she doesn’t post on it half as much as she used to. it’s nice that in at least one place, alex is HER brother, not the other way around.

she cleans when she’s stressed. she wants to be another demigod that achieves godly status, no matter how long it takes. her nails are always painted white. she suffered from dyslexia as a child, and still does. she isn’t exactly the strongest person, even with enhanced condition, but she IS wickedly intelligent and has an iq pushing 165. i cld prob think of more but i dont want to.

SECTION THREE OF THREE : WANTED CONNECTIONS

can she uh ... have some friends ? andrea is still like, a horrible person, but she’s really... tryin. i guess. to be better. please

deep sigh. enemies too

exes ! rivals ! all the basic connects

ill do more lates

#wda: intro #⌜ ･ﾟ ♛ ･ * beware the woman that you think you know ― andrea pyrena kaligaris. ⌟

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silenthillmutual · 6 years ago

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okay. warning for negative bc this is kind of a vent post?

so. i’m still working on unlearning a lot of things that i had kinda drilled into my head with my mom that i did not realize were bad until recently? or things that i could not easily voice were having negative effects on me until recently. and i’m kind of thinking about how my mom is very. hhhhhhhh.

my mom does not have a life outside of work. and not like, “oh she’s very dedicated to her career” sort of way. but like, she does not believe in taking time off. and i think in the way our capitalist environment functions that always comes off sounding very admirable. it’s not.

because what that equates to is like, she works to avoid other things in her life. she says that she can’t afford to take a break or any time to herself and my best friend and i had told her repeatedly that if she really wants a relationship she is going to have to take time to devote to that which means working less if only by a little bit! and that i have told her that she should take time to herself to relax whether she had a relationship or not because it’s not healthy to obsess over work the way that she does.

and. i guess she does a bit now. i saw recently on her fb that she went to colonial beach w her boyfriend and like. good for her. but that doesn’t erase that she is constantly harping on me, even from a distance, to do like. everything all in one day. and that i should be working 40+ hours a week and that if i don’t do that, that i’m lazy.

like my mom’s version of workaholism is to view herself as the rule and not the exception, which i can see in certain contexts how that translates into “oh so she’s not full of herself” but it’s actually really the opposite! because i think it takes a special brand of narcissism to assume that everyone is and should be exactly like you and that if they are not they are failing and that is their own fault.

so, my mom has fibro, like on top of all of that and i wonder if she’d feel better if she didn’t constantly push herself into working all the time. and the truth is that she’ll look at any time i spend online regardless of what i’m doing (bc she doesn’t ever care what i’m actually doing on there, to her it’s all the same) as time wasted and an addiction to the internet. and she thinks that everyone else w fibro or w any chronic or mental illness can work exactly as much as she can because if they do anything less they’re being lazy.

and i think you can kinda see why it’s an issue for a licensed therapist to think or feel that way.

so like. i have never pursued any job that says it’s part time, under $10 an hour that wants me to work 39 hours a week (one hour from full time in the commonwealth of va), no benefits, 8 hours every day, retail, with a massive list of responsibilities. because i know that i can’t handle doing 8+ hours which is how much it’ll wind up being if they want me to open/close (taking into consideration traffic and people who just will not fucking leave), like i had to struggle to work 8 hours at a job i actually LIKED without thinking of working at fucking target or some shit for 8+ hours a day. i can’t do it. between the anxiety and the autism that sounds like something that will make me absolutely want to die and i know this because i tried that at party city for three days and came home in tears every single day and my feet hurt so bad i couldn’t move.

and my mom’s response to that was like. just deal with it! just push through it! you have to!

you’d think a therapist with a chronic illness would be more compassionate than that.

but my mom’s whole life is focused on work and i don’t even think it’s because she just loves her job that much. she just refuses to do anything outside of it. she has a dog and a cat (MY cat I adopted her she is under MY legal name and that dog is basically my dog, he was my baby) that i was under no circumstances allowed to take with me regardless of where i went or when, but that she does not...enjoy. at all. she is constantly bitching about the pets and she bought an automatic feeder and self-scooping litterbox and hired pet sitters not for the occasional trip out to her boyfriend’s but for like a regular thing because she is at home as little as possible. every single second that she can spend at work she will.

and she hated that i didn’t spend 6-8 hours at work (more counting traffic) and then want to spend all of my free time looking for a second or different job and cleaning the house and cooking all the meals and running all the errands and taking care of the pets. with no help.

and that’s part of what i mean about her working to get out of having to do other things. because she also works so much so that she can get out of eating. like. ever. her body image issues are so fucked up that she will eat one meal a day and be like “ugh i’m such a pig i’m so fat i should stop eating maybe then i’ll lose weight”. and then she’ll deny that she he has an unhealthy relationship to food and claim she just “doesn’t have time to eat” even though she apparently has time to bitch at me over facebook or henpeck her boyfriend and read 8 different versions of her horoscope in an hour + longer breaks

like i’m sorry but if i could eat in 30 minutes with my coworker calling me to panic on the other end bc everyone decides to come into the library at the same fucking time then i think maybe. just maybe. you can eat a goddamn granola bar in 2+ hours while sitting at your desk instead of saying “i should be writing notes” and not actually writing your fucking notes!

what really kinda. bothers me all about it. like in addition to all this super unhealthy stuff that makes her occupation as a therapist hypocritical as hell is how she criticizes me for doing the exact shit that she does.

by which i mean. holding other people to my standards.

i’ve worked a lot at not being judgmental of other people and challenging my own notions of what is right and acceptable when i find myself judging other people. it’s really hard. i think it’s connected a lot to being autistic and the kind of biases that we’re all brought up into and it’s why travelling and secondary education are really important, not even just because of learning aspect (although liberal arts forcing you to take classes outside of your comfort zone. i think helps a lot in this too) but because meeting people from all different kinds of backgrounds makes you look at things from different angles you wouldn’t have otherwise, because if you never leave you never broaden your horizons.

so when there are still standards that i hold people to it’s. i try to just hold people to “not being a total asshole to everyone around you” as a relatively basic standard that i don’t think should be controversial? but even when i voice that opinion - like, literally, i went to richmond cc with two friends and when i got back i was telling my mom about this guy who was very loudly, specifically so that i could hear his unsolicited opinion of my cosplay, talking about how bad/boring jojo was because he knew i was dressed as someone from jojo and he wanted me and everyone else around him to know his opinion of jojo, then went and started mocking his friend for wanting to buy a gba instead of a gameboy sp bc his friend and i both saw the mother 1+2 and mother 3 cartridges and was just being an asshole! again! and i was just complaining to her after the fact about this guy being a dick and my mom’s response, not even like an “i don’t get it but i’m sorry” first was just

“well maybe he’s autistic”

and! i’m sorry! but that! doesn’t fuckign fly with me! i said “so am i that doesn’t mean i go around being an asshole to everyone at con”

and she was like “well maybe he’s not as high-functioning as you you can’t hold everyone to your standards”

NO! NO MAYBE HE WAS BEING AN ASSHOLE BECAUSE HE’S CIS WHITE GUY AND THINKS EVERYONE NEEDS TO KNOW HIS OPINIONS! do you know how many fucking people go to con are autistic????? a whole shit ton of us! do you know how many poc, trans, nb, not-straight people loudly voice their opinions to make the people around them including their friends feel like shit? NONE OF THEM! NONE OF THEM! NONE OF THEM! ONLY THE CISHET WHITE GUYS WHO THINK THEY’RE TOO GOOD FOR COSPLAY FUCKING DO THAT!

and it’s so irritating! like i’m not allowed to talk about my autism EVER and even when my standards are REALLY FUCKIGN LOW i’m being too judgmental of others but she’s allowed to talk about how everyone who doesn’t work 40+ hours every week and starve themselves is fucking?? lazy????

unreal. un fuckign believable.

#nori talks #nori's adventures in moving out

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cinderstar · 6 years ago

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Pumpkinpelt and Fang > Flicker and Fang

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

okay I can’t tell if this ask is about friendship or relationships? and either way i kinda stand mixed on this point...

pumpkinpelt is honestly a cat fang needs in her life. she has a lot of trauma she can’t digest and still has an incredibly strong and reckless propensity to hurl herself into endangering situations/things that hurt her. pumpkinpelt is willing to show her that she needn’t figure this out alone, and i think it’s sweet, friendship OR relationship wise. HOWEVER, fang is an incredibly insecure and volatile cat, and will be for a while, and unfortunately the only way to work through that is by herself with herself. pumpkinpelt also hasn’t yet heard of her past, or what makes her who she is, and what she’s willing to do based on how she’s been raised and who she was before all of this. i’m not sure how he’ll take it, and fang isn’t ready to divulge that to anyone. on the other hand...

flicker has his own things to work through. a lot of the fang and flicker issues come from fang and flicker’s current (strained) companionship, how they’ve acted in the past, the miscommunication: all of it. corbett and i set out with these two knowing writing them wouldn’t be so easy, especially when they’re together. he needs to work through things, and she needs to work through things, and these things involve each other in some ways, and don’t in others. part of both of their recoveries will be finding friends outside of each other and expanding past their old life, but also coming together to truly get to the root of some of the scarier parts of the past and speak to the other truthfully. they’re not so much co-dependent as they are twisted together in backstory and personality, and they both have a lot to go through right now to discover themselves. that said, flicker is a cat fang needs too, in a very different way. he serves to almost... balance pumpkinpelt, in a weird way, where pumpkinpelt helps her unlearn some of her toughness and flicker helps her face those unresolved past issues.

I think right now, right directly now and in terms of upcoming events involving fogclan, she’ll need pumpkinpelt. however, in the future, when things become more clear about herself and her past, she’ll need a more familiar face. she needs... both of them, really, in her life, and this is only speaking platonically, because despite fang secretly maybe being a romantic at heart, she’s nowhere near ready for any sort of relationship. this become very long huh

anyways! fang/flicker/pumpkinpelt > fang/flicker or fang/pumpkinpelt!

@corbett3c @hollyfurs

#anon #fang

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polyrolemodels · 6 years ago

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Mx Nillin

1. How long have you been polyamorous or been practicing polyamory?

Personally? Less than 5 years. I’ve been non-monogamous with my nesting partner, Falon, for about 4 years now, but neither of us explicitly identified as polyamorous until we started seeing our best friend Kate about a year ago.

2. What does your relationship dynamic look like?

Falon and I are legally married and live together in a tiny apartment with a cat and two guinea pigs. We’re in a romantic, sexual, and emotional relationship with our best friend, Kate, who lives on her own a short drive across town.

Kate doesn’t want to ever get married or live with anybody else. She really values having her own place to herself and so do we, so, it just works out for everybody really well! We all see each other multiple times a week, binge watching Netflix shows, playing nerdy tabletop games, going on date nights, checking out local events, or trying out threesome positions for ourselves and then blogging about them [http://mxnillin.com/will-it-threesome-double-dip/] LOL

Though Fal, Kate, and I are in a closed polyamorous triad together, we’re all still non-monogamous to a degree. Each of us has a friend or two we sometimes share nudes and flirt with outside of our relationship, but the three of us are all romantically committed to each other.

3. What aspect of polyamory do you excel at?

Ugh, honestly, I wouldn’t say that I “excel” at anything so much as I’m just doing the best I can to look after my own health and wellness while also striving to be the best partner I can be to Kate and Falon.

I used to be REALLY bad at the whole self-care thing and it lead to a lot of fear, anxiety, insecurities, and jealousy in my past relationships. I almost exclusively relied on those who I was intimate with to just comfort me until I felt better. In some cases, I put the entire onus of my mental and emotional health onto my past partners. Unsurprisingly, that created some incredibly fucking unhealthy behaviors as I sought out a pretty constant supply of comfort, validation, and assurance from them in order for me to feel happy and secure in those relationships.

That’s not so much an issue for me anymore, and I’m really proud of that because it has taken a lot of hard work to unlearn those toxic behaviors, develop healthier personal habits, and overall better communicate with the people who I love. I’m also much more on top of taking my anti-depressant pills, and going in to see my counsellor, when necessary.

That’s not to say I’m some stoic, chill master of my emotions or anything. Insecurities still crop up, jealousy sometimes rears its head, and on occasion a little validation is appreciated, but I think all of that is pretty natural

4. What aspect of polyamory do you struggle with?

The stigma. Holy shit, the stigma

I‘ve never loved two people at the same time, and in the same ways, before. I’ve never been committed to two partners at once before. Like, it’s no exaggeration when I say that my relationship with Falon and Kate has shattered my entire perspective of life, love, family, the institution of marriage, identity, politics, and so much more.

And all for the better, I might add!

But polyamory isn’t something you see reflected back at you by society, especially not in any sort of positive, judgement-free way. It’s not a relationship structure that’s even sorta socially, politically, governmentally, or economically accepted, let alone widely acknowledged, talked about, written about, ore seen out in public. And it sure as shit isn’t represented in a lot in literature, or art, or media of any kind… at least not in ways that don’t tend to be fetishizing or tragic.

I mean, when’s the last time you’ve seen any sort of show about an everyday non-binary queer navigating life with their poly family? Never? Yeah, me neither.

All of this has led to us having to pretty regularly endure super shitty, awkward situations of us having to be in the closet depending on who we’re interacting with at any given time. Trying to remember who you’re out to, and who is SAFE to be out to, is exhausting and stressful for us all.

And that fucking blows. Yet it’s oftentimes necessary for all our safety.

5. How do you address and/or overcome those struggles?

I talk about it with my partners. A lot. We check in with each other pretty often and we don’t let difficult discussions go undiscussed for long.

And I write about it too! Maybe too much at times haha.

I find that by putting myself out there, speaking up about my experiences and relationships, it has helped me empower others in their poly relationships while offering me the opportunity to learn from them as well. Especially other sex bloggers, writers, and workers.

I’ve also surrounded myself with a pretty amazing little family of queer and trans folks who have been wonderful supports in my life.

6. In terms of risk-aware/safer sex, what do you and your partners do to protect one another?

Clear, concise, honest communication has been key. Fal, Kate, and I are all aware of each other’s past partners and we’ve all tested ourselves for STI’s. Currently, we’re all fluid-bonded together, so, condom usage isn’t really there like it used to be. However, we still make sure to boil any sex toys that are shared (between uses), keep our nails trimmed, use lube as needed, and generally make sure that we’re listening to and respecting each other’s boundaries.

7. What is the worst mistake you've ever made in your polyamorous history and how did you rebound from that?

Not sure if this is really a polyamory mistake so much as it is a boundaries issue. A couple years ago, shortly after Falon and I were married, I had JUST started blogging about how non-monogamy worked for us when we became good friends with somebody we had met through our local LGBTQ+ community. Early on in the friendship, the three of us mutually masturbated together, but we were very explicit in expressing that we were not looking for a relationship of any kind and that the three-way ‘bating was just for fun and probably not a regular thing.

End of story, right?

Not so much. While Fal and I felt that we were very clear, and that our friend had understood, he instead doubled down. Over the months that followed, he ended up inserting himself into our relationship in a lot of invasive ways that on their own looked innocent enough, but when considered all at once were actually quite manipulative. Then one day he tries to show up at our house to talk with Falon, and when they said they weren’t feeling comfortable taking right now (he was being very pushy) he just forced the conversation anyway by professing his love to them. Oh, and me too, but only as an afterthought when Falon made it clear they were NOT interested.

Things went downhill from there really fast as we started to realize the real degree of his intrusiveness, complete with finding out he had been self-sabotaging opportunities for himself because he had this thought in his head that we’d all live up living together.

Anyway, it’s a long story overall but Fal and I learned a lot about what we were and weren’t comfortable with and set even cleared boundaries with others. That whole thing was bad enough that it almost turned us off from non-monogamy and polyamory altogether though. Luckily, we worked through it because several months after that gong show things started up with Kate, which has been amazing!

8. What self-identities are important to you? How do you feel like polyamory intersects with or affects those identities?

I am a fat, queer, non-binary, loud, foul-mouthed sex blogger with hairy tits, a girl cock, and a full-on fetish for actively subverting social roles and expectations… so of course I’m also polyamorous haha. Seriously though, over the last several years I’ve radically transformed myself as a person, to better reflect who I’ve always been but didn’t feel safe or confident being until my late twenties. I had to, because if I didn’t I was on the fast track to self-destruction [but that’s another story entirely].

Now, for the first time ever, I feel empowered to live my life as my authentic self and it turns out that a big part of that has included being polyamorous. Monogamy, at least in how it exists in our culture, has always felt incredibly restrictive, uncomfortable, and toxic to me personally; whereas falling in love with Falon and Kate, opening myself up to them both and forming our queer little polycule, has felt like the most natural thing in the world to me since I came out as queer and trans.

(Bonus: Do you have any groups, projects, websites, blogs, etc. that you are involved with that you would like to promote?)

You can find the vast majority of my work on my blog at www.mxnillin.com. One of the most popular features there is "Mx Nillin Fucks", a blog post series in which I stick my girl cock in a wide variety of inanimate objects, mostly foods so far, as makeshift masturbation sleeves and write about how good or bad it is. This year is themed "Back to Basics" and has focused on classic masturbation items (banana peels, socks, DIY penetrables, melons, etc.). Outside of this you can also find me regularly participating in #SexEdPornReviews tweets for The Crash Pad Series.

---

Support Inclusive Polyamorous Representation at https://www.patreon.com/PolyRoleModels

#polyamory #nonmonogamy #fat #queer #nonbinary #bloggers

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bevetm-blog · 7 years ago

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[Fic] No Words

Sooooo I’m new to the ship and I wrote a little thing to ease myself into it. SOMEONE MAKE FRIENDS WITH ME PLEASE. I’m cute and I’m only a little ways above begging.

Established relationship. Absent Billy. Tired, pining Steve. Dustin making things better. And worse. At the same time. ~1200w

Read on AO3 or down below!

“Sure thing, Mrs. Henderson. Yeah, no - no, it’s not a problem. I’ll be there. Not at all. Yeah - yeah, you too. Bye.”

It’s already dark when Steve pulls up to the Byers home to pick up Dustin. Though he’s happy to do Mrs Henderson this favor whenever she’s tending to the new Henderson cat’s periodic freakouts (especially because Steve knows why the cat has freakouts), he wishes he could have gone straight home today. It’s been a long shift and he’s tired and irritable, not least because Billy’s been in California for four days now, sorting out whatever shit he didn’t want Steve along for, didn’t even want to talk to Steve about, after attending an old friend’s funeral. It’s fine. He’s fine. He’ll call again tonight and he’ll be fine, his laugh a little shaky and his silences a little long but he’s fine. He’ll be home soon.

Steve takes a deep breath and sighs it back out. The car is already cooling down as he finally gets out and jogs into the house, letting himself in right after knocking and almost running straight into Joyce.

It’s a full house. From the number of voices shrieking and laughing behind Will’s half-open bedroom door, it sounds like the party’s all there. As Steve stands in the kitchen declining all offers of drinks, snacks, and dinner from a slightly harangued-looking Joyce, Will ambles in and deposits an armful of empty soda cans in the trash.

“Hi, Steve,” Will says, half-lifting a hand in a little wave. “I’ll tell Dustin you’re here.”

“Hey, yeah, thanks. How’s it going?”

Will shrugs, looks away. “You know. Pretty good. Did you talk to Billy? Since he left, I mean?”

Of course he knows. Everyone always knows. Steve scrubs at his hair. ”Yeah - yeah, he calls. He says hi to everyone.” Billy hadn’t.

Will nods seriously. He looks tired, too, but - better. Healthy tired, Steve thinks.

“Cool. El kept talking about him the other day but, uh, she said he’s okay. You know, mostly. I guess you probably know. Uh. Anyway - I’ll go get Dustin.”

“Thanks, kid.”

Steve rubs his eyes. Joyce has returned to her slightly frenzied dinner prep, and Steve wonders absently how many of the kids are staying. He decides to leave her to it, heading back into the living room where Nancy is huddling on the sofa with Jonathan. She smiles warmly when he walks in.

“Joyce dragged you into that kitchen so fast I couldn’t even say hi. How are you holding up? Are you staying for dinner?”

“I’m - yeah, no, I’m headed straight back. Dustin’s mom wants him home.”

The “and I want this day to be over” remains unspoken, but Nancy pulls a sympathetic face anyway. “How’s Billy?”

“He’s, he’s okay. You know. Dealing with shit. He calls every night. I mean, he doesn’t tell me much. But he calls.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Yeah, well.”

Steve can almost feel the energy in the room shift as Dustin bounces in. Probably polished off half of that soda all by himself.

“Steve, my bude!”

Steve frowns. “Yeah, already lost. Brother dude?”

“Uh, no, that would obviously be brude. My best dude! Which is you. Also obviously.”

“Yeah, real obvious,” Steve mutters. Dustin has, for inscrutable Dustin reasons, decided that the new thing to do is mash words together. He doesn’t seem to intend it to be annoying - probably thinks it’s cool. But it’s definitely annoying. Steve has no idea what’s going on most of the time.

“Nanceathan! What’s up?” Dustin grins.

“Nanceathan?” It’s hard to tell whether Jonathan and Nancy, responding in perfect unison, are more amused or more exasperated.

Steve snorts. “Nanceathan - if they can’t do it, no one can.” He throws up half-hearted jazz hands to go with the lame joke. “Right, dipshit, let’s go. It’s late.”

“Shit, wait, I forgot my plards in the lair.” With that, Dustin sprints off.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Steve says to the air. “And lair? Lounge... chair? Wait. Actual lair. God, this shit messes with my head.”

“So plards is fine?”

Steve rolls his eyes as he turns to Jonathan. “Figured that one out two days ago. Shit, how are you guys? Pretend I asked when I came in.”

Jonathan smiles. “Don’t worry about it. We’re good. Thinking of catching a movie tomorrow night, if you want to come?”

Steve does not want to do anything. If nothing else, Dustin’s timing is impeccable: he jogs back into the room just as Steve opens his mouth and realizes he’s really about to start talking without a decent excuse ready.

“Sorry, my liege,” says Dustin, stuffing some cards into his pocket. “By the way, man, how’s Killy?”

“Jesus, Dustin -”

Dustin throws his hands up, alarmed. “Just King Billy, dude. Chill. I maybe didn’t think that through.”

“You’re gonna want to unlearn that one before he gets back,” Steve says, still incredulous.

Dustin nods slowly. “Yep. Yes. I will... do that.” He brightens. “So, only a couple more days right? Till, uh, Billy comes back I mean.” He waits a beat. “To the Stansion.”

Steve sighs, gestures at Dustin to elaborate. “The...”

“The Stilly mansion. Stilly, as in -”

“Okay, Stilly? Dustin? Really? That’s terrible.”

“It’s terrible that you can’t appreciate linguenius.”

Steve just stares at him blankly.

“Harringrove,” Nancy offers suddenly, looking up at them from the sofa. She’s wearing that quietly pleased look that still makes Steve’s chest feel warm and full to bursting. It takes him a second, but then he feels a small grin pull at his mouth. “Wow, Nance. Nice. That actually sounds like something.”

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like something overpriced that moms buy.”

“No way, man. It sounds nice. I like it.”

“Dude, Steve, whatever. You guys aren’t smooth enough to be called Harringrove. You’re Stilly. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Guys,” comes Jonathan’s voice from next to Nancy. He’s definitely trying not to laugh, and Steve eyes him warily. “Guys. Listen. It’s Beve. They’re Beve.”

“Oh my God.” Dustin’s hands fly into his hair. “Beve!”

Steve watches, resigned, as laughter overtakes the little shit until he collapses onto the floor, where he continues to gasp for breath and occasionally utter high-pitched, tearful little “Beeeve!”s.

Steve waits for him to calm down. It’s not even that funny. Kids are ridiculous and this is ridiculous. As Dustin regains his breath and - somewhat - his composure, Steve catches his eye just as inspiration evidently strikes. Dustin opens his mouth and Steve groans.

“Beve it or leave it. Beve or grieve. Too Beve to believe. You guys - you guys are my pet Beve. Beve achieved!”

“Dustin,” says Steve. He’s so tired. This isn’t funny. Jonathan and Nancy are both cackling. Steve definitely isn’t smiling. He drops his head into his hands, lest that little dipshit see him—okay, smiling, and take it as his cue to continue. “None of that makes any sense.”

“No reprieve from the Beve!”

“Oohh my God. Jesus. Okay, that’s it. We are leaving, and you are never using words again."

Steve is still grinning when he gets home. To the Stansion.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fic #harringrove fic #harringrove fanfiction #fanfiction #womp womp #stilly #beve #might as well tag em #ao3

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zorilleerrant · 4 years ago

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2017

January

an amorphous thing A poem about misogyny, in all its forms. I never quite got the ending to do what I wanted, but overall I think it’s strong.

Fandom: Cho Chang bio I don’t know if you want to call this a ficlet or what? I think I’m going to expand it or something. Just a musing on why she’s called Cho Chang.

poem This is sort of a poem and sort of a joke because fuck the environment I guess; it was topical at the time I think.

musing on seasonal affective disorder An addition to something I really liked that someone else wrote, because I was having feelings about SAD. The initial story is wlw; my addition is nblw even though I was trying to match the tone and style of the original.

there is a demon A poem about femininity, bisexuality, and mental illness. Our narrator is, I think, a makeup youtuber? Or something like that. This was written in response to people saying just awful things about makeup hobbyists.

HP fic: Courage Hermione deals with racism. I always headcanoned Hermione as middle eastern, so I wanted to add something with that because I don’t see it a lot even when people intentionally make her nonwhite.

American Gods/Sookie Stackhouse fic: Small Town Mentality A little character study about Shadow interacting with Sookie. This was when I was rereading American Gods, and I was like. You know, these books have similar vibes and similar canons. Timeline wise it’s set about halfway through American Gods and a few years before the first Sookie book. (The title is about not-my-business isolationism, not racial violence.)

The Maze Runner book review Musing on the worldbuilding problems in the book and how writers can and should do better than that.

February

Shadowhunters fic: Parabatai A lot of people were invested in the part where Jace could tell that Alec boned. Just my take on the thing. There’s sex in this one. Probably my most popular fic to date.

March

untitled Beauty and the Beast fic From the perspective of LeFou waxing poetic about Gaston.

Shadowhunters fic: Love Will Tear Us Apart Magnus blames himself about Raphael drinking Izzy’s blood. So tbh I don’t actually remember this fic and I don’t think anyone liked it? I will have to read it over at some point and see what it is.

Shadowhunters fic: A Fish Without a Bicycle This is a companion piece to Parabatai; going along with the Parabatai bond being a sort of metaphor for an erotic relationship, it posits Izzy as aspec and explores that a little.

Shadowhunters fic: Answers Another companion piece. Just a lot about Alec exploring his sexuality and trying to figure stuff out.

Shadowhunters fic: Forever Home Magnus being A Dad, to cats and other magical creatures.

April

queer is not a slur Just a poem bitching at people about the ‘omg q slur’ nonsense.

untitled six word story look it’s only six words either read it or don’t. (it’s not very good.)

the two genders A poem about how stupid gender essentialism is, and how people apply it to literal newborn babies.

untitled poem ???

May

Static Shock fic: No Flams Prepz Hotstreak talks to a (presumably court mandated) therapist.

Static Shock fic: Worry Static’s dad worries about the kids in his life.

Static Shock fic: Everybody Makes Mistakes Character study on Virgil, pilot centric. (Contains guns.)

mall gothic Yes, that’s a pun. No, I don’t know what the point of this was either.

let me tell you something about not being confident in your writing A poem about writing and your feelings about what you’ve written. It’s supposed to be inspirational probably.

ROY G. BIV A poem about what does and does not exist. Implicitly about LGBT+ gatekeeping but there’s nothing direct in it. I like this one a lot.

June

flag a poem on why I didn’t like the Philly pride flag back when everyone was gushing about how pure and perfect it was.

pride a poem that I think was mostly bitching about people being like ‘don’t do xyz you’re ruining pride!’ or like gatekeeping or whatever. not sure if it stands up without context

Ocean Short story about a nonbinary mage questing after a fantasy sword. Written on the assumption this is a typical high fantasy universe so no there are no proper safety protocols or historical preservation procedures. Mildly comedic.

poetry isn’t real just a micropoem about poetry, the most common topic for poetry

I have a poem about gatekeeping. someone probably told me I wasn’t allowed to use the word queer (again) or like accused me of not understanding queer history? I don’t know it happens. this poem is probably triggering if you’ve got issues with violence generally or queerphobic violence in specific

queer is another poem about gatekeeping. prose poem. I don’t know man people keep going on about bullshit

Static Shock fanfic: Protest Static meets Magneto. The timeline on this is obviously confusing af, but like, imagine it’s during the corresponding irl point of any of the major ups of BLM protests, within Static’s timeline somewhere after he’s got the hang of heroing but before he’s really used to it, and in Magneto’s timeline, somewhere during the initial rise of the Brotherhood. This was just an idea that got stuck in my head and that’s about it.

Static Shock fanfic: Attraction Virgil/Richie. Just an excuse to write puns.

Static Shock fanfic: Marathon Static & Rubberband Man. Fluff

Static Shock fanfic: Frieda Character study. Also ruminating on bullying and sexual harassment. (It’s about the gun violence episode, if that gets to you.)

Static Shock fanfic: Educational Overnight Crossover with Batman. Mostly animated Batman continuity (although largely backfilled from Batman Beyond), but I don’t think it super matters to the text of the thing. Static pretends to be Batman and has to face off against the Riddler. Also featuring Richie in hot pants (as Robin).

July

okay. so. musing about writer’s block, self-esteem/mental illness, and the thought processes that go into writing. maybe a prose poem? I don’t know what you would call this particular form

growing up depression poetry

August

a few points bullet list formatted poem about writing and writing advice

Welcome to Fae Mart humorous story about retail in Faerie

September

Let’s Talk About Slurs it’s a poem about people who smugly claim they’d never say a slur

on good and evil a prose poem or something. about how bigotry is learned (and, sort of, unlearned) and why attitudes about it make no sense

Queer as Folk fanfic: Not Always in the Same Way Hunter being bi

November

just the same prose poem about intersectionality and bigotry and how people always conflate everything into neat little soundbites. there’s a bit about reylo at the end there, too, because I kept seeing shit about it at the time, so watch out if that’s a thing for you

December

tw villanelle yeah I only write villanelles what about it? anyway this one has a bunch of violent rhetoric and bad opinions; it’s from the perspective of antis. it’s not very good but the rhymes sound nice

#my writing

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everly-kindred · 5 years ago

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Eve’s Diary - Entry #60

Date: 15th of April, 2027

Dear Diary,

It’s been a pretty busy and strange week or so, with Easter and a few other happenings. There’s been like… I mean, the normal shenanigans, but also like, a lot of weird stuff with the frogs? Anyways… I suppose I should start explaining.

Easter morning, I woke up to a basket full of homemade candies from Marigold. There was a lot of little chocolates and hard candies, but I think the coolest thing was this big hollow egg she’d made, and inside was this thing that was like a pygmy puff with bunny ears, but it was made of fairy floss and chocolate.

I went to the Easter Feast, and sat with Tal and Peach and Marigold and this boy named Tom. Tom ended up flinging strawberries at Tal while I was trying to eat my crepes, and then said it was our fault cause we didn’t move or something, so I got annoyed and decided to go play in the rain. I also saw that Nate was wearing a full rabbit onesie, and everyone was acting like it was lame, but I thought it was brilliant so I said that as loud as I could while I was leaving.

They also announced a castle wide egg hunt, so I went around to try to find all of the eggs I could, which is always a lot of fun. It’s hard not to get lost, but I think at this point, I know my way around the castle well enough. It was fun because I had to get a basket from outside the great hall, and when I did, I guess they were enchanted to make me sprout a rabbit nose and bunny ears. But it went away once I found all nine of the eggs. Which actually made me kinda sad!

In Hufflepuff Hangout, we had an egg war in the long gallery. It was a lot of fun, and I tried to hide on these spiral stairs to keep away from everyone, but Quinn spotted me. I was using Wingardium Leviosa to throw the eggs, and I did pretty good! I think someone might’ve started using some other spells though, because some girls started dancing like they had a dancing jinx, and Marigold was laughing like someone invisible was tickling her.

While I was looking for eggs later on, I actually ended up finding a sign about one of Professor Dracheblume and Eastwood’s creatures. I think it’s… an ostritch or an emu? I can’t tell. But anyway, apparently it’s name is Dr. Strange and it’s loose in the castle? And we’re not supposed to approach it, so I guess it’s dangerous.

Speaking of dangerous things we’re not supposed to seek out, they’ve been making announcements about some… artifact that’s been loose in the castle, and if you find it, you’re supposed to report it to a professor because apparently it can kill you? So the ministry has been in the castle trying to find it. I hope I don’t run into it… But I’m also incredibly curious.

As far as classes go, I went to dueling club and watched Persephone vomit slugs on Tom by accident (he wasn’t who she was dueling but oh well) and I ended up taking pity on Tom and using wingardium leviosa from up where I was to remove them because he was absolutely losing his gobstones. I also saw Bonnie turn a boy into a frog (which was kind of funny given all the frogs that are everywhere and all this talk of frog princes and… something else I’ll tell you about in a second) and then we also discussed fruit names because of Peach. I said I liked the name Cherry. I also kind of like the name Apple? But as a surname, not a first name. Like Fiona Apple. Anyways! I dueled Arthur but I was so distracted and sleepy by the time it was my turn that I lost. He used the petrifying spell on me.

In herbology, we learned about something called Preacher’s Porridge. When the professor asked us if we knew what it was, Peach thought of it more literally I guess and said it was porridge that a preacher has… The whole class laughed and the teacher even told her that she should start taking special herbology lessons with her. I had thought it was funny at first, but now I feel bad about it because she seemed really embarrassed. We also learned about sopophorous pods, and I also found out when talking to Talula, Casey, Peach and Aloy in the greenhouses that Casey is going to Egypt on holiday this summer! Which I think is really cool. I hope he takes pictures.

Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Vikander was odd this week. He had us come in comfortable clothes and bring our cats if we had one. When we came in the room, he’d filled it with pillows and blankets and snacks and stuff. It was basically a sort of guided meditation that he used to sort of help us think about conquering and overcoming our fear. Which, if I think about it, a skeleton is a silly thing, and I don’t know why it terrifies me so other than the fact that my dad used to try to spook me with one. Making it chase me, hiding it around my room, putting my clothes on it. So it’s made me think that maybe some irrational fears are learned? And we can unlearn them!

In Astronomy we met on the pitch so that Professor Priaulx could help us understand the distances between the planets and such. I actually earled 15 points for Hufflepuff in that class! 5 of that was because I had made the professor laugh when she asked why we weren’t including pluto. I had guessed it was because we ran out of room on the pitch - and had also quoted that one Disney movie. “Ohana means family, and family means no one gets left behind.” So yeah, I’m pretty proud of that, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her laugh before! I also shared my planet song that my mum had taught me with the class. It goes: Mercury and Venus, Earth and Mars. Flying in an orbit, around the star! (The original lyric was stars but Priaulx corrected it and say they only orbit around the sun, so… One star) Jupiter and Saturn, what a view. Uranus, and Neptune, Pluto too!

In transfigurations, first and second years practiced orchideous while the older years dueled. So we were all up on the second floor of the dueling room, and I was making it rain cherry blossom petals on the students down below. I think it’s the easiest time I’ve ever had with a spell, actually! So it’s definitely a massive step up from the struggles I was having last time we practiced.

Aside from all of that, yesterday morning I think it was? There was this giant frog croak sound and it literally shook my bed and the walls and startled me out of my sleep! Which was funny because I was having a dream about frogs anyways. But yeah, I think I’ll probably investigate that eventually. No one has said anything about it, really.

I suppose that’s all for now. I think I’m going to go get lunch.

Much love, Everly

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#hufflepuff #magic #harry potter #diary #second life #secondlife

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