#the only other person I could talk to is my dad’s SIL but she’s a very blunt person who isn’t too good at comforting

[malachitezmeyka]

Point: I want to draw

Obstacles: None

Why I’m not currently drawing: My own self hatred over the fact my art skill isn’t anywhere near to the level I want it to be at

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - III

Description: As a hard working novelist and single dad hasn't Bill had much time for dating but gets an unorthodox chance to meet women when his friend persuades him to be a part of a dating TV show.

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Bill's Guests:

Maria: Writer, 38.

Violet: Entrepreneur, 22.

Camila: Engineer, 31.

Victoria: Shop assistant, 34.

Sandra: Fashion designer, 36.

Julie: Model, 25. (Left in episode 2)

Esmeralda: Model, 27.

Rose: Personal trainer, 22.

Odette: Pediatrician, 33.

Tiffany: Actress, 30.

Sienna: Painter, 28.

Brigitte: Chef, 29.

×

It was in the guest house that the drama had settled. The girls living in the mansion didn't relax as much as the others because Bill could suddenly be next to them, but the guest house he hadn't visited. There lived Esmeralda, Odette, Maria, Sandra, Violet, and Brigitte. Earlier also, Julie lived there. The fight between her and Esmeralda wasn't the only tension, though. An irritation hung over the house all the time.

Odette and Brigitte had found a sort of friendship, or at least as close as a friendship you can have when you want the same man. They prepared for the day together in their room when they heard loud voices.

“Don't be so fucking childish!” said Sandra loudly.

“I'm not childish! That was my cucumber!” Answered Violet more upset than angry.

“It's a cucumber! Let it go! And if I'm correct, it isn't even you who paid for it!”

"No, but I ordered it!”

Brigitte looked amused at Odette while braiding her hair, and they both smirked curiously. Sandra had said before that Violet was childish, and they had a feeling she was a bit provoked that 22 year-olds were a part of the show.

“Fine! Go and tell Bill I ate your cucumber then! How do you think he will react to that? It's just childish behavior, and he would feel the same!”

Violet didn't say anything, and the other girls looked at each other with big eyes.

In the kitchen, Violet just stormed out while Sandra and Maria were still there. Sandra rolled her eyes towards Maria, but she looked down in her coffee mug.

“Yesterday she complained that Esmeralda had used lavender shower cream because she can't stand it, like she's the princess here,” said Sandra and shook her head. “And she threatened to tell the TV team about Brigitte,” under the table she made a motion with two fingers. “A bit too often. Okay, we hear her sometimes, but come on, we're all girls!”

Maria nodded a little and took a sip of her coffee.

“She told me she does it because of her cramps, she has big problems with her period, and so on,” explained Maria lowly.

“See! There is even an explanation to it!”

In Odette and Brigitte's bedroom, Brigitte tried to hear what Sandra and Maria were discussing; she had heard her name but nothing more than that.

“Are they talking about me now?”

Odette shrugged her shoulders, pretending she hadn't heard anything.

“Will they bitch about everyone?”

“They seem like the type... But it's nothing to care about. They're just bitter or something.”

×××

Bill would never confess how many situps and pushups he had done in a row. He wanted to seem like he was chill with his training and body, but in reality he could feel a bit of panic for the day.

They were at a fitness resort close by, and he would be with all girls that day at a pool party, and he knew both the women and the viewers would look at his body. He didn't feel self-conscious but wanted to look his best, especially when he knew how he could look if he wanted to. He pulled on the black pair of swimming shorts in a shorter style and looked at himself in the mirror in the locker room. He looked good. Yes, he looked good. He sighed because he knew they had planned it so he would come last and more or less make an entrance in front of the girls. It was silly.

The girls did wait for him by the pool, all of them wearing their nicest swimwear. A few of them covered themselves with a sarong, but most of them seemed comfortable being so naked on TV; some acted more comfortable than they were. All of them waited on Bill with excitement, and several of them already felt Bill was the one they knew best, and because of that, their “safe person.”

Bill walked out to the pool, trying to look relaxed and not like he was thinking about the girls' opinions, but they just looked at him admiringly. The smooth, tanned skin, the height, the broad shoulders. The abs. Odette and Brigitte look at each other with a smirk. So did Victoria and Rose. There wasn't anyone that didn't like what they were seeing.

“Hello, my ladies,” he said, approaching the sun chair where a letter was lying. He was informed by Herman he would get one, but not what would be written in it.

“Hey, Bill!” said the girls almost as if in a chorus, and it made Bill smirk, crooked. They were really there just for him.

He took the letter and sat down in the chair. He was so focused and curious about the letter he didn't notice that the girls still looked at his body a bit too intensely, but they put on their most innocent faces when Bill looked up from the letter to say with his eyes he would read out loud.

“Today you have the whole day to get to know each other better. The whole resort is open to only you, and you can use it however you want. Girls, try to take your chance to be with Bill because, tonight, back at home, two of you need to leave.”

Bill looked up at the girls. His expression was similar to theirs, stressed and uncomfortable. Suddenly the energy wasn't as relaxed and sunny.

“Okay… Ehm… Hm…” Bill said, and in his deep thoughts, he moved to the pool and slipped down the edge to the cold water. There were just four girls in the pool, Maria, Odette, Brigitte, and Sienna, even though the pool was big.

“That was a surprise…” he said to Odette and Brigitte, who were the closest to him.

“Yeah, I had some naive thought we would just be here and chill,” said Brigitte and looked at him with big blue eyes. Her hair was gathered in a long, thick braid over her shoulder. Bill nodded in agreement.

“Feels like you and I haven't even had time to say hello yet,” he said with an awkward laugh. Brigitte laughed too, and it looked like she was on her way to say something before Odette interrupted her.

“We haven't had much time together either,” she said, smiling at Bill. He agreed but silently thought he hadn't had much time with the other ones either, just Rose.

“Have you visited this place before?” asked Brigitte and moved so that she was on the other side of Bill instead of having Odette between them.

“Yeah, they have a good brunch, and my oldest thinks it's fun to play some tennis... You were a chef, right?”

“Yeah, and I promise, my brunch is better,” she said cheekily and made Bill chuckle.

“Yeah, any specialities?”

“I would say my green crepes, but crepes, that's like pancakes for Swedes, right?”

“Yeah, it is. So I rarely make American pancakes; they grow in your mouth after a while.”

Brigitte faked offense, and Bill laughed at her with his hands up.

“Sorry! But you also do crepes!”

Brigitte giggled and nodded.

“Maybe there is some truth to it, and my mom is French…”

Odette looked at them talking and how big Brigitte made Bill smile, so when there were a few seconds of silence, she laid her hand on Bill's elbow.

“Can't we just take a little walk?”

Bill looked away from Brigitte to Odette and smiled.

“Sure, I can show you the resort.”

Brigitte gave her friend a look, it wasn't a friendly one.

The resort was bigger than Odette had thought, and it had several tennis courts, more pools, well arranged gardens, and an outdoor spa. They stopped by the tennis court, where Odette pulled Bill down for a seat on a bench. They had talked softly about a lot of things, and it flowed on well. She was calm and warm and made him relax. It was simple. They got 30 minutes for themselves before...

“Bill? Do you want to play?” It was Tiffany, dressed in a red bikini top and white denim shorts. She pointed towards the tennis court. Bill gave Odette an apologetic smile, who looked disappointed at both Bill and Tiffany.

“Sure!”

He guessed the day would be like that, being pulled away from one woman by another. It was a luxury, but he was afraid it would mean he would never be able to talk with them deeply.

He played a friendly match of tennis with Tiffany as he would with his oldest daughter. He noticed she was a beginner and didn't want to startle her with a hard ball in the right corner. He himself wasn't such an experienced tennis player either, but he learned fast, so when his daughter started to play, he got the hang of it. He also had read about it online to get better; he didn't do anything half-ass.

Tiffany giggled when they took a break and fixed her wild curls.

“I think you're holding back!”

Bill smirked and leaned against the judge’s chair.

“Of course not!”

Tiffany smiled, amused, in a pointed way. Bill licked his lips and shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe a little.”

“I knew it! But I guess that's gentlemanly of you.”

“I try!” Bill stretched his back so it cracked. Tiffany stood and looked at him a while, then she softly took his hand and pulled him to the bench he had been sitting on with Odette earlier.

“You know… I had a boyfriend, Haadi, who died of cancer a few years ago.”

Bill looked at her first but then looked away uncomfortably. He knew where this would lead. He met Herman's eyes far away, and he wondered if he was hiding back there because he had planned this. Americans always liked a sad story.

“I'm sorry…” he said and gave Tiffany a fast look.

“It was five years ago, so I guess it must have been the same year your-”

Bill cleared his throat and stood up. “I'm sorry, Tiffany, but I really don't want to talk about that here and now. And I think lunch is soon.” He looked towards the restaurant just to escape her stare. Tiffany looked at him with panic.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry Bill…”

He smiled strained but didn't look at her.

×××

Kate was a sensitive topic for Bill, not because he hadn't worked through it, but more so because cancer was a subject always making him uncomfortable because people believed he would be an expert on the subject or people began to ask about his life currently with curiosity and intrusively trying to find out how his girls had taken her death.

They walked back to the restaurant where they had started to serve lunch, and Bill sat down on his place, the edge of the table. Clearly he had made Tiffany uncomfortable because she walked up to Sienna instead of staying by his side.

He looked around at the girls when he had a few minutes to just think. He didn't even want to confess it to himself, but he looked at their bodies while they were so naked. It was the ones who he had expected that awakened lust in him. He licked his lips and tried to stop staring at the girls.

He hadn't had sex for six months. The last few years had he just succeeded in having a few one night stands, and he had had one woman who he could call if he had wanted to, but she gave up on him quickly because he never had time. Arranging a babysitter to get laid wasn't anything he could do with a good conscience.

Could he let someone stay because they were hot? Because he wanted to lay on top of them?

He could. He looked at soft thighs and a curved, tanned back. He could give one more chance. It wasn't like anyone needed to know what the reason was.

“You like to cook too?” Asked Brigitte, who had sat down next to him. It took some seconds for Bill to hear what she had actually said and force himself to look at her.

“Ehm, yeah. Yeah, I love it,” said he with a smile. “But I'm probably not as good as you.”

“I think we're good at different things.”

“Yeah? What's your thing?” Bill shoved a tomato in his mouth.

“Meat and sauces, I think. I work at a meat based restaurant.”

“Really? I would have said I'm best at meat too, but I think you're better than me at that.”

Brigitte giggled a little and gave him a teasing smile. Bill smirked back; he liked that she didn't protest and that she more or less confessed she was better than him. Too many women diminished themselves to flatter a man; she didn't.

“I would love to try your food.”

“You should. I make the best lamb with mint sauce.”

“Is that your signature dish?”

“Probably, or my homemade sausage.”

Bill looked impressed.

“Seriously? Fuck, that's impressive!”

Some seats further away sat Odette and looked at her friend and the man she wanted. All of the girls looked annoyed that Bill gave Brigitte his full attention, but no one was as irritated as her.

When Brigitte and him got to a natural pause, he looked at Victoria, who walked by.

“Would you want to visit the balcony with me? There’s a really great view there,” he said with a charming smile. Victoria blushed red all the way down her neck.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” she said with a giggle and fixed her baby pink bikini top. While Bill stood up, Victoria looked at one of the lounge chairs.

“I will just... ” She ran to the chair and then pulled on an Aztec patterned kimono. Bill looked at her disappointed, and she seemed to have noticed because she looked at him confused.

“Is it something?”

“Oh, no, no.” He scratched his neck and looked towards the big building.

They walked in silence up to the balcony, not because they didn't have anything to say, just that they wanted to be far away from the other girls’ nosy stares.

“Wow! This is amazing!” exclaimed Victoria when they were up and looked down at the view of California’s nature. Bill looked almost proud when he looked out over the view and the afternoon sun. It wasn't even his country, but he had started to see it as his home. He had lived there for quite many years.

“I thought New Yorkers hate Los Angeles?” said Bill teasingly. Victoria shrugged her shoulders with an embarrassed smile.

“It's a different feeling. I like the rougher vibe, but you're more Hollywood?” It sounded like she teased him, but Bill couldn't see the playfulness in her eyes.

“No, not really. I preferred New York before I moved here, but life, you know, it takes you to places you never thought.”

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. Bill looked out over the view and felt again that feeling he had felt at the cocktail party. They didn't match.

“Working at a bookstore, you must read a lot?”

“Ehm… Not really, actually. I can feel that books and authors have a tendency to tell the same story over and over.” Bill nodded a little, but in reality he couldn't understand what she said. Everything was stories. Books, movies, series, even documentaries. Didn't she consume anything of it? He was a writer, a former actor; his whole life was stories.

“Do you read a lot?” She asked and looked at him with uncertainty; maybe she had felt his vibe.

“Yeah, when I don't write myself. Then I do research for my own books… Yeah, I would say I read a lot.”

Victoria nodded and then giggled.

“You would have a lot to talk about with my dad, then.”

Bill smiled at her, but it was forced. It wasn't her dad he wanted to be able to talk with, but with her. Discreetly, he looked at her baby pink bikini top and the swell of her breasts, then he looked out over the view again with a deep exhalation.

×××

The sun had started to go down when Bill took a walk by himself around the gardens after being with several of the girls around the pool. He had a lot to think about, and the girls didn't make it easy for him. He didn't really have feelings for any of them, but he had many mixed thoughts about them. It seemed like all of them had qualities he both liked and disliked, and some girls he felt potential with, but it just hadn't bloomed yet. In normal life he would have given a woman a longer chance, but here he needed to say goodbye just by a feeling or some awkward seconds. He wanted to get to know them better but also think things through, but it wasn't time. When he came around the corner, he saw Sienna sitting in a heated pool by herself. Her middle-length dark hair was wet and slicked back over her head. She smiled shyly at him but still looked inviting. Bill walked up to her with long, slow strides.

“Are you here alone?”

“Yeah, it can get a bit much,” she said and looked down in the water, embarrassed. Bill smirked in understanding but slipped down into the water without an invitation. The water was so warm it stung his skin for a few seconds. He hoped to be able to talk with her, but once again that awkward feeling crept up on him. He didn't know what to say at all, and she was just as quiet. He noticed she was shy, and it seemed to infect him. He was also shy but could often master it, but with another person being just as awkward as himself, his head became empty and his limbs restless.

“So… You're a painter, right?” He asked after some awkward minutes.

“Yeah,” she said shortly. Bill nodded and crawled down deeper in the water so his shoulders were also under the surface.

“What do you paint?”

“Ehm… Right now it's mostly zebras.” Sienna didn't look at him. Bill waited a few seconds to see if she would give him an explanation of her motives, but she continued to be quiet. He started to regret having crawled down in the pool with her; now he was stuck there and couldn't just walk away; it would be too mean.

“I have read all your books,” Sienna suddenly said, and Bill looked at her surprised. He had started to give up on having a conversation with her.

“Yeah? Do you like them?” He asked curiously.

“Most of them. Sometimes they feel a bit try-hard.”

Bill looked at her shocked with furrowed eyes. Sienna looked up at him and smiled a bit teasingly, and Bill laughed. Her comment was unexpected.

“Here is the man I've been searching for!” announced a feminine voice behind him. Esmeralda crouched down next to his head and dragged her finger over his neck. It was a nice sensation, and it made Bill smile big.

“I want a massage; can't you join me?”

Bill turned to her and met her whiskey eyes. He licked his lips slowly and nodded.

“Sure.”

He gave Sienna an apologetic smile before lifting himself out of the hot water to Esmeralda. He looked at Esmeralda with a smile and felt something in his stomach. Maybe he had started to get feelings for someone after all.

×××

It was silent between them. Bill and Esmeralda walked close together, but none of them said anything, but it didn't matter because the silence was completely different from the silence with Sienna or Victoria, this silence was full of warm tension. Bill snuck looks at Esmeralda's beautiful profile, and she did the same, admiring his full lips and upturned nose. She giggled a little and let her fingers touch his. Bill smirked, looked at her, and caught her hand when she dragged her fingertips over his knuckles. They threaded their fingers together and gave each other a blushing smile.

They took a detour to the spa and spoke softly about their kids but also their experiences in the model industry. Bill had some experience with it from a younger age, while Esmeralda had worked in it since she was sixteen. Now she was older and curvier and mostly did work for fast fashion brands. She confessed it wasn't her dream job anymore and thought about doing something else. Bill listened with full attention. Even if they talked about such simple subjects, he could hear in her way of expressing herself that she was intelligent, and he felt his attraction to her grow every minute. She spoke like a strong woman.

“Have you noticed he has talked with almost everyone today except us?” said Sandra to Maria, where they sat by the pool together. “The old spinsters.”

Maria sighed, putting her sunglasses on her head.

“He hasn't talked with everyone; there’s several he hasn't talked to, and that doesn't need to be a bad thing. Maybe he's very sure of us.”

“Oh right, sure like that?”

Sandra nodded bitterly towards Bill and Esmeralda, who walked close together, hand in hand, they didn't even think about that the others could see them. Maria looked at them but lowered her eyes fast with jealousy.

“It's always like that; they have a favorite in the beginning but they forget fast. Nothing to worry about.”

Maria stretched out in her lounge chair, trying to look sure of her thing, but in reality she became worried too. Two lounge chairs away sat Camila, who had heard everything she said about him having a favorite in the beginning who he would soon forget. Bill hadn't given her many glances that day. Instead, other women seemed to be more interesting, especially Esmeralda. Camila looked at Bill and Esmeralda as they walked into the spa and how Bill changed from holding her hand to lying it around her waist and pulling her closer to his body. Esmeralda had the privilege to feel his naked skin against hers while she hadn't even met his eyes that day. 

××× 

The sun stood low in the sky and made everything golden around them. They lay next to each other on massage tables while two female masseuses rubbed their backs. Bill laid with his cheek pressed against the table to be able to look at Esmeralda; she laid the same way but had her eyes shut, but with a playful smile on her lips, she knew he was looking at her. Bill admired her face but also her golden back, glowing from the massage oil. He wished he could be the one touching her, but it would be too early to do such a thing on the show; both of them would probably look slutty. Instead, he stretched his long arm out and tickled her forearm lightly. Esmeralda opened her eyes and looked at him, then down at his open palm in front of her. She giggled and took his hand in hers. Their clasped hands hung between the table the rest of the massage. Bill gave her 90 minutes of his time and didn't even think about the women who hadn't gotten any of his time. 

××× 

The Orangery: 

Esmeralda: I like him way too much already. I would be devastated if he let me go. 

Sandra: It’s starting to feel a bit hopeless; he just talks with the same girls over and over. I’m starting to wonder what I'm doing here. 

×××

Back in the house, the energies were all over the place. Two would leave Bill's residence, and it could be anyone. Or anyone except Esmeralda. All of them had noticed how he favored her. She had gotten much more time than anyone else, and he also held her hand. It sounded like something from a 50s movie where hand holding was a big step, but there, in the show, everything became a big deal; who Bill chose to sit next to was even a big deal. 

Bill was also nervous. His walk in closet had become the room where all those emotions were let out because it was there he made himself ready for the ceremonies. This night he had a loose fit black button up and a pair of dark gray slacks. It was his stylist who had put the outfit together, and he paired it with some simple silver jewelry.

“Are you ready?” Herman asked and looked Bill up and down. He looked ready. Bill fixed his hair one last time, and with a shaky exhalation, he nodded. 

Bill was taken aback by how many of the women that wore black. It was really just two of them who wore color, Rose and Tiffany. Rose wore a baby pink dress and Tiffany wore a multicolored maxi dress; otherwise, the others were dressed like they would go to a funeral. Bill wasn't better himself, and he wondered if all of them felt stress about that two would be leaving that night. 

“So, tonight I must send two of you home... I hope you know it's not an easy decision, and I wish I could’ve had more time with all of you ehm…”

He turned his gaze from them to look at the keys on the velvet cushion, and after a few seconds he took the first one in his hand. 

Esmeralda. 

There were some annoyed faces behind Esmeralda, but neither Bill nor Esmeralda cared; they just smiled warmly at each other, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek when he had given her the key. 

Brigitte.

Tiffany. 

Camila. 

Sienna. 

Maria. 

Violet.

Sandra.

Rose. 

It was silent in the room, especially because Odette had started crying. No one was prepared for her to be the one who needed to leave; she and Bill had spoken a lot, and she was that kind of girl who was easy to like. There were others they thought Bill had a much smaller interest in. Still, he had chosen to send her home. 

Victoria became forgotten in the tumult with Odette and stood awkwardly by herself when several of the girls started to comfort Odette. 

Bill stood as awkwardly to the side as Victoria. He met her eyes and gave her a sad smile. She smiled back and gave him a shoulder shrug. She didn't make it a big thing and walked up to him. She still wore the same smile and gave him a hug. 

“I get it, sometimes it's just not right.” She shrugged her shoulders again. Bill smiled and nodded a little. 

“Yeah… I'm sorry.” 

“It's okay. Thank you for your hospitality,” she said before saying goodbye to Sienna and Rose, then she walked to her room to get her things. 

Bill wondered if Victoria might have even thought to herself that they didn't match. They were too different from each other. Odette, on the other hand, was much more like him, but he didn't feel the thing with her either. 

Slowly, he walked up to the girls. Odette stood and hugged Violet, but the other girls stepped back. She looked at Bill with red eyes. He swallowed hard. It was never fun making someone sad. 

“Do you want to talk?” He asked and pointed towards the door to the deck. She wiped away some tears, and Violet let her go carefully. Odette nodded, said goodbye to the girls, and followed him out, but she ignored Brigitte’s open arms. 

Bill leaned against the railing, and Odette did the same thing with a little sob. Bill didn't do a thing about her tears because it would be even more awkward if he started to hug her or something. He had made her cry, and he couldn't do anything about it. 

“To be honest, this was really unexpected… I really felt we had something?” She said and dried her tears again. Bill felt his own emotions push in his chest, but it wasn't romantic feelings for her. It was just terrible guilt, he felt like he had fooled her.

“We do have something, but for me it would be friendship. I really like you, but I don't feel... Anymore than that.” 

Odette looked at him with shiny eyes. 

“Oh.” 

“I really think you're a great person, and it's so easy to hang out with you, but maybe too easy?” 

Bill tried to talk as carefully as he could, but he could see on her face that his words hurt her, but he didn't know how to say it otherwise. 

Odette nodded a little.

“I guess it's good bye now then?” 

She stood up in front of him, and Bill straightened up too. 

“Yeah… I'm sorry…” He said and gave her a friendly hug. He didn't even need to try to hold back; a friendly hug was the only thing he had for her. 

××× 

The orangery: 

Bill: Victoria is wonderful, but I couldn't find anything we had in common. 

Odette is an amazing girl, and I really could see us being friends, but I felt quite fast that was the only thing between us. It was better saying goodbye at once when I was so sure of my feelings. 

× 

[hellofeanor]

Fëanorian Quenya

Hey friends! Do you like elves? Do you like the Silmarillion? Do you like Fëanor and co? And most of all, do you like spending hours thinking about minor details pertaining to made-up languages??? If so, boy do I have a treat for you! Let’s delve into the weird world of Fëanorian Quenya and explore some history and mechanics of why they talk Like That.

I’ve seen a lot of posts joking about the Fëanorian lisp, which is about as funny as a joke about a speech impediment can be. 👍 It’s important to understand, though, that this IS a joke. No, they didn’t really speak with a lisp. Yes, they did pronounce some S sounds as TH. That’s the critical disclaimer here: SOME. It’s not a blanket pronunciation. There’s a lot of background research that goes into determining which words would be pronounced with S and which would be TH, and that’s what we’re going to look at.

So if this is something you’ve come across in fandom and you’re not totally sure on the details, or if you ARE sure and just want some more in-depth info, read on.

The stuff probably everybody knows already

For anyone who’s been hanging around the Fëanorian corner of the Silm fandom for more than three minutes, there’s about a 100% chance you’ve heard of Fëanor’s penchant for retaining an archaic TH pronunciation after the majority of the Noldor went ahead and started pronouncing this sound as S instead. You may also know that this sound is represented by the letter thorn (Þ) in HoME, but since thorn doesn’t exist in modern English orthography and it’s a pain to keep typing the ALT code, I’m sticking to TH here. Anyway, all this was due to the fact that Fëanor was a huge mama’s boy, and his mom Míriel Therindë (later called Serindë, which made Fëanor want to punch walls and possibly also fellow elves) was an outlier who retained the TH after it fell out of use. Her son Fëanor, in turn, kept this up to honor her. Now, whether or not he would have bothered if this sound hadn’t literally been a critical part of her name is debatable, but that debate is outside the scope of this essay.

Fëanor continued to use the TH pronunciation until his death, and required his sons to use it as well. Finwë, however, switched over to S after the death of Míriel and before his marriage to Indis. Fëanor, reasonable and level-headed as he was, took this as a personal insult and decided that anybody who rejected TH likewise rejected him. So presumably, his loyal followers would have obeyed his totally reasonable demands not to give in to the seductive S-shift.

Why tho

Why did the Noldor decide to alter their pronunciation from TH to S? Great question. Nobody really knows. For the hell of it? IDK. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But the important thing to understand is that elves, and especially Noldor, were really committed to making sure their language sounds cool. This is why it changed so much and so comparatively quickly for an immortal population: they were actively invested in changing it. They liked inventing new words and exploring new sounds and messing around with grammar.

So at some point some influential Noldo might have been like, hey y’all, let’s stop saying TH and say S instead! And everyone (except Míriel I guess, who was known for her elegant manner of speech and didn’t want to muck that up by changing pronunciation of a whole letter) was like, whoa, capital idea my good egg. And they went with it. Previous ideas along these lines included ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying KH and say H instead’ and ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying Z and say R instead’, and those went over swimmingly. Nobody could have foreseen the problem this TH to S business would cause.

Now here’s a fun fact. There was another change to Noldorin pronunciation that happened AFTER Fëanor’s birth, that he himself was involved in. This one was all about bilabial to labiodental F. And those sure are some words, so if you don’t know what I’m talking about (I don’t blame you), BILABIAL is a more whispery sound that happens when you say F using only air passing through your pursed lips, and LABIODENTAL is when you say F with your top teeth touching your bottom lip. Going forward I’m going to use PH to represent the bilabial sound, and F for the labiodental.

So F got on the radar of the Noldor via the Teleri, who used this sound in their language. And ol’ Fëanor figured it would be awesome to incorporate it into Quenya because he thought the PH sounded too close to HW, and the two were getting confused by lazy speakers. Why did he care? Because of his dad’s name and his own, of course. If people started to get lazy in their pronunciation, we’d end up with Hwinwë and Hwëanáro, which would be terrible and stupid and unacceptable. He accused the Vanyar of leaning down that road, and he wanted to stop that kind of shift before it happened to the Noldor. How to do that? Why, by instigating a different shift from traditional Noldorin PH to Telerin F!

“Hey y’all, let’s stop saying PH and say F instead!”

“Whoa, capital idea my good egg.”

Moral of the story: Fëanor is only concerned with Quenya pronunciation insofar as it affects his own name and the names of family members he likes. He does not care whether it’s staying the same or moving to a new sound so long as it personally makes him feel good and his name sound cool. Therefore the true way to piss him off would be to call him Curuhwinwë Hwëanáro, son of Serindë.

Okay so here’s how it works

Now that history is out of the way, let’s get back to how TH was used by the Fëanorians. As I mentioned earlier, TH wasn’t a blanket pronunciation. It all depended on the original form of the word, and whether the root had a TH or an S. And some very similar-sounding words come from different roots, so this can get tricky. A great resource that’ll give you this information is Eldamo: Quenya words where the S was originally TH are marked out with the Þ (thorn) symbol in the wordlist.

Some examples:

Súlë (spirit, breath) comes from the root THŪ, which means it would be pronounced with a TH. Silma (white crystal) comes from the root SIL, so it and related words like Silmaril would be pronounced with an S. No Fëanorian would say Thilmaril. Isil (moon), however, is a similar-sounding word that comes from a different root: THIL. Olos (mass of flowers) comes from the word LOTH, but: Olos (dream) comes from the root LOS. Fëanorian pronunciation would immediately differentiate between these two words.

While Fëanorians may have retained the distinct pronunciation of TH vs S, other Noldor can still differentiate between original S and S-that-used-to-be-TH in their writing. There are specific tengwar to use depending on the word’s original form. Silmë (the one that looks like a 6) is used for original S, while súlë (or thúlë, the one that looks like an h) is used for original TH.

Which other elves used this sound in their speech?

Fandom has really latched on to this TH as a Fëanorian thing, but it wasn’t that exclusively. The TH sound was actually ubiquitous in other elven languages, and in Valinor, only the Noldor dropped it. It was still used in Telerin and in Vanyarin Quendya. The Vanyar retained the TH not because of anything to do with Míriel, but just because they were a little more conservative and their language didn’t pick up on all the changes that the Noldor made. They also noped out of the Z to R shift the Noldor initiated, opting to keep the Z around.

When Indis married Finwë, she stopped using the normal Vanyarin TH and switched over to S as a gesture of loyalty to him and his people. Finarfin, however, out of love for the Vanyar and Teleri, switched BACK to TH. I like to think about how much it would have annoyed Fëanor that his snot-nosed kid brother was speaking correctly, but for the wrong reason. Go down one more generation, and Galadriel very specifically did not use TH. But this time it was absolutely a choice made as a glaring middle finger to Fëanor.

What this means for your fanfic or whatever

The big takeaway here: you can’t just have Fëanorians replace every S with TH and call it a day.

If you’re inventing names for your Fëanorian OCs or coming up with phrases for them to say, it’s important to look into the history of all Quenya S-words you end up using to determine if they should be S or TH. If Fëanor got mad about somebody saying Serindë instead of Therindë, he’d get equally mad about somebody saying Thilmaril instead of Silmaril and assume they were mocking him. Remember: this is a dude with no chill. (On the other hand, if you WANT somebody to be mocking Fëanor, Galadriel would 100% do this because she has an equally negligible amount of chill.)

It’s also important to note that the TH isn’t a true shibboleth, since pretty much all elves EXCEPT the non-Fëanorian Noldor use it. And even the S-preferring Noldor would still be able to pronounce the TH. Those who went into exile would go on to use it commonly in Sindarin, and those who remained in Valinor would still encounter it among the Vanyar and Teleri. So if you’re writing a scene where somebody has to pronounce a TH word to prove their loyalty… yeah, everyone can pass this test. And in the opposite direction, you can’t use TH to prove somebody’s an evil Fëanorian, either. They might just be Vanyarin or something. Or, like. Really Old.

Would the sons (and followers) of Fëanor keep using TH after his death? Oh hell yeah. This is an entire family unfamiliar with the concept of not dying on hills. They will keep using it unto the ending of the world. Actually, with Sindarin becoming the common language of Middle-earth from the First Age, probably not a lot of change happened in exilic Quenya. It became a lore language: a piece of living history. It would have been preserved as it was when the original speakers left Valinor.

(And then, thousands of years later, Galadriel finally returns home to Tirion like, Long have mine eyes awaited this most blissful of sights, and ne’er hath my sprit soared with such grace, for I am returned! And all the Amanyar Noldor stare at her like, whatchu bangin on bout, eh? Because they had nothing better to do in the peace of Valinor than push Quenya to brave and frankly questionable new horizons.)

Anyway, there you go: a somewhat brief history of Fëanorian Quenya. I hope you found this informative and useful, or at the very least not boring. Obvs this is super condensed and, uh, not particularly scholarly, but I promise I know what I’m talking about. I have a university degree! (Not in anything even remotely related to what’s written above, but I hardly see how that’s relevant. It’s still a DEGREE.)

Questions? Need clarification or want more info? My asks are always open!

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend, hoping that you are feeling better today and up for what's really mostly salt. I'm not sure I have anything to add to the 911 dissatisfaction discourse (and that its not all over the place) that hasn't been said before and said better, but here's the things that really struck me this episode. First is what feels like a clear intent to replace Buddie with Hen and Buck this season. Let's be clear, i love Hen and Buck together and their dynamuc is not out of nowhere, but i

can't help but feel its not only forced, but being forced to give an excuse not to show Buck with the Diaz boys. Just last season Eddie had his meltdown and the FIRST person Chris called was Buck, who literally dropped everything in his life (including his gf) to take care of them for weeks!! Now they don't hang out anymore, Buck doesn't check in when Eddie stresses about Chris lying or growing up in general?? He's been to therapy, Buck's done his job and that's that. Am I really supposed to buy into that?? I don't know if this is KR's way of minimizing Buddies importance, it feels more like maybe a way to try and make Buck's sperm donor nonsense somehow intersect with Denny asking about his Dad and that leads to something?? Maybe?? I don't know but it's hard to not feel like that makes the entire interaction even more forced, especially since right now it's been mostly a joke and bringing those two things together will be...a choice. Which brings up the point that nothing this season feels like it's setting anything up. I may not be a fan of S5 but at least the highlight, Eddie's breakdown arc, was set up beautifully from the start, as was the Madney issues, and even Bobby's near relapse (even though those last weren't nearly as well executed). Just, what are we supposed go be expecting for the characters?? Nothing that's happened seems in any way connected, it's like KR turned 911 into a sitcom and only occasionally remembers it's a drama. If the big arc this season is for Buck why has it been treated as a joke mostly?? Any cliffhanger we get for the midseason finale won't be nearly as impactful as Eddie quitting last year because it will come out of nowhere. And finally hard agree that the emergencies no longer mean anything. Like the best storyline so far is Eddie dealing with Chris growing up but it doesn't in any way involve his job, I could watch it on any drama on TV!!  

 Sorry to cut out mid rant, i got interrupted by someone expecting me to focus on my assigned tasks (the audacity). Anyway, pretty sure I more or less finished, i just want to see some spark of the old 911. The new dynamics are fun, but to again use our favorite punching bag of a show, it was also nice to see Alex talk to Max at the end of S3, but it made no sense and I'd have 10 times rather seen his limited screentime spent elsewhere. I need 911 to start doing better than RNM!

Hello my friend! I’m still languishing in my sick bed and very much not looking forward to packing, traveling, or sleeping on my brother and SIL’s couch in their overly crowded house for 3 nights while I’m recuperating, but I’m very excited for the wedding so there’s that to look forward to! 

This rant is all 100% spot on and exactly where I’m at right now. I’m not losing all hope, I’m having some fun, I’m laughing, or awwww-ing, but there’s just no gut-punch moments, no edge-of-your-seat moments, no depth, and nothing cohesive tying everything together. You’re so right about the Buck/Hen stuff feeling forced at this point and it’s BECAUSE we’re not getting any Buck/Eddie. Buck talking to Hen when they lost someone made sense because she was the captain on the scene and made the call and they ARE friends and is someone he respects and looks up to for guidance and someone who has all the answers. Him talking to her about the sperm donor thing made sense too as it’s something she’s seen the other side of but it was weird not getting ANYONE else talking with him about it, and the way the show has played it all off as a joke means it dragging out and becoming something bigger is going to be a weird tonal shift, especially since we didn’t get the firefam trying to be cool about it at work but following that scene up with Eddie or Bobby pulling Buck aside to talk about it and it was dropped again this week and likely won’t come up much if at all in the 6a finale unless it’s tied into the Denny stuff but again, they’ve treated it as a joke until now, so it’s going to be a jarring tonal shift if it’s a huge issue suddenly in the finale.

I also agree with where this season is going because like ??? what is anyone doing? Eddie’s dealing with Chris growing up but that’s been a couple of minutes in a few scenes spread over 8 episodes, Chim has nothing outside Maddie and Jee and even most of that has happened off screen (and actually most of THAT is speculation because we’re not even earing about much in canon either and is a lot of guesswork from fans based on the synopsis saying they were doing couples therapy), Maddie had the one thing in 6x05 and that’s been it outside a few scenes with Chim and Jee, Hen’s med school thing wrapped 2 episodes ago, Athena had “her” episode which affected zero things in the rest of the show and she hasn’t had much else besides these few scenes with May this week, Buck is all over the place looking for the right couch one episode, the key to happiness the next (neither of which have been brought up again since those episodes aired), and now this sperm donor thing but he’s not talking with Bobby or Maddie or Eddie or even Chim about anything, and Bobby is apparently finally getting something in the finale in 2 weeks, but it’s about a character that hasn’t come up in the 26 episodes since 4x14 a year and a half ago. Joy.

And I think that’s the issue with the emergencies. Because the episodes themselves aren’t having a clear narrative purpose and there’s no major arcs to move forward, the emergencies are just things happening to people we don’t care about with no weight or barring on anything, and they’re running them longer BECAUSE they aren’t doing anything with the mains on the personal side of things so they need stuff to fill the void.

As for the change in character interactions, if we were getting these “new” dynamics in ADDITION to the old ones I think it would be fine, but we’re not getting anything out of most of these scenes that either a) is revealing something to the audience they haven’t (or *can’t*) tell the person in the regular paring, b) is a shared experience only this new pairing has (Eddie and Chim have SO much potential for deep conversations about Maddie/Shannon/their kids/their dads), or c) would work better with the dynamics we’re used to seeing. You’re so right to bring in the RNM parallel because they did the same kind of thing like having Alex and Max talk but it not actually giving us much and it feeling disjointed because they hadn’t spoken for 3 seasons and also robbed us of scenes we actually wanted to see with characters that made sense. 911 is better than this, or at least it used to be. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[write-orflight]

Trouble: Chapter 2

*Gif not mine*

Pairings: HotchxReader

Prologue  Chapter 1

Rating: M

Words: 3K

Warnings: Basic witch stuff, angst, mentions of child birth, mentions of near death

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: After Haley’s passing, Aaron Hotchner has lost the light in his eyes. He seems to find it it the most unlikely of places, an occult themed coffee shop ran by a witch.

A.N: Tarot, wicca, and crystal information is very secondhand if you see any inaccuracies, no you don’t. If you are a witch tho and want to help and be nice to me enter my ask box please, I’m annoying my friend too much.

Chapter 2: God, don't let me lose my mind

The deeper into autumn you got the more busy the shop was. 

Halloween was a big money grabber for your shop. People loved to come to the shop around that time because your shop offered such ‘spooky’ feel, as the hipster who came in that morning would say. You hated that. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays simply because the veil between the natural and supernatural was so thin it was the best time for spells and charms but what you didn’t like was people and baby witches asking you about certain spells or how to commune with spirits just so they can do something “extra spooky” for whatever parties they were having for the season. Consultations were such easy money though so you’d never turn them away but your answer was always the same, that Spirits are not toys and that if they are going to invite them it better be serious and for the right intentions otherwise they might not leave. 

Despite it being your favorite season, It didn’t make you less annoyed. 

“If I have to make another Pumpkin flavored whatever and tell a sorority girl not to invoke a demon in her house, I’m going to scream.” Silena says to you as you enter the shop, Artemis in tow. Your sitter had to take an exam so you had to watch her for the first 2 hours of your shift. Artie, knowing the drill by now, tries to crawl up to the bar stool. You watch her for a second, smiling her little legs before taking pity on her and hoisting her up. She immediately pulls a coloring book and crayons out her bag, before working diligently in silence. You kiss her temple before walking behind the counter, tying your apron on. 

“You had another consultation today?” You asked.  

“Pfft, it wasn’t even that. She asked me while ordering her coffee, though I should’ve charged her for that dumbass question.” You look at her pointed, nodding your head towards your child who repeats everything. Silly winces “Sorry, but still. If this is how halloween is going to be, you’re probably going to have to do some balancing spells.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly what I need, more work.” 

“What’s a dumbass?” Artie pipes up from her perch on the stool. 

“Something you are not and shouldn’t repeat unless you want your mom mad at me.” Silly says, reaching across the counter to ruffle her hair. 

The doorbell of the shop rings and the very man who’s occupied your mind these past couple of months steps in. Aaron Hotchner was one of your favorite customers despite not talking very much, he’d make small talk while you made his order which you found yourself doing slower than it would normally take you, just to get a little bit more of his time, he’d leave a tip in the jar and be on his way always leaving you with a small smile that you always immediately returned with a wide one. You tried to stop yourself from getting attached but here you were, an adult woman who had a crush on a customer who probably didn’t think about you when he left the shop. 

You’d never seen him on a weekend though and frankly you didn’t know if you could handle seeing him like this again, he wore dark blue jeans, a black belt and a black t-shirt that fit a little too well over his broad chest you couldn’t help but staring at his arms that you’d never seen on display like this. You knew for a fact(well you hoped at least) he’d have no issue picking you up or pinning you down. 

Now’s not the time, y/n… you think. 

“Hey, you.” You greet, flirtatiously. You’ve been trying not to flirt with him, you really were but sometimes you couldn’t help it. It was your personality. “Didn’t think I’d see you in here. On a weekend, no less.” 

“Yea, decided to stop for coffee before heading to my sister in law’s. Can I have my usual and an Americano for her?” He asks 

“You got it.” You wink before starting to work. Silly gives you a knowing look which you brush off. Hotch takes a seat at the bar a few seats away from your daughter who looks up at him. 

“Hi!” She says excitedly. “I’m Artie.” 

“Hi Artie, I’m Aaron.” He looks around. “Are your parents around?” You look up. You’d forgotten to mention you had a kid to Hotch, which would probably explain his confusion of a random child sitting alone. 

“My mama’s right there, silly.” She laughs. “Mama?” She says you look up automatically from the milk you’re frothing. 

“Yes, bean?” You say. 

“Can I have a brownie?”  

“Well, I don’t know. Did you finish the addition tables I asked you to do?” She shakes her head at you. “Well, how about you do that then we’ll see if it’s brownie time, deal?” She nods, fast while pulling her math homework out of her bag. Hotch watches the interaction confused but with a slight smile. 

“I didn’t know you had a kid.” He says 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Gus.” You say, calling him by the nickname you affectionately gave him your first meeting. “But yes I do, that’s Artemis.” 

He nods, knowingly. “How old?” 

“Well, I don’t know. How old are you, bean?” You say. 

“I’m six!” She says, holding up 5 fingers, you grab her other hand to extend her other index finger too so the number was actually 6. 

“Really? You’re not 16 yet?” Silly asks, ruffling her hair. “I thought you were driving us home tonight?” 

Artie shakes her head. “Mama says I can’t drive yet.” 

“Between you and me kid, your mama shouldn’t be on the road either.” You swat at her. 

Aaron gives a small chuckle at the display in front of him. But he has to ask the burning question in his head. “Her dad—“ 

“Not in the picture.” You cut off. “Like not even in the same gallery.” 

Hotch nods understandably as you put his drinks in the carrier for him. He looks at you confused when you add a 3rd cup. 

“Hot chocolate.” You say. “For your son. I imagine that’s where you’re going. To pick him up from your sister?”  

“How did you know I had a son?” He asks. 

“Oh, I just used one of my witchy spells to find out information on you.” You say jokingly, but he looks at you with mild horror. “I’m kidding, Spencer told me.” 

He nods. “Thank you, y/n.” 

“No problem, come back to see me?” 

“Always.” He says, offering you a small secret smile before leaving. You can’t help the dreamy look you give his retreating back. 

“Are you coming back to earth anytime soon?” Sil says, shaking her head. “You got it bad, kid.” 

“Pfft, no I don’t.” You say turning to clean up the mess you just made. 

“I don’t understand why you just won’t ask him out.” 

“He’s healing, Sil.” You say, shrugging. “And I don’t want to push him into something he’s obviously not ready for.” 

Not to mention you also didn’t think you were ready for it. 

———————————————

On Halloween day, you get a visit from one of your favorite customers 

“Pennywise!” You say to chipper blonde women who strolled in she was wearing a orange and black dress with little jack-O-lantern earrings that you had gotten her the beginning of month. You move your hair back to show her the Ouija board pointer earrings she had gotten you in return. Penelope Garcia couldn’t just accept a gift without giving one in return. 

“Hey Y/N, how are you this ole hallow’s eve?”

“It’s Halloween and a full moon tonight.” You say excitedly. “It’s like witch Christmas.” 

“I don’t know about that but I am happy for you. Can I have a pumpkin spice latte and since I’m such a good friend an Americano with extra sugar for the good doctor?” She asks. 

“You got it, Pen.” You say before starting her order. “Heading into work now?” 

“Sure am! Hopefully there’s not a gruesome murder so I’ll be able to spend my Halloween having fun.” Penelope says. “You got any plans?” 

“Other than taking Artie Trick or Treating and charging some crystals in the full moon, no.” 

“Come on, no wild parties? no hexing beautiful men into falling in love with you?” Penny asks. You laugh loudly, shaking your head. “Man, maybe the life of a witch was more exciting in my head.” 

“Yea, you did.” You laugh. “I’m basically just a cool rock collector plus love spells, so not my thing.” 

“So there’s such a thing?” 

“Yea there’s love spells. I don’t believe in using them. I think love itself is it’s own powerful being. It shouldn’t be manipulated with, if someone was meant to love me they would.” 

“Speaking of love and love spells…” Silena pipes up from the display case she was loading pastries she just made into. “Penelope, how’s your boss?” You glare over at her. 

“Hotch?” Penny asks looking between the two of you before smirking at you. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I don’t.” You say at the same time as Silena says. “She has a Texas sized crush on him.” 

Garcia practically squeals at that. “Let me set you up please.” 

“No, Penny.” You say, immediately 

“Why not?” Her and Silly say at the same time. 

“Because… I don’t know didn’t his wife just die months ago, it’s hardly appropriate for me to try swoop in.” 

“Ex-wife. They were already long divorced before she died.” Penelope adds 

“Still! It’s not appropriate.” You say. 

“So what? You’re just going to keep making him free coffee until he realizes you're into him?” 

“Yup” you say adding the 3rd cup to Garcia’s carrier. “Give that to Grumpy for me please.” Garcia opens her mouth to say something but you just hold up your hand cutting her off 

“Fine.” She says, grabbing the carrier. “Only because I have to go to work though, this conversation isn’t over.”  

“Yes it is.” You call after her. 

��—————————————

You were back in the shop. Artie was tuckered out after a long night of trick or treating and crashing from her sugar high so you decided to charge some of your crystals and do some balancing spells, knowing for a fact a lot of teenagers did stupid shit to upset the balance. 

As you were lighting the candles and incense, you heard a knock at the door. You were long closed so who could possibly need something right now? You look out the window and Aaron is standing there. You’re confused but you let him in anyway. 

“Hey Grumpy, what’re you doing here?” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were closed, I guess I’ve never been here at night. I’ll go. I'm sorry for bothering you.” He says turns to go but you grab his arm to stop him. 

“Gus… it’s almost midnight, no business is open. You’re here because there’s obviously something upsetting you so I’m not just going to let you leave.” You all but push him into barstool. “Now like I said it’s almost midnight so there is something important I need to do so if you’ll sit tight for like 2 minutes, I’ll make us coffee.” 

Hotch obliges, sitting silently watching you as you lit some candles on the altar you kept in the shop. You placed the honey cake you had made earlier in the day on the altar before whispering. 

“Thank you to the patron, Artemis, Great goddess of Moon and Magic. Mistress of deer and owl. Be thou my guide and Inspiration. Teach me Thy mysteries and lead me in thy ways.” You stand and turn back to Hotch who is watching you intensely. “Sorry about that, midnight is her favorite time. Coffee?” You ask, He nods as you move behind the counter. 

“Can I ask what it is you just did?” Hotch ask. 

“That?” He nods. “It’s a full moon so since Artemis is my patron goddess, it’s best to leave a sacrifice to stay in her favor.” You shrug. He looks at you like you're crazy but you're used to that look. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s no different then some catholic practices. In fact, Christians often stole from pagan practices, and only one is just considered ‘taboo’ now.” 

“Is that why you named your child Artemis, because she’s your Patron?” He asks. 

“Actually, Artemis is my Patron because of Artie.” You say, he looks at you as if asking you to continue. “I wasn’t always like this.” You say gesturing to yourself and the shop. “My parents are pastors and for a long time I was this faith devout christian girl. But I got pregnant out of wedlock, my parents disowned me and I was looking for something to turn to. I met Silena and she introduced me to Wicca, and said whoever my Patron was through meditation and study, They’ll reveal themselves to me. So I went months, meditating daily, and still nothing was working. Then I went into labor, and everything was going wrong. I thought, this was my punishment from god for not only getting pregnant without marriage but turning to witchcraft. I had to have an emergency C-section. And when I was on the operating table, I almost died, Artie almost died. I started to see these images of deer and boar running through the forest. And finally when I came back to, and I could hear my baby crying, the first thing I saw when my eyes opened was the full moon out the window.” You sigh, sliding a cup to Hotch before moving from behind the counter to take a seat next to him. “That’s when I realized the goddess had saved me and my child. And while Artemis prefers virgin patronage, and that ship had long sailed past back then. I figured naming my child after her was the next best thing.”  

“That’s a beautiful story, Y/N.” He says, looking at you sincerely.   

“Thank you, and since you’re not running for the hills, why don’t you tell me why you really knocked at my door at midnight.” 

“It’s just…” He starts, clearing his throat. “Tonight was the first ‘major’ holiday without Haley. And I tried to take Jack’s mind off it, make it fun but it was like this looming weight above us. That it wasn’t the same without her and that it never would be. And I was upset and just wanted to take a walk but I guess my feet carried me here.” He shrugged. 

“Well I’m glad you’re here grumpy. And you’re healing you need to give yourself time--” 

“I don’t have time!” He snaps. You flinch back a bit, having never heard his raised voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just-I don’t have time to heal. I have to be there for Jack.”

“Who’s there for you, Aaron?” You ask. He looks at you confused. You hardly ever call him by his name. It's either grumpy or gus or a combination of the two. Never by his actual name, he hated how much he liked how it sounded coming from your lips. “Do you know what a rock tumbler is?” you ask, he shakes his head confused where you’re going with this. You run behind the counter to retrieve the box you had dug through the very first night you met.

“Well a rock tumbler is a device you put rocks into. Rocks that have eroded, rocks that have trekked the earth, rocks that have been to hell and back. And what you do is you put them in this device with a little bit of water and you wait. Days, weeks, months all the while this device is just spinning, you don’t see what’s happening on the inside but after a while, when the time is right, you get these beautiful lustrous stones.” You say, showing him the box. “Healing is the same way, others don’t see you working. But in the end, they’ll see the result. And you’ll feel the result too. But if you don’t take that step you don’t end up with gems like these. You just end up with an eroded dingy rock.” You look up at Hotch and he’s tearing up slightly. Your heart melts. “Do you want a hug?” you say. 

“You don’t have to--” 

You cut him off. “No one on earth gives hugs because they have to. I want to give you a hug if you want one. So do you want a hug?” 

He nods, fastly. So you stand, he follows suit and allows you to pull him down into a full embrace. Your arms around his neck and shoulders, he envelopes you fully into his torso, arms tight around your waist. You sigh, content. Before shaking yourself out of it. This wasn’t about you. No matter how right it felt. 

After a minute or so you break apart. You look him in the eyes and he’s staring back at you in what feels like admiration. You clear your throat. “Can I give you something?” you ask.

“Is it another crystal?” He asked back. 

“Yes, it is.” You rummage through the box before pulling out the one you needed. “This is Aragonite, it’s good for healing old wounds and building emotional strength. Now I can gift you this but you have to activate it yourself. Even if you don’t believe it, I feel like it’s good words to hear yourself say anyway.” You grab his left hand, sliding the crystal into it. He looks into your eyes. “Now say, I release past wounds and embrace resilience.” 

Hotch sighs. “I release past wounds and embrace resilience.” He then slides the stone in his pocket. Before grabbing your hand again. “Thank you, Y/N” 

“Anytime, Grumpy.” You say.  

Taglist: @megatrexus @roses-and-grasses​ @tittymuncher69​ @liaabsurd​ @ladyravenclaw​ @genevievedarcygrangerreading​ @softbibxtch​ @xxdisappearwithoutatracexx​

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

May i request a hc or fic of Liora, Zhora and Vivienne finding out that their girlfriend has been psychologically/emotionally abused by their parents.

VIVIENNE WARNINGS APPLY: Mentions of Homophobia, external and internalized Mentions of Strict/Bullying parents. Mention of Conversion Camp -  Drugging, Negative association therapy, IMPLIED forced masturbation, illness and cane usage. Mention of controlling, forceful, cheating partner. Self Blaming. Spoilers for route. A writer trying a hand at serious Angst. WRITTEN BY @evoedBD +++++++++++++

How many times could she do this? How many times would she dash herself upon the rocks and drive Silvana to raise the shield between them? How many times would her own actions lead to that one-word spilling from gorgeous lips?

“Red.”

The word was safety. A shield. An absolute. It was the uncrossable line, a barrier reinforced by projected personas and deadly kisses. It was woven into a portrait of femininity, as delicate and deadly as any nightshade. It was warmth from the cold, comfort from leering eyes that aimed to feast just below the hemline of short black dresses, or dip beneath the shadowy garbs of lace. Now, safety was turned against her. Such a simple word suddenly tore at her heart, became the blood staining her hands as she attempted to understand how she had plunged the knife into the loving artist’s heart. Was this the price she had to pay to keep any form of happiness? Was she to continue to devastate those she cared for most just to feel a slither of comfort?

There was nothing she could do but freeze. She was rendered helpless in the face of Silvana’s tears; a net trying to hold the tide at bay. Silvana’s tears did not come with violent sobs and reaction, that was perhaps what was most terrifying of all. Silvana’s tears were fat, plummeting from her eyes, down her cheeks and off the point of her chin to mix with the paints laid out before her. They were so silent, so defeated that Vivienne felt as if she were struck. Vivienne trembled so violently long legs could no longer hold her. She dropped her rump to the floor, sliding down the wall until her knees were tucked protectively against her chest. Crushing her breast to her heart, as if the pressure could stop sorrow flooding her veins with every steady beat. Silently, she waited, watching Silvana simply mix the paints. Mix, and mix, and mix… lost in the simple action, as if her mind was elsewhere. The glaze to her chocolate eyes was not that glaze of looking into a world only she could see, was not the fogginess of an artist bringing a vision to life. This was darker, enough to shadow the vibrance usually seen across Silvana’s face.

“I was 14.” Silvana finally broke the silence. Vivienne lifted her head, body instantly on alert, ready to leap into the fray to battle off the demons haunting Silvana… except, she couldn’t. Memories had no physical form, nor consciousness to battle. To fight them would be to lay hands on Silvana; to play cruel mind games with Silvana. That was not something Vivienne was prepared to do, not again.

“I’m Cuban American, you know this.”

Vivienne could only nod. Of course she knew this, the information had not been difficult for a world class thieving gang to acquire when scouting for their forgery artist.

“Dad was born in the states, so he was a little less strict, but my family is religious. Highly religious. Old school, even. I was 14 when I made the mistake of talking about this girl I’d seen. I didn’t know I was bisexual then, or why I was so drawn to her, only that she was beautiful and funny, and her laugh made my stomach flutter and I couldn’t get her off my mind. My parents wanted to help, they were scared I would go to hell, that the Devil had me. My uncle and the pastors convinced them I was beyond prayer. That only the most faithful could save me… so my parents sent me to conversion camp.” Silvana stopped, lips quivering, breath laboured. She closed her eyes against the flood of memories, taking a deep breath to centre herself.

“Sil-” Vivienne never even got to finish that name before said woman cut her off.

“Vivi. Please. If you talk…” Silvana’s voice broke. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

“I need to just get through this.” The artist pleaded; it was not the type of begging Vivienne would ever wish to hear fall from her lips. The seductress was once more robbed of her words when she gazed at Silvana’s face. The light was gone, as if trapped behind glistening layers of frosted glass which dulled chocolate eyes. Full lips fell into a frown, burdened by the weight of everything Silvana needed to say. It was enough to slice through Vivienne’s thick skin, to pierce her heart. At Vivienne’s meek nod, Silvana took another deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to reveal.

“Camp was… they drugged me. They deliberately made me ill as they showed me… or they forced me to… sin. Sin until I was sick. If I didn’t, the Nuns had canes and…” Silvana swallowed, shaking her head violently, as if she could dislodge the nightmares. Vivienne was almost sick. A hiccup of a sob escaped her. Her hand flew up to her mouth, covering her horrified expressions and stifling the wounded sounds about to escape on Silvana’s behalf. If only that was all Silvana had to say, all she’d endured. Unfortunately, Vivienne could already see, already knew that it was the iceberg in an ocean of abuse in the name of therapy.

“I can’t…” Silvana’s whisper was bittersweet. Selfishly, Vivienne was thankful. She hadn’t used her most waterproof makeup, and anymore was bound to turn her into a blubbering mess. Or a vengeful demon upon the church. The world was not ready for the vengeance she could plan, even without laying a finger on a single soul. Even if she had to charm and seduce every Priest, every Nun and even the Saints themselves. She would have them crooning their sins as ballads, confessing how many victims there were of their crimes… and if they did not? The Poppy had the power to make those crimes a reality, and to seize their treasures while they were at it.

“Once I got home, my parents kept treating me as if I was sick. If I mentioned any girls, Mom would make me spend hours praying to a painting of Jesus. Dad just… he blamed himself. Thought that all the stories he taught me to love took me from God. Everybody at school and Church knew. Lots of them made jokes about it all the time. I was so scared and disgusted and confused, but I couldn’t ask anybody for help. I couldn’t trust them. I prayed. Every day I prayed so hard for those feelings to go away. To not look at some women and… want them in the way I wanted some men. I kept looking for guys, the type of guys a good Godly woman should want, but there weren’t any. Until I got a summer job with one of my father’s friends, working with his son. We were both adults, but he was older and had a very, well, “strong” personality.” Silvana’s tone left little to the imagination. Vivienne, for all her twenty-six years of emotional and physical conditioning, couldn’t resist flinching. She didn’t want to hear it, hear what she already had her suspicions had happened. She knew Silvana had faced mistreatment, the artist had confessed as much after doubting Vivienne, arguing in the streets of Saint Petersburg. She’d confessed to small things which had damaged her trust, and those little things were enough for Vivienne to see red all over again. The Seductress bristled, pressing her back to the wall as she braved the storm Silvana was unleashing. It was better this way, that Silvana was not alone in the floods anymore. They were family, and Vivienne was all too willing to cast aside the sickly feeling in her gut to give Silvana a moment of peace.

“He saw how I looked at some of the boys my age, and some of the girls too. He was the first person aside form Claudia who wasn’t mean about it. He was really charming and kind, a little controlling, but it wasn’t like what I’d seen on TV. I didn’t realise it was so bad. He’d bring me flowers and wear this dapper suit to Sunday mass. He supported my arts, even would buy me these lovely paints. But it was always his way, you know? Every time he wanted something, we did it. I was too scared to ask for help, so it went unchecked. It just kept escalating. At first it was little things, like letting him pay or going where he wanted to on dates. Then it was what he wanted to eat, or the dress he wanted me to wear. Then it was he wanted me to… service him. Eventually, he wanted full blown sex. I kept saying I wasn’t ready, and he didn’t force me, but he kept trying to convince me. Kept pushing, until it was easier just to agree than come up with reasons not to. He wasn’t mean or rough, just pushy. I told my parents, but they wouldn’t listen to me. The devil had touched me, and I had to pray it away. His dad was so respected in the Church, he was too, and it wasn’t like he forced me, right? He just made some comments and I just caved. Whatever he wanted. He kept me on my knees like a good little girl, like a nun for God he used to say… until my mother caught us. Then I was tempting him, I was threatening to expose him if he didn’t do it. He was already going to marry me, so he agreed to fooling around out of wedlock to save me from the Devil.”

“He sounds positively charming.” Vivienne commented dryly. Her face contorted into a vicious frown, eyes almost firing lasers in her outrage on Silvana’s behalf.

“Yeah, well, not two weeks after we left for college, he was sleeping with other girls. He thanked me for being such a good girl for him, for getting him out of his home and taking the heat for him. Turns out, he had a flock of eager girls. They all kept quiet because they saw how the Church cast me out. I was just a scapegoat and a means to an end. I was easy.” The Cuban artist shrugged her shoulders, as if she could deflect her pain like water off a duck’s feathers. She couldn’t conceal how her lips shivered, parting around painful breaths she tried to keep silent. The flowing floral dress didn’t conceal how her sides heaved, nor how her shoulders caved. Accepting. Defeated. It was not a look Vivienne ever wanted to see again.

“Silvana. What he did was unacceptable.” There was nothing else Vivienne could say. She longed to. In every language she knew, she longed to cuss and spit until her voice left her and her throat was raw. Until she tasted blood for everything Silvana had endured. Perhaps she could ask Zoe to find this man, then pay him a visit. Be the worldly seductress of his dreams, only to cast him into deathly nightmares with her poisoned kiss. Members of the Poppy had built immunity to her poisons, to her charms and games, but the one who had hurt Silvana? Vivienne knew his type. He would be easy. Effortless.

“I didn’t know how to say no back then. I had so much catching up to do once I got away from the strict religious family. My first girlfriend dumped me after a few months. The Art Chic was adorable and sexy, but she wasn’t looking for a project. She didn’t want to deal with the religious guilt. She wasn’t in it for the long haul. That’s ok, I mean, I needed to learn more about myself too. But, I kept finding those types of partners. Pushy, looking for something casual and easy, not treating me respectfully. Maybe that’s why the Poppy didn’t bother me too much, it wasn’t personal or vindictive.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were careful and considered, gifted to the artist with the utmost sincerity. Vivienne’s manipulation had perhaps been the most personal of all, even if it was for different reasons. For weeks, months even, she had helped stalk the artist. Gathering information. Assessing her talents, her position, her life. Nausea struck Vivienne’s gut like a tsunami, rising like the tide up her throat. Every breath she claimed was like breathing through a hurricane in her lungs. She had probably seen those people. Ones who had hurt Silvana. Those who had convinced the artistic wonder that she was not good enough to succeed. Vivienne had been so close to them, close enough to have dealt with them. To have spared Silvana some of this pain, possibly, and she’d done nothing.

“Viv. You didn’t manipulate me like they did.” Silvana offered comfort, though Vivienne found it lacking. Weak. Dishonest. Vivienne Tang most certainly had manipulated. Everything was so beautifully orchestrated, the melodic notes in a lifelong melody, falling into place like aligned dominos. From their first meeting, Vivienne’s purred compliments, the touch of pearls. Vivienne had played the role to a fantasy, the worldly, older woman leading a young artist into a world of glamour, of crime and mystery. She’d played the role as if she were to be upon the silver screen. The mentor. The romantic interest. She’d let Silvana think her much older, let Silvana drown in the mysteries she wove. Any romance upon the screen needed to end with a kiss and a tragedy, and Vivienne had delivered to perfection. Poisoned lipstick, the whisper of an apology in her throat. How was this not like the others who’d used Silvana in the past?

“I played with your emotions, poisoned you, then abandoned you in a strange city.” Vivienne pointed out, guilt turning her tongue to led. She wished she could claim her guilt was because she was, somewhere, deep down, a good person. That she regretted using the Artist like she had because it was not the kind thing to do. However much she wished she could deflect that crime to her duties to the Poppy, she could not. Not fully. That had been her choice and hers alone. Her panic when someone had grazed the walls around her mind and heart. Someone had gotten under her scales. That was precisely it. Silvana had worked her way into the hearts of the tight knit Poppy, had earned her place amongst their little family. Vivienne only felt guilty because it was Silvana specifically. A girl she was attached to. Loyal to. Someone in her heart, nestled alongside Nikolai, Remy, Jett, Leon and Zoe. Had Silvana not infiltrated her heart, Vivienne would never even batter an eyelid. She was, after all, a selfish creature. A viper who took what she wanted and left the corpse to the vultures to pick over. Left her marks for lesser thieves to squabble over like starved wolves.

“Yeah, that hurt, I can’t lie. But Viv, we worked through everything. I chased you, The Poppy, half way around the continent to do it. And I won’t lie and say we had it easy, but we got there. We faced it. We’re ok. We’re a team, family. I don’t hold any of that against you. Just, your comment, this piece. The heist. It brings back memories.”

“You are so much bigger than all of them. Silvana Mendo, you have painted your name across the world. Your forgeries hang in some of the finest galleries, fooling the greatest critics and adoring eyes by the thousands, still undiscovered years later. All those people who doubted you are meaningless fools. Please, zaika, do not let them drag you from the stars.” Vivienne’s voice was gentle, her pleading sincere. She lowered her knees, shifting until she was kneeling close to the artist, a devotee at the feet of a deity. The way Silvana’s lips curled into a sad smile was lancing; left Vivienne’s emotions bleeding from her in the form of answering tears. Eyeliner ran like charcoal down ashen cheeks, mirroring what she was staring at. She longed to fix this, wished she had the answers to make everything better. All she had were pretty words. Pretty words and small gestures.

“I know, but it isn’t always easy to feel like I know it. You’ve helped me become a more confident version of myself. Taught me how to fend those people off. Just, some days it feels as if my insecurity will break me.”

Vivienne scarcely registered removing one of her long silken gloves, only that her fingers felt bare against her poisoned lips. Her deadly kiss, meant with the most pure of intentions. It was stupid. As if such a minor gesture could give anything back to Silvana. As if it could mend wounds. The best it could so was send her loopy once the poison soaked into her pores. Vivienne caught her hand half extended, reaching towards the light, trying to drag it back into the Artist’s soul. She froze. Was she truly worthy? She had acted just the same as people who’d hurt the Cuban, what gave HER the right to try to fix it. One look at Silvana gave her the answer. It was so simple, as sure as the sun rose and set. As sure as the ground was beneath their knees. Silvana gave her the right, even without uttering a single word. Deep brown eyes implored Vivienne to close the distance, to try to tend to these gaping wounds. Both women watched Vivienne’s hand tremble as she closed the distance. A gentle brush of fingertips, delivering intent without risking a lipstick stain. Then, Vivienne was lost, running long fingers through frizzy hair in an effort to pull it away from a damp face. To reveal the beauty it was currently concealing.

“Then I’ll do my best to piece you back together. As many times as I must.” Vivienne vowed, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her gloved hand lifted, gently curling around Silvana’s cheek. With her removed glove Vivienne dabbed at Silvana’s cheeks, wiped her runny nose, fretted over every smudge of paint. She remained there, dabbing delicately at the mess until Silvana’s tears ran dry. Until fussing earned soft laughter and playful comments. It was a far cry from Silvana’s most joyful, but it was a step. Vivienne already knew this would happen again. These dark memories would eat at the Artist, but Vivienne was determined to hold on. To keep the pieces together, even if it meant her own hands were sliced open. Even if it hurt. For all the treasures she had seen, all the riches she had stolen, nothing could compare to Silvana. The angel on her shoulder. The woman who embodied safety. The being who was her safe haven.

If Vivienne Tang had to bleed for something, she chose Silvana.

Every. Single. Time.

[divagonzo]

I have a problem and I don’t know what to do. So my family planned a trip to Disneyworld for September (to celebrate we’re all 2x vaccinated) but then news starting talking about rising Delta Variant cases and my dad is this close to cancel the trip because he’s afraid we could get infected and like we’re been super careful and none of us gotten COVID-19 all this time so I don’t know what to do- he says we can go later but Florida being Florida full of stupid antivaxxers it might be years and years before it’s “100% safe” and I really was super excited to go :C is there any thing I can do ??

Good evening Nonnie! My, what a conundrum.

Long answer under the read-more line.

TL;DR - It's a complicated answer to a very fluid, complex situation.

The first bit I'm going to address is the last part before I get the rest of it. Sadly, you're right that there's plenty of stupid anti-vaxxers out there. (My family isn't a part of it! Hubs had it before he was eligible for the vaccine and the rest of us got the jab. None in my family are anti-vaxx. All but 2 of my close friends are vaxx'd (and both of them are going on the advice of their personal medical doctor - or in one's case, all 4 of them since they are in fragile health.)

However, the issue of 100% safe is a fallacy even in pre-pandemic times. The most it might eventually mitigate to is 97% safe. Florida has some weirdos even in normal, regular times. O_O Things happen*** that makes any time you get out of bed potentially disastrous.

Bear in mind I'm not risk adverse. I do plenty of dumb shite stuff even now at my age - but risking infection from Covid and the Delta variant isn't it. The spouse and I flew to Florida in April, after he'd fully recovered from it - and I'd had my first dose - to go see his Mom. We determined that the risk flying down on a 6am flight to Florida to spend the week with her was of utmost importance for her mental health. (Enormous boon for her, that we came down to visit.) We normally drive but the time and potential vectors I couldn't account for made the decision an easy one. We cancelled our trip last March to go see her at the last minute since she's part of the most vulnerable demographic and I wouldn't/couldn't risk her health for this (I'd been watching the news for six weeks and only cancelled the trip 2 days before we were to leave because of seeing this oncoming tsunami.) She was upset but I am thankful that we did.

I'm glad we did skip because she thinks she had it last March and would be have been sick while we were down there (like can't get off the couch to go to bed sick can't sleep flat sick 102 fever sick - and my SIL is a doctor and didn't know for certain and we still aren't all for sure.)

SIL made sure she had the first doses available at her hospital for the MIL after the medical staff got theirs.

Ask yourself if the trip is worth it for the potential of bankrupting your savings if you get it bad enough to end up sitting in the E/R for days because there are no staffed beds available to treat you. Will it happen? I dunno. I'm far from a seer. But ICU utilization rates right now are off the chain.

I do know how to do risk analysis.

What to do?

I'd speak with Dad who is, by in large, properly concerned because of large crowds, long lines, and too many damn people around. Y'all aren't the risk but the other dumb sods are. You might be properly masked and still might receive it from somewhere (since this is transmitted via aerosolization and viral loads being around someone for an hour) and there's always one dumb schmuck who won't be smart, wise, or prudent and will go among the crowds spreading this thing. There's plenty of horror stories of someone getting it from a mass event - many legit, some spreading vile miscommunication - and others who are sociopaths who have no care 'cept about themselves. They are the ones begging for the vaccine who are about to get a nasty tube down their throat to try and survive this mess - praying to whatever deity will listen to spare them from being permanently disabled.

The risk is there but being smart is that the risk is small. It will never be 100% risk-free.

The other bit is this - September is the ending of the tourist season, It's not as crowded as it would be in June/July/August (but surprisingly December is busy because of the parades and such.) It won't be as crowded - but still busy enough. Being outside, in the sunshine, and not in confined spaces does well. Let me reiterate that being outside, in the sunshine and not in confined spaces is the safest option. It's only if you're stuck in confined spaces, like attraction lobbies for an hour that becomes a problem.

I'd speak with Dad (respectfully) and ask what y'all could do to go enjoy the trip, go live, and still be smart about things. My sister and nibling went back in March down for a week and stayed smart, masked up, carried anti-bacterial handwash, cleaned down the room when they got there, and came home without an issue.

No problems for them.

That was before the rise of the Delta Variant that is more infectious even if the death rates aren't as high (but are plenty high enough!)

I know you want to go. Everyone is sick and tired of being home, being responsible, while other mouth breathing knuckle dragging troglydikes are out being dumb fucks and you wonder why they have a deathwish. I don't blame you being antsy to go live, too.

But being in a hospital 2 states away on O2 therapy with this mess (and the medical staff on the verge of breaking!) isn't a wise investment, either. A hospital ICU stay 2 states away will bankrupt every middle class family.

Personally? Unless someone in the immediate family is immunocompromised (or in fragile health) where they can't get the vaccine and you have an absolute moral obligation to protect them, you have to judge the risk of immediate gratification versus delayed gratification wondering if that will ever come about. I would change plans and go somewhere else away from crowds and have fun while not being packed like sardines on rides and other Disney stuff.

What are the odds? 5%.

That's 1 in 20.

What is the family mental health worth balanced against the potential of being in the ICU and possibly permanently disabled?

It's 5%.

Me? I'd go - and keep all of the suggestions available (including spare masks for everyone!) and go enjoy yourselves. But then I'm not risk adverse. I analyze the risks and make an informed decision. Being smart is staying masked up around others, washing your hands often, and alcohol handwash too. Even out grocery shopping now I'm masked up and cleaning everything down, knowing that there is the potential of a super-bacteria bug that might develop from this mess of vital cleaning.

But your family situation is probably vastly different than mine is, with dear daughter starting her PhD program and my Mom hasn't moved in yet. If she's moved in, my answer is wholly different because I have a moral obligation to look out for her - and that is living smart.

***Why do I say that it's never 100% safe? I have a story that I never want to tell, of what I saw a few years ago on I=75 on the way down to WDW - of a family that was on their way there and.... well, to spare everyone's sensibilities, the entire family didn't make it there or return home. O_O

[belovedrival]

Sorry this is all a blargh kind of post but this is how I feel right now:

My grandpa died last Thursday. To support my dad, I went to my parent’s house on Friday and stayed until today. I’m glad I went (my aunt and uncle were there too) but when I got home I felt completely overwhelmed.

Mister’s school had a baby shower for us on Friday, which was very loving and generous, but the nursery, which was very clean and organized, looks like a wreck again. And there’s more things that need washing. More things to do.

I’m tired of people telling me (whether in jest or being serious) that my house will never be clean again - oh, and I’ll never get enough sleep for at least a decade. It’s not helpful. Or funny. Seriously, either shut up or give constructive advice.

Every room - and I mean EVERY room in the house - needs organization/cleaning/something done. It makes me even more tired to think about it. I put away clean clothes a little while ago - that helped to feel like SOMETHING is being done.

There’s been a mix-up, on my end, over who’s parents will be here when after Wiggles is born. I thought my in-laws would be here a bit early, but nope - now it sounds like they’re waiting on my parents. Which is okay on the one hand, because my parents are a couple hours away, but on the other it’s not okay because my brother and sister-in-law are also expecting a baby very soon, and my mom told me this morning that she has plane tickets to go to their house on March 21st. So now I’m like...okay, I thought THAT part of organizing help for the first couple weeks was done, but it’s not. Add that to the list.

Grandpa’s funeral is next Saturday in Missouri, where there’s basically no Coronavirus restrictions unless the family calls for it, and my dad’s side of the family is not on the whole, people who call for it. And of course every second cousin within driving distance has been invited to come - to the funeral, the meal afterwards, and the grave side military ceremony. Mister’s been asked to be a pallbearer and this is my last living grandparent, so my inclination is to go because I know I would regret not going to my Grandpa’s funeral in a month, in a year, in ten years. People might feel differently but this is an event where it only happens once. There’s no way to do it later. I have zero input over the plans because they were all made by Friday afternoon and I didn’t find out about them until Friday evening. I’m not scared of getting Coronavirus but what I *am* scared of is Mister getting it, or testing positive, I go into labor, and then I’m forced to give birth without the one person allowed to be with me. We could mask, but I have to be realistic: there won’t be social distancing and we can’t keep our masks on while eating (obviously).

And I hate even thinking of all this, because I feel like I should be remembering Grandpa, and instead I’m feeling resentful that two of the last weekends before my due date have been completely devoid of doing anything substantial at home, and the list of things to do keeps getting longer, and people keep saying very sweet things like how good I look, while inside I feel like an ungrateful bitch because I’d prefer a cleaning crew or house elves to organize my house over their compliments, so I don’t keel over from stress.

One of my coworkers is off later this week. I can’t take time off to do stuff at home. I feel like this is my last realistic week to get anything done work-wise.

Did I mention I’m pretty sure I felt real contractions - not Braxton Hicks - over the last couple days?Nothing consistent but...let’s add to my stress, la la la la la...

Tomorrow is my pre-registration at the hospital, and I’ve got another appointment with my doctor, and another NST. I’ve got two NSTs a week scheduled for the duration, on Mondays and Thursdays. This coming Friday I have another ultrasound. Fingers crossed Wiggles is still head down.

And now Mister is on the phone because another student tested positive. At least this time he’s not as worried because 1) this student, unlike the last positive case, wasn’t crawling all over him (literally) yesterday and 2) he and the entire staff got their first shots yesterday. For what it’s worth.

Argh. I hate feeling tugged in two. But Wiggles, and us, come first. I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow and explain the situation, and ask if/what’s the wise thing to do.

I want, desperately, to be there when Grandpa is laid to rest. Fuck Coronavirus, fuck how much everyone’s been divided over the response to it this past year. I’ve never been an absolutist about it - I do not think it’s reasonable to expect those with little to no risk to quarantine for months on end; nowhere in history were healthy people expected to behave as though they were sick. Neither do I think it’s right to just go on with things as though it’s 2019; I wish it was, but it’s not. If we pull the trigger and say we’re not going I can just hear what my sister will say. My brother and sister-in-law aren’t coming; they say they want to avoid a situation like they had with my nephew G, when they barely made it to the hospital before he was born. Driving eight hours one way isn’t something to put my SIL’s mind at ease. I get that. And, of course, there’s Coronavirus. My sister is half convinced that R simply doesn’t want to travel to Missouri (though my brother’s family plans on going to the beach later this summer, pandemic or no pandemic) - and she (my sister) might be right.

Thank God that my mother said before I left them today (with my father standing right there, nodding) that whatever we chose, they would support us. This still sucks.

Things will get done, somehow. Wiggles might decide to make his/her appearance this week and the whole conundrum is solved for us (though I’m going to hit 37 weeks this week and I’d rather cook for another week).

Oh, I can’t even getting too much into the guilt I feel over not writing/updating my fics. It makes me depressed thinking that I won’t get any time for that for the foreseeable future. I understand having a child trumps personal things, but I can’t help but mourn a little for my former life. I am not my mother - someone who poured her life into being “mom” and seemingly had very little/no other personal interests until we were out of the house. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be a mother; but there’s more than that one side of me. Does that make sense?

(My mom is a wonderful mom, by the way. She also is an excellent amateur photographer who I think could sell her pictures if she wanted to.)

Gotta end this rant/blargh somehow. I hope you all have a more peaceful evening.

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / SEPTEMBER 30, 2019 // larkspur lane/the whisper box

this post is a double whammy cause they have 2 eps happen in the same day if u can believe it (thats how awful judging timelines in this show is!!)

-"hi josh..." LMAOOOOOOO

-BESS just breaking in lmaooo how many god damn times does bess just shit the bed in this show

-LOVE her frowny face at nancys closet ("my expectations are low" lmfaoooo but this would totally be me)

-"bet she meant it metaphorically" okayyy but then why did lucy say that at all? i feel like theres defo more to this story, combined with josh's cagey behavior (part of which is to get nancy to stop looking into shit d/t him and karen but still)

-"they dont accept visitors unless they're family" .....🙂

-ace "youre really good at that" to bess i fuckin love this friendship with all my heart (also love their talk at the claw mirroring nick & nancys talk in the last ep)

-also PINK AND ORANGE BESS ARE U BLIND (also 1) why tf would nancy own this and 2) where would she wear it??)

-okay wtf is vampire dip

-"boss??" see this is what i meant yesterday about nancy ruining everything for nick/george

-god DAMN she sucks at dealing with this news lmaooo that emotional competency babey + love george literally agrees to help bc she feels bad (AND nicks immediate look of "you just reprimanded me for helping her last ep and i know why youre doing this rn" lmaoooo)

-LOVE george noticing nick "shout out to jean valjean" lmaooo once again nancy would never have noticed/commented on something like that

-"get the hell out of here" was this foreshadowing for an epic dad joke for these two eps? "how do you make holy water? you boil the hell out of it" 😂😂😂😂

-so what i dont get about the whole haunting is the ball + kids' laughter but its all the emphasis on "mr roper" the adult? wtf like what kind of entity is this

-"how did you ever have a solo career??" 😂

-okay amaya's hair is gorgeous here (also "you feel like a snack" ....👀) *ahhh so the reason bess feels so off balance is bc its like a top vs a top scenario

-has anyone who's ever been to prison confirmed this is what it looks like?

-love how ace is the only employee there when they all leave so he had to fucking close the place when he goes

-why does she take the whole file? time constraints? it'd be smarter to take pics + replace it (better sleuthing) but this place is clearly not well run anyway 😂

-so this is a pretty decent cover she invents but theres no way she would get away with it so easily for a real guard

-love how ace recognizes ryan's car (+ is able to find it by driving around)

-"my father wouldnt do anything like that" LMFAOOOOOO SIS WHY ARE U DEFENDING HIM ironically, ace is actually the best person suited to engage w ryan here d/t the car accident + connection with laura being ryans SIL. its a unique set up

-i am fascinated by the concept of priests + holy water being so effective here combined with mcginnis' beliefs and basically nondenominational ghosts/seances etc after that. the show is very clearly big on diversity but definitely steers clear from too much WASP stuff yk? wonder if other stuff from christianity works against the ghosts/demons like taking refuge in a church "holy ground" or using silver etc

-"did this start after the night of sept 10?" *this is where you get the time line for the seance if you didnt know

-this is so fucking funny when u realize that patient sal talks to is actually a ghost so sal really is psycho i guess 😂

-bitchsplain/tall jar of mayonnaise 🙏🏻😌 2gether 4ever

-how did ace get this van? also heart attack when he yells at carson (but then grins at him like a goofball lmaooo)

-"for nancys sake and yours" damn she owes ace big time for all this shit

-"what do we do for 7 minutes?" ...ummm play 7 minutes in heaven lmaooo 👀🥵

-was not expecting ace to look this sexy holding an axe but okay (*ah, its his short sleeve shirt showing his arms. usually hes a sleeves guy)

-"desperate for attention" nancy (from gomber) vs "bc she's starved for attention" patrice --> lucy (and candace also...) we know nancys detective work makes her seem like an attention seeker, but what was lucy doing to make them all think that? she was trying to hide her relationship with ryan, not expose it. unless they just mean the rumors about her?

-so is patrice hiding lucy's "truth" talking about lucy being a whore or lucy being a ghost? what is lucy's secret? did patrice guess she was pregnant or did patrice's somehow garbled mind remember tiffany trying to show patrice the video with lucy on it?

-wonder what captain thom thinks of this stand off w ace lmaooo

-"like you do?" top v top shenanigans

-how awko for carson to talk to karen again like this

-"oh no" ACE 😂

-love how amaya says "be a human" like shes kind of admitting people in rich circles typically arent (^this is an interesting focus in s2 when bess's rich family rejects her, thus making her human again, but nancy embraces her rich fam and experiences subsequent moral struggle which is predicted with the wraith)

-wonder what ryan thinks he could get from the marvins (which he cant get now lmaooo)

-this damn whisper box. so many questions. who named it the whisper box? why are the ropers' old possessions still there? who decided to build a mental hospital on top of it? and patrice! she "hid lucy's secrets" hannah gruen thinks tiffany tried to show patrice video w lucy on it, which patrice then specifically says she hid in the thin mans book. so patrice knows of the thin man? can she see him? does she know he was a ghost/supernatural? she must have a supernatural sense to know about him (unless sal told or some shit) so then when tiffany shows up w/ lucy being supernatural in it patrice hides it to protect her? is this why she is "crazy" kinda like victoria? supernatural elements or ability to sense ghosts makes her unstable? this is why lucy being a ghost/nursery rhyme that she repeats makes patrice worse/"stroke"? how did patrice even get into the whisper box to put the key in the bible and get out without getting trapped? also, her dementia --> lucidity is really fucking off, some people mildly switch like that but usually with dementia they cant even register new shit anymore

-...so did bess take the ride? 👀

-interesting how celia says "your father will be disappointed" but nothing of her own opinion. wonder how much celia truly puts up with to keep everett calm and nonhomicidal

-like george asking nick follow up questions that nancy never really would have asked

🥞🥞🥞(ep13)🥞🥞🥞

-is this bitch just eating a plain pancake with her bare hand?

-"extra case load and excessive volunteering" ugh. nancy's family here are like, gross in how "good" of people they are // unrealistic, trying to paint carson in the best light/ no way ryan could ever compare (but the reality is theyre not that good of people for lying about nancy) **and shes arrogant to think shes better than everyone else ie the only one who truly lives virtuously, thinks she can do no wrong sometimes even tho using sex to cope, breaking and entering, etc is not morally "good" stuff she still thinks she is the only one who doesnt lie and plays fair (like in the pilot she lists everyone else as a suspect but herself- obviously we know she isnt guilty but no one else does. (i mean in theory we really dont, what if nancy was an unreliable narrator and was actually guilty, that would be a hella cool show)its reactions like that where she cant understand why others like the chief suspect her

-ooooh ironic that in the Good Place carson readily agrees to pay her for helping with cases as opposed to s2 in reality

-nick's house has "problems" so why does he need a lawyer? as opposed to an interior designer, plumber, or realtor?

-in the Good Place nick and george realize they are not going to work out after one date. does this failure in the Good Place predict failure in reality, or merely an easier way of figuring out the truth? does this mean that the "opposite" of the Good Place is reality, or only an opinion of what is better? (nancy says "you all like me" as her opinion of them liking her is skewed; does this then only reflect nancys version for what is the "perfect life"?)

-why is bess a hippie??? and love how george curls her hair and wears pink lipstick here

-if this dream is so realistic then why is the one thing it cant conjure smoke? like how random

-love the locket being a key realization bc with things like jewelry you dont notice the weight of them until theyre gone

-"you all like me" in her perfect life nancy means they "like" her objectively/regardless of circumstance even though liking her is still an objective choice (like they "like" her because of other reasons instead of her working at the claw? (like how you make friends with coworkers/people at school every day but after you leave the job/graduate you never speak to them again) and her "thanks for showing up!" as if theyre not doing exactly that in reality 😐like where is she getting this shit? she sort of acknowledges in earlier eps she is hard to like/that she puts mysteries before friends, but also pushing them away to avoid danger like the previous ep "why do u show up" etc

-is it just me or does the inside of nicks "house" look like the drews'?

-nick has a dick scar lmaooooo (or more likely was hit in the balls or smth)

-love how nick + george match their anger in confronting sal 100% on the same level

-so when did ace go back to work after having such a busy day earlier?? lmaooo

-damn father shane is a creep (casting defo hired him for his voice) and how tf did he just poof + escape? and what did he request???

-love bess's white hair bow here 😌+ her jacket, whole outfit on point as usual

-like how bess is right that nancy has to find her way out but thats kind of a nonstarter for a room full of panicked people wanting to help

-in the Good Place theres no bad blood between drews + hudsons bc nancy is really theirs

-"the only one who has the key is you" in the Good Place nancy has the key (smaller picture, to finding out what happened to lucy but bigger picture, post-reveal) but ryan has the clues nancy needs- following the Good Place's mirroring, this just means that in reality ryan will either be completely useless or an active hindrance (but you KNOW this is a dream bc in what universe would ryan remember clues like that 😂)

-so in a perfect universe ryan acknowledges his family's "criminal empire" as opposed to reality where he only makes under cover jabs about disengaging with being an "entitled corrupt legacy criminal" ie finding the bonny scot relics but does nothing about them, etc

-"strippers" 😂

-okay what is nancys obsession w her beanie?? bc her mom made it? "wear beanies do crimes?" idk

-making the call: nancy -unable to make up for lost time/both her mothers had to find out/suffer alone / in the Good Place nancy was able to be with kate while she called, and in reality she had carson; somethig about seeing the mother looking to the daughter for strength in the Good Place instead of the reverse (which is what reality sounded like, kate being strong for nancy through the illness despite the struggle)

-concept: nancy & nick "let's wait out the storm"

-"i believe that you believe it" nick in the Good Place + owen in reality both trust nancy when she says she's seen things (owen's is the teeth) but nick in reality (and not really knowing details) doesnt think much of their "moment" bc it wasnt real (so she had to leave the Good Place to save carson- but if she had known then he wasnt her real dad, would she have stayed to be w nick?)

-stranger - suede james 💙👌🏻

-"really anxious as a kid" v telling bc of her desire to know everything to remain in control of situations like she always does now

-"the medicine or the metaphysics?"/"you cannot beat supernatural with science"

-i love nancy playing with her pinky while saying goodbye 🥺

-"always seek out the truth even if it hurts" this is straight irony bc kate never told nancy anything. like does that include the truth about nancys parentage? they taught her to seek out the truth, but who taught her that the truth is the only thing to live by? ie things dont count anymore like carson and kate straight up raising her is tossed out bc she finds out its not "the truth" like all that work/stress to protect carson + she just drops him? with kate maybe shes just upset thst she spent all that time mourning for someone who lied. and would she do the same to ryan if needed? probably

-bess and ace head tilt 💙

-like how for all the time she spent there nancy only has a subconscious memory of blue curtains

-YESSSSS i LOVEthese beautiful overhead shots of hannah's hands. so out of character for the show lmao but so gorgeous

-i feel like future eps/grand future will be nancy going through the lock boxes to help people who asked hannah for help

-the video is officially dated Aug 22, 2019

-soooooo in the first ep nancy breaks into the hudsons house and finds tiffanys secret drawer w the nail polish and finds the amulet with a note that says "for your protection HG" yet on this video tiffany says she talked to a medium who gave her the amulet sooooo am i just confused? HG is hannah gruen obvi so is the address for the medium what hannah gave her? or was the address on the amulet which nancy dissolved in salt water to see? so how would tiffany know where to go? its chicken and the egg which came first hannah or the medium?

and lastly:

i close these two eps with a thought that everything in this show is sealed in death. all the lies, the imagery, the fake constructs people put up to get by all crumple the second someone dies- all the secrets come clean just like these doors have been unsealed.

[malachitezmeyka]

I need to vent. So badly. I need to do it out loud because I’ve had enough of being stuck in my own thoughts

I need to talk to someone who’d actually listen, who wouldn’t chastise me or try to turn everything into a moral lesson or pretend like they know me better than I know myself

It’s why I can’t talk to my mom. Why do I have to live in a world where I can’t talk about my problems to my mom?

She doesn’t get me, not in a “I’m a moody teenager nobody understands me” kind of way, but in a “you know nothing about what I’m going through or crying about, why are you acting like just because you listen to instagram psychologists in your free time means you’re the most enlightened person on god’s green earth??”

I don’t have anyone I could go to. My mom’s out, who’s left? Not my little sister, definitely not my shitty dad. Who else? My grandma’s the reason my mom’s the way she is, so not her. My dad’s SIL is one of my most favourite people in the world but I don’t feel like I can come crying to her, she’s too blunt, too brutally honest. She’s helped me greatly before, but I’d go to her for any problem except emotional.

I don’t want to go to my friends. I already was the cause of a fight that ended a fourteen year friendship. I’ve already showed them that I’m extremely unstable and prone to hysterics. If I start openly crying to them about such seemingly minor things, they’ll get sick of me and I’ll lose them. I don’t know how to make friends. I don’t have anyone else.

And my problems are just so, so stupid. So inconsequential to anyone but me. Even for myself, all they bring are tears and headaches, and yet here I am, sobbing over them again and again, intentionally throwing myself down self hatred spirals that I know every curve of like the back of my hand, going throw the same thought processes that I know will make me upset.

Why do I keep doing it? Do I just like to make myself suffer? Have I no real problems?

If it wasn’t obvious, I’m once again being a whiny bitch about my art

We’ve been here a million times. My skills are nowhere as good as I’d like them to be, I’m complaining about it on tumblr dot com instead of taking steps to improve, when I try to talk about it and people give me actually good advice I get mad and hysterical because I’m not being validated in my useless, self-imposed suffering that will lead me nowhere. Yeah yeah, what else is new?

To get good at art you need to study. You need to look at what other people do, how they create art that you like, and try to learn from it. But whenever I look at people who are more skilled than I am, I turn into a fucking toddler. Why them?? Why are they better than me??? I get so irrationally angry that I literally only follow one artist, a… I suppose ‘friend’ is a nice term, though I don’t know how accurate it is. If it isn’t, then a mutual. And I get insanely jealous of her too, but I’m better at containing it. We don’t talk much, but I still don’t wanna ruin what little relationship we have because of my inability to process my emotions.

Honestly? I’m just tired. Completely fucking exhausted from all these tantrums I throw. It seems I say it so often lately, but I truly am sick of myself. The fits, the crying into my pillow until I get a pounding headache, the pushing everyone away because I can’t stand the embarrassing ordeal of being cared for… I don’t know how much more of it all I can take. I wish I didn’t exist.

My mom sat me down today when she noticed how I angrily shut off my tablet. I spent a year desperate for a shoulder to cry on, so I told her that I’m frustrated by my art, or rather, by the lack of it. I’ve told her before over the phone and she always started lecturing me about not giving up and trying and practicing and how the greats weren’t born great and all that stuff. I thought she’d be different in real life. She wasn’t.

She says I’m lazy. Says I don’t want to learn. That I don’t try. But I do. I try and I try and I try. I create canvases and start sketching and get frustrated and delete them and want to throw my tablet at the wall and snap my stylus in half… but I don’t stop trying. And sometimes, very rarely, I manage to draw something I’m happy with in the moment. Often I’ll think it should be killed with fire in a few days time, but it’s the moment that counts.

Mom tries to teach me theory she doesn’t know. She doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body, yet acts like she’s been drawing all her life. She tells me to trace over art books, to look at cartoons and movies and learn how expressions and poses work. No matter how much I yell, how much I tearfully explain that that’s not the main problem, that if I need to draw something I’ll figure out a way, she won’t listen. She can say she understands all she wants, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t get that I can’t physically visualise what I want to draw

I wanted to make some Green Opal art for a few days now. I’ve only drawn them four times before – walking side by side, sleeping cuddled up, Opal kissing Midori on the cheek and Midori holding Opal as she flips Suyin off. I tried thinking what I’d want to draw them like this time. Sitting together, one’s head on another’s shoulder? Actually kissing on the lips? Bending? Reading a book?

I tried to picture it in my head. I couldn’t come up with anything. I looked at dozens of references. Nothing seemed right. I read through lists of romantic interaction prompts. None of them inspired me. My mind’s eye was completely empty, and I don’t have aphantasia or whatever it’s called, I can normally visualise pretty much anything. But when it comes to art, it’s like someone slips a blindfold over it.

And say I did come up with what to draw – then what? Draw it? With my anatomy so wonky it could classify as body horror? My thick and lifeless lineart that suffers most from my heavyhandedness? My colours which I can never memorise the theory of? My shading which is basic at best and completely nonsensical at worst? And say I did manage to make something decent even with all of that added into the equation – then what? Post it and get a grand total of three notes?

I know art is first and foremost supposed to be for yourself, you’re supposed to enjoy making it and looking at it. But if I don’t, if I hate the process of drawing and the end result so much that sometimes I feel like killing myself over, what else is there for me to do but seek feedback? A spare like. A causal reblog with no added tags. There are days when those serve as my lifeline. Days when the hundreds of screenshots I’ve made over two and a half years of people saying nice things to me are the only things that keep me going. Even if 80% of those are things said by my friends, who are basically obligated to say nice things to me.

But if I hate art so much, why do I keep at it?

I don’t know

To prove something, maybe? To whom? My parents? Myself? Society? Probably not. I don’t have anything to prove

To leave my mark on the internet? To make myself feel like I’m doing something instead of just lazing about all day?

Am I just doing it by inertia because once upon a time a lonely middle schooler convinced herself she was gonna be an artist?

I really don’t know. If it doesn’t make me happy, what’s the point? If the number of people who interact with my art could be counted on one hand, what’s the point? If it drives me to going insane with screaming and crying at least once a week, what’s the fucking point?

I should just quit. It won’t be a big loss. Maybe then my mental health will actually improve, once I stop dragging it down into the gutter with every non finished piece that can barely count as being started

Quit writing while I’m ahead too. It’s not like I’ve written anything in a month anyway. And before that, it took me almost a year and a half to post something. It’s clearly not for me.

[prorevenge]

Exposing my SIL over her hating my family with a bit of help from Father Christmas.

Apologies for the long long length.

My twin brother (25) has been with his wife since we were 15, and they’ve been married for the last year. Since day one, my SIL hasn’t been a fan of my family. She and my brother met doing the same after school club, a club that my best friend happened to also be in. She always used to say that my SIL always complained about my family (my mother, father and myself) and how we all treated her terribly, though when asked, she would never go into detail… because there was no detail. In fact, for the first few years of their relationship, my SIL was the daughter my mother wished she’d had (which strained our relationship unsurprisingly, but not the time for that). She was happy enough to be around us, and my parents always made sure to include her on family occasions such as our birthdays. Since we’re all 15 and moody teenagers, if ever it comes up in conversation (my brother sulking about something and throwing out a line about how he understands why his girlfriend never wants to be around, or me and my mother arguing and me saying something about how the girlfriend hates her) it’s not taken as gospel.

The years go by and my brother and SIL stay together through universities 150 miles apart, and move in together at about the 6 year mark of their relationship. I lived at home for a year after my brother moved out, and during that time witnessed numerous occasions of my brother being around for a dinner that both him and his girlfriend have been invited to with just him attending for a variety of cheap excuses that have been cut short because SIL rings my brother up telling him he has to come home because of X, Y and Z. While some of these may have been genuine, every time he was around for over half an hour he got the calls and messages saying that her world was imploding if he didn’t come home right this instant. I think my parents politely excused the behaviour as young love, but it was an obvious shun. My mother especially was cut off - every month she’d invite SIL out for a girl’s day (either with or without me or other family members) and was always told no.

After the wedding, which none of our side of the family were allowed to be involved in (not an issue, though it was hurtful that we were told that nothing ‘family’ was happening eg. dances, speeches, but they in fact were with only SIL’s side of the family while we just sat there awkwardly), I got a few messages from mutual friends of myself and my brother asking what the drama was between us and SIL, who had evidently been telling people all night that we had been awful throughout the wedding process, and her and her new husband were on the verge of going no contact with us - something we hadn’t heard at all from my brother or her, since we were very much still in contact with them (well, him). A couple had thought it odd that she was saying this, and forwarded screenshots of SIL telling them full stories of complete lies about things that had happened between her and us - my favourite was the supposed time when my father (the most placid man in Britain) stormed around to their house demanding that they give him hundreds in cash to cover his gambling debts while my mother threw salt around their garden trying to kill the grass (no reason for this given) - my father has never gambled anything more than a couple of pounds on the lottery, they don’t have grass around their house to begin with, and most of all, my parents were both out of the country at the time with SIL sent the ‘omg you will not believe what [Brother’s] family just did!!’ message to at least two of my friends.

I’m not a petty person, and so didn’t go in all guns blazing, but the next time I saw my parents I said that it seemed like SIL was spreading potentially harmful lies. They both said they knew that SIL didn’t seem to like them, but had decided many years ago to try and kill her with kindness, if only to not give her any real ammunition against them. I decided to sit on what I had evidence-wise, unless SIL did something major.

The ‘major’ came over Christmas - for years and years, my brother and SIL had rotated between her family and my family. This year was supposed to be the day with my family. They live in the same town as both their families, so it wouldn’t be a massive journey for anyone to go anywhere. I live with my partner about half an hour from my family, and we were also going to be spending the lunch with my family (Partner’s family are from a country who do their main Christmas stuff on Christmas Eve, so we were seeing both sets of family over the period). We get there bright and early on Christmas Day to find my brother there alone. I ask where SIL is, and am told that she’s having a family emergency but will be over before the meal. No issues there, ‘family emergency’ or not. We all get to prepping the meal, and my brother’s phone is ringing the whole time. He stops answering after a period of time and a particularly long call prior that he went outside for, but confirms that it’s SIL, however it’s just her phone messing up and consistently calling the last number in the call list. A bit of a crap excuse, but whatever. The ringing eventually stops.

By this point, my brother’s off playing with one of my dad’s old cars and everything’s in the oven, so we chill out for a while, and look on social media at all the cheesy Christmas present posts. Myself and my partner are just scrolling away comparing friends’ presents, when my partner’s screen comes up with a post by SIL into a Facebook group called something like ‘Murderous Mother In Laws Support Group’ (we assume that we were blocked from seeing SIL’s posts, but she’d let my partner slip through the net) that had only been posted 5 minutes before. The post said something like:

---

‘DH is forcing me to go to his horrid family’s Christmas dinner. They make me do all of the cooking on my own but tell me it’s horrible; his sister even assaulted me last time I went to their house, and she’s just been kicked out of rehab so is back there again. I’m scared everyday that DH is going to believe their lies about me and leave me. I’d rather kill myself than do this. Can I get some support ladies?? ❤❤️ ❤️ ‘

---

Utter shit. We all cook, with my father doing the lion’s share if anyone could even be considered as doing more than average. I’ve never been addicted to any substance, and like my parents had said before, they never said a cross word about SIL to anyone so she couldn’t claim they did. This was it for me. I excused myself and went up to the office to print off copies of the messages she’d sent to friends previously, and the post in the group that my partner screenshot at my request. I printed off enough copies for everyone at the table (10 were there in total) and wrapped them all up in groups. I then stuck some labels onto them as being from ‘Father Christmas’. I slipped downstairs and put them under the tree, claiming they were some more gifts I’d found. (Just to say that everyone there was an adult, so there wouldn’t be a child thinking that Father Christmas was just an arse).

The day continues, SIL arrives and apologises for the delay, everyone says it’s not a problem, and the food gets cooked, served and eaten. We’ve always opened presents after lunch, so everyone gets set up with each other’s presents, as well as the ‘mystery’ Father Christmas present that everyone’s seemed to get. Someone eventually opens a Father Christmas present and starts to read, before asking SIL what she means by us being a horrid family. My parents, brother and SIL all quickly open theirs and read them through. SIL goes as white as a sheet and starts asking about who did this, but my brother tells her that she brought this on herself and has gone too far. My parents say nothing to anyone, and eventually SIL excuses herself. My brother says that since they day they started dating she’s decided that our family hate her and has spent years trying to prove it, ranging from the order their names are written in cards to the number of potatoes she’s served at a meal. She obviously has had no evidence since there is none. My brother had no clue about the messages or Facebook groups, but expected there to be many more. He decided to leave, apologised, and got into contact about half an hour later saying that they were both at home and stable (since the ‘kill myself’ part had worried my mother especially). I kept quiet about my role in this until everyone else had left. My mother suspected it was me, but said she was happy this would actually be out in the open. I apologised profusely for ruining the day before we left.

None of this was my finest moment, which I’m sure some of you reading will agree with. My brother has been in contact with my parents and me to further apologise for everything SIL has said and done, and said that he wasn’t making any rash decisions yet but they needed to sit and talk about everything. I’m sure some people will think that this is symptomatic of a bigger issue of control concerning my brother and his life and might be justifying SIL’s views on us, but I did this more out of anger at the situation more than at the person herself, and this is the first and only instance of any of my family being negative to her. I hope this has made her think about her choices, and that she can work on the reason why she had lied to herself and others for so many years.

(source) (story by 9899232)

[halfofxerxes]

Tonight though, an adult (a teenager?), someone anyway has crawled into his bed to spend the night. If he was more awake, there would be no confusion on who it was, but all his children were familiar to him and it didn't really matter beyond that. He folds them into his arms, quickly returning to sleep.

There's the vaguest feeling feeling of being talked at, and he hums slightly, trying to focus on what the words are being said. The child repeats themself, but it doesn't make anymore sense than it did in the beginning.

"...Dad…" Alphpnse says, speaking in Amestrian now, "Don't tell me you can't hear languages when you're asleep."

"You have an accent that obscures your words." Van mumbles, "I'm tired."

"Don't blame this on me, I'm trying." Al grumps, "How do you comfort the younger children?"

"During summer they go to Sil." Van explains,"I usually deal with the daytime problems, Sil's usually awake or a relief from the heat."

"He really does remind me a lot of Mom." Alphonse admits, "How caring he is to everyone, I mean. He's very kind."

"He likes to be kind." Van muses, "He was very isolated from everyone around him, and his guilt prevented him from reaching out, and now he has so much care he wants to give."

"Mm." Alphonse doesn't have a comment to that, instead getting more comfortable in his father's arms.

Van is about to fall asleep again, when Alphonse starts chirping at him again. He has to shake himself to stay up, letting out a long breath.

"Do you get scared?" Alphonse asks, "I mean… Scared about things that happened a long time ago?"

"Yeah." Van says, "All the time. It's not even guilt all the time, or sadness."

"...Is it normal to feel like this?"

That hits him. His eyes open, and he glances over to Sil's bed, seeing his husband is listening, though pretending to rest, for Alphonse's sake. He's sure that if Sil feels the need to interject, he will do so, but for now leaves it to Van.

"... For what happened to you? Absolutely." Van says, "Sometimes things hurt so badly the pain doesn't stop, or you convince yourself that the reason it does is because it's waiting around the corner for you."

"Can you read minds?" Alphonse asks, something in his tone catching in his father's ear.

"Al…" Van says slowly, rubbing his thumb across the back of his son's neck slowly, "Are you high?"

It occurs to him that he doesn't know if he's had a conversation with Alphonse about how some of the recreational drugs that he and Sil keep, such as the pot and some of their alcohol have an adverse effect not seen in the other adults on him, when taken in the wrong doses. He's about to go into it, but Alphonse shakes his head.

"No, Dad." He says dutifully, "It's just… that's exactly how it feels. Like I'll turn the corner and he'll be there. Or if I fall asleep I'll wake up to find I never really left, or I'm still in the armor and I can't really feel things properly, like I'm not really here and this body isn't mine--"

Al's distress is growing, and Van squeezes him tightly, soothing him as best he can, rocking him as if he were a little child.

"I know." Van finds himself saying, "I know, Al. I know."

It's true, he does know. He'd never dare say this to Sil, but the fact that he has an aura that leaks light into the room, keeping it from being dark has helped him many a night when he had expected to wake up in a confined, dark space, awaiting water to flood in and fill his nose and ears.

He knows that this desperate energy that Alphonse is expressing right now would have lead to a fight between them had Van displayed any tension at all, even well intending. It's not Al's fault, that desperation of feeling helpless reaches out and snaps wildly at anything that can give it a release, to ease it into anything that doesn't feel like acidic poison poured directly into his veins.

"Could you tell me?" Al pleads with him, "Please? Do you really know what it's like?"

Van falls still, not exactly uneasy, but offset by the request. Can he really share that with Alphonse? Would it be right to do so?

Would it cause more harm than good?

"I was born into it." He says finally, "It wasn't a shock to me when it started, because it never started. What was unexpected to me was it ending, and realizing that the world was so much bigger than I thought. That there was more than being in agony all the time, and yet… the absence of the agony felt more poignant and impactful than it being present."

"Like it is supposed to be there." Alphonse says quietly.

Van nods.

"I feel like it was a mistake that got me out of that life." Van says quietly, "I'm still waiting for someone to grab me and make me go back. I keep telling myself that I wouldn't go back, that I'd fight it, but… At the same time, the idea that I'd have to stop worrying about it seems morbidly relaxing. It's the worse thing I can imagine… which makes it devastating for me when other, greater bad things happen."

"Like Mom dying?" Alphonse asks, "Like being unable to stop the Dwarf?"

"Yeah." Van admits, "I had a vague notion about failing with the Dwarf, but the death of your mother, and everyone else was… inconceivable. I couldn't conceptualize you or your brother's death. Edward's death is still something that devastates me, sometimes I'm holding his body while I'm very clearly doing something else. It's like I never actually left that moment."

"I know what you mean." Al says quietly, "I have… so many moments like that, Dad. All the time. No matter where I am. The- the… when I was intimate, I was so upset, Dad. I wanted so badly to be with her, but I couldn't even focus on her, and all these awful things were running through my mind, and then it was over."

With how heavy those words feel, Van suspects that this is the reason why Alphonse had sought him out this evening.

"Do you remember how much of a mess you were when you met Sil?" Van asks quietly, "You were so mean to him."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alphonse says, "I'm so sorry. I don't even know why I do it, it's like I trip into something and I can't stop until it's done. I didn't use to be like this, Dad. I used to be able to control my actions, all the way through something."

He's an adult, Van. Sil has said that to him several times, usually exasperated at the latest thing Alphonse has pulled out of his hat, he's been alive long enough to recognise the impact of his actions.

So have I. Van had said, and there are still foolish things I do despite not wanting to do them.

It's different with you. I know why you do it.

Alphonse doesn't talk much about his life with the Dwarf, at least not to him. He tries to hide a lot of it, trying to move on and move past it, going to Sil rather than him.

He wonders if Sil had ever known that Alphonse had been convinced once, that Sil had wanted to send him back rather than try to deal with him. He closes his eyes, that old pain rushing back to the pit of his belly.

The pain of having the two people he loved for the longest amount of time convinced that the other hated them so much. To know that this nastiness isn't fading into memory, only waiting for a new situation to appear.

"She left me, you know. Their mother." Al says quietly, "One day she was chatting with me as always, and the next she was talking to someone else. We had been talking… well, I had been talking about what I wanted to do, and the next day she moved into someone else's house without even saying goodbye to me. I wasn't mean to her, Dad. I didn't want her to go. She seemed happy with me."

"Alphonse…" Van says slowly, not sure what he wants to say, "Look…"

"I didn't even tell at her when she sold the orb."

Orb?

The communicator orb thing? The one that Sil was complaining about being activated?

"I thought you said you lost it." Van prompts, trying to get the full story.

"I did, but then I found it, with her help." Al explains, "She- uh…"

Alphonse falls quiet, and Van starts thinking. So help him, he can't be right about what he's thinking.

"She wouldn't have happened to become pregnant in the time you spend searching, would she?" Van asks, trying to sound casual.

"Uh, yeah, actually." Al says, "How'd you know?"

"Call it father's intuition."

That explains why the word of the 'miracle' spread so quickly, Alphonse had been scammed. Of course he didn't know that for sure but--

"Only a few days after she gave birth I heard them overtaking about golden eyes and how they could use this to, I dunno, unite the dunmer or something? I got scared I guess but the next thing I know is I'm on a boat with my twins."

"You wouldn't have happened to tell anyone who the orb connected to, would you?" Van asks.

"Uh."

A long silence.

"I'm sorry."

That's something Sil's going to have to bring up later with Alphonse. Van doesn't want to imply that it is okay, but also doesn't want to guilt Al for being strung along by what he personally thinks was a con artist. Especially not when Alphonse is feeling so stupid already. It's no wonder that Alphonse has been so sensitive, being set up and manipulated…

Though… he would rather talk about it with Sil before coming to a conclusion. He opens his eyes, glancing over to his partner, catching a glint of red in return.

"Why do you guys have separate beds?" Alphonse asks, trying to change the topic. "I mean… why not have one big bed?"

"Sil's bed is big enough for the both of us and then some." Van says, "But it's still his. Sometimes it's hard to share, we'll be a little upset or I want to be warm, or I can't bear to be next to someone for the night. It also feels better to have a place that I can have to my own, even when I want to be close to him. It's very kind, I think, that he doesn't insist I have to sleep away from him if I can't sleep by his side."

"Oh."

"If that's everything, can I go back to sleep?" Van asks, "I am very tired."

"Oh… sure." Al says, "I didn't realize I was keeping you up."

"Yeah, that's because you haven't been thinking with your brain for a while." Van grumbles, "Now shut up and go to sleep."

[witchyinthekitchen]

This is a Vent Post about my Mother, Please do not reblog

This post is probably gunna be all over the place/time with things that I can remember/recall so bear with me here.

-Being told to make my own food bc mom was too busy with brand new baby (I was between 5-6 so poptarts were about all i could manage. I'd asked for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.) (my brother was a VERY finniky baby. If you weren't holding him he'd scream till his face went purple.))

-Tried to share interests in Anime/manga with her, when I asked her what she felt about it she said she couldn’t get into it and that it felt like a chore. (13-15 ish)

-Told her I needed therapy bc I was having suicidal thoughts. She took me, but then took me out once I started getting upset about the things i’d been talking about in therapy with my therapist because I'd come home in a bad mood.(15-16 ish)

-Went to Mother Daughter Group Therapy with her (there were other mother daughter combos) and she stormed out in the middle of it saying that we were only attacking her and not my dad too. (was 15-16 ish)

-Got into an argument about who i was voting for in the 2016 election while on vacation at Disney World (Hint it wasn't Trump like she wanted)(24 ish)

-Tried to gaslight me about trying to get everyone together to talk wedding stuff saying how she tried but that it all fell apart. (I have texts of her canceling it the day before we were all supposed to get together.)(26)

-Gets super defensive/upset any time I talk about “other mothers” in my life (MIL, BM)

-Has been super hot and cold with me during wedding planning and making passive aggressive comments about everything: Tell him to buy new pants for the engagement shoot 'bc I dont want him wearing baggy clothes -SO's Lost over 20lbs+ for the wedding and i'm so fuckin proud of him- “I don’t want to pay for hard alcohol for SO and his friends to drink at the wedding.” As if ½ the people invited weren’t all just her friends? ((All our friends live out of state/country so half the wedding is family and HER friends/neighbors.)) "I’m sure H*(SIL) and K*(MIL) have good counsel for you on _____," (Why would you say this when i'm asking for YOUR opinion? If i wanted their opinion i'd ask them.)

-4 months before the wedding she’s trying to talk me out of my venue saying we need to go look at the ones SO and MIL had suggested.

-Wants me to keep (BM)'s relation to me a secret even though i’m pretty sure 85% of the people who know me and are coming to my wedding know i'm adopted.

-Angry that I was moving out of the house at 21 with my SO she told his mother she hoped we’d fail. (In her defense she'd just been diagnosed with breast cancer and I'd done poorly in my last semester of college so parents thought it would be a good idea to take me out of college for a semester so i could live at home and basically be at my moms beck and call while also being expected to work 2 jobs (they'd told me the instant that the semester was over that i was expected to work 2 jobs) -That's at least how I was viewing that whole situation before I moved out- )

-As a kid I remember wanting to run away a lot. (Never away to a friends house but always to a park to live under a bridge like the goblin I am (lol)) (is it obvious I use self depreciating humor to get through things that I'm uncomfortable with? haha)

-I'd always hide things from her, even small things like a puzzle book i'd bought myself from the elementary school book fairs. i even began writing my diaries in code so she couldn't read them. Not that i ever caught her reading my diaries or what not but thats how afraid i was.

-The only things that stopped me from killing myself was the distressing thought that my mother would be more upset with blood on the floor than me being gone. (It was a constant worry of mine when I was having ideations.)

-When i was getting close to graduating high school the librarians told me they had a bunch of excess old books they were getting rid of and one of them happened to be the "Toxic Parents" book i've seen several other posts refer to. I took no other books besides that one. I hid that from her too. Looking back through it i remember there was a checklist in the book and i'd filled some of it out when i was younger. I most definitely am a people pleaser.

-We've never really been able to "talk" about things together like how my dad and i do and i think she's really jealous about it.

-The only way I feel comfortable talking to her is Via Email/Text because then that way i have a copy of all the things she's said. because i often forget things. (I honestly don't know how bad my memory is or if its gaslighting but i hope its just me being forgetful and not the latter...)

-I literally cannot let my SO do the dishes because my Mom would always do the dishes/clean when she was mad and bang pots around loudly and just even those sounds set me on edge.

-Her telling me that the careers i wanted to get into (IE: the Arts/Theater/Music) wouldn't make enough money and that they'd be fine as Hobbies but not as careers.

-She's continually trying to push me into a Customer Service Job because i'm so good at making other people happy. (talked to dad about this and he says i'm a very big people pleaser who doesn't like conflicts -cue nervous laughter about wedding planning-)

-Being around her for long periods of time is so physically/emotionally draining. I know that's probably a result of always being on edge with her and I always feel bad that I feel that way.

-Because she's said she hoped I'd fail (me and my So when I first moved out) I'm terrified of telling her anything personal going on in my life for fear that she'd take it out on me or use it against me (i got super anxious/scared when she came up to see me on my end of town once because we'd be stopping at the mall where i used to work and i hadn't yet told her that I'd quit that job.)

-I want to have a relationship with her. I want us to do fun Mom& Daughter things but at the same time I'm scared of letting her get too close to me again just to have it fall apart again.

-When I moved out (21) i went VLC with my whole family before i even knew what VLC was. I barely saw them (except for certain holidays/events.) I didn't talk to my dad for about 3 years because of this and am just now recovering that relationship with him (been 5 years now since I moved out)

-After I get married my plan is to move to CO. During that time i don't remember if my mom has mentioned if she'd miss me, but i do recall she has made multiple points to tell me that my dad says he would miss me.

-I had to beg for a 16th Birthday Party. She finally caved half a year later after I'd talked to my Therapist about it.

-pretty sure i'm the SG of the family (possibly Cousin 1 being the GC because she went to same University my mom did)

-Other family members on her side have stepped in to provide financial help to me on the promise that i wouldn't tell anyone. (probably to stop any gossip of favoritism)

I Don't know if she's an N or just really bad at expressing herself but her hot and cold attitude really sets off my anxiety that i've done something to piss her off and that she won't talk to me about it for a few weeks and then acts as though nothing is wrong/nothing happened. Planning my wedding is the MOST contact we've had in 5 years since i moved out and went VLC and i've been trying to use this as a way to bond with her better but anytime i think i'm getting somewhere Something happens and she's upset again. A phrase i've found myself come into saying recently is "I can't fix something that I don't know is wrong." So i've tried to take that approach when it comes to her. I know she's an adult and can choose for herself if she wants to talk about whats on her mind. I can't force her to talk if she doesn't want to but the anxiety it causes when she gets into these moods is really debilitating. I'm terrible at letting things go (especially if i think its my fault)

I'm Not Her Therapist, but if she has an issue with me I wish she'd just tell me instead of the Silent treatment for a week.

Trigger Topics that I've learned to Avoid at All Costs:

Anything about "Other Mothers" in my life.

Politics & Racism

Anything in the Past that happened.

My moving out

Anything that paints her as a "Bad Mother"(aka this whole post probably)

This post is a mess and I'm rambling. Thanks for sticking through this Brain Dump while I process. 

-Edit 2:

More things i'm recalling: For Christmas one year in front of my whole family (I was between 8-10 ish) she got me a set of underwear with the days of the week labeled on them and told me in front of everyone that "Maybe this would help me remember [to change my underwear daily]..."

One of my final years in high school I somehow managed to get a Cold Sore. My First Cold Sore ever and my lip where it broke out swelled up HUGE. I woke up the day it appeared ( a weekend thank the gods) and horrified went downstairs to tell my mom about it. I don't recall any words of sympathy other than "Cold Sores are caused by Herpes." I just remember breaking down into tears.

I mapped out a "Quiet Walking Path" that avoided all the creaky floorboards and steps in our house.

I get extremely anxious whenever I would hear my parents footsteps coming up the stairs. It got to the point that I could distinguish their steps on Carpet.

I jump/flinch (visibly) at loud noises, even if I know they are coming (movies songs ect.)

Routinely friended/unfriended me on Facebook before deleting it entirely (due to 2018 spying/hacking allegations)

I don't know if she means for these things to be hurtful but as someone who doesn't enjoy confrontation and is extremely sensitive to others feelings it just hurts y'know?

-edit 3: Attempted to talk to mom about her saying she hoped we'd fail via email. went about as well as expected. =Well, that clears a lot of things up. We only wanted you to be independent and happy, and it appears you are. End of story!

And for what it’s worth, I’ve said a LOT of things over the past 6 years that you didn’t hear about. And I’m not really sure where you heard “I hope they fail.” But I’m sure your source is 100%, and certainly not something you’d want to clarify with me.

I hope you got your apartment all squared away in Colorado. You should be under the 60-day notice by now! Woo hoo!

Let me know when you all are coming to get your stuff out of the house.

I’ll have it packed and ready for you.

-Mom

Am i reading into this too much? because it sounds like she's being hella passive aggressive about this.

-Edit 4: 7-19-18 Been venting about wedding planning being stressful on fb away from my mom since she doesn't have one anymore. I didn't realize she had fms reporting to her about my posts as she just randomly mentions via text that she wants to help me have fun while planning and that she wishes she could make it a happy time for me.

Edit 5: 9-26-18 Wedding is over finally. had our honeymoon and got moved out of our apartment back into my MIL's house. During the move we had to put all of our stuff into storage which includes Wedding gifts and thankyou notes. So Mom has been hounding me about getting them done and i've informed her several times that all of that is in storage and i havent been able to yet. She said not an excuse go buy more thankyou notes and write them all. I asked if Emailing a thank you would work, she says no must be hand written and mailed out (also who's paying for 100+ stamps: Me) Well Tonight she informs me that she's doing all the ones from her/my side and that she doesn't care if we do them for DH's side since SIL didn't send any thank you notes either. Cue big long talk with DH about all of this and he says not to worry about her being passive aggressive like this. Go and check my Email to find she sent an Email to me only with writing saying

"Dear all,

Thank you so much for attending --- wedding. Your presence was so important to me, and I know to the kids as well. Thank you also for the lovely wedding gifts you sent or brought. I know they are appreciated and will be enjoyed by the newlyweds. It was very kind and generous of you!

Unfortunately, --- is unable to send thank you notes, but I did want you to know that your gifts, and your presence at the celebration, were very important to all of us, and very much appreciated.

Fondly,

MOM"

currently I'm choosing not to respond and I wonder how our relationship is going to be going forward from all of this... I was so happy that the wedding was over so i wouldn't have to deal with this petty drama bullshit anymore but I guess thats just too much to ask for.

-She's also unfriended me on facebook again. I'm tempted to just block her to stop this wishy washy stuff from happening again.

[lifeofaernthota]

An Interview with Aernthota Hymllihtwyn

tagged by: @manasong ( and @popola-sil-pola too so she gets a notification that i actually did the thing ) tagging: UHHHH ANYBODY??? WHO WANTS TO???? orz it’s been a million years since i got tagged in this so gomen 

A light breeze ruffles the curtains as Aernthota opens the window wide. Warm Shroud sunlight spills over a coffee table crammed with a plethora of foods; everything from sandwiches to cookies to cake. She motions towards the sofas there before hurrying over to retrieve a whistling kettle and a few mismatched cups from the cabinet. A tap to her pearl, a soft spoken word to someone on the other end, and her attention focuses as she also settles down, helping herself to food. “Ah! Ready when you are! An’ please please pleeease help yourself!”

What is your full name?

Aern giggles a little bit and carefully watches the pen, as if waiting for a mistake to appear on the parchment. “Aernthota Hymllihtwyn. Misspelled, of course. Be damned if I could find anyone but another Sea Wolf t’get it right. Ma still shakes her head any time a letter shows up back home for me... Swears one day, I should just tell’em t’sod off until they can spell it right! Oh hyll, lemme spell it for ya.”

What do your friends call you?

“Aern! Mostly. S’much easier that way. Sylb likes t’call me Sunflower, Dew Drop, Sunshine... yanno that stuff. But he’s the only one who gets away with it!”

What is your favorite animal?

“Adamantoise! Never really saw many of ‘em until I started travelin’ around! Big scalekin... Cactuar are almost as cute though... Though... do those really count as animals? Plants really.... lil... stubby things.”

Where were you born?

Her shoulders straighten some as she takes a hefty sip of tea before continuing. “Right smack in th’middle of Limsa Lominsa! Ma always joked that she was just mendin’ nets like always when I just kinda fell out! But Limsa is home, even after bein’ away for so long. I still go back t’visit when I can.” 

Do you have children?

”Ah! One day I’m sure! Though... none right now.” She mutters something into her cup that sounds an awful lot like “Not for lack of tryin’.”

Is there a person/people you love?

Aern immediately brightens up as she looks towards the door, as if waiting for someone to return. “Sylb! Er... Silver. My husband. My rock, my comfort, th’most handsome Roegadyn in all th’land... yanno all that good mushy shite!” She covers her cheeks to hide a tinge of girlish blush. It takes a few seconds to really contain herself. “Really though... Without him, I wouldn’t know such a good life here. We take care of each other. He’s th’best damned chef I’ll ever meet - he’s the one who made all the food! I can barely boil water without settin’ somethin’ on fire. He’s always helpin’ bring back soil an’ seeds an’ just... I can’t wait t’spend th’rest of my life with him.” 

She stuffs a bit of sandwich in her mouth, stops for a moment, and then immediately has another thought. Frantically chewing, she manages to clear out enough room to speak.  “An’ of course th’whole Company! They’re all th’best cohorts a lady could hope for!!”

What is your favorite colour?

“Yellow! Bright yellows! Yanno like... th’kind of sunshine yellow! Happy colors. Not so much for all th’doom an’ gloom kinds.”

What is your full occupation?

"Er... Dunno if y’really call it much of an occupation but botanist! Er... gardener! Part time adventurer if you can believe that! Some poor sap at the Adventurer’s Guild thought they could train me up an’ make somethin’ of me! After butchering my name of course... But nah! Mostly work with plants. A lil bit with potions. Anythin’ to be outside really.” 

Are you good at physical fighting?

There is a pause as she sips again, uncertainty playing across her features. “Er... Well I mean... I know how t’fight well enough. Dunno if I’d really say good though. Much better at patchin’ people up than really doin’ any damage.”

Which form are you best at?

"Shite that’s a bit tricky too yanno! I studied a bit with th’spear... An’ gods be good I grew up with half th’damned Mauraders in the guild! They were a riot... didn’t give me any slack though! Trained me just as hard. An’ well... t’be honest... Kinda got a lil bit’a practice with one of those katanas. Completely different than any of th’other swords. Feels a lil more fluid.” She trails off for a second, grabbing another hunk of sandwich absentmindedly. “But still. Not really good at anythin’ in that realm. Colson’s th’one to ask about all that!”

What about magic?

With an enthusiastic nod, Aernthota pours herself a bit more tea. “That’s more my style! Definitely.”

Which type are you best at?

“Healin’ magics mostly! Dunno how I got t’really be so in tune with th’Shroud but... it was kinda scary at first. Not too many trees in th’city. But it was... somethin’ else.” There’s a lull here, marked only by the sound of birds outside and the gentle breeze ruffling the curtains. “Sylb’s a little more accustomed t’other magic. Stars an’ such. It’s pretty amazin’ t’think that we’re able to make that sorta thing happen, don’t you think?” 

Craftsmanship?

This question seems to pull her back out of her musing. “Ah! A lil bit here and there! Mostly workin’ with wood and such! I picked up a lil bit from Kurt... but I still need t’ask him everythin’. If you ever need somethin’ made, he’s the one t’ask! For th’right amount of gil...”

Any other skills?

"Maybe? I dunno really! I’ve never been much of... er... much of anythin’ really!”

Are you an only child?

Aern gives an oddly casual shrug at that. “I was th’only one Ma ever raised! Dad wasn’t... er... present? So I dunno! Could have a whole load’a siblings I don’t even know about! But it was just me an’ Ma.”

Where do you see yourself in five years?

“Oh dunno. Maybe still adventurin’! Maybe slowin’ down some with Silver... Hopefully able t’keep a damn plot of those Thavnarian Onions alive without somebody runnin’ through’em...”

Have you ever almost died?

Aern simply bites into her sandwich again. “Haven’t we all? Though... er... Nevermind all that. Not exactly the kinda thing you wanna bring up with most people.”

Do you have a secret, not just a secret, but like a really big secret, hardly anyone knows?

There’s another shrug at that. “If I had any, I promise I’m not sharin’em with you.”

Salty or sweet?

"Sweet! Usually. Unless Silver’s cookin’ and then he’s got this amazin’ stew...”

Do you like yourself?

Aern cocks her head and chuckles some. “I think I’m doin’ aright! Could improve but... yeah!”

Do you believe in the Twelve?

She nods feverishly at that. “Better t’hedge my bets yeah?”

Are you religious?

"Now... I wouldn’t go that far yanno? I think believin’ is enough.”

Do you carry prejudice with you?

There is a moment of Aern only squinting and thinking for a moment... and then shaking her head a little. “I... dunno? I don’t think so. Not more than anybody else would... But then again, still a lotta things I haven’t seen yet! I’d like t’think I’m pretty open t’people though. Limsa’s full of all kinds yanno.”

What do you consider entertainment?

“Oh I love a good story! Sometimes just gettin’ the whole crew together an’ sittin’ around tellin’ stories is the best. I’ve heard people talk about plays an’ such too! But... hmm... Dunno. Maybe if th’right kinda performance was goin’ on?”

Favorite drink?

Aern sips from her cup with a coy smile. “Tea’s pretty swell yanno... but a lil bit of ale’s not bad from time to time... An’ I’ve been known t’sneak a lil rum here and there. But really! I’m mostly good! Found some of those Hingan teas are pretty nice too!”

Do you have any family traditions?

“Hmm? No more than anybody ‘round here I think! Though... hmm... Dunno if you’d call it tradition but I’m always accustomed to a good scrub down of th’whole house once spring really kicks in yanno? Somethin’ Ma always insisted on. Everything dusted, wiped down, cleaned up. Helps get in the mood for nicer weather!”

Are you a good person?

Aern nods slowly. “I try my best t’be.”

Thank you for answering my questions.

"Of course! You’re always welcome t’drop by when y’want!” Aern smiles brightly before lifting a hand and whispering conspiratorially. “Y’might even be able to catch one of Sylb’s Aldgoat Pies if you’re lucky!”