#then i add the necessary tone tags to make sure that im not coming off as too agressive

[themellifiedman]

Wow. i love talking to people who share common interests with me over the internet. I love making new friends and talking to others.

*has one negative interaction with someone where i end up upsetting the other person over a misunderstanding then apologising like 5 times*

im going to delete all of my social media and never talk to anyone ever again.

[hyprfixate]

soul vine ↝ [L.M.] :: part two

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: when you decide to get an ear piercing as part of your transition to adulthood, you expect a lot of things, like the pain and the high price tag. what you don’t expect, however, is finding out you’re soul-bound to the angry blonde from the parlor. or that you’re technically not human.

but hey. adulthood, right?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: lee minho x she/her reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ chapter word count: 4.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags: magic au, grumpy minho, fantasy, medium burn, strangers to enemies to friends to lovers, soulmate au (will add more as i think about it)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author’s note: this took so long to write and im not even sure i’m satisfied with it, but i hope you all enjoy! as usual if you see formatting mistakes, no you didn’t.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tag list: @mal-lunar-28 (comment on this post to be added!)

part one - part two - part three - part four

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

With your eyes scrunched tight from the pain, you weren’t able to see Hyunjin reaching out for you or Minho’s shocked face off to the side. Tears pooled in your lashes as you clutched at your ear, the pain making your ears ring.

“Okay, it’s okay, I got you.”

A hand, you assumed it to be Hyunjin’s, pressed something cold against your ear. Slowly, the pain started to dissipate little by little, until you found your eyes open again, blurred by the remnants of tears.

Hyunjin’s plump lips were slack in surprise and confusion. He glanced over at Minho, whose face was tight and slightly annoyed. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he held the paper bag with the care instructions in one of his hands.

“You’d think letting your piercer know you’re allergic to silver would be common sense, huh.” His annoyed tone was punctuated by a raise of his eyebrow.

“You’d think the piercer would realize I wouldn’t know, since I don’t have any piercings.”

You stared at him with a deadpan look on your face. Next to you, Hyunjin bit his tongue to stop from laughing. It didn’t prove to be very helpful, however, and his shoulders still shook slightly.

After composing himself, Hyunjin cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah so, if it continues to hurt like that you can come back and we’ll swap the earring out for you.”

He snatched the care bag from Minho and presented it to you. “Maybe it was just a delayed reaction to the pain though. Make sure you follow all the instructions here carefully, okay? We don’t want it to get infected.”

“Another thing,” Minho piped up. “Hopefully the picture is off the board now— and if it isn’t, take it down when you get out there Hyunjin— but if anyone asks where you got that earring, don’t send them here.”

Both you and Hyunjin stared at him like he lost his mind. “Uh…”

“We’re trying to run a business here, dude,” Hyunjin sighed. He turned his attention back to you. “You can tell them where you got pierced. But, yeah, maybe don’t tell them Minho made the earring specifically. He’s touchy about it.”

You remembered how gorgeous it looked in your ear, and you felt yourself smiling slightly. Gatekeeping, in this instance, had to be okay, right? The artist himself didn’t want anyone else to wear his artwork, so it was almost necessary. You reached an absent minded hand up to your ear, and traced your finger over the heart.

“Thank you, Minho,” you whispered.

The blonde blinked in surprise, almost as if he wasn’t used to the phrase. For a second, you thought his grouchy exterior would wash away.

“Whatever. I hope you like it.”

Nevermind.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the front,” Hyunjin said softly. With a gentle hand on your back to guide you, he began walking out of Minho’s studio, casting an unreadable glance back at Minho, who was staring at you.

Once the two of you were out of earshot, you turned to Hyunjin. “Is he normally like that? Or did I offend him by getting this earring?”

“Hm? Oh, Minho! No, he’s just like that. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He paused for a second. “Well, I mean, he’s just like that when it comes to the earring. It’s a…. cultural thing?”

You felt yourself freeze. “A cultural thing..?”

Did you just unknowingly commit a micro-aggression? Anxiety brewed in your gut as you stared at Hyunjin with large, pleading eyes.

“Oh— no! Don’t worry! The earring isn’t the cultural thing— or, well it kind of is, but not in like a… I mean, like…”

Your anxiety didn’t quell with Hyunjin stuttering over his words. Common sense told you that the earring had a complicated history, and there wasn’t much Hyunjin could tell you that would make sense without the background context. You paused his anxious bumbling by putting a hand on his arm, causing him to look over at you.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I just want to know if I’m… disrespecting a culture by wearing this. You don’t have to tell me a whole story if you don’t want to.”

The redhead let out a small breath. “Right. Okay. The history of the earring is a little complicated, but it’s a culture no one knows about. Except us here, in the studio.”

“Like an ancient civilization?”

He pressed his lips together. “Yeah. Something like that.”

A part of you didn’t believe him in the slightest, but you nodded anyway. “That’s kind of cool,” you offered. With his meek smile, you gave him a strong one. “So you guys are history buffs. Wouldn’t expect that with the tattoos and piercings.”

Hyunjin chuckled, continuing your walk to the front lobby. “You’d be surprised,” he giggled. “But, I’m glad you chose the earring. You seem like a nice person, and that makes me happy.”

You felt a smile creep onto your face at the praise. Before you could reply, Hyunjin parted the mysterious black curtain from earlier and ushered you out into the front lobby. Chan was seated next to the front desk, along with a new face you didn’t recognize. The silver hair, black gloves, and tattoos indicated that he also worked there, though, and so did Hyunjin’s warm smile.

Chan glanced up from his conversation and smiled at you. “All done?”

“Yeah,” you smiled back. You turned your head to show him, and he gave a wolf whistle in response.

“I’m so glad Minho actually did it,” he grinned. “It’s absolutely gorgeous. And everything else was okay?”

“We had a small mishap with a mirror,” you cringed. “I was looking at his little watermark and my ear started burning. He and Hyunjin think I might be allergic to silver.”

“Watermark?”

The new voice surprised you. The three of you turned to the third person, who’s almond eyes were round and sparkling. Noticing everyone staring at him, he shrunk into himself and gave a bashful smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Jisung raises a good point,” Chan mumbled to himself. “What watermark do you mean?”

Your eyebrow raised slightly. “The squiggles in the earring.” You made a squiggly motion with your finger. “When light hits them it spells out Minho’s name.”

A strange silence blanketed the front lobby. Chan furrowed his eyebrows, and his tongue peeked out of his mouth to mess with his lip ring. “Huh,” he mumbled. “We didn’t know about that part.”

The newcomer, Jisung, blinked quietly. “It makes sense.” His voice was quiet. “If you think about it.”

After another awkward beat, Chan clapped his hands together once. “Well, either way, don’t worry about the mirror. We run through them like laundry here. Especially Jisung.”

“Hey!”

Chan pulled out a few pieces of official looking paperwork. “Can I get your ID to confirm your age?”

You fumbled around in your pocket and handed him the small card. He gave it a quick glance and handed it back to you with a smile.

There was something about Chan and his smile that made you feel… safe. His eyes always seemed to be sparkling, and his expressions were always kind, even when he was arguing with Minho. You felt a smile appear on your face in response.

“Oh! Happy Birthday,” Chan grinned. “I’ll slide a little discount on there for you then. Everything comes out to be $45.”

You wrinkled your face. “That seems kind of low… Minho made the whole earring by hand.”

“But he was also a horrible piercer because he was grumpy,” Hyunjin piped up. “Birthday discount and a ‘We’re sorry for our friend’ discount.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you relented, and dug around your pocket to hand Chan the necessary money for your piercing, along with a bit extra. Grumpy or not, Minho did an amazing job with the piercing and the earring itself. He deserved something special.

And, besides, you did shatter his mirror.

Chan printed your receipt and slid it across the counter to you, along with a business card. It had a sloppily scribbled smiley face across the front, and you peered up at him with questioning eyes.

“Just in case you do decide to get lobe piercings,” he explained. “So you can call and I’ll let you know when our guy is in.”

“Or if you ever just want to hang out,” Jisung added. “I like your energy.”

You gave the bright eyed boy a smile as you slipped everything into your pocket. “I’ll consider it,” you teased. He smiled gently before picking up your care package and handing it to you.

Just as you reached out to grab it, the piercing in your ear felt like it’d been lit aflame. You dropped all your belongings as you reached to grab your ear with both hands, your knees almost buckling as the pain radiated through your head. Along with the pain this time came that suffocating feeling from earlier, when you first stepped into Minho’s studio.

Everything sounded like you were 10 feet underwater. You could barely keep your eyes open through the pain, your vision now littered with shadows and vague colors. You could see Hyunjin’s head of red hair leaping over the counter to get to you quickly.

From somewhere nearby, you could hear Chan calling your name with growing concern. You tried to steady your breathing in order to respond, but your efforts were futile. That was, until Hyunjin pressed another cold paper towel on your ear. Your gut instinct was to push his hand away, but he held you with a bit of force, rendering you motionless and almost limp in his arms. Bit by bit, the pain started to disappear again.

You wanted to keep your eyes closed, but a nagging feeling crept up your neck— a feeling that someone was watching you. You cracked one eye open, completely disoriented with your surroundings. You were on the floor, that much you knew, but you couldn’t tell what part of the lobby you’d landed on.

The nagging feeling returned, and you glanced slightly to your left to see Minho peering at you from behind the black curtain that led to the individual studios. His glare was menacing, but somewhat curious. Once he noticed your gaze on him, he disappeared quickly, leaving you alone with the three panicked men.

Speaking of—

“Oh my God, are you okay?”

You shifted your gaze to find Chan and Jisung kneeling in front of you. Chan was gripping his phone tightly in his hand as though ready to dial emergency services.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “My ear again. I’m okay now though, but I guess I really am allergic to silver.”

“That was worse than last time,” Hyunjin whined from behind you. Only then did you notice that you were seated between his legs like a small child. His grip on you was secure, so you knew there was no wiggling away.

Chan’s face had concern slapped right on it. He pressed his lips together and continued to stare at you as though he thought by breathing, he’d agitate the piercing and cause you to be in pain again. After a moment, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“I’m gonna have to get Minho to remake it in gold,” he muttered.

“I’m so sorry,” you said quickly. “It doesn’t have to be this earring, I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“No,” Chan said simply. “That's what you wanted, so that’s what you’re getting. Would you mind coming back in a week?”

You shrugged. You didn’t see why not, it wasn’t like you had things to do.

“Although, if the pain gets unbearable, you should come back sooner.” Hyunjin’s hand was gentle on your ear. “We have topical pain ointment that should help.”

After a beat of silence, Jisung offered you his hand and pulled you up to your feet. The rest of the boys followed, and soon you were all standing around the desk like you were before. Jisung handed you the care package, his fingers barely gracing yours for fear of seeing you double over in pain again.

“We have your number from the paperwork,” Chan said. “I’ll text you when the earring is ready. Or, like Hyunjin said, you can shoot us a text if you need to come because of the pain.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

The red-hot pain had dulled down into a mild ache, the kind you would expect from having a hollow needle take out a chunk of your skin. You rubbed at it absentmindedly, only to have your hand swatted at by Hyunjin.

“You’ll rub the ointment off,” he scolded.

You nodded sheepishly, slipping the care package bag into the reusable tote Chan was sliding over to you.

“Right, thank you guys.” Your mouth felt too heavy to speak, but you powered through. “You guys are great, I’ll see you in a week for the new earring.”

“Or sooner,” Chan interrupted. His gaze stayed pointed at you, as though he was looking through to your inner being. You gripped the tote for security as he continued. “Seriously, don’t feel like an inconvenience if you have to come in.”

“I’ll come in,” you assured him. He gave you another squint, but nodded eventually.

After three minutes worth of hugs from Hyunjin (and almost hugs from a sheepish Jisung), you felt the door of Tatt and Body Works click closed behind you. The uphill trek now looked manageable, and despite the pain in your ear, you felt level-headed and capable for the first time in a long time.

It wasn’t until a few days later that the problems started.

The piercing went from attacking you once a day to multiple times within the hour. Each episode lasted longer and longer, and after a while it would take up to an hour to recover.

Despite your promise to Chan, at first you held off on texting the parlor about it. In your mind, it was just an allergic reaction, and they were already working on something to help you. It seemed like overkill to get both the ointment and the replacement earring.

Then again, from the short interaction with Minho, you knew he hadn’t agreed to remake the earring so quickly. His stubborn streak was more like a stubborn stripe, and he probably only recently got started on it and was going to take his time completing it for reasons you couldn’t comprehend.

You tried using an image search engine to look up the general shape of the earring, just to see if you could figure out its meaning. The search results gave you nothing every time, no matter how many buzzwords you added. Hyunjin was correct, it truly was a part of a culture that no one knew about. You would feel more curious about it, if the damn thing wasn’t trying to send you to an early grave.

After a few days, you realized you couldn’t take it anymore and needed the ointment Hyunjin promised you. Whether Minho finished the earring or not was his business, but you refused to suffer any longer knowing there was a cure waiting for you a few blocks away.

So, with a courtesy text to the guys, you tossed your phone and wallet into a crossbody bag and made your way to the shop.

The air was cool on your face, giving the day a comfortable and delightful feeling. It was mid afternoon so the sun hung high in the sky, casting the shadows of buildings all along the street during your walk.

Once you reached the top of the hill, you peered down and noticed someone standing in front of the shop. You couldn’t make out their face from where you were standing, but their silhouette looked a lot like Hyunjin. They leaned against the brick wall, tapping away on their phone. You assumed— if it was Hyunjin— that he was on his break. After a few seconds, someone else walked out of the shop, said a few words to him, and disappeared around the corner.

The closer you got to the end of the hill, the more sure you were about it being Hyunjin. You were about to bite the bullet and call out his name when an eerie feeling washed over you.

You stopped dead in your tracks. It felt like fire and ice had chased each other up your spine before wrapping around your neck and leaving you in a chokehold. Anxiety brewed in your gut, and everything in you screamed for you to either turn around and go home, or make a mad dash for the parlor. But the sudden fear had your feet rooted to the ground, and you begged that Hyunjin would look up and see you.

As you focused your eyes back on him, you noticed that he had stopped tapping away on his phone. He was looking around with his phone gripped tightly in his hand. You knew at that moment that whatever you were sensing, he certainly was sensing too. You tried to push his name out of your mouth, but he quickly ran into the building and disappeared from your view.

That’s weird, you thought. Truly, weird was an understatement, but unless you tried to downplay your anxiety you’d be standing here for the rest of the day. You tried to shake the strange feeling off of your skin and so you could start walking again, but as soon as your foot lifted from the ground, you felt a hand tap you on the shoulder.

You whipped around quickly, coming face to face with a complete stranger. Your eyes were wide and wild, and you knew you looked as freaked out as you felt. They looked equally startled, however.

“Woah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

The stranger pulled their hand away from you quickly, stepping back to put some more space between the two of you. You pressed your hand over your chest to still your heart and nodded at the stranger, still too surprised to say words. He reached out his hand again, and this time you noticed your wallet sitting on his palm.

“You dropped this,” he offered. “I was trying to get your attention but I don’t think you heard me.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, thank you so much!”

You took the wallet from him and nudged your bag in front of you, but as you did confusion began to shroud your features. Your bag was still closed, and your phone was still in there, so how did your wallet manage to fall out? You poked around to check for holes, almost forgetting you were in the company of another person.

“That earring is really cool.” You looked up to see the man still standing by you, his eyes fixed on the metal in your ear. Your hand reached up protectively.

“Oh, um, thanks,” you mumbled. You remembered Minho’s warning (or threat, rather) not to tell anyone where you got the earring. You decided to remain paused on the sidewalk instead of continuing your walk to the parlor, just so the man wouldn’t make any connections. You glanced back at him with a polite smile and noticed that he was still staring, but his face was morphing from intrigue to something else.

Something sinister.

Your gut started screaming for you to get to the parlor as quickly as possible.

“Oh shoot,” you casted a glance at your wrist, cringing when you noticed there was no watch on it. You pressed on anyway. “I— I’m actually late for an appointment,” you said. You took two small steps backwards, prepping your legs for a sprint. “Thanks for the compliment, and for my wallet. Bye now.”

As you turned on your heels, you felt an arm grip you and spin you back around. Your breath caught in your chest as you faced your attacker, who was now staring at you with all the contempt in the world.

“Nah, little lady. I don’t think so.” His voice came out in a low growl, a tone so low that you swore you could feel it vibrating down to your toes.

“Let go of me!” You thrashed in his grip, trying to free yourself. His fingers held tighter— tight enough to bruise. You could feel tears beginning to make their way to your eyes.

With his free hand, he gripped your chin between his fingers and turned your head roughly to the side. “Tell me, who pierced your ear?”

When you failed to answer, his grip on your jaw increased and he raised his arm higher, effectively lifting you off of the ground. Now strung up in the air, you tried kicking and scratching at him, but he held you at arms length like a dirty sock.

“Stop resisting,” he barked. “Just take me to Minho, and everything will be fine.”

Your eyes went wide at the mention of Minho’s name, and a smirk appeared on the man’s face.

“Gotcha.”

You looked around frantically, hoping for someone to come bounding around the corner and save you. The struggle for breath was really starting to take hold of you, and you could feel what you assumed to be the beginning of consciousness loss. You gave one final weak kick before you gave up, fighting to keep your eyes open and your awareness in the present.

Just before the endless black sea took over your vision, you felt the grip on your jaw release, and you fell to the floor with an ungraceful thump. Your ears were ringing, but through the noise you could hear muffled sounds of violence, and you sent a wish to every power that ever existed that the new people were here to save you.

A hand pressed to your forehead, and you opened your eyes weakly to see the vague silhouette of a man looking back at you. You could barely hear him, but by reading his lips you could tell he was calling your name. His hold on your forehead got stronger, and the ringing in your ears cleared up just a bit, enough to tune into the conversation.

“—answering me, Chan! I don’t think— no, she’s up! She’s up!”

You felt the air whizz around you as Hyunjin picked you up bridal style and took off running. His grip on you was tight, and he kept speaking to you under his breath, trying to keep you alert.

“Hyunjin?”

“No,” he scolded. “Don’t speak, please. Not until I heal you, okay? I don’t want you to strain. Please.”

You felt the shift in air as he stepped into the parlor, not just from the AC system, but the homely, calming energy you noticed before engulfed you like a warm blanket. You felt the bounce in his steps as he took you up a flight of stairs, and after a second you found yourself laying on a couch, with his hand still on your forehead.

With your eyes better adjusted, you looked up at him. His normally bright eyes were dull and red, almost like he’d been crying for a long time. When he noticed you staring, he offered a small smile.

“Gave us a little scare there, huh?”

“What happened?”

He pressed his lips together and looked away, eyes searching the walls for his answer. At first, you thought he was looking at another person, so you tried to shift your position to see what he was seeing. However, the fall from earlier reared it ugly head, and you could feel a bruise forming on the spot where your body hit the ground. You let out a sharp hiss of pain.

Hyunjin looked back at you, concern in his eyes. “What hurts?”

“My back.” You shifted again. “I think it’s gonna bruise, from when I fell.”

Gently, Hyunjin eased you onto your side. “I’m gonna touch it,” he whispered. “But it won’t hurt for long. I’m gonna heal it.”

“What are you t—”

Hyunjin’s fingers graced the aching spot on your back, and though you prepared for pain it never came. Instead, a peaceful feeling blossomed all over your body starting from that one spot. You wiggled a bit to find that the pain was entirely gone.

Eyes wide, you turned back to Hyunjin, who was giving you another shy smile.

“What the fuck?”

“Surprise,” he laughed weakly.

Before you could ask him any more questions, pounding footsteps echoed near your head. Hyunjin sighed heavily as you turned your head around, coming face to face with a very angry blonde haired man.

Minho’s anger was palpable. He pointed a single finger at your face, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he did.

“We need to have a fucking talk.”

[archive-of-the-guild]

 Character Bio and rules are below the line

You can call me Shadow. i’m a 28yo male that hasn’t rped in years. Last time i did was i think 3 maybe 4 years ago so i am plenty rusty. I know this doesn’t say a lot about me but if there’s anything you’d like to know, just ask.

About Karisa

Name: Karisa

Race: Tiefling: A Humanoid people descended from humans who made pacts or crossbred with demons.

Age: 18

Height: 6'3"

Hair color: black

Occupation: Golemancer, Adventurer, occasional Blacksmith

Appearance: As a tiefling, Karisa has several traits that distinguishes her from Humans. She has Lavender colored skin, ice blue eyes, two horns, pointed ears, and a 4 foot long tail.

Personality: When it comes to enemies, Karisa can be downright ruthless. if she hates them bad enough, she will leave an enemy broken but alive to let them try again. She swears a LOT around everyone no matter who they are with the exception of children and has a habit of making enemies through her mannerisms. She’s bad enough with her words that there have been jokes made about weaponizing her lexicon and isn’t afraid to cuss out friends! BUT if you can take her words with a grain of salt and actually befriend her, then no matter what she says to you, she will protect you with her life. In her words, “You may be a cunt, but you’re MY cunt. And no one FUCKS with my cunt!”

Background:

Karisa was born on a small farm and raised by her parents until she reached the age of 8 when they passed away. Since then she would delve into golemancy as a way to cope, keeping her hands busy and moving foreword as best as she can. This is around the time she found the large crystal that would become Grom’s core. At the age of 10, she made her way to the city with her golem Grom, who was wood at the time, to try and become an adventurer. There she met the Dwarf Bormi who gave her a place to stay and taught her in the ways of the blacksmith.

Modern Verse (Hazbin Verse rewrite):

Karisa is Tiefling who was born into an organization known as The Adventurer’s Guild. The purpose of this organization is to deal with supernatural threats to society as a whole by hunting down creatures, artifacts, books, and other things that could pose a danger. If it can’t be recruited, it is to be either destroyed or relocated. People of course know about them but there is a general distrust of the organization due to their habit of employing non-humans and the Guild’s use of magic.

When it comes to the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Guild was able to get their hands on a blueprint for portal technology. The portal they have doesn’t always work and sometimes accesses realms other than Heaven or Hell. This can have a tendency to get adventurers stuck in realms outside of earth.

Skills-

Golemancy: Throughout her life, Karisa has made a variety of golems. These golems can me made from just about any solid material if given enough time. Golems made from metal, stone, wood, and even flesh are within her area of expertise. Her favorite golem is an 8 foot tall minotaur automaton she named Grom.

Cooking: Karisa LOVES to cook. She’s always experimenting with different dishes and creating a few of her own.

Basic Martial Arts: Since she turned 13, Karisa has trained with a quarterstaff and dagger so that if her golems failed, she could still take care of herself.

Magic: In addition to Golemancy, she has a small arsenal of spells at her disposal.

Fire Spells: All Tieflings are capable of fire magic. Fireball, Burning Hands, and Firewall to name a few. Using fire helps her a lot if she has to weld parts together on a golem.

Lightning Spells: Karisa can perform rudimentary lightning spells but this mostly equates to coating her hand in electricity to use. The strength of this can range from the power of a normal stun gun to enough power to jumpstart a city’s electrical grid.

3D Movement: This is a form of wind magic that allows her to “kick” the air. by doing this, Karisa can give off the impression that she is flying. This does not mean she stays in the air, only that she can move in it. she usually only uses this to get over walls or cliffs or maybe to get into a tree.

Empathy Link: This is something she originally learned in order to better deal with golems in order to find out what their orders are. it can be used on other creatures and objects to get a kind of idea of either how they are feeling or how they are used. She MUST make contact with the palm of her hand for this to work.

Golem Creation: As a golemancer, Karisa carries a number of golem cores on her at all times. These cores can often be infused into whatever matter she chooses to create a quick golem in the field. These golems aren’t as effective as one she has time to prepare but they get the job done. Golem cores are also extremely volatile! Damaging a core will cause any magic in it to go haywire and explode in relation to the core’s size. This makes golems and their cores effective bombs if she needs to!

Golem Override: This is a skill that allows Karisa to manually control her golems and see through their eyes. HOWEVER this is only a last resort because it leaves her immobile and defenseless. 

Please send Karisa questions and asks either from yourself or your characters! i will fill this out as i go!

Rules

1: i am all for fight scenes and such but please do not god-mod. meaning do not assume what happens to my character. (EX: “My character fires a gun and hits your character in the shoulder.” or “Your character tried to dodge but my character cuts off their arm before they can.”) In my responses, i’ve taken to rolling a dice to determine whether or not my character gets hit and how badly she gets hit. I do not mind my character dying in a particular thread so long as it is discussed at length beforehand and is necessary for the development of the plot. communication is key for stuff like this.

2: Don’t send hate. I don’t mind criticizing because it helps me reflect on how i’m doing. Hate is just a dick move though.

3: I reserve the right to choose whether or not i rp or answer an ask. There will be times that i don’t have the inspiration or motivation to continue it or there is not enough for me to go on. An example of this would be if i responded to an rp and the response i get back is “Character ducks.” or something as equally short.

4: I don’t mind reminders but i DO mind spamming. I will mostly be rping either on the weekends or some afternoons when i can get up the motivation. DO NOT spam me reminders every day or every other day. I have a 5 month old son and a job that has me working monday to thursday with the occasional friday up to 12 hours a day. Those come first.

5: You will see a lot of stuff on here that i will do my best to tag from gore to n//s//f//w// threads. If there is anything in particular you would like me to tag when it shows up, please let me know! Anything truly spicy will placed uner a read more and tagged as “Read at your own Risk!::NSFPC” (nsfpc stands for not safe for public consumption.

6: While i accept starters, memes, questions and comments through asks, starters and starter memes WILL be turned into a post to start a thread. I will not rp through constant asks because this can lead to more dash clutter than the post will. That being said, i will trim the post before it gets too long and will try to have any appropriate tags on it.

7: THERE WILL BE LOTS AND LOTS OF SWEARING! Enough that i will not be tagging it because it is everywhere! I will not tone down her swearing except around child muses because this is part of her character and i ask that you please understand.

8: When it comes to shipping, Karisa will make things fairly clear on whether or not she wants to be with your character. I love shipping but i also know that not everyone will ship their characters with Karisa and that's perfectly fine! Karisa WILL flirt and get touchy with people she's interested in but if the mun or character they are controlling doesn't want that, TELL HER! Not me. HER. Have your character reject her advances, tell her "no" or even smack the shit out of her if she gets too handsy! I will not be upset and i will completely understand! A lot of people plan ships out and tell others there has to be chemistry, but as I'm thinking about it, im going to be removing that little section from my rules. Why? Because failed ships have the potential to create drama, angst, and even enemies if done properly! If she comes onto a character and it makes you uncomfortable or you're just not interested, EXPRESS IT THROUGH YOUR CHARACTER! The same will apply to her! The only time i will have any sort of problem is if she says no, gets into a fight, and you try to godmod it to your liking or try to guilt ME about it. My character makes up her own mind about how to do things just like yours.

I may add more rules as time goes on but it’s pretty straightforward. Don’t be afraid to come and talk to me! I’m pretty open about things and i would love to see you around! Come and join me on discord for more Mun stuff! Just make sure you edit your name to match your tumblr url so i know who you are please! https://discord.gg/6ftZuSP8XH 

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt65

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Tim could only stare at Damian as Ladybug closed the portal. He was the last one anyone expected to go rogue like this. That’s not to say they didn’t think he’d go rogue at all. Damian would definitely charge off on his own if he decided he knew best, but to see him deferring to another hero’s judgement and keeping them out of the loop was just surreal. He was starting to wonder if she hadn’t done something to him with her magic. When he happened to glace over at Ladybug he found her studying him. Well that was creepy.  He almost let out a relieved breath when she turned to Damian.

“Can he be trusted?” The question was insulting, as was the fact that Damian frowned at him, apparently thinking about it. Seriously? He’d agreed to her terms, what more did they want?

“Since Father agreed as well I believe he’ll keep his word. If he shows signs of cracking you can always erase his memory the way you threatened to do with me.” Wait what? Ladybug was frowning in thought as though considering it. What the hell had Bruce sent him into?

“Hey, I gave word and I meant it. I’ll abide by your terms as long as Hawkmoth is still a threat.” She just frowned at him again. So much for putting her at ease. Damian just rolled his eyes.

“My family understands the importance of secrets. He won’t tell anyone unless it’s necessary.” Tim felt like he was missing part of the conversation but Ladybug just let out a tired sigh.

“I hope you’re right, because we need to finish planning. And now that we have someone onsite to hack Gabriel’s system I’ll have to adjust it a little.” Before he knew what was happening there was a flash of light and where Ladybug had stood was a tiny, obviously worn down teenager.

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

Marinette just shook her head as Damian’s brother gaped at her. Even knowing she wasn’t what anyone expected to be under the mask it was still irritating to see the disbelief on his face.

“You two can come out now. No point in dragging this out since I think we’d all like to sleep at some point.” The door to the bedroom opened slowly but as soon as Chloe caught sight of her, her girlfriend rushed out to wrap Marinette in a hug. She must look worse than she thought. Luka went to stand next to Damian and the other boy held a rigid posture as if afraid of what he might do if he wasn’t careful. She knew he didn’t like the idea of his family meddling in his personal affairs and it was likely he was afraid his brother would pick up on something if he wasn’t careful.

“You really are just a bunch of kids. I was hoping it was just the magic that made you look so young.” Marinette felt Chloe stiffen, but she didn’t hear any disparagement in his tone, just resignation and sadness.

“We’re the heroes tasked with protecting Paris, our age is irrelevant. I’m Marinette.” She held out a hand and he took it cautiously.

“Tim. It’s nice to meet you officially. Do you really think you’ll have this whole thing dealt with in a week?” He sounded more curious than doubtful, which was good. She gave a tired sigh.

“This will all be over tomorrow night unless something goes insanely wrong. That shouldn’t be an issue now that I have a black cat that actually balances me properly.” She gave Chloe a small smile and could almost feel her tension loosen a bit. It was obvious she didn’t trust Tim and was going to remain on alert. For his part, Tim just looked stunned.

“You only just got confirmation of his identity, you can’t be ready to face him yet. Barreling into a fight just because you’re anxious to get things over with will just end in disaster.” Marinette couldn’t stop herself from groaning out loud and she heard Damian snicker at her. She was so tired of other people telling her how to handle things when they had no idea what was actually going on.

“I’m not barreling into anything. I’ve been looking at Gabriel as a suspect almost since the beginning. I know how he tends to operate, and the longer we wait the more likely he is to do something big that I may or may not be able to handle. It’s far better to take the fight to him than wait and see what he comes up with. If you don’t want to be a part of that fine, but don’t tell me what we are and are not prepared for.” He seemed taken aback but she honestly didn’t care. She knew what needed to be done and she wasn’t going to waste time explaining that to someone that might be helpful. Would having Tim hack Gabriel’s system so they could avoid surprises be helpful? Of course. Was it necessary? Nope. Worst case scenario she could just have Chloe Cataclysm the house and be done with it. That’s the mood she was in right now.

“I wasn’t saying I won’t help, I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through.” She leveled a glare at him that actually caused him to take a few steps back. Good, he should be afraid of her at this point. She could hear Chloe growling at him behind her which probably didn’t help.

“Your concern is noted. Now, if you don’t mind we need to hash out the details of our assault. So unless you have something constructive to add to the discussion I suggest you just listen.” Something in her tone seemed to finally penetrate and he gave a nod of acceptance. It was times like this she hated being a teenager. No one took her seriously until she forced them to.

AO3   Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

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[moody-bloosh]

I'm gonna add more heat by imagining s/O founding out she's pregnant after divorcing Bruno, perhaps she moved out and cut contact with Bruno,a few months into her pregnancy she met a man named risotto and fall in love again,Risotto treat her child as his and once her little angel is born, risotto is thrilled!he finally have a family, when your kid was around 5 Risotto suggested moving the back to Naples, she hesitate for a bit but then agree(1/2)

Anonymous said: For awhile after moving back, she didn't meet Bruno and it's almost as if he disappeared from her memories, but a part of her remember him as she saw her child, her Blue eys and deep black hair reminds her so much of him, she thought she wouldn't even saw him but that changed one day when she were at the store with her that she bumped into a familiar face (2/2)

hhnnNNnnNGggGG yES im so weak for this SKADnklasn this IS SO GREAT AHH (tagging this offshoot of cheater!bruno with rebound!risotto lol) 

yandere stuff so its under the cut! 

oh man i can see it as like, you knew you were pregnant and you decided. yeah, maybe you could handle being bruno’s second choice, but you would absolutely not stand for bruno making your child into a second choice. you tried to tell him, tried to share the good news with him but he was always blowing you off in favor of his lovers. and you decided right then and there that, that was the last straw. 

he didn’t deserve to know... and you just couldn’t stand being the couple that had their marriage salvaged by having a kid. your child didn’t deserve that and you didn’t want to subject them to that. so you make the choice to leave when bruno blows you off just as you’re about to tell him the news. 

bruno will react mostly the same, he’ll beg you to come back to him. but you stand firm in your decision to ask for a divorce. you meet risotto a few months after your divorce is finalized, bruno still tries to keep tabs on you every now and then. but oh, what’s this now? why were you with a new man? why were you holding a baby in your arms? 

he doesn’t even realize the baby is his, he’s too blinded by jealousy. that perfect picture of a happy family, that was supposed to be his. he falls into this spiral, and his jealousy gets even nastier when he finds out who risotto really is. he keeps close tabs on you. he stews in his jealousy, risotto took away his wife, his family. 

(oh, the day he found out that kid was actually his. his office was wrecked. how dare that risotto nero usurp his position? it was unforgivable, absolutely unforgivable...) 

when he finds out that you guys are moving to naples. you best believe that bruno has had plans set in place to get you to come back to him. he makes sure to, conveniently run into you at the store, drop some line about how, “even after all this time, you’re still the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen.” 

he ignores the fear that lights up your eyes, the wariness that punctuates your every movement, the way you hold onto your child’s hand a little tighter, how you shield them with your body. 

“what do you want, bruno?” 

“I just want to talk.” 

you tell your child to hurry off and find their dad (riSOTTO IS LOST IN THE SOUP AISLE PLS) and when your child runs off, bruno turns on you. his mask of civility replaced by jealousy, “how dare you lie to our child’s face like that? that monster isn’t their father and you know it, i am.” 

“the only monster i see here is you, bruno,” you hiss back at him, “and risotto is more of a father than you ever were.” 

“only because you ran away without even telling me.” bruno’s voice breaks a little as he tries to reach out to you, his heart twists painfully as he watches you flinch away from him. “why didn’t you tell me, amore?” 

“because you made it very clear that i was never your first choice.” 

bruno looks stricken at your cold tone but the remorse the blossoms in his chest comes to be replaced with venom as he watches ris walk up to you, your child on his shoulder. as he and risotto glare at each other, he makes the painful choice to retreat for now. mumbling a, “this isn’t over,” under his breath. bruno exits the store, already making it a point to contact some necessary people. 

he was going to get his family back again. 

[mandaloriangf]

the reylo batb au debacle

long post ahead. tw: racism

i. preface

i dont make call out posts. i think a lot of people abuse call outs, like that one reylo who made a post about me that just consisted of screenshots of me venting on my own blog in the proper tags. i dont know if i would call this a call out, per se. most people (antis, reylos, and bystanders) probably already know the gist of this situation. my reason for making this post is primarily because the original post of mine has gotten rather long with me reblogging it and adding on (you can see the most recent version here) and i would like to have more of a masterpost of sorts, since im a petty bitch who can’t let things go. 

ii. the story

i was alerted by an anon to a fic, which is an a/b/o beauty and the beast retelling with rey as belle and kylo as the beast. in gaston’s place is finn. i haven’t read the fic word for word nor do i want to, but i searched finn’s name in the fic and this is what came up.

(note: most of these screenshots are from my original post, but i’ve added on with chapters that have been published since then)

“Myself if necessary; somewhere out there is my mate, and I will wait for them.” She said resolutely, holding her breath against the smell of pine and charcoal rolling off him. She had never found Finn’s scent a pleasant one.

“I believe Rey is missing,” Finn said with a scowl. “and I don’t like it when my things go missing.”

“Rey has never been yours.” Obi snapped. “She’s not a piece of property.”

“Details.” Finn smirked. “Now, are you going to tell me where she’s really run off to? Or are you holding fast to your ridiculous story of monsters and secret castles?”

Obi narrowed his eyes, refusing to entertain the brute anymore than he had to. “I think it’s time you were on your way, Finn. Please feel free to head in the opposite direction should you feel the urge to call upon me again.”

Finn shook his head, rolling his eyes heavily. “I’ll be back, Obi. I will find out where Rey is hiding.”

Obi shut the door in his face quickly, eager to be rid of the boorish oaf. He leaned against the wood, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing gently to ease his frustration. He should have been more open to Finn’s help, he could take all of it that he could get. Still, seeking aid in Finn felt like escaping the hounds to land in the fire. Hardly an improvement.  

“She’s the only one who’s rejected me. Me. The nerve of her. No. This won’t stand. I’ll track her down if it’s the last thing I do.” Finn snarled.

Finn took a long swig from his freshly filled tankard the server had just finished capping off, a small smile playing at his mouth as his plan gained more and more merit in his mind. Rey would not allude him for much longer. He would find her, and show her exactly who she belonged to.

Charles frowned. “I don’t want Finn anywhere near Rey. I don’t trust him. He’d sooner force her into mating with him as rescue her.”

They crept deeper into the forest, making sure to maintain vigilance as they scanned the forest for anything strange. Finn wondered idly how Rey would have even made it through this woods, a mere woman. When he brought her back home, he would be sure to have a talk with her about what is and isn’t acceptable.

She scrambled backwards then, her back meeting Artoo’s haunches as he pranced away. She felt distress coursing through her, wanting no part of Finn or his strange obsession with her. “You’ll not touch me.”

“Shh.” He whispered. “You’re only confused. All will be well.”

“Leave, Finn. Go back to Jakku. No one wants you here, least of all me.” She spat.

He growled low, yanking her up by her hair. “You’ll learn your place, Rey. Once I bring you back to Jakku. First though, I will take care of the bastard who dared to touch what was mine.”

“I. Am. Not. Yours.” She ground out, her scalp smarting from the grip he still kept on her hair.

“You will be.” He assured darkly.

He didn’t realize he had lost until it was too late. He glanced down, the iron bolt plunged deep into his chest. For a moment he merely stared at it, his breath coming out in heavy pants as he tried to process what he was seeing. A gurgle sounded in his chest, coughing up a spray of blood. His mouth fell open in disbelief, taking a step backwards as his hand went to the bolt.

He gripped it in his fist, tugging it outwards and throwing it to the ground. His hands pawed at the hole in his chest, blood pouring over his fingers as he swayed slightly. His knees trembled, falling to be ground and kneeling. He gave a final shuddering breath, falling forward in a slump and going still. Rey dropped the bow as if it burned her, leaning her back against the tree she’d used to steady herself and gasping for breath. She felt relief and remorse in that moment, the knowledge that she’d taken a life outweighed only by the knowledge that she’d saved one.

(context: the above is rey murdering finn to save kylo)

as you can see, finn, star wars’ first ever black lead, is portrayed as a violent, aggressive, rapey misogynist who threatens rey psychically and sexually. he believes rey, a white woman, is his property and rey must kill him to save her lover, a white man. i mean, this whole thing should be very obvious. i dont care that its fiction, i dont care that its fanfiction. fiction does not exist in a vacuum and if you believe so, biases like this WILL go unchecked. 

i was infuriated after reading this and found a note where the author addresses previous accusations of racism

I was more or less labeled as a racist today for my characterization of Finn, and I felt the need to briefly address that. It was never my intention to lead anyone to believe that my dislike of Finn has anything to do with his race. I dislike his character canonically purely for reasons that have nothing to do with the color of his skin. I obviously realize he’s not a villain, and that he’s out of character. I will not apologize for the way that I’ve written him, as I know in my heart I meant no malicious intent, but I will apologize to anyone who has thought even in the slightest that I was being oppressive or insensitive. I know myself and that’s not who I am, and that was never my intention. I want to go ahead and post this because I don’t know when my next will be and I wanted to leave it on a good note. I don’t foresee a long gap, don’t worry, but at this moment I don’t feel good about the story and I need a few days to reassess where it is going.

iii. the comments

while i easily could’ve just moved on since there are a number of reylo fics out there much like this one, knowing that this one had such popularity and such a tone deaf author, i decided to venture into the comments and lo and behold, the amount of hate for finn was blinding. 

there are plenty more, but i hope this can give you a taste of what the comments section looks like. 

the author’s hate for finn basically boils down to this: he’s indecisive and he lied to rey. that’s it. that’s what the author uses to justify writing finn in a vicious, anti-black stereotype. 

at some point, an anonymous commenter called out the racism.

a concerned citizen: So are you ever gonna address how racist your characterization of Finn is or what.

ktf: Oh lord. No because it’s blatantly not true. He is characterized heavily in concordance with the classic Gaston character. Possessive, arrogant, pig headed… Your complaint is reaching and you can take it elsewhere. Jeez Louise. So silly. Have you even seen Beauty and the Beast? I don’t like Finn as a a character in canon for reasons that have nothing to do with his race (because I admittedly love John Boyega irl as well as in Pacific Rim, the only other film I’ve seen him in) and as such I characterize him as an asshole for my own self satisfaction.

a concerned citizen: Look I love Reylo as much as the next guy but if you need explaining why it’s racist to make the black character who is, in canon, nothing but a kind and supportive friend, into a sexually aggressive misogynist then I don’t know what to tell you. It costs zero dollars not to demonize black characters for your own “self satisfaction.”

ktf: So, to be clear, if I had used ANY other character from the film who had been kind and supportive, Poe, Han, Holdo, Leia, Snap, Kaydel, Luke… as long as they hadn’t been a POC it would totally fine? Do you see my confusion? It’s an alternate universe.

a concerned citizen: A: Demonizing black men as sexual aggressors bent on possessing/raping white women is a long-standing trope used by white supremacists. It’s done to dehumanize black men and drum up fear in white folk so that they feel threatened enough to commit acts of violence. This is one of the most basic tactics of antiblack racism.

B: Gaston was never a part of the original fairy tale. He was made up for the Disney adaptation to add tension and to counterbalance the Beast to make the message crystal clear for the little ones watching– don’t fear The Other. Gaston represents the cultural hegemony of masculine behavior in Belle’s culture; the Beast, on the other hand, is The Other, the outsider, the marginalized force. Black people have practically been The Other in Western media for centuries. Now I’m not telling you that you have to make Finn the Beast or else it’s bunk, just that you have to be aware of the characters’ roles and what they fulfill in the narrative. Making Finn the Gaston character was a conscious decision you made– you took a black character and plopped him into a role that was specifically made to be the representation of toxic masculinity, that decision isn’t made in a vacuum.

C: Absolutely no one is holding your feet to the fire to make sure that you follow the plotline of the source material verbatim. Certainly you took liberties with what form of beastliness Kylo had, so you could have similarly chose to alter Gaston’s characterization in some way or you could have made Finn a different character entirely. Like I mentioned before, Gaston was not in the original fairy tale and so the narrative works fine without him. Finn exhibits none of Gaston’s character traits in canon so you chose willingly to sand him down so you could fit a square peg in a round hole– an action that, as mentioned previously, reflects the rhetoric of white supremacy for the past few centuries.

ktf: Okay. You know what? You obviously woke up this morning itching for a soapbox. So, may the force be with you and may your crusade keep you warm at night. This is a fan fiction, not a doctoral thesis, so if you don’t mind I’m just going to continue living my life. I can assure you no thoughts of “demonizing” a race ever crossed my mind while writing this. It’s not who I am. This doesn’t deserve my time because you, A. Know nothing about me. B. Obviously have way too much time on your hands. C. Aren’t worth the stress you’re causing. Have a blessed day!

iv. the aftermath

since my original post, i have been silently blocked by the author. antis who are poc have gotten anon hate, which has often been radicalized while i, a white anti, have not received anything wrt this fic. the author has gotten cocky about the whole situation, she has a bunch of adoring readers who coddle her, and she refuses to listen to any form of criticism.

now that i’m at the end of this post, i’m not really sure what i want to come out of it. i wanted to include more, but there’s so much shit to wade through in the comments and that doesn’t even account for what’s on the author’s tumblr. reylos, this shit has to fucking stop. you need to hold each other accountable, you need to call each other out bc this is exhausting. 

[mrschangrettawrites]

Hell Hath No Fury

Summary: You had been betrayed for the last fucking time

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Reader (formerly), Tommy Shelby x Grace (mentioned), Luca Changretta x Reader (main)

Words: 3374

Notes: Spoilers for season four, female reader, I should be working on other things but instead I’m doing this. Drag me. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

IT HAS BEEN FOREVER I KNOW IM SORRY FGNFGNFDJ I KEEP GETTING DISTRACTED

Tagging: @blinder-secrets @timeless-flogging @decaffeinatedeaglefart @goghadventuring @sophspark@possiblyafangirl @buckybarnesisalittleshit @aya-fay @evanpeters3826 if you would like to be tagged in future chapters just send in a message!

One // Two // Three // Four

Chapter Five

You returned to your mum’s place through the back just like when you left, and found her in hysterics.

“Where have you been?!” She shrieked. “Curly said you were nearly killed by those Italians! Why didn’t you come straight back here? I thought something had happened to you!”

Seeing the tears well up in your mum’s eyes, a wave of shame overcame you. You honestly didn’t think Curly would say anything about what had happened to your mum, but everyone was so on edge now that it really shouldn’t have surprised you.

“I’m sorry mum.” You said gently, hugging her tight. “I just...I needed some air.”

Before you set foot in the direction of your mum’s home you had decided to keep her in the dark about your plan. Not because you didn’t trust her, but because you needed her to be safe. With everything else falling away, your mum was all you had and you didn’t want her tangled up in this. You were going to shoulder this alone, for better or worse.

“Mum.” You inhaled deeply, gently holding your mum by her shoulders. “I’m going back to Tommy.”

The look of utter despair and heartbreak on your mum’s face made you feel even worse, which you didn’t think would be possible.

“No.” She said, trying to be firm but her voice cracked right at the end. “No I can’t let you do that. He’s broken your heart again, how many times does he have to hurt you until you leave?”

You didn’t answer. You knew that taking Tommy back was essential to your plan, but it didn’t make you feel any better about how your mum felt. “At least one more time.” You finally said grimly.

The tears were free flowing now, and your mum couldn’t hold back, begging you to not go back to Thomas, to stay here as long as necessary, to finally abandon the Shelby name.

“Mamma,” you said softly, “ti prego fidati di me.”

There was a brief pause, and your mum looked up at you, eyes shining from the tears. She set her mouth in a thin line. “Spero tu sappia cosa stai facendo.”

‘So do I.’

When Thomas got home that night, he found you in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of tea. You were using a blend you made yourself that had jasmine, pear, and peppermint. An odd mix of flavours perhaps, but you were fond of it and you knew Thomas would know what the smell meant.

Sure enough, moments after you heard the front door close, you saw Thomas at the doorway. He stared at you like it was the first time he ever saw you, and he was afraid it would be his last. “You’re back.” He whispered.

“Yes.” You took the pot to the table where you had set out two tea cups, filling both of them. “Although my mum isn’t too happy about it.” You said.

“I-I can imagine.” Slowly, Thomas approaches you, watching you for a reaction.

Seeing him act like a skittish foal made you smile even wider, but you kept your expression kind rather than mocking, and you even reached out for his hand. You gently held the tips of his fingers, keeping your grip soft and unthreatening. “Before you say anything.” You said, noticing Thomas open his mouth. “You need to know, that this is the last time this happens.” You look up at him, expression somber but trying to be kind and calm about it. It was one you had worn before and you didn’t need to put much practice and effort into it. “If another woman comes out of the woodwork, I’m gone. For good.”

In a flash Thomas is holding your hand with both of his and bringing it up to his lips. “I understand.” His voice is hushed, eyes closed, and his head is bent, like he’s in church, while brushing his lips along your knuckles. “I-I know I don’t deserve it, or you.”

‘No you fucking don’t.’

“But I swear to you, this will be the last time I will hurt you.” He takes your face into his hands and brings you close, his clear blue eyes staring into yours with a tenderness you hadn’t seen since before the war.

It almost makes you believe him.

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” He kisses your forehead softly, before trailing his lips to your left temple and nuzzling his nose in your hair. He inhales deeply. “I let Lizzie go.” He said softly, watching you for some kind of reaction.

This surprised you. You had planned to trying to persuade Thomas to fire Lizzie, both because it was part of your plan, and out of sheer pettiness. Just because you were ready to use Thomas that didn’t mean you were over this betrayal. “You didn’t have to do that.” You said softly.

“Yes I did.”

For a few moments, the two of you stood in silence. But while Thomas’s silence was that of a supplicant, yours was of the kind that lingers in the rooms of schemers and traitors.

“Who will replace her?” You asked carefully, bringing one of the teacups up to Thomas for him to take.

“Don’t know.” He took the cup, sipping it while still gazing at you.

“Could…” You bite your bottom lip as you picked up the other teacup, doing your best to appear hesitant. “Could I…” You trail off purposefully, taking a nervous gulp of the tea, counting on Tommy to pick up what you had put down.

He looked at you with confusion, his brow furrowed. “Do you want to?”

You shrug shyly, acting as if you never meant to bring the possibility forward. “I just...I would feel safer, knowing you were there.” You put a hand on his arm, fighting back the sudden surge of revulsion that had overcome you. “And it could be good for us…”

A third reason is left in the space between you two. You could keep a closer eye on him if you were his secretary, make sure he was keeping his promise. It was a gamble, you had known that when the idea began to take shape in your mind, but it was one you were willing to take. Lord knew you had taken worse ones.

The air becomes still and tense, as you drink the rest of your tea with genuine nervousness, never taking your eyes off Thomas. You may have told him he was forgiven, but he knew that it was going to take a lot of work to go back to the way things used to be, and he knew that you knew that too.

“Ok.” He set his tea down, putting his arms around you and resting his forehead against yours. “Starting tomorrow eh?”

You nod, and when Thomas closes his eyes, you allow yourself a moment to let out the daggers that had been hiding behind yours.

Even without anyone saying anything, you knew that they all knew. You knew it from the pitying looks, the attempts to not look directly at you, the excessive niceties. The only one who didn’t act like anything was different was Arthur, who greeted you with a grin and then a hug.

“It’ll be good to have ya about.” He said, leading you to your new desk. “Tommy is always better with you around.”

‘No he isn’t.’

But you smile back and rest your hand on Arthur’s arm and gently squeeze. “At least I’m out of the house finally.” You joked, feeling the releasing of tension in your muscles. The two of you had always got on well, like a house on fire. You appeared to be the only one with the patience and endurance to handle Arthur’s erratic outbursts, and the one who was always the most ready to forgive him for anything he had done while in one of his blind rages. Under all the gangster bluster, Arthur had a good heart. Had he been born into a different family, a different life, he could’ve been someone great. All the Shelbys could’ve.

“I’m goin’ to visit Michael later, do you want to come with me?”

The offer was touching, and made you guiltily remember how the only time you had visited Michael was when he was in his coma. Seeing him had put the fear of God in your heart, and made you avoid the hospital because of it. “Yeah, yeah, I would.”

“Good, sorted.” Arthur loitered by your desk as you took your seat and familiarized yourself with everything on it and in the drawers. Every trace of Lizzie was gone.

“Listen, Name…” He swallowed, looking away. “I-I didn’t know. About Lizzie.”

Well, perhaps not every trace.

“I know.” You said, in a hushed voice. The night before, Thomas had assured you that the only Shelbys that were privy that his very brief, but fruitful, affair were him and Polly. And you believed him, because you knew that the rest of them would never hide something like that from you. “It’s alright Arthur.”

“No it bloody well isn’t.” The gruffness in his voice, not to mention the words themselves, surprised you. You hadn’t expected Arthur to take this stance, as even in the worst times he always stood by Thomas. But it seemed he had reached his limit, same as you. “You were always good to Tom. You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed, like you had with his arm. “I’m sorry.”

It was the only apology that you had heard that you believed.

“Everything alright here?”

Thomas had emerged from his office, eyes flitting between you and his brother. The slight tightness in his tone, not to mention the way he was looking at the two of you, made you sick. He always got like that whenever he started to feel jealous and/or possessive, two feelings that in your humble opinion, Thomas had no right to feel anymore.

“Jus’ fine Tom.” Arthur drew his hand back, also recognizing what was beginning to form in Thomas. He gave you one last smile before he left the two of you to your devices.

After a tense silence, Thomas turned to you, his gaze now soft. “May Carlton is coming later.”

Another name that set you on edge. Before this, you had assumed that May was merely some posh girl who had a taste for bad men, and was largely harmless. But you had thought the same of Grace too. Thomas had not admitted to anything going on between him and May, but it was hard to ignore the possibility.

You found the appointment in the diary, in Lizzie’s handwriting. You wondered how Lizzie felt, seeing that name staring up at her, in her own hand. It gave you a small sense of sadistic pleasure. “Do I need to prepare anything?” You asked, keeping everything conversational.

“No, it’s fine.”

For a few moments, the two of you just stand in silence.

Thomas swallows, his Adam’s apple slowly descending before going back up again. For a split second, you imagined sticking a bullet, or even a knife, into that piece of flesh. The next, you pictured sinking your teeth into it, tearing the skin and muscle away completely. See how well Thomas lies without a throat.

You swallowed down those fantasies and forced yourself to kiss him gently. It was barely a kiss really, the kind the two of you used to exchange when you were both still young and could still feel delirious happiness when around each other. Quick, chaste, easily kept secret.

The connection had never even occurred to you, you had simply done it because you felt that it was something that you should do, given the circumstances. But it wasn’t lost on Thomas.

He gazed at you like he didn’t entirely believe that you were real, like if he looked away he would lose you.

Well he could look all he liked. You weren’t coming back.

“Arthur and I are going to visit Michael later.” You said softly, taking delight in the way your breath on Thomas’s lips made him inhale sharply, his eyes traveling down to your lips. “Is there anything you want me to give him or tell him?”

To anyone else, the question was perfectly innocent. But it’s implication was anything but; I’m going somewhere and I don’t want you there. The fact that you would be accompanied by Arthur, whom Thomas seemed to be rather jealous of now, added another layer to it. He needn’t worry though, Arthur loved Linda too much to do anything that would hurt or humiliate her.

“No, it’s alright.” Thomas paused, then went over to you and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Everything’s going to work out, I promise.” He whispered into your hair.

“I know.”

‘Just not for you.’

The rest of the day passed without event, until May turned up.

She looked at you with wide, slightly frightened eyes. You had conversed only once, before the horse auction, and she had shown no seen of fear then. Even if you hadn’t caught the look of guilt on her face, you would’ve known from that alone.

“Mrs Shelby.” She said by way of greeting, while looking directly over your shoulder. “Good afternoon.”

“And you Mrs Carlton.” You smiled warmly while rising from your seat. “Tommy is expecting you.” You lead May to the large double doors that seperated Thomas’s office from the rest of the betting shop, and opened them without knocking.

Thomas looked up from his desk and for a split second he looked like he was going to say something snippy until he saw that was just you and May. He waited and watched the two of you approach him, shaking May’s hand. “Thank you for coming Mrs Carlton.” He said formally, like he was trying to emphasize that there was no kind of personal connection between them.

“I’ll leave you two too it.” You said before excusing yourself, enjoying the tense look Thomas and May exchange and that you pretended not to see. Who knew you possessed a sadistic streak.

While looking over paperwork that Lizzie hadn’t been able to complete prior to her dismissal, you heard a throat being cleared. You looked up and saw an ashamed Polly.

‘How many more fake apologies do I have to sit through?’

“Polly.” You kept your voice soft and lowered your eyes, as if embarrassed.

“Do you have a moment?” She asked.

“Of course.” Let her try and defend herself, it was too late for her anyway.

Polly swallowed thickly and she blinked a few times, which she only did when trying to calm herself. Especially when she’s close to tears. “I know you have no right to forgive me, or believe anything I say, but I am sorry for keeping this from you.”

You lifted your gaze, still looking like a wounded deer. You should’ve entered the world of theater.

“Leaving it for Tommy or Lizzie to tell you was cowardly.”

‘You’re fucking right it was.’

“You’re a part of this family, have been for years, and you deserved better. I-” She cut herself off and nervously bit her bottom lip. “I should’ve gone to you straight away. We can’t afford to have division in this family, especially now with everything happening.”

You nodded, making yourself look grim. “I understand.” You said softly. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” That was an absolute lie of course, but you needed to keep playing your part, even if it made your stomach churn. You stood up and walked around the desk, embracing Polly. “Thank you.”

If Polly was surprised by the hug, she didn’t show it. She just wrapped her arms around you. For a moment, everything felt normal. You weren’t having homicidal fantasies, scheming the downfall of the fledgling Shelby empire, and planning a fate worse than death for your husband.

When you pulled away, the moment was gone and you were back in reality. It almost hurt.

“All is forgiven.” You assured her. “If I can forgive Tommy then I can forgive you.” You added as a joke, smiling as you did so.

Polly snorted and shook her head. “You have the patience of a saint with that boy.”

You nearly laughed at that, but you managed to hold it in and just nodded. “How are you doing? Are you ok?”

“Not really.” Polly admitted, getting out a cigarette and lighting it. “Every time I close my eyes I imagine Luca Changretta pressing a gun to Michael’s head.”

The same thought had occurred to you, so your sympathy was sincere this time when you spoke. “Tommy has guards watching Michael around the clock.” You reminded her. “I doubt a fly will be able to get into Michael’s room without being interrogated.”

Polly chuckled and smiled a little. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It’s just stupid paranoia.”

“It isn’t stupid.” You said gently. “We’ve already lost John. If anything, I would be concerned if you weren’t paranoid.”

Polly exhaled smoke and looked at you thoughtfully. “I always thought you were a good influence on this family. Especially Tommy.” She tapped her cigarette on the glass ashtray on your desk. “We’re lucky to have you.”

That really almost got you going. “I do my best.” You joked.

The moment was interrupted by the telephone ringing, making you both jump.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Polly said, patting your hand with a smile before leaving.

Sitting back in your chair, you picked up the receiver and picked up a pencil, ready to take notes if necessary. “Shelby Company Limited.” You said cheerily. “How may I help you?”

“Name, your plan’s already started to come together I see.”

Luca Changretta’s voice sent a jolt down your spine and you sat up straighter, keeping yourself as calm as possible as you did your best to act like this was just another normal call. “Yes sir, this is Mr Shelby’s secretary.”

A deep chuckle came through, making you shiver in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. “I want to talk, how about coming back to the hotel?”

“Let me check Mr Shelby’s diary.” You replied, pretending to look over Thomas’s diary. “Is later this afternoon doable for you sir?”

“Perfect.” It almost came out as a purr, and again you thought a very big, very dangerous cat. “Where should I have Matteo pick you up?”

“I’m afraid Mr Gray is in the hospital sir.” You said, hoping that Luca Changretta would pick up on your hint. “But I will be able to pass on a message.”

“Across the street from the hospital it is.” Either your ears were deceiving you, or Luca Changretta was genuinely amused by this. “I look forward to it.”

At the sound of footsteps you looked up and saw Arthur standing just a meter away, waiting for you to be finished with the call. “I’ll pass it on to him right away sir.” You said. “Is there anything else?”

“Not at all. I’ll see you later bella.”

He hung up before you had the chance to do so, leaving you feeling a little flustered and trying very hard to hide it.

“Everything ok?”

You looked up at Arthur and smiled, able to calm yourself just enough to not raise suspicion. “Yeah, just taking a call.” You got up from the desk, with legs that had somehow gotten weaker, and went to Arthur, linking your arm with his to help steady yourself. “Everything’s fine.”

Arthur smiled down at you. “Good. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

For the first time, a twinge of guilt appeared in your heart.

Translations:

Mamma ti prego fidati di me-Mom, please trust me (according to google translate)

Spero tu sappia cosa stai facendo-I hope you know what you are doing (according to google translate)

Bella-Beautiful (according to google translate)

[sanders-specs]

Camp Swan Chapter 3

A/N: Yay we’ve survived another week! Hope everything is going okay for ya. If not then I’m confident it will! Stay strong :) For now let’s delve back into our summer camp adventures. 

Warnings: Swearing, homophobic slurs, bullying, intentionally not eating, social anxiety (at least how I understand it. Again, if I get anything wrong feel free to let me know) 

Parings: None. Just a flirty Roman

part 1| Previous

tag list: @princeyssash

“Well,” Roman says as the new kid blocked them all out, “he’s going to be a joy to room with, isn’t he?”

Logan sighs. “It seems that we have a troublemaker as a roommate, yes.”

“Now, now, I think he just doesn’t understand how great camp is just yet,” Patton says, speaking for the first time since Virgil ridiculed his favorite place on earth. “Give him some time and he’ll come around.”

“I don’t know,” Roman says doubtfully. “People like him never seem like the type to just ‘come around.’”

“Nevertheless,” Logan says, turning back to his thing to continue unpacking. “We shan’t let Virgil’s negative attitude damper our camp experience. Roman, I understand that this is your third year here, yes?”

“Yep!” Roman says proudly. “Though this is my first time meeting you.”

“Oh you’ll love Lo!” Patton exclaims. “He’s so smart, he knows just about everything.”

“If I knew everything then I would have at least a dozen Nobel Peace Prizes at this point in my life,” Logan says, “as well as a cure for all illnesses. As great as that would be, it is, in fact, false.”

“But you are smart,” Patton says.

“Yes, that is a correct statement.” Logan puts the last of his clothes into his closet and turns to Roman. “I suppose we should get the annoying, frivolous questions out of the way. Why do you enjoy coming to Camp Swan?”

Roman blinked at him, glancing at Patton for help but Patton was just sitting and staring at Roman curiously, like he was wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Well for instance,” Logan says, “I come because the particular forest that the camp is located is home to many species of plants that I would not have a chance to study through the rest of the year. I’ve been studying them every year since my first year and have been documenting their changes as our planet’s climate has changed. The camp provides the necessary resources for studying them as well, which is handy.”

“And I’m here because I love it!” Patton exclaims.

“Yes it seems that Patton enjoys the togetherness that Camp Swan brings,” Logan says with a slightly exasperated sigh. “I can’t say I understand, however I don’t judge him for it.”

“So what about you Roman? What does Camp Swan mean to you?” Patton asks.

“Ah,” Roman says, looking as if he understood better. “I come because it gives me a chance to work on all of my talents. Singing, acting, dancing…well okay I’m still working on the dancing part. Plus their equestrian training is fantastic!”

Logan had to admit that he was slightly impressed that Roman knew the word equestrian, though if anyone would be apt at horseback riding, it looked to be Roman. The other boy looked to be in fair shape, with big biceps that strained against his shirt showing that he worked out. Logan could also see through the tight t-shirt that Roman probably had what was known as a toned stomach as well. It distantly occurred to him to wonder just why Roman insisted on wearing clothing that was just a bit too tight. It did not seem comfortable.

“Look I know I’m handsome but you don’t have to stare,” Roman says.

Logan blinks. Had he been staring? He supposed that he must have, if Roman seemed to have thought so. “My apologies,” Logan says. “I was simply wondering why you would not wear better fitting clothes. We are at a camp after all, wouldn’t you want to be as comfortable as possible?”

Roman stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Frowning, Logan looks at Patton who seemed to be trying to hide a smile. “What? What did I say?”

Roman just kept laughing. He clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Man, Patton said you were smart, he didn’t tell me you were funny too.”

“I was not trying to be,” Logan says, shrugging off Roman’s hand. The other boy didn’t look offended, he just grinned at Logan.

“To me, this is comfortable,” Roman says, showing off his muscles that strained against his clothing. “It’s snug but not too snug, you know?”

Logan sighs and shakes his head. “I do not, but I suppose I will have to take your word for it.”

“Logan likes his facts,” Patton informs Roman. “He likes things to be straightforward.”

“Then I will respect that!” Roman declares, sounding for all the world like a royal. “or try to,” he adds in a calmer voice.

Patton sat on the floor, grabbing one of his nearby plushies and hugging it to his chest. He looks at Virgil, who still had his back to the rest of them, seeming to either not care about the conversation or not hearing it. “Do you think he meant what he said?” Patton wonders aloud. “That his parents hate him?”

“Oh please,” Roman says with a laugh. “Teenagers like him think that world is against them. honestly they’re a pain to deal with.”

Patton frowns. “Well something must make them feel that way.”

“Perhaps,” Logan says, knowing that it was futile to convince Patton of anything less. “However, we cannot force him to tell us anything he does not want to. Nor can we force him to enjoy camp. It will have to be up to him.”

Patton sighs a defeated sigh, but he nods. “You’re right as always Lo.” Patton turns his attention back to the ceiling. “Hey Roman, we haven’t finished the stars!”

“Right,” Roman jumps to his feet, gathering the stars they still had left to stick to the ceiling and walls.

Sighing, Logan turns towards the door. “I’ll get a chair.”

After a few hours, Thomas came back by the room to find Patton, Logan, and Roman all sitting on the ground in the middle of a game of Uno and Virgil lying on his bed, eyes closed and headphones on.

“Hey guys,” Thomas says. He points to Virgil, eyebrows creased. “Why didn’t you invite Virgil to play with you?”

“We did but Dr. Gloom and Doom seems to be too good for us,” Roman says, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Not really knowing what to say to that, Thomas just changes the subject. “O-Okay then. Anyway, the assembly is starting soon so we should all head over.”

The boys all nodded and stopped the game, even though Roman was complaining that he was just about to win (Thomas had seen that he had the most cards out of everyone, but even Roman’s roommates didn’t seem to want to correct him) and the three of them walked past Thomas and into the lounge. Thomas frowns, looking into the room where Virgil was still lying. It didn’t even look like he’d unpacked.

“Aren’t you guys going to get Virgil?” Thomas asks.

“He made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with us and to leave him alone,” Logan says matter-of-factly. “We are simply answering his request.”

Thomas frowns disapprovingly at them and looks at Patton. The more kind-hearted boy shifted uncomfortably on his feet, avoiding Thomas’s gaze. It was clear that he felt guilty, but the fact that he wasn’t countering Logan’s statement meant that he agreed.

Thomas sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “Look guys, we’re not going to get anywhere this summer if you exclude your roommate. It’s just going to make things miserable for everyone.”

The boys all slump, but Patton sighs and walks back into the room to retrieve Virgil.

Virgil stood in the back of the crowd, playing with his fidget cube as he watched the head of the camp, Joan they told the campers to call them, talking about all the different activities at the camp and how they would all rotate throughout the summer. Virgil wasn’t really listening. He was too focused on not focusing on how close he was being forced to stand to complete strangers. Thomas stood behind him, his arms crossed like some kind of officer making sure that the prisoners didn’t try to run for it. Virgil had to admit that he thought about it, but where would he go?

He couldn’t see his other roommates anywhere, as they had run off as soon as they’d gotten there, but that was probably for the better. He’d snapped at them enough earlier. Every time Patton tried to get him to play a game with them or talk with them, he’d snap. Every time Roman was being obnoxiously loud—so loud that he penetrated the bliss Virgil’s music provided—he snapped. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to get through the summer with those two. At least Logan seemed to understand when someone wanted to be left alone.

“Alright, I think that about does it!” Joan says. “Now is time to get some grub! Head on to the mess hall.”

The crowd dispersed, and Virgil turned. Thomas was still standing there, looking down at him. “Care to go get something to eat?” he asks.

Virgil rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to lead me around like a lost puppy. I’ll just follow the crowd.”

Thomas gives Virgil a smile he knew all too well. It was a smile that said he was close to losing his patience with Virgil but he had to be nice so he was going to smile through the pain. “Alright, be sure to be back at the cabin by sundown.”

Virgil just nodded and started following the flow of the crowd. Usually finding the source of food was easy, because that’s where everyone always gathered. It was the same for any animal in the animal kingdom, humans no exception.

As he was walking, though, he heard someone behind him laugh just a bit too loud for it to be conspicuous. “Who plays with one of those things unless they’re a fucking child?” someone said.

Virgil glanced over and saw a boy about a foot taller than him with long brown hair that reached his shoulders and a mischievous smirk on his lips. He was looking right at Virgil, or rather at the fidget cube in his hand.

Scowling, Virgil turns away from him, shoving the cube into his pocket. The last thing he wanted to do was to deal with morons. He just wanted to get something to eat and disappear into his cabin as soon as possible.

A hand came down on his shoulder, stopping him. “Hey, faggot,” the boy says, “got any more of those sissy cubes? You know they say not to bring anything unless you want to share with the class.”

“Get out of my face,” Virgil growls.

The boy raises his eyebrows. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said get out of my fucking face,” Virgil says, yanking himself out of the boy’s grip. “and get a life. The only childish one here is you.”

No one around them seemed to notice or care about the exchange, not that Virgil was surprised. No one ever care about losers like himself. The boy reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. “No one talks to me that way,” he growls.

“First time for everything then,” Virgil says, not backing down.

The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved Virgil back so hard that he fell on his ass in the damp mud. The boy stood over him, glaring. Before Virgil knew what was happening, the boy’s good connected with Virgil’s ribs.

“That’ll teach you to talk back to me, you emo fag,” the boy says spitting on Virgil’s arm. He walked off, leaving Virgil on the ground.

Rubbing his sore ribs, Virgil picked himself up, the whole situation coming back to him. He felt his limbs shaking, his breathing becoming sparse. He looked around, but he was alone. Everyone else had disappeared in the mess hall. He looked at the now crowded building and shook his head. He couldn’t go in there, not looking like this. It would just make that boy feel even better, and probably make Virgil the butt of a lot of jokes. No he couldn’t go in there. He’d just eat breakfast in the morning. He didn’t need food tonight.

So Virgil turned and forced himself to walk back to his cabin. He needed to be alone. He needed to change. He needed to be free of this fucking camp.

Chapter 4

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OR

Saying your on your period should be an accepted blanket statement that just means that. With no negative stigma. But even today it immediately tarnishes women with the negative associations that have been attached to menstorating.

This is a problem that runs deep, write down to the vernacular used by everyone like ‘sanitary’, adding products on the end does change the strong associations we have with it. So lets rid ourself of that word right now. We want period positive words and association so the next generation of menstruators, who single handedly make human life on earth possible, don’t think that their monthly cycle is anything but positive and necessary.

Our actions must also be checked, no hiding pads or tampons up your sleeve, its fundamental to life, don’t be ashamed. try starting a period positive conversation today, you don’t have to get into the ebbs and flows, but bringing it into conversation will break down the walls up put but those who don’t know how truly detrimental negative period shaming is to women, and how subconsciously seeing how well blue liquid absorbs, will not be telling her what she goes threw every month is natural and a sign of good health.

As far as progression in this bloody field goes, we have a long way to ahead.

Explaining your on your period should not be come with bad blood, but it does.

So lets smash the negative, by blasting positive,

It is what it is, as much a necessity, as a blessing;

we are guaranteed to bleed,

If we’re lucky.

It began as an ad campaign, using a mix of traditional advertising and gorilla advertising. Where stickers would be sent out, to anyone who followed social platform/posted on/used hashtag and then stuck threw out the country,  that would spark period positive conversations, and T shirts could be purchased and the profits would go towards period positive education. This was going to be accompanied by a short video of women walking down a sunny street wearing the emblem of G. T. B on there bums, by powerful women, who own it, love it, are proud of it. Like a bag of honour.

But from doing more and more focus groups I feel the need for platform where real conversations and information could be accessed by everyone. So from there I decided to write a G.T.B manifesto, anyone who signs the manifesto and reposts etc. gets sent stickers. The manifesto will be on a G.T.B website where there are forums where real people can talk about there experiences and find others that have been threw similar issues to do with mensuration.

Sanitary products, scarp that, bad connotation. It implies its that being on your period is unclean.

Menstral control

Period products

. Products

So

smash the negative, by blasting positive

Target 17-25 women and men

The audience was chosen for its wide reach, the younger audience will be influenced by the 17-25 year olds

Mix of gorilla advertising

And

a conventional advertising campaign, a video, possible posters made ephemera etc.

Stylized blood stain/ ‘sexy’ blood stain

To be attached to jeans, trousers etc.

in video blood stain is worn by powerful women, who own it, love it, are proud of it. Like a bag of honour

Stickers to be made of ‘sexy’ blood stain with the words - guaranteed to bleed

To be given out for everyone who signs up via email/fb/insta/twitter, Free T-shits and stickers for posts and use of hash tag we(a case for her) think is awesome

I would like to address info-structure and systems, but this is not it

https://aeon.co/essays/throughout-history-and-still-today-women-are-shamed-for-menstruating

Quotes from link above

As recently as 1980, I was told by a farmer’s wife in Shropshire that if a menstruating woman touched meat it would go rancid.

Right into the 20th century, any inappropriate behaviour or poor mental health in women was termed hysteria, after the Greek word for ‘uterus’.

The paediatrician Béla Schick (1877-1967) believed that menstruating women released plant-destroying substances called ‘menotoxins’ through their skin. In 1919, he ‘proved’ it by asking women to arrange cut flowers. Sure enough, the flowers arranged by menstruating women died sooner.

The Yurok of California believed that if a woman’s menstruation failed to synchronise with the Moon, or with her fellow women, she could balance herself ‘by sitting in the moonlight and talking to the Moon’.

It was not until 1985 that the word ‘period’ was used in a television commercial; and in 2010, US TV networks banned a tampon commercial from using the word ‘vagina’ or even ‘down there’. To this day, advertisers use a mysterious blue liquid to demonstrate the absorbency of sanitary towels.

In a comment piece for The Tablet Catholic magazine in 2016, the British theologian Carmody Grey wrote: ‘If any other event caused me or anyone that amount of pain, disruption and blood loss, it would feature largely in our social interactions … Quite simply, women bleed and suffer so that others can live … Quite literally, shedding blood for the life of humanity is just what women do.’

Menstrual Matters, Period Positive, The Bloody Waste! and Ragtime Revolution.

http://washinschoolsmapping.com/5th-annual-virtual-conference-on-menstrual-hygiene-management-in-wash-in-schools.html

Questionnaire

(Making question more normalised, less clinical for results, this also put forward the idea of it being normal thing to talk about)

Focus group of two (friends- also might bring out more information)

18-40 year olds

Im conducting a studying into to period shaming and the awareness around menstration. For the sake of the data please answers as honestly as possible and please difolge as much as you want.  

Let start with some nick names for periods

(female)

Tell me about your first period, and how was this addressed by those around you at the time

How did you feel about getting your period

did you feel prepared, did you know what to expect, and do you feel those expectations have changed

If yes, how

If no, how

did you feel supported by your family and friends

Did you feel comfortable talking about your period this with friends

Do you have a happy memory attached to having your period

Do you have a uncomfortable memory attached to having your period

do you feel comfortable talking about periods in a mix gender group

Have any positive associations with menstration that have followed you threw out your life

Have any negative connotations attached to menstral cycle followed you threw out your life

If you could giving a younger you advice concerning menstration what would you say?

would you feel comfortable asking someone else to buy sanitary products for you?

anything you would like to add to this decision? Or point you would like to talk about…

(Male)

Tell me about your first encounter with someone having a period,  tell me about it

how has your understanding changed since your first encounter (with periods)

when did a female friends first talk to you about periods

Have you ever bought sanitary products for someone else

If yes, tell me a bit about it

If no, tell me about that

Do you have a happy memory attached to periods

Do you have a uncomfortable memory attached to periods

Do you feel comfortable being in a group talking about periods

Have any positive associations with menstration that have followed you threw out your life

Have any negative association attached to menstral cycle followed you threw out your life

If you could giving a younger you advice concerning menstration what would you say?

Have you ever assumed a women is in her period from her behour

anything you would like to add to this decision? Or point you would like to talk about…

Thinking bigger

Could this be a template to tackle other issues that suppress women?

Body dismophia/eating disorder etc.

Sexism

The Brief- to demolish the negative stima attached around periods.

Approach is to implement effective commutation with women and men, my target is 18 to 30 years old. I feel this demographic hits an even wider audience because this is an age group that influence the younger coming or age of menstration women.

Reseach from focus group I have conducted have shown

- a lack of communication, we just don’t talk about periods

-the education into periods, its not discussed how different periods can be for everyone and about its mental and emotional impact

My solutions would be a campaign with the outcomes in the form of a provocative brand identity, video, website/platform/forums and stickers and T shirts. Using a mix of gorilla advertisement via stickers, and a traditional approach via a video, with the back bone of a manifesto/declaration that people can get behind/re post/feel part of a wider community that cares and also share advice/ information.

Tone causally, humous, provocative and conversational

Script

What we need is to start having the conversation.

Taking back the power.

Once we start having the conversation, it becomes normalised, and quality of life improves for all.

Then we can start having conversations about other areas of improvement within the human race. (Fingers click/epiphany) We need a Kyle Jenner of periods,

(Friends reaction )

Yeah yeah (brushes off their surprises off), but she paved the way, the turn over from taboo to praised and idolised was impressive.

If we could get this in the home, in schools, at the work place, its only a matter of time before people stop giving a shit and get on with life.

Don’t get me wrong, I know this is a problem that runs deep, right down to the words we use… and don’t use.

(Like said like its an obvious example) Like sanitary, shoving products on the end doesn’t exactly rid ourselves of the strong reminders of sewage, does it.

We want period positive words and associations so that the next generation of menstruators, who single handedly make human life on earth possible, don’t think that their monthly cycle is anything but positive and necessary.

As far as progression in this bloody field goes, we have a long way ahead.

Explaining you are on your period should not be come with bad blood, but it does.

So let’s smash the negative, by blasting positive,

It is what it is, as much a necessity as a blessing;

we are guaranteed to bleed,

If we’re lucky.

situations

Sticker seen about

Video seen about

Person visits site

Person starts a conversation about periods

Threw out the website it promotes the idea of starting a period positive conversations.

pushing the idea by giving the power back to the indiviual, by signing up/agreeing with the manifesto G.T.B you are sent stickers to use as you see fit.

menomite- someone who has sex with women on their period

Forums

A good place to start, with a few forums set up initially to get the conversations going.

Chapter one, my first period. - a place to share stories of firsts, first period, first time you leaked, first time you had sex while on your period.

The good the bad and the ugly - home truths, facts.

there aren’t any. period - talking about how different periods can be, how no two are the same, and that lots of people have complications, a ‘you are not alone’ feel.

i don’t like tampons. they’re stuck up cunts - talking about different forms of period products. first had accounts, anecdotes.

Alternate names

Take back the power

Take back

Its ours

Some of us bleed

Some bleed

Lets bleed

Lets start

We’re in it together

in it together

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt43

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

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The next week was highly amusing for Damian. He’d warned Ladybug that the League wouldn’t like her ultimatum and after seeing their reactions she agreed that they would need to take steps. As soon as they got back she disappeared for three hours before coming back with the Horse Miraculous. Since he knew all the heroes, including civilian identities, she was trusting him to find and get rid of anyone who decided they didn’t need to listen to her. The feeling he had was like what most people feel on Christmas morning, at least from his understanding.

None of his family tried to enter Paris since they’d been given a task but he kind of wished Todd would have decided to try. As it was he spent his time finding heroes and transporting them to remote locations. He got to leave Superman in the Amazon, twice. The second time he took his luggage to an undisclosed location which wouldn’t have been a big deal except for the fact that his wedding ring was in there. If he went home without it his wife would find a way to kill him. Damian promised to tell him where he left it only if he agreed to stay away from Paris. He was almost sorry when they all gave up, this was the most fun he’d had in years.

After that the Justice League got his father to agree to conference calls three times a week. The only good that came out of that was that Damian finally had a perfectly good reason to get an apartment and it was his father’s fault. The privacy was necessary and he and Marinette turned it into a bunker of sorts. It had food for every Kwami, just in case, was patched into the Batcave to monitor cameras around Paris, and had a supply of weapons Damian insisted were necessary even if he wasn’t allowed to fight Akumas.

She had a new cat that went by Discorde. It had to be Chloe, there was absolutely no one else Marinette trusted, but he was constantly second guessing that assumption because they didn’t act at all the same around each other when they were transformed. If it was Chloe she made sure to hide her identity with her transformation as well. Her eyes and hair were both a light shade of brown and the outfit wasn’t nearly as form fitting as the previous wielder. Add to that the combat boots and it didn’t sound like Chloe at all but he still couldn’t come up with any other possibilities. He’d interacted with her a few times as Robin and still couldn’t pin it down for certain one way or the other. He told himself it was the Miraculous magic, but wasn’t entirely certain that was true either.

Discorde didn’t know about the apartment though and when Damian asked Marinette about it she just said it wasn’t necessary for now. The less any one person knew the better so that Hawkmoth wouldn’t have multiple sources of information. He could tell she wasn’t happy about it though. Marinette was a terrible liar and he could say with certainty that Miraculous magic was definitely what had kept her identity a secret for so long. The halfhearted nonsense that spewed out of her mouth wouldn’t fool anyone, except maybe her ex classmates.

Marinette and Chloe had started at a new lycee and seemed to be enjoying each other’s company rather than branching out and making new friends. He thought it was a wise decision though he had a feeling Marinette’s reasons were different from his.

It was about two weeks after the meeting in the Watchtower that the Justice League got a taste of what was really going on in Paris. Damian was on a call with them when an Akuma struck. He didn’t expect it to be much of a problem, he’d yet to see one that was even worthy of being called a villain, but he was quickly proved wrong.

He’d taken his tablet to a roof close enough to let them see the fight but far enough away, he thought, to not be in the line of fire. This Akuma looked just as ridiculous as the other’s he’d seen and seemed to spout the same drivel. Now that Ladybug had Discorde instead of Chat he figured it would take twenty minutes top.

He couldn’t hear what the Akuma was actually saying, it was usually fairly boring anyway. Ladybug was talking to them to distract them while Discorde snuck up behind. It would be good for the Justice League to see how efficient they could be. Suddenly the Akuma flung their hand towards Ladybug who managed to leap out of the line of fire. Where she had stood was a ten foot long crater. He heard a surprised inhale from his tablet, but ignored it as the Akuma turned for Discorde. He watched in horror as Ladybug pushed them out of the way taking the full force of the hit. She was thrown into the air, straight at him but he couldn’t react fast enough.

He turned just as she slammed into the chimney behind him with a sickening crack and fell to the roof. He was too shocked to even move as she groaned and moved to get back up. She had a gash on her forehead that was dripping blood in her eye and she tried to reach up to wipe it away but her arm wasn’t moving right. She frowned at it for a moment before looking up at him.

“Robin could you help me pop my shoulder back into place?” Her tone was so matter of fact that he was moving instantly to do as she asked. When he pulled her arm to help resocket the join she winced but otherwise didn’t show any reaction. “Thanks, you might want to back off a bit. This Akuma was born of rage and they are likely to target anything that moves.” And then she was off, back towards danger.

He ended up going back to the apartment while Batman patched into the security cameras around Paris so they could watch the fight in relative safety. It took almost four hours and by the end of it Ladybug and Discorde were both covered in cuts and bruises. He wasn’t even sure how they were still standing at this point, magic suits or not. When they finally managed to break the Akumatized object, a note of some kind, he watched Ladybug and Discorde lean heavily on each other but only for a moment. It happened so fast he might have imagined it. Then Ladybug purified the Akuma and cast her cure healing everything including their injuries.

He and the League members watched as Ladybug comforted a girl, no more than ten. He’d told them that Hawkmoth had a tendency to use children but watching this, seeing a teenager fight the way Ladybug had then turn around and comfort a sobbing girl who’d almost killed her was different. It finally seemed to sink in for some of them what was really going on and why it would be such a disaster for them to be in Paris. For his part Damian couldn’t get the sight of her broken and bleeding on that rooftop out of his head. He’d seen her take hits before, but there was never any sign of it. He’d assumed her suit kept her from being injured. He thought about the calm if slightly annoyed tone she used when she asked him to help her with her shoulder. How often did something like that happen?

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Kofi

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