#there's no source link for this because Mai was the ever so sweetest who attended the ritual > filmed > and sent me this video đŸ„ș💛💜
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lifemod17 · 9 hours ago
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"to swallow my desire and choke on it"
đŸŽ„: maibeey | Instagram
(who is also on tumblr as @maibeee but have not been active in many moons)
hamburg || 11/21/2024
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takemyopenheart · 3 years ago
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Waiting (part 1 of 3)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey and f!MC (Luz BeltrĂĄn) | Category: angst | Rating: M | Warnings: implied s e x and depression | Word Count: 1.8k | Ao3 link | Part 2 | Part 3
summary: Ethan and Luz grapple with the decisions made that may alter the future of their relationship. Takes place between book 1 and 2.
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The memory of her body in such intimate proximity still lingered. The smell of her hair, her soft caresses on his chest as they lay spent, the enticing way she curled up beneath his arms.
He curses himself for dredging up such thoughts again. But he can’t be rid of them no matter how hard he tries. They invade his mind. It’s like a bittersweet curse he can’t break. His grip tightens around the nearly empty glass of scotch and wishes the cold glass was replaced by the warmth of her soft hand. He takes another swig, letting the rich smokiness coat his throat.
With a sigh, he rests his head back against the armchair, keeping his eyes wide open to keep the image of those chocolate brown eyes he’s come to know so well—and love—at bay.
Love.
He groans again. As much as he likes controlling every aspect of his life, nothing could prepare him for the unexpected impact Luz would have on his life, much less opening up his heart and inevitably falling for her and letting all the walls he’d built up crumble.
He should’ve stayed away. The thought stings because he knows he doesn’t mean it. Any ounce of regret immediately washes away when he thinks of the happy moments they’ve shared, none of which he regrets. Never did he ever expect someone to affect him the way that she did. She was there during the most turbulent times in his life when he had no one.
Dolores was relying on his expertise, and she was taken away so unfairly, leaving a child behind. A child Luz refused to leave on his own. It took Ethan a while to understand that not only was she there for baby Ethan while he fought for his life, but she was also there for Ethan while he was struggling to fight for a life.
His biggest fear was losing the only other person he cared about. Watching his mentor Naveen struggle for his life affected him deeply. But he had to be there for his friend and got right into finding whatever it was that was causing his debilitating illness. He hardly slept. He hardly allowed himself to feel. Naveen needed him. He was his only salvation, until she appeared and refused to leave their side.
Overtime, her presence became his comfort and lifeline. As much as he tried closing his heart to her, she won it in the end. Had it not been for her...he can’t even bear the thought.
The quiet stillness which surrounds him does nothing to ease his flurried mind, it merely aids in providing the perfect atmosphere in which he can still hear her voice, her laugh, every whisper of her soothing voice.
His eyes shut, and he sucks in a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs. His flight leaves in a few hours. He forces his eyes open when a thought seeps into his brain again—a cycle he’s found himself stuck in. He glances down at the coffee table where his phone lays, and two words echoe in an endless haunting loop—call her.
He knows he owes her that much, but his stubborn nature prevents him from reaching for it. His arms feel heavy, as if the weight of the turmoil he finds himself in weighs them down, preventing him from dialing the phone number he’s memorized from the moment he first dialed it. Her voice is just a phone call away, and his throat closes at the thought.
The last they spoke had been Friday, but the professional distance was there, due to the fact that he was back to being her attending. And soon, she would take her place on the diagnostics team, with Ethan being her direct supervisor. He stopped receiving her texts, unless they had to do with work. It seemed she, too, was doing everything in her power to move on. Though he knew it was the right thing, he couldn’t fill that piece that was back to being the missing part of his life.
There’s a sudden ping. Ethan’s head whips to the source of the sound and finally picks up his phone. Everything’s forgotten in that instant, and he hopes to see her name displayed on the screen. He adjusts his eyes to the brightness, only to read a notification that his ride has arrived.
He feels the urge to toss it against the wall, to let the frustration seeping into him out. He sighs deeply, and before he knows it, the glass in his hand is chucked across the room where it smashes into small fragments on the living room floor and around the packed luggage sitting beside the front door.
This is what must be done, for her own sake. He can’t hinder her professional development with whatever it is they have—had, as much as it pains him to take that step. Her career must come before anything.
The forbidden fruit is always the sweetest.
And he must go before he’s tempted again. He has to.
Two weeks later
His stubbled jaw scratches its way down her neck, lavishing her skin with open-mouthed kisses. She feels his rough hand make its way down her exposed skin, tickling her in the best way possible. He laughs softly in her ear when she begins guiding his hand toward the part that begs for his touch. It’s a laugh so deep and alluring, she wishes that sound to stretch on and on and on...
Her eyes flutter open as she jolts awake in her bed. Her heart thumps a quick rhythm as she looks at the empty cold space beside her, the only body warmth her own. She’s pulled out of the reverie, letting her heart feel that familiar ache its grown used to.
She checks the time on her phone—6:16 am. At least she got four hours of sleep this time, she thinks to herself. She can’t miss the next step of what’s become her daily morning routine. She looks at the screen for any sign of him, any message to let her know he’s okay and that he’s thinking of her. But the pang of hurt hits her again as she stares at the empty screen.
Of course he isn’t thinking of her. He’s moved on. She forces her feet to keep her going and prepare for another full day of distractions—anything to overpower the lingering sound and smell of him.
She keeps her curtains closed, she doesn’t feel like letting the sunshine in.
Her feet sluggishly carry her toward the kitchen to make herself a cup of black coffee. She isn’t surprised to find Elijah and Sienna already in the kitchen. They’ve been her support system these past few weeks. They’re still the only ones who know the truth about her and Ethan. It’s an alleviating sight to wake up from dreams about him and find them there to offer her company.
A lone empty mug sits on the countertop, and when they look over to see her approaching, Sienna fills it with the steamy caffeinated beverage. She throws them a smile and takes her seat on the kitchen stool as they prepare their breakfast.
"Have some pancakes, Luz. Or some eggs and toast," Elijah encourages her with a warm smile on his face, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stares back at her desolate-filled expression.
"I’m okay. Thanks for the coffee, though," she simply says and takes the mug in her hands to take a sip. It burns her tongue, and she flinches.
"Careful, Luz, it’s still hot," Sienna warns her too late.
"I’m all right, don’t worry."
Sienna and Elijah share a concerned look. They can’t help but worry. The brightness and vivaciousness has dimmed in their best friend since he left. It was an entire week before they learned he left for the Amazon with the W.H.O. It was like Ethan to join in on fighting an epidemic, and she didn’t fault him for that. It was an incredibly brave thing to do.
She’d followed his wishes for them to resume their professional working relationship. No longer did he look at her the way he used to. Steadily, he began to revert back to being the closed-off man she first met. It pained her, but she had to respect this is what he wanted. But deep in her heart, she knew he still cared for her, which is why it hurt her that he’d decided to leave her wondering where he was. She left a message after the first few days she hadn’t heard from him, only for it to be left unanswered.
No one had any idea where he was until Naveen shared the news. By then it was too late to try to reach him, and she couldn’t help but think that was why he delayed in sharing his whereabouts. His phone was no longer in service. She had no way of hearing his voice.
Some part of her knew he was running away from her—from everything they left behind, and she felt selfish every time that thought crossed her mind. It was no longer about her. And that was a clear enough message.
She sips the last of the coffee and steps off the kitchen stool. "I’m going to go for a walk."
"Want some company?" Sienna asks with hope in her eyes.
Luz knows she can’t go on like this. She shouldn’t let her life revolve around one emotionally unavailable man, but she can’t help what her heart still feels for him. She’s going to have to accept the fact that she can’t have everything she wants. She’ll live with the memories they shared. And she hopes that’ll be enough.
Her breath hitches as she remembers the last kiss they shared. She shakes her head to be rid of the flashing thought and looks up to meet Sienna’s eyes. "You know what? Sure. I could use friends right now. But first, let’s eat breakfast."
She and Elijah brighten up at the response. "Good. Because boy, are we going to get up to some fun today! It’s a promise." Elijah grins and places a plate in front of her. His face becomes serious, and he gently pats Luz’s arm. "We’re here for you."
Luz musters a smile. "I know. Thanks, guys. It means a lot. I don’t know what I’d do without you."
"But don’t keep it all inside," Sienna interrupts. "When you’re ready to talk about it, we’re open ears."
"Yeah. What Sienna said."
Luz feels tears brimming in her eyes because for the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel totally alone. She won’t be as long as her friends are there. There’s always light at the end of the tunnel. It just may take some time to reach it. And that’s okay.
‱
Note: For an added dose of angst, listen to Waiting by Alice Boman. Major Ethan leaving for the Amazon vibes.
‱
@openheartfanfics
I haven’t been tagging anyone in these since they’re from my old blog, but if you still wish to be tagged in my reposts, let me know😊
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twelvesignsrp · 8 years ago
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congratulations q, aquarius is now nolitha “nola” foxcroft with the faceclaim amandla stenberg
APPLICATION
Character Sign: Aquarius
Character Name: Nolitha “Nola” Foxcroft
NOLITHA: “beam of light” | A name of Xhosa origin, the meaning behind their name is clearly different from those of their twin older brothers: Ezekiel meaning “God will strengthen” and Omari meaning “God the highest.” Nola presumed this shift in naming scheme was by divine intervention. Zeke and Omari were more straightforward than Nola; their brothers’ dreams were tangible, their feet ever-pinned to the ground. Stable, solid, zealous but strategic. God was their compass and their futures were mapped. Meanwhile, Nola was a mistral wind, strong but cold, quick but aimless. A spark led by no one and headed nowhere; an uncontrollable beam of light
↳  Note: I chose a Xhosa name because Amandla’s name has Xhosa and Zulu roots. Although I could not find any sources ethnically linking Amandla to South Africa, I find it reasonable that a black mother would choose an African name with a meaning like Amandla’s or Nolitha’s for the significance of it. Furthermore, I went against choosing Xhosa or Zulu names for Nola’s brothers to mitigate any insinuation that their family is of South African descent.
FOXCROFT: “residing beside an enclosure or croft” | This Anglo-Saxon surname is a topographic/habitation name. The reclusive implication of this name is representative of Nola’s reserved (and even enigmatic) nature. Moreover, the connection to a fox is fitting because of their cleverness and independence.
Birthday: 10/02/1997 (x)
Sexuality: Demiromantic Asexual
Gender: Non-binary (they/them)
Moon Sign: Gemini (x)
Faceclaim: Amandla Stenberg
Power: Illusion Projection
↳  Capabilities: “User can create illusions, causing targets to see, hear, touch, smell and/or taste things which do not actually exist or cause them to perceive things differently from what they truly are.”
↳  Use: Believing can be seeing. Nola’s power is about as erratic and enigmatic as they are. They’re highly imaginative and many illusions are created unwittingly from their tangled strings of thought. Until recently, they’d chalked up the strange occurrences and friends’ fabrications to luck and circumstance (maybe even lack of sleep). They’re still getting the hang of consciously creating illusions, but even then, they’re typically smaller things like the scent of expensive perfume or the sight of clear complexion even when they’re at their most stressed. I can envision Nola using this to win people over or have a bit of fun as they already have been.
What do they study? Law. It’s tough enough to challenge them intellectually, while still offering them an ambiguous future career path. (They like to keep their options open.)
Biography:
Nolitha Foxcroft was sunlight through a storm cloud, some sort of miracle so untouchable they could slip through your fingers as subtly as the seasons change. That is to say, their summer heat arrived long before most winters even began to melt into dewy spring. Perhaps that’s precisely why their mother named them Nolitha. A beam of light. A child who’d treat Eden like a playground, but belong there just the same. It was a shame they weren’t born in Eden—or anywhere close to it. Manchester wasn’t so picturesque with empty pockets. Their family knew this well enough for long enough. They were somewhere between lower and lower-middle class, content but never quite comfortable.
Nonetheless, the Foxcrofts were torchbearers of heart as much as they were exemplars of resilience. Dad was a math teacher for at-risk kids, while Mum was a proud community organizer. They found their wealth in giving to others, true humanitarians that made do with what they had. For every flood of job cuts, every frigid winter, every new body the streets sputtered out, Nola’s family was the first to stand up. Rallies, protests, marches, and fundraisers—the Foxcrofts were ever-present and loud with purpose. They were a staple in their community, which may be why they weren’t so determined to up and leave. Here, there was a rhythm they knew they could follow. Here, in tattered Manchester, they would always have a name and a purpose.
Beam of light that they were, that their family was, Nola was never destined to become just another warning tale of inner city youth. A slanted mirror image of their family’s steady strength and spirit, Nola better mimicked the anatomy of a revolution: the spark, flicker, blaze, an untamable wildfire child who lit up their luckless streets with the the kind of breezy, blooming magic no dealer could press or package. They were notoriously too smart or too unsound; too quirky or too reserved; too bubbly or too temperamental. A walking paradox with a glittering smile, they were never too concerned about the opinions of others that it mattered. Nola was perpetually misunderstood, yet somehow universally loved.
The last born after twin older brothers, Ezekiel and Omari, Nola was the prototype of happy-go-lucky, giggles-and-glee youngest children. They were lightning foreshadowing thunder, while their brothers were the roaring thunderclaps reverberating beneath your feet. The twins were grounded and concrete. Nola existed between millisecond-long blinks. Though Nola was the brightest of the three, Zeke and Omari were the ones with drive. Predictably, they set aside university to follow in Mum’s footsteps as activists. Nola had almost done the same. Almost—until they earned a hefty scholarship to Durham University. The opportunity to attend university, and to be able to afford it, no doubt, was one that they couldn’t justifiably pass up.
Five interesting facts about your character:
TW FACT #3 (BUBBLEGUM) FOR MENTIONS OF ANXIETY, MEDICATION, AND SELF-HARM
MIRROR, MIRROR | They take after their mum’s side of the family in their outrageous dedication to superstition. As a child, Nola loved tagging along whenever their mum sought out spirits in her spare time. Dowsing rods, thermometers, candles, magnets and the like were always ready to be put to use, lumped into a tattered cardboard box at the bottom of the kitchen cabinet. The belief in senseless traditions and good luck charms have followed Nola into adulthood. They still make the effort to catch falling leaves in autumn and keep an eye on the salt shaker at the dinner table. Although they don’t have as much faith in it all as they did in their younger years, it certainly makes life more fun.
LITTLE THINGS | Nola loves the feeling of starting something new, and perhaps this is why one of their favorite hobbies is collecting. Not anything in particular; simply, collecting as an activity in itself. They’re quite fleeting about it, non-committal and prone to giving up soon after they’ve begun. It would take more than two hands to count how many half-hearted collections have come and gone, hurtled through Nola’s room like a midnight train bound nowhere. The only collections that have survived Nola’s volatility, and of which they are most proud of, are their weathered jazz and blues vinyls (via thrift shops and flea markets) and sociopolitical buttons (largely via activist older brothers).
BUBBLEGUM | Nola has had generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) since they were a child. Before they were the glittering human embodiment of a shooting star, they were Saturn entrapped by rings of chaos, circling, circling, circling without end. They’ve always been more restless than truly active, but after years of rattling pill bottles and steady coping lessons, the fidgeting is a lot subtler now. Pacing and scratching have become bad habits of the past; these days, Nola’s almost always chewing gum to keep their tensions low. Unless someone is especially perceptive, Nola’s high-functioning anxiety has nearly everyone fooled. Even as a tiny ball of worry, baby Nola was still as seemingly happy-go-lucky as they are today. Bright, bouncy, and bubbly; the perfect extrovert.
IDLE GENIUS | Despite their natural gift of intelligence, Nola has no want for power or money; all they want is heedless autonomy and sheer knowledge and social change. They follow a path laid by optimism and Lady Luck. They are that kid: the one who constantly skips class but still aces every assignment; the one that can speed-write a stellar research paper the night it’s due; the one carefree and confident enough to go out and get hammered the night before the final exam. Nola is a pixie-dusted honeybee, blessed and blithe, and their entire world is neatly lined with freshly-blossomed flowers. All that glitters skims their unburdened fingertips like high tide kissing the coastline; theirs, if only they’d reach out to claim it.
AVANT-GARDE | Imagination and creativity are central components to their personality. Penniless parents led Nola to music and art as their main sources of entertainment. Double-dutch songs on the sidewalks as a child, performing in the metro stations for tips, belting gospel hymns at church, and melting into the jazzy swing of crackling vinyl after school. As a kid, Nola’s older brothers didn’t have to do much convincing to get them to switch from crayons on scrap paper to joining their amateur graffiti brigade. Weekend nights turned into graffiti activism and sneakers pounding across cracked pavement. The Foxcrofts’ murals and protest statements decorated Manchester’s worn trains and warehouses and walls. Nola got quite good at it, and still sketches designs in their notebooks from time to time.
Character Quote: “I’ll slip into heaven through a crack in the wall.”
↳  Theme song at the moment is definitely DNA. by Kendrick: “I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA / I got hustle though, ambition, flow, inside my DNA / I was born like this, since one like this / Immaculate conception.”
If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why?
HUMMINGBIRD: “the sweetest nectar is within” | In nature, hummingbirds are swift and vivacious, always darting from place to place. Hummingbirds represent serendipity, nature’s reminder to seek out the good in life and the grandeur in each day. Despite their small size, they possess a lot of potential and power. Their independence and persistence thrives in the beauty of the present moment. Similarly, Nola seeks to do everything and to do it on a grand scale. When they come up with an idea, they feel compelled to follow it, unconcerned with whether or not it is reasonable. They are constantly thinking, constantly doing, and are fueled by their idealism and self-confidence. Sometimes this can get Nola into trouble because they often leap before they look; however, pure luck is usually on their side.
↳  Symbolizes energy, vitality, adaptability, joy, flexibility, renewal, healing, peace, infinity, agility, and playfulness.
WRITING SAMPLE
“Bullshit! You fuckin’ cheated!” Nola cried out through a fit of dulcet giggles. A million dollar grin was stretched across their face. Their chest felt heavy from laughing too hard. “Best out of three,” they countered. Mischief danced through the cool air. They readjusted their beanie to better blanket their ears, chilled fingers wrapped tight around their can of spray paint. Despite the blustering nighttime wind, Nola was still starving for a taste of victory. But, then again, when were they not?
“All cards on the table this time. Let’s go, hotshot,” they playfully taunted.
Nola’s eldest brother, Ezekiel, leaned against the graffitied wall of the long-abandoned corner store. His breathing was staggered through baritone laughter as his lungs raced to catch up with him. The destitute building was their traditional checkpoint, the final flag at the end of their speed-graffiti competitions. It was a pawn shop at one point in time, before Nola was even old enough to grasp that the world was larger than their family’s two-bedroom flat. Like most local shops in their shadowed part of Manchester, transience was a default setting; nothing lasted and nobody stayed if the choice was offered.
Ezekiel cocked an eyebrow. “Mum didn’t raise you a sore loser, did she?” he teased. Broad shoulders shrugged back, his smirk begging for a challenge as per usual. Though Nola reckoned they picked up many of their self-assured mannerisms from their brothers, where they matched in demeanor, they differed in personality. It went without asking that Nola was the youngest of the three. The baby. The twins channeled their energy into the things that mattered most to them; Nola’s fervor was blind, aimless, and unhindered. They all thrived on victory, but Nola was significantly less concerned with prizes or titles. Winning was their lifestyle.
Nola made a face at Ezekiel’s comment. The can rattled in their left hand as they shook it in preparation for the next round. “Find it hard to believe Mum taught you to be a dirty cheat,” they fired back. Banter was instinctual between the siblings. They wouldn’t want it any other way.
Ezekiel chuckled and began to peel himself off of the shop’s exterior. “Ready, set?” he proposed, body poised to run.
Already bounding into the dark, Nola shouted over their shoulder, “And they’re off!”
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