#this happened ages ago (this is a very old draft) and i am actually married to hayley

[organised-disaster]

I GUCKING DID IT

SHE LOVES ME

I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY MADE HAYLEY MY GIRLFRIEND IN STARDEW VALLEY

and now onto the marriage. and the children.

[fruitcoops]

Would love to see a wired autocomplete interview with coops! 🥰

Anon, did you read my mind? These two have such chaotic energy when they’re given an outlet and it was a true pleasure to write it. Dorcas is exhausted. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Wait, I want to pull the tab,” Remus said, tugging on the edge of the cardboard lightly as Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach without falling off his chair.

“I get to read it out loud for you and then we switch!” Sirius protested, smacking him gently on the head with it. The resulting bonk noise made them both break down laughing.

“You guys know we’re rolling, right?” Dorcas asked as she gathered a stack of cards in her lap, looking highly amused.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the camera with a bright smile. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, hockey fans! I’m Dorcas Meadowes and I’m here today with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to answer some of the internet’s most pressing questions. How are you two feeling?”

“Terrified,” Sirius said.

“The internet is like the Twilight Zone,” Remus agreed. “Who goes first?”

“Sirius, you’ve got a card already. Take it away.”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the first pull tab, ripping it off slowly. “That is so satisfying, woah. How tall is Remus Lupin?”

“I am five foot eleven and a half.”

“That half inch comes from your sneakers and you know it.”

“It does not!”

Sirius just smiled and removed the next paper slip. “What language does Remus Lupin speak?”

“I speak English and a little bit of French. Tried to learn Spanish in high school, but failed miserably.”

“I love the wording on this one,” Sirius said as he turned the board toward the camera. “Remus Lupin Green Bay Packers.”

“Dammit, now everyone knows my full name,” Remus sighed. “Uh, the Packers are cool.”

“I think people were wondering if you ever played on the team,” Dorcas said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a football player to you?”

“Next question!” Sirius ripped the tab off and took a good section of the paper above with it. There was a beat of stunned silence. “I am…so sorry.”

Behind the camera, Marlene burst out laughing, along with most of the camera crew. “It’s fine, keep reading.”

“Okay, um…” Sirius squinted at the partially torn-off question. “Remus Lupin name meaning.”

Remus groaned. “I hate this question. Yes, it does mean Wolf Wolf. Yes, my dad’s name also means Wolf Wolf. Yes, my mother’s maiden name is Howell. I’m aware of the endless puns.”

“Don’t you mean a-were?” Sirius asked as a slow grin spread across his face. Remus grabbed the card and bonked him over the head with it.

“Remus, your turn.” Dorcas handed him a poster board and took the blank one.

“I’m going to be careful with this one, unlike somebody,” he teased, kissing Sirius on the cheek. “Is Sirius Black…related to Pascal Dumais?”

“In all the ways that matter, yes.”

Remus grinned when he read the next one. “Is Sirius Black missing a tooth?”

“No!” Sirius gave the camera an offended look. “I have all my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Is Sirius Black mean?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Reporters don’t like you very much.”

“The feeling is mutual. I love the fans though, most of them are so sweet.”

“Oh, I like this one. Is Sirius Black married?” Remus rested his chin on the top of the card and batted his eyelashes, making Sirius laugh.

“Almost! Ask me again in July.” Remus set the card on the floor and Dorcas passed Sirius a new one. “Does Remus Lupin wear glasses?”

“Nope.”

“Does Remus Lupin—I have never said your name so many times in one sitting, my god—does Remus Lupin have siblings?”

“Yup.”

“Does Remus Lupin—”

“Can you elaborate?” Dorcas asked with a laugh. “How many siblings? Names? Ages?”

Remus turned to the camera. “I have one brother named Julian and he’s ten years old. He likes piggyback rides, ice cream, and hockey.”

“Much better. Take it away, Cap.”

“Does Remus Lupin have allergies?”

Remus frowned in confusion. “Why do people want to know that? Uh, yeah, I’m allergic to some pollens. Spring is hell.”

“How many of these do we have?” Sirius asked as he tossed the board over his shoulder and crossed his legs.

“Quite a few! Loops, you’re up.”

“Where is Sirius Black from?”

“Canada.”

“Where does Sirius Black live?”

“The Lions ice rink. I set up a tent in the middle of the goal posts every night so that I’m never late to practice.”

“Sirius Black gay.”

Sirius paused. “I think we’re missing a couple words in there.”

“That’s literally all it says,” Remus laughed, moving it to show him. “Sirius Black gay. I don’t know, honey, Sirius Black gay?”

“Sirius Black very gay,” he confirmed. “Sirius Black thinks people need to have better grammar.”

“Is Sirius Black’s hair naturally curly?”

“No, I use a curling iron every morning to do each individual curl,” he said. “It takes me seven hours and thirteen minutes, and I use a full can of hairspray.”

Remus scooted over so Dorcas could hand him a new card. “He keeps a stopwatch and tries to beat his personal record every time.”

Sirius pulled the first tab away and immediately started laughing too hard to speak.

“What does it say? You can’t just leave me hanging!” Sirius turned the board around and Remus leaned down to read it. “Is Remus Lupin hockey? Yes. I am the entire sport of hockey condensed into one being. I’m coming for basketball next. Thanks for asking!”

It took a few seconds for Sirius to get his breath back. “What is Remus Lupin—”

“I thought we just answered that.”

“—what is Remus Lupin zodiac sign?”

Remus paused. “Is that the thing Pots was talking about the other day? With the quiz?”

“That was love languages.”

“Your zodiac sign depends on your birthday,” Marlene called. “When were you born?”

“March 10th.”

“You’re a Pisces.”

“I’m a Pisces!” he said brightly to the camera. “No idea what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“It means you’re two fish.” She laughed as Remus sucked his cheeks in for a fish face. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius was especially careful as he pulled the paper slip off the next question. “What is Remus Lupin first job?”

“The grammar of these questions is killing me. Um, I worked in the university bookstore during college.”

“On the list of ‘things that don’t surprise anyone’,” Dorcas joked.

“Did Remus Lupin go to college?”

Remus gave the camera a look. “First of all, I have a medical degree. Second of all, did people completely forget about the whole ‘about to be drafted right out of college’ thing? It was a grand total of four years ago! Google it!”

“That’s what they did,” Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the board.

“True.”

���Last one for this card: how old is Remus Lupin?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Y’know, I kind of lost track after the first few centuries. My turn…what is Sirius Black real name?”

Sirius glanced at the camera. “It’s Sirius Black? Is this a trick question?”

“There are people out there who think that’s a fake name,” Dorcas said.

“Um, okay. Yeah, my real name is Sirius Black, my brother is Regulus, my dad is Orion, and I have cousins named Andromeda and Bellatrix.”

“What’s your uncle’s name again?” Remus asked.

“Which one? Cygnus? Phineas Nigellus? Arcturus?” At Dorcas’ surprised look, he laughed. “Oh, I could go all day long with this. That’s the tea on old French families with weird-ass naming traditions.”

“This next one is similar: Sirius Black middle name?”

“Orion.”

“Fun fact: the first time I saw your full name, Moody had written it and I thought it said ‘onion’.” Remus laughed as Sirius’ jaw fell open. “Those three seconds were a highlight of my life. Alright, what’s next…what color are Sirius Black’s eyes?”

“Blue.”

Remus shook his head. “They’re gray, almost silver.”

“Basically blue.”

“There’s nothing basic about you, babe.” Remus slid the board onto the floor and passed Sirius a new one. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Is Remus Lupin Canadian?”

“I wish.”

“Is Remus Lupin left-handed?”

“No, but a lot of people seem to think that I am.”

“Is—” Sirius cut off with a snort. “Is Remus Lupin scrappy?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Remus asked, leaning over. “Is that actually what it says?”

“Yep.”

“Scrappy? Really?” He shook his head, lost for words. “I mean, I guess. Nobody’s ever called me scrappy before.”

“I don’t like this last one. How much is Remus Lupin worth?” Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You’re priceless.”

“I’m worth at least half a PB & J, but only if you use the good peanut butter. If you use the shitty Skippy stuff, hand over the whole sandwich. My turn! Does Sirius Black have piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Does Sirius Black have an Instagram?”

“I do. Sblack12, if you want to see pictures of my friends’ kids and this cutie.”

“Is Sirius Black Australian?”

“Fuck off. I’m French Canadian, how the hell did anyone think I was Australian?”

“Sirius Black birthday.”

“I have one.”

“What is it?” Marlene asked. “I’ll tell you your zodiac sign.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “November 3rd.”

“Scorpio bitch.”

“Hey!”

“On the bright side, Scorpios and Pisces are super compatible.”

“What a relief, I was really banking on our astrology compatibility,” Remus said drily.

Dorcas handed Sirius a fresh board. “First up: can Remus Lupin sing?”

“Eh.”

“The correct answer is yes. What is Remus Lupin like in real life?”

“I’m horrible. I kick every puppy I see and carry one of those sticky hands from arcades to steal candy from children.” A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth and Sirius’ cheeks turned pink from suppressing his laughter. “Like Spiderman, but evil.”

“What happened to Remus Lupin after college?”

“What didn’t happen to Remus Lupin after college?” he laughed, leaning back in his seat. “These past couple years have been bonkers fucking yonkers. I became a PT, got a secret boyfriend, and now I’m engaged and an NHL player. There were, like, three seasons of character development squished into eighteen months.”

“Alright, last one. Why Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black?”

“Because he’s hot and nice. Also, because he’s my fiancé.”

“Is that the criteria for kisses?” Sirius asked. “I just have to be hot and nice?”

“Pretty much. You’ve got both boxes permanently checked.”

“Final card,” Dorcas warned as she handed it to him. “Make it count.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How does Sirius Black work out?”

“I rollerskate and hula hoop for six hours a day simultaneously.”

“How old is Sirius Black?”

“Ageless.”

“How did Sirius Black meet Remus Lupin?”

“Fun story, actually. You know the movie Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Are Sirius Black and James Potter—”

“Dating.”

“—still friends.”

“Damn, I thought I had that one.” He did a double take. “Still friends? What happened? I saw him an hour ago, tops.”

“You might have to google it,” Remus suggested as he slid the board across the floor. “That’s it!”

“Way to go, guys,” Dorcas laughed. “I know literally nothing new about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said as the two high-fived. “We were completely honest the whole time.”

She faced the camera with a poorly-hidden smile. “Thanks for joining us today, Lions, and remember to like and subscribe for more content!”

[invisibleicewands]

Staged's Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant: 'Scenes with all four of us usually involved alcohol'

Not many primetime TV hits are filmed by the show’s stars inside their own homes. However, 2020 wasn’t your average year. During the pandemic, productions were shut down and workarounds had to be found – otherwise the terrestrial schedules would have begun to look worryingly empty. Staged was the surprise comedy hit of the summer.

This playfully meta short-form sitcom, airing in snack-sized 15-minute episodes, found A-list actors Michael Sheen and David Tennant playing an exaggerated version of themselves, bickering and bantering as they tried to perfect a performance of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author over Zoom.

Having bonded while co-starring in Good Omens, Amazon’s TV adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s novel, Sheen, 51, and Tennant, 49, became best buddies in real life. In Staged, though, they’re comedically reframed as frenemies – warm, matey and collaborative, but with a cut-throat competitiveness lurking just below the surface. As they grew ever more hirsute and slobbish in lockdown, their virtual relationship became increasingly fraught.

It was soapily addictive and hilariously thespy, while giving a voyeuristic glimpse of their interior decor and domestic lives – with all the action viewed through their webcams.

Yet it was the supporting cast who lifted Staged to greatness,Their director Simon Evans, forced to dance around the pair’s fragile egos and piggy-in-the-middle of their feuds. Steely producer Jo, played by Nina Sosanya, forever breaking off from calls to bellow at her poor, put-upon PA. And especially the leading men’s long-suffering partners, both actors in real life, Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.

Georgia Tennant comes from showbiz stock, as the child of Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson. At 36 she is an experienced actor and producer, who made her TV debut in Peak Practice aged 15. She met David on Doctor Who 2008, when she played the Timelord’s cloned daughter Jenny. Meanwhile, the Swedish Lundberg, 26, is at the start of her career. She left drama school in New York two years ago and Staged is her first big on-screen role.

Married for nine years, the Tennants have five children and live in west London. The Lundberg-Sheens have been together two years, have a baby daughter, Lyra, and live outside Port Talbot in south Wales. On screen and in real life, the women have become firm friends and frequent scene-stealers.

Staged proved so successful that it’s now back for a second series. We set up a video call with Tennant and Lundberg to discuss lockdown life, wine consumption, home schooling (those two may be related) and the blurry line between fact and fiction…

Was doing Staged a big decision, because it’s so personal and set in your homes? Georgia Tennant: We’d always been a very private couple. Staged was everything we’d never normally say yes to. Suddenly, our entire house is on TV and so is a version of the relationship we’d always kept private. But that’s the way to do it, I guess. Go to the other extreme. Just rip off the Band-Aid.

Anna Lundberg: Michael decided pretty quickly that we weren’t going to move around the house at all. All you see is the fireplace in our kitchen.

GT: We have five children, so it was just about which room was available.

AL: But it’s not the real us. It’s not a documentary.

GT: Although some people think it is.

Which fictional parts of the show do people mistake for reality? GT: People think I’m really a novelist because “Georgia” writes a novel in Staged. They’ve asked where they can buy my book. I should probably just write one now because I’ve done the marketing already.

AL: People worry about our elderly neighbour, who gets hospitalised in the show. She doesn’t actually exist in real life but people have approached Michael in Tesco’s, asking if she’s OK.

Michael and David squabble about who’s billed first in Staged. Does that reflect real life? AL: With Good Omens, Michael’s name was first for the US market and David’s was first for the British market. So those scenes riffed on that.

Should we call you Georgia and Anna, or Anna and Georgia? GT: Either. We’re super-laidback about these things.

AL: Unlike certain people.

How well did you know each other before Staged? GT: We barely knew each other. We’ve now forged a friendship by working on the show together.

AL: We’d met once, for about 20 minutes. We were both pregnant at the time �� we had babies a month apart – so that was pretty much all we talked about.

Did you tidy up before filming? AL: We just had to keep one corner relatively tidy.

GT: I’m quite a tidy person, but I didn’t want to be one of those annoying Instagram people with perfect lives. So strangely, I had to add a bit of mess… dot a few toys around in the background. I didn’t want to be one of those insufferable people – even though, inherently, I am one of those people.

Was there much photobombing by children or pets? AL: In the first series, Lyra was still at an age where we could put her in a baby bouncer. Now that’s not working at all. She’s just everywhere. Me and Michael don’t have many scenes together in series two, because one of us is usually Lyra-wrangling.

GT: Our children aren’t remotely interested. They’re so unimpressed by us. There’s one scene where Doris, our five-year-old, comes in to fetch her iPad. She doesn’t even bother to glance at what we’re doing.

How was lockdown for you both? AL: I feel bad saying it, but it was actually good for us. We were lucky enough to be in a big house with a garden. For the first time since we met, we were in one place. We could just focus on Lyra . To see her grow over six months was incredible. She helped us keep a steady routine, too.

GT: Ours was similar. We never spend huge chunks of time together, so it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. At least until David’s career goes to shit and he’s just sat at home. The flipside was the bleakness. Being in London, there were harrowing days when everything was silent but you’d just hear sirens going past, as a reminder that something awful was going on. So I veered between “This is wonderful” and “This is the worst thing that ever happened.”

And then there was home schooling… GT: Which was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened.

You’ve spent a lot of time on video calls, clearly. What are your top Zooming tips? GT: Raise your camera to eye level by balancing your laptop on a stack of books. And invest in a ring light.

AL: That’s why you look so much better. We just have our sad kitchen light overhead, which makes us look like one massive shiny forehead.

GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael.

There’s a running gag in series one about the copious empties in Michael’s recycling. Did you lean into lockdown boozing in real life? AL: Not really. We eased off when I was pregnant and after Lyra was born. We’d just have a glass of wine with dinner.

GT: Yes, definitely. I often reach for a glass of red in the show, which was basically just an excuse to continue drinking while we were filming: “I think my character would have wine and cake in this scene.” The time we started drinking would creep slightly earlier. “We’ve finished home schooling, it’s only 4pm, but hey…” We’ve scaled it back to just weekends now.

How did you go about creating your characters with the writer Simon Evans? AL: He based the dynamic between David and Michael on a podcast they did together. Our characters evolved as we went along.

GT: I was really kind and understanding in the first draft. I was like “I don’t want to play this, it’s no fun.” From the first few tweaks I made, Simon caught onto the vibe, took that and ran with it.

Did you struggle to keep a straight face at times? AL: Yes, especially the scenes with all four of us, when David and Michael start improvising.

GT: I was just drunk, so I have no recollection.

AL: Scenes with all four of us were normally filmed in the evening, because that’s when we could be child-free. Usually there was alcohol involved, which is a lot more fun.

GT: There’s a long scene in series two where we’re having a drink. During each take, we had to finish the glass. By the end, we were all properly gone. I was rewatching it yesterday and I was so pissed.

What else can you tell us about series two? GT: Everyone’s in limbo. Just as we think things are getting back to normal, we have to take three steps back again. Everyone’s dealing with that differently, shall we say.

AL: In series one, we were all in the same situation. By series two, we’re at different stages and in different emotional places.

GT: Hollywood comes calling, but things are never as simple as they seem.

There were some surprise big-name cameos in series one, with Samuel L Jackson and Dame Judi Dench suddenly Zooming in. Who can we expect this time around? AL: We can’t name names, but they’re very exciting.

GT: Because series one did so well, and there’s such goodwill towards the show, we’ve managed to get some extraordinary people involved. This show came from playing around just to pass the time in lockdown. It felt like a GCSE end-of-term project. So suddenly, when someone says: “Samuel L Jackson’s in”, it’s like: “What the fuck’s just happened?”

AL: It took things to the next level, which was a bit scary.

GT: It suddenly felt like: “Some people might actually watch this.”

How are David and Michael’s hair and beard situations this time? AL: We were in a toyshop the other day and Lyra walked up to these Harry Potter figurines, pointed at Hagrid and said: “Daddy!” So that explains where we’re at. After eight months of lockdown, it was quite full-on.

GT: David had a bob at one point. Turns out he’s got annoyingly excellent hair. Quite jealous. He’s also grown a slightly unpleasant moustache.

Is David still wearing his stinky hoodie? GT: I bought him that as a gift. It’s actually Paul Smith loungewear. In lockdown, he was living in it. It’s pretty classy, but he does manage to make it look quite shit.

[tcthetouch]

𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓃𝑔, 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓇𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒶𝒻𝓇𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝑒. 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒.

『 jamie lee curtis. sixty-one. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that JUDITH MILLER from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -CYNICAL & -SELFISH. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool “RETIRED” ACTRESS  and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +MAGNETIC & +WITTY. i hope i see them around again! 『 may. 21. est. she/her. 』

hello my pals ! after a very long day, i am finally here with an intro for a sexy lowkey demon !

BACKGROUND:

triggers: emotional abuse, brief mention of war, brief mention of considered abortion, substance abuse, brief implication of child neglect, brief mentions of death (but like.... from old age)

So… I’m currently too tired to do the ‘whole chart,’ but… a Sagittarius. Know this.

Now, to understand our dear Judith, you must first understand her parents. Her mother was a wealthy young woman, progressive in her views on social issues… for the time. Nonetheless, she was expected to hold up the standards of the time. Her father was the younger brother of a man deemed ‘a great soldier’ who died fighting in WWII. Followed by the memory of him and his own parents’ obsession with the man, he placed pressure on himself to live up to that standard. Shame there was no war………………….

They met at Judith’s mother’s debutante ball and hit it off. It was, what they perceived to be, a match made in heaven. But that’s always easy to say – it’s harder to prove when a good night culminates in an unexpected pregnancy. To avoid any public scandal on her part, Judith’s mother and father married before she began showing and moved to Mapleview where she would become an excellent mother and he would live up to his brother’s standards by… he was still figuring it out… maybe making the next great scientific advancement? or writing the next great American novel?

Sadly, in spite of her lifetime’s worth of training, Judith’s mother… proved to lack natural maternal instinct. Perhaps it was passed down from her own mother, transgenerational trauma beginning long, long, long ago. Judith’s father was so consumed with his grand ideas that he hadn’t the time to help! Between becoming the next Walt Whitman one day and the next Albert Einstein the next, all while working for his father-in-law, he just didn’t have any time at all!

Their marriage grew strained and, as Judith grew, they made it even clearer that she was the cause. If she, herself, didn’t do something spectacular with her life, then it was all for nothing!

Her father wasn’t forced into the Vietnam War as a part of the drafting lottery. No, as it grew bigger, as the army grew more desperate, as she began slowly maturing, as his marriage continued falling apart, he voluntarily entered in 1965, when Judith was seven. Before drafting even began!

Before he entered the war, Judith was the victim of plenty of degrading remarks and the occasional Unusually Odd Punishment (think bojack horseman w like beatrice seeing ~7y/o bojack take a cigarette and forcing him to smoke all of it bc he couldn’t waste a perfectly good cigarette!). However, the remarks grew more biting after he left for “the war effort.” The two moved back to California, her mother’s birthplace, to be closer to her mother’s father – an even better source of income when his sympathies were being played on.

...but it was suddenly back-to-work, no-sympathies-for-you when the war ended and Judith’s father was still alive… and, furthermore, when the war was lost. 

With her parents’ marriage worse off than ever, Judith’s unconscious attempts to please them and live up to their expectations began sooner than they would have had the war been won. Or had her father been shot. 

Probably.

Commercials began at seventeen, but they weren’t impressive. Minor roles began at eighteen, but they weren’t impressive. It wasn’t until she was picked up by an actual agent at twenty that she began actually shining, so to speak. 

Which is actually a great accidental pun on my part, as her first big role was, much like JLC’s, in one of the first slasher movies ever made. Hoorah! But it still wasn’t impressive. It wasn’t big or prestigious, Katharine Hepburn wouldn’t have taken the role. 

But what was even less impressive? 

The pregnancy that followed shortly thereafter. 

Her first thought was to find a doctor who ‘specialized’ in such ‘inconveniences.’ Between the knowledge that a lack of maternal instinct ran in her blood, all women in her lineage getting mistreated to the point that they were simply unfit, as well as the knowledge that she would have to immediately quit the career that had just begun if she wanted to raise the child… 

But the father wound up being a hurdle. He was meant to be a one-night-stand, but he started showing up… again… and again… and again… until she relented and confessed to him that she was pregnant with his child (so she assumed, at least). He was insistent that she keep it… so the compromise became she wouldn’t abort it, but she would immediately hand it off to the man to raise on his own.

Daniel, named by his father, was born. Judith kept in occasional contact, but ultimately tried to leave that chapter behind her.

After that small bump in the road, her agent began lining up more career offers for her. They ranged from OK-I-guess to Not-Katharine-Hepburn-But-Close-Enough. So she clearly went for the latter ones!

Now, for someone who tried to stay clear-headed enough… it became pretty hard as she grew more popular, was invited to more parties, and… given the decade, was surrounded by cocaine! Thus began some more god-awful decisions, a list so long even Leo Tolstoy would put it down before he could finish reading it.

A few years through her increasingly successful career and she found out that she’s gotten pregnant yet again, this time being the result of a one-night-stand had during a borderline bender. For a few days, she obviously considered abortion again. But… how good would it be for her image if she cleaned up and had the baby… and, who knows! maybe she would break the chain of terrible mothers! if she was willing to sacrifice hedonism, then she was clearly doing something right! and… she also felt some remorse for barely keeping in contact with Daniel… so hoorah! replacement!

Turns out she also didn’t have that mothering instinct :\

But it was not, at all, for lack of trying. She never intentionally mistreated her child, Mia (named for Mia Farrow) – she had family days with her and hung out with her and… tried to figure out how to bond with her. She was never cruel like her mother or her mother’s mother or mother’s mother’s mother, so on and so forth and what have you, but… she was Innocently Insensitive. Still caught up in The Scene, there were some nights that were… very loud when she forgot Mia was trying to sleep and invited a bunch of people over. 

Some hedonistic tendencies returned and she found herself allowing a nanny to care for the child more and more often. Never malicious, never cruel, even asked Danny Devito to be Mia’s godfather… but still wound up being a really bad mom.

When Mia moved out, she was beginning to realize she was too old to continue going down the road she was on – to continue making the same mistakes over and over. One child was college-aged, the other was… somewhat older, although she’d lost track of the years. Yeah, she sent birthday cards and made calls every year, but time had just begun blurring together…

As a side-note, this was also around the time she was encouraged to write a memoir. She wound up having to get a memoirist which is a wc!!

The “best thing possible” happened when her mother died a year ago. Her father had already passed, but that was in Fresno – a quick trip. Her mother died in Mapleview, where her roots were laid. Also pls picture her eulogy for her mother like the eulogy in “Free Churro.” Anyway...

So what did Judith do?

Up and disappeared! 

It would’ve been a really excellent publicity stunt… if she’d ever returned. 

She likes to pretend she’ll never return to Los Angeles. The mountain air is so clean and crisp, life is so much simpler, people are so much less… corrupt.

Alas… somewhere in the back of her mind, has many plans to return to her old life. But she needs to make amends first, right?

TL;DR:

(tread lightly if any triggers under ‘backstory’ are triggers for you!)

born in mapleview. parents were awful but also it was a case of transgenerational trauma so there are nuances there. father “abandoned” her and her mom to go fight in the vietnam war bc he wasn’t able to fight in wwii like his brother. came back and joined them in fresno and judith’s mom was like “well u guys lost.... cant say it was unexpected with someone like u fighting :\” judith was like “well i’ve learned i’m what ruined their marriage even tho i’m also the reason they got married so guess i’ll go make something of myself bc i want them to be proud.” eventually got cast in a halloween-esque movie, because of course. got pregnant, yeet’d it to the father, “it” being daniel. became a class-a hedonist. got pregnant again, but got clean and kept her, named her “mia”. was a pretty good mom for a while, then forgot that kids weren’t “used” to the 1980s/90s equivalent of modern-day raves. mia left for college. judith was like “wait,,, im too old 2 keep living this life omg.” mom died a year ago. was like “oh wow perfect excuse to come back to mapleview and pretend i never lived in los angeles ever in my entire life goodbye all ties and connections!!!”

PERSONALITY/MISC.:

spent the majority of her life trying to live up to the expectations set by her mom when she basically said “you better be something great to make up for being alive” + trying to unconsciously make up for ‘ruining’ her parents’ marriage.

ngl family took inspiration from the sugarman-horseman family in bojack horseman bc i just finished rewatching it and :\ i miss it :\ which, in turn, means there’s a tiny bit of muse inspo from the eponymous, but,,,,,,,, like she may not be a good person,,,,,,, but if u’ve so much as seen up to s2e11,,,,, she aint THAT bad.

further basis was fictional director kelsey jannings (of such fame as “women who love women who love recycling”) when she said that celebrities tend to stagnate at the age they got famous. and judith got famous when she was 20.

I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO MAKE IT EXCESSIVELY CLEAR THAT SHE NEVER HAD MALICIOUS INTENTS TOWARDS HER CHILDREN. she just knew she wasn’t ready to be a mother with daniel - it was terrible timing and she genuinely worried about how she would be as a mother ( considering how poor maternal instincts were... basically passed down through generations ) - and she didn’t know how to connect with mia, especially as an addict in the hollywood machine that was literally filled with drugs, thus proving her hypothesis that she would be a poor mother correct. like... I JUST NEED TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT THERE WAS NO ABUSE INVOLVED. SHE AT LEAST DID BETTER THAN HER MOTHER WITH THAT ASPECT.

but, as marina once said, “[she’s] now becoming [her] own self-fulfilled prophecy. oh, oh no! oh no! oh no!”

saddie disguised as a baddie.

also spent the majority of her life as an absolute hedonist. remains one, but is currently clean and trying to remain that way... maybe...

wants to be good so very bad, but doesn’t know how to be.

in spite of said hedonistic and escapist tendencies, she does have a very strong work-ethic. you know. thanks to both her parents + her capricorn moon.

no way to avoid saying she’s selfish, though. no way to.

CONNECTION IDEAS:

** all are open to any gender

her other child (a wc on the main!)

her memoirist (a wc on the main!)

her childhood friend from when she was still living in mapleview (a wc on the main!)

some fans! idk!

arm candy. pls. she’s bi so. they can be a himbo or a herbo or a thembo. 

you see she’s decently older than all of the characters so i feel like most of this will rely on brainstorming and/or chemistry in threads

FEEL FREE TO EITHER LIKE THIS OR HMU 2 PLOT!!

[one-leaf-grimoire]

I hEARD EXCERPTS FROM THE GREY DEER FIC HELLO HI

Okay I will show you the rough draft of the first chapter! I need to cut out some of the exposition but it should give you a good idea of the main character’s backstory and everything. Fun fact: I created this current Grey Deer squad from scratch so there ended up being 12-13 ready-made OCs for me lol.

Warning: alcohol use because I drank for the first time in weeks yesterday and was in that mood

The Clover Kingdom is known for its balmy summers, temperate falls, and forgiving winters. I just so happened to be born in the dead center of one of those winters, on the coldest, most unforgiving night of that year. It wasn't like that made a difference, though. My mother was warm and well-cared for within our large house, heated by mountains of blankets and a crackling fireplace. She was the daughter of a wealthy landlord, and my father was born into nobility. We had it about as good as it could get.

When I was five years old, my parents took me to visit the castle for the first time. I had no idea what was going on, but it was fun to dress up in a frilly dress and be doted on by servants. We met an important-looking man and his family, which included a boy maybe 4 or 5 years older than I am. He had dark hair slicked back into a little bun, and two cold grey eyes that I could never bring myself to look into very deeply.

"So, did you like Prince Lawrence?" my mother asked me on the way home, palpable excitement in her voice. I just nodded a little as I sucked on a lollipop my father gave me to keep me occupied. The truth was, I had said maybe 2 words to the boy before avoiding him the entire time. However, my mother was pleased. "Good! It's very important that the two of you get along."

I didn't know it at the time, but as far as nobles went, we were on thin ice. My mother's once-wealthy father went out of business shortly before his death, and my father's family told him he was a disgrace for marrying into an unstable financial situation. I don't blame them for choosing the one viable way out of their situation... even if that solution ended up being none other than little ol' me. 

What was the solution, you ask?

I was to marry into the Kira family.

Lawrence Kira was a distant cousin of the king, but he was close enough to royalty that it would have us set for life. Back then, I didn't really care. It was decided long before I started to care. I was supposed to marry him when I turned 18, but that plan was postponed when I let my friend Alice convince me to take the Magic Knights Exam. I didn't really know what to expect, but my magic is as potent as it gets, despite being a "cut-rate noble," as some people called us. Lucky for me, a few captains raised their hands, and I chose the one I knew was the best.

And so, seven years later, here I am, celebrating the coming of the new year with the Grey Deer.

"Hey, you, refill my mug, will'ya!?"

I quickly push away the empty mug that's shoved into my face. "Ah, no, I'm not your servant, Nigel," I tell the boy. "I'm older than you, anyway!"

Nigel sticks out his tongue but doesn't push the subject, mostly because he's barely conscious right now as it is. Everyone's been drinking all night, but Nigel obviously doesn't hold his beer so well.

"Aww, we got a little baby, don't we!" Two of the older knights, Margery and Wren, walk over to flank the boy, who looks between them a few times. "You're 20 aren't you? I could down 20 beers in a row when I was 16!" Margery cackles cruelly. She's a beautiful woman who's usually nicer than this, but tonight seems to be making her rowdy.

"Margery, be nice," I scold lightly, being careful not to sound impertinent. She's several ranks above me, after all. However, the liquid courage is going straight to my head. "Not everyone was an alcoholic at 16!"

Wren's bloodshot eyes widen while Margery's face contorts into an over-exaggerated expression of rage. "Are you trying to insult me?!" she screeches, grabbing the collar of my cloak. I know better than to resist as she pulls me so close that she practically spits on me. "Another word, and I'll shove a thousand pearls up your little-"

"Ooh, you're gonna fight?" a booming voice calls. We both look over to see none other than Captain Hervey himself addressing us from the head of the table, sipping wine from a goblet. He's a tall man with blonde hair that spirals up in three big spikes, and a goatee that he never stops toying with. He's got a rather boorish personality, and can be accidentally mean without realizing it. It's not his fault; he's just really good an unintentionally hurting people's feelings. "Everyone, the showdown is finally happening!"

A few people hoot and holler at the announcement. We're a squad of sixteen people, yet we make this room feel like it's thronged with a huge crowd. The Grey Deer are known for their efficiency and elegance in battle, but when we're drunk we resemble the Crimson Lion Kings very closely. Sixteen people, yet not everyone is here. My friend Alice is off on patrol by herself tonight and visiting her elderly mother, so she isn't here to join in with the festivities. So, we're fifteen members tonight...

Wait. There's only 14 people here. Who's missing, other than Alice?

"Are you even listening to me?!"

I'm shaken (literally) from my thoughts by Margery and snap back to attention. "I'm your senior, and I'll fight you right now to prove it!"

"Ah! Actually, I'd rather not!" I hold up my hands to plead with her. "I don't want to use my magic inside!"

Margery practically growls like a feral animal. "Then... let's go outside!"

"Are you crazy? It's snowing cats and dogs out there," Giles, a knight who's my age and joined at the same time as me, observes. Out of the trio of me, Alice, and Giles, he's usually the more logical one. "Just settle it some other time."

It's not worth pursuing any longer, so Margery finally lets me go. "You're on thin fucking ice-" she warns me before returning to her seat. I sigh and shake my head. She's not going to remember any of this tomorrow morning anyway.

Giles sighs and takes another bite of his food. There's more than usual tonight, since it's a rare holiday and all. "How much longer until midnight?"

"Another hour." Elia, my roommate, yawns a little, gazing over at me from across the table with tired eyes. "I don't think I'm going to last that long."

"You have to! It's New Years!" Nigel insists, giggling as if he just told us the funniest joke the world has ever heard (news flash: he has not done such a thing). "It's the only time of year we can slack off like this."

"Ooh, that reminds me..." I wince before looking back up at the head of the table. The seven senior knights and the captain reserve that section for themselves, then the intermediate knights like myself get the middle section. At the opposite end is the "kids area," for all the junior knights. We have four of them right now, two of them being brand new recruits. "Captain, do we have to work tomorrow?"

"Ah... I guess you have to." There's a loud groan from all parts of the table at this news, and Hervey slams his goblet on the table loudly. "BUT! You didn't let me finish!" he roars. "You don't have to get up until 10, how's that?!" He smirks to himself as we all agree, of course. 

"Hey... let's do a game..." Nigel slurs, resting his chin on his elbow. "I'm bored."

"Fine. What game?" Giles actually looks pretty excited for once, and catches the attention of me and Elia.

Nigel grins and straightens up, holding up his hand with all five fingers up. "Never have I ever... made eyes at Vice Captain Malota."

"Oh, ewww!" We look over to see Wren wrinkling his nose. "No offense, but she has a stick up her butt all the time." Malota is a little older, but she's still pretty, with long blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Her face is very angular like a vulture, but... a sexy vulture. But Wren is right; she's a very capable woman, but she has a weird personality.

"... you got me." Giles blushes behind his glasses and puts a finger down. Both Nigel and Wren giggle at him. "Stop it! I'm sure you're crushing on someone here!"

"Me? I would never stoop that low," Wren shoots back. "Okay, okay, I got one... never have I ever broken a bone!" 

Everyone whines at the question, because of course that's happened to everyone. Everyone but Wren, apparently. He gloats to himself as we're all forced to lower a finger. "Who's next?"

"I'll go!" Elia pipes up, which is a little surprising because she's never the one to put herself out there. "Never have I ever..." She grins evilly. "Had SEX."

"oh, EW!" All the boys chorus at once, going red in the face at the sheer audacity. It’s not a very fair question, since Elia is a proud virgin for some reason. "Of ALL the immature things you could have said!" Wren objects, but puts a finger down anyway (not gonna lie... I'm kind of surprised to hear that he isn't still a virgin at 25 years old). Elia just giggles and looks pointedly at the rest of us. Nigel shrugs and puts a finger down, Giles blushes and keeps his up, and I am forced to put one down, which throws Wren into outrage once again. "WHAT?! YOU? Y-You had, you did the-"

"Yes, obviously," I snap, wishing we could just get to the next question already. "What's the big deal?"

"Aren't you engaged?" Giles asks curiously.

"First of all, that's none of your business, second of all..." I cross my arms. "Yes, I'm engaged... who do you think I did it with, dummy?"

A collective "oh" moves through our group. "That makes sense, I guess..." Wren shakes his head and sticks his tongue out at me. "Whore!"

"Shut up."

"OI! I just realized something!" Our attentions are pulled back to the head of the table, where Hervey is scowling at the empty seat to his right. "Julius... he went out for air two hours ago and still hasn't come back!!"

"What, you think he died or something?" Wren asks, shaking his head. "He's probably just got tired of us."

"Unacceptable! It's almost midnight, and my new vice captain isn't even here!?" Hervey growls. "Someone go out and get him... YOU!" I jump with fear as he points a hairy finger right at me. "Go get him! Actually, lure him in with a warm drink! It can't be fun being out in the blizzard all alone!"

I want to ask why me, but when the captain tells you to do something, you do it.

ANd that’s all I have so far. If you have any thoughts please let me know. I know there’s a disturbing lack of Julius in this excerpt but he will appear in the full chapter once it’s finished :)

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Until You Return From the Front Line *Isiah JesusxOC

A request from @everythingandyou

Summary: Tommy’s eldest daughter, Avis, falls for Isiah Jesus but before they can have a whirlwind romance they’d always dreamed of, Europe crumbles. 

//Judging that the ages for the children in the series are wonky enough, I’m just going to have Isiah, Finn, and Avis in their late 20s, Charlie 18, and Ruby as 14.

           Dear Dad,

It’s been about a month since I’ve arrived in France. There are a lot of lovely girls my age. There’s a girl from Birmingham as well! I hope you’ve heard from Uncle Finn and Michael as I haven’t received any letters from them as of yet. I heard from Charlie about a week ago and it sounds like he’s becoming acclimated. It’s been a bit difficult as I’ve never seen such wounds before. There was a young man, couldn’t be more than twenty, who lost a leg. I’m hopeful the war won’t last very long. But I worry for Isiah and the others. Give Ruby and Lizzie my love and let them know I’m always thinking of them.

Love,

Avis

           It was an absolute nightmare. Tommy thought he could raise his children and never have them know the horrors that he and his brothers knew. The War was in the past, Charlie would never know the fear of being buried alive by a tunnel or the sound of bombers in the air and rifles through the night.

           But no longer. Britain had once again declared war and no able-bodied young man was safe from the draft. Charlie, a proud boy enlisted much to Tommy’s anger.

           The two fought over the decision for a few days. Charlies argued that it was the same thing his father had done. Tommy argued that, yes, it was the same thing he’d done and that’s why he was trying to protect his only son.

           Despite the power he had both in Parliament and in the community, Tommy couldn’t pull enough strings to get his son discharged before he was shipped off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Before Charlie left, they had a party for him at the Garrison. Tommy’s three children were all there. Avis was the oldest and the last thing Tommy had left of Greta Jurosi, the first love of his life. Next was Charlie, and finally, little Ruby who was actually taller than her older sister and nearly as tall as her brother.

           Drinks were flowing and spirits were generally up even though Charlie was leaving for the front lines. Everyone tried to remain optimistic. Maybe things would be settled and the young man would never even see a lick of combat. That’s all they could hope for.

           Across the room, Tommy spied Avis. She was a beautiful young woman with dark hair and her mother’s green eyes. Ever since she was little, she wanted to be a nurse. Growing up in Small Heath and around the rise of the Peaky Blinders she’d seen more than her share of injuries. So, with Tommy’s support, she completed nursing school and worked with ill children. Despite her rough upbringing, she was a gentle figure in the family.

           And now she was dancing very close to Isiah. The sight wasn’t too strange as the two had grown up together. She, Finn, and Jeremiah’s son were inseparable on the streets of Small Heath.

           Little did Tommy know; Isiah was Avis’s first kiss. Her first love. When they turned eighteen, he gifted her a promise ring which she never removed.

~~~~~~~~

           As the music slowed down, Isiah pulled Avis closer. “I need to tell you something.” He whispered to her.

           “You’re enlisting.”

           He frowned. “How did you find out?”

           Avis pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Finn told me you two went.” She answered quietly. “I didn’t want to believe him until you told me yourself.”

           “I’m sorry but I can’t stay here while Charlie’s over there.”

           Avis nodded and the two were quiet for a moment as they considered the possibility of being separated. Neither were sure the longest time they’d gone without seeing each other. It was like they were magnets, just due to be drawn back to each other at the end of the day.

           “I’m going too.” She finally spoke again.

           “What?” Isiah stopped swaying with her and lifted her chin so she was looking at him.

           “They told us in the hospital that they needed nurses.” She explained, her green eyes locked on his. “And I signed up. If you’re all going then I am too.”

           He shook his head but he knew there was a very slim chance she would ever change her mind. She had strong convictions and that was one reason why he loved her so. “I’m guessing there’s nothing I can say to make you stay here?”

           She smiled and shook his head. “No.”

           “Stubborn girl.” He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you.”

           “I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Tommy pulled his daughter aside the next morning. “There something you want to tell me?” He asked.

           Avis attempted to feign innocence. Mostly because she wasn’t sure what her father was trying to call her out on. Her relationship with Isiah? Her decision to enlist as a nurse? That one time when she was ten and broke a plate but blamed it on Charlie? “Tell you what?”

           “I saw the way you were with Isiah last night.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “How long has that been going on?”

           Avis averted her eyes and rifled around her purse for a cigarette. “A while.” She admitted. “Why?”

           “Av, I don’t want to control you. You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

           “But you’re worried that people are going to look down on you because your daughter’s dating someone who’s black?” She snapped and glared at him.

           “What?” Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m talking about him providing for you. He’s a Blinder, Avis.”

           “And?” She threw up her hands in disbelief. “He’s intelligent, dad, you know that. If you gave him and Finn more responsibilities on the tracks then maybe they could make more money.” She accused.

           “That’s what you want, aye? Your husband working on the tracks? You could date someone of better social standing, Avis.” Tommy wanted nothing but to have his children succeed. To never allow them to see the slums of life, the worst of the worst of living. They would never go hungry, they would never be cold in the winter, they would never be afraid of being evicted.

           “I want someone who I love more than anything else.” Avis shot back at him. “I’m not marrying someone I don’t love.”

           Tommy ran a hand over his face, deflating slightly. “I understand you love him but…”

           “But nothing, dad. There’s nothing you could say to change my mind. I love him, isn’t that enough?”

           He looked at his oldest daughter, the apple of his eye. Perhaps he was just making up excuses. Maybe he was afraid of her getting old and starting a family of her own. It probably wouldn’t have mattered who she loved. He would protest because time had moved too fast. She’d grown too fast.

           “Dad, I enlisted.” Avis decided the time was as good as any to tell him the other news. “I’m going to serve as a nurse.”

           “No, absolutely not.” Falling in love was one thing. Going into a war zone was another thing. “I will not have you and Charlie over there. Absolutely fucking not.”

           “What am I meant to do here? I’m a nurse and I want to do what I can!” She cried.

           “What if I lose you both, aye?” Tommy stood up and began pacing anxiously. “What if you two both come back in boxes? I’m gonna have to tell your sister that you’re gone?”

           “Nothing’s going to happen to us, dad, we’ll be okay.”

           “You don’t fucking know that!” He shouted. “Neither of you have no idea what the fucks happens in those trenches. You both want to be proud of your fucking country when this country left me and your uncles for dead, buried alive!”

           Tears began to brim in Avis’s eyes. “I won’t be worthless. I’m going to make a difference.” She whispered tearfully. “I won’t sit around while men die. I’m going.” She asserted and left before Tommy could yell at her more.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Avis returned home from France a few weeks before Isiah and Charlie. Tommy refused to let go of her for quite some time. She was home, now he just needed to get his son back and the world would be right again.

           It was like there had been a never-ending alarm over the world for years. But finally, at that moment, everything went completely silent. The echoes faded and now everyone was left to pick themselves up, gather their dead, return home, and find out what normal had been.

           Isiah had been shot twice, once in the leg and once in the shoulder. Finn had nearly lost his arm to a grenade. Charlie had grown very ill from the gases. Michael had a bullet lodged in his back that would have to be taken out by surgeons in London. They’d all been through hell and back but at least they were returned home alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Isiah grinned and dropped his bag when he saw his Avis pushing through the crowds on the train platform.

           “Baby!” She squealed and leapt into his arms.

           “Oh, I missed you so much.” Isiah spun her around, hugging her tightly and then kissing her deeply. He never wanted to let go of her again.

          After a moment, Avis pulled back for a breath. She took in his handsome features, tracing her thumb over his cheek. “I missed you more.” She sighed with relief and kissed him again. Feeling him hold her again was reassuring. Not even a world war could tear them apart. They’d always return to each other.

Masterlist 

[crystallized-iron]

What if I gave tiny glances at draft 1? Because now we’re getting arranged marriage au.

(I don’t know when chapter 1 will actually be posted, it ended up over 2700 words)

Arranged Marriage AU sneak peeks from draft 1! Main ship is Erik Lehnsherr/Tony Stark/Charles Xavier!

=== === ===

“There is someone else you must meet before you retire for the night.”

“Is there?” the boy asked.

“Yes. Your new sister.”

“I have a sister?”

Shaw took him to the drawing room where they found a girl near Erik’s age reading a book on a settee. She grinned up at them. Hello, Erik.

He stared at her. “You spoke… didn’t you?”

“I sent a message to your brain, yes,” she explained.

“And knowing my name?”

Setting the book down, she stood and walked to him. “I can also read your mind.”

“Yes, Emma is a very unique girl,” Shaw murmured. “The people in her town were ready to burn her alive. They still think powers like these are from witchcraft.”

“Maybe they are,” Erik muttered.

***** ***** *****

A man stormed out of one of the rooms. Charles recognized him as Howard Stark. He was normally calmer, playful even when in public. But Charles now knew the man had a loud temper.

After Howard passed his hiding spot among the dark shadows, Charles hurried to the room the man had exited to check on who was made to endure such cruelty, and was surprised to find a dark-haired boy his own age, collecting torn pages from a leather bound journal laying on the floor.

Charles walked in and started helping.

“Who are you?” the boy asked. There was still a tremor in his voice as he spoke, no matter how calm he tried to seem.

“My name is Charles. Charles Xavier.”

“Oh!”

Charles glanced at him.

“So it was your father then that… uh, right?”

“Lost his life to illness?” Charles stared at the pages in his hands. “Sure.”

“I’m sorry that your family lost him,” the boy said. “My father doesn’t believe the illness story. He says Master Xavier was too healthy to fall severely ill so quickly and then… yeah.”

Looking at the boy again, Charles gave him a smile. “Glad to know I’m not the only one.”

“Yeah. Oh, I’m Tony, by the way.”

“I figured that out already, Anthony.”

***** Years Later *****

Erik shook. Anger tensed his muscles and clenched his fists.

“Of course… you could go through with the arrangement. Maybe get closer to those responsible.” Shaw turned away from him. “It would even get you out of the mansion and into one of your own with your new spouse, but I could always go to Emma.”

A promised escape from his near decade long nightmare, away from his devious sister and her mind control, away from Shaw’s training. “How soon?” he questioned, his eyes trained on the floor as he kept his voice steady.

“It can be done quickly. But then you would not meet him until your wedding day.”

“That’s fine.”

“I will visit with Sir Marko in the morning then,” Shaw promised.

***** ***** *****

Charles glared at the window. Marko paid everyone to look the other way when the physical marks on their skin could be hidden, using the old Xavier fortune. It might be a heftier price, but Charles was sure Marko could pay off the city guard to pretend Sharon was truly ill. It would wipe out whatever was left of their finances, but then he would simply marry another wealthy woman ‘recently widowed’.

There was a light tap at his door and then he heard his mother’s voice. “Charles, are you in there? May I come in?”

He pulled open a drawer and shoved his letter to Anthony inside. “If you must, Mother.”

The door opened and Sharon walked inside. The years of stress from her rushed marriage to Marko and heavy drinking had not been kind to her. Deep wrinkles lined her face and her hair had whitened.

Charles greeted her with a small smile. “What is it you wanted to discuss?”

“Kurt told me about the arrangement,” she said as she approached her son. “How are you feeling about it?”

His eyes widened. “Are you actually worried about me?”

“Of course I am,” she told him. “I am your mother still.” Then she sighed and added, “I know I could have been better these last few years.”

“How much have you had to drink today?” he asked.

“Now, son. Is it so hard to believe I might be serious?”

He looked into her eyes. “Very hard to believe.”

***** ***** *****

Tony stared at the pages in his journal. He always found Charles’ script pleasing to the eye, but right now the written words fueled his creative spirit into an electrified energy he could not yet unleash. His father Howard had requested his presence for tonight’s dinner, which would be ready soon. When Tony tried to decline, Howard said, ‘I have news about your friend Charles.’

He sighed, hiding the journal in a desk drawer. What could have happened between yesterday and today? Was Charles sick? Was he… sick? The same illness that took the Xavier patriarch years ago?

Tony stood from his desk, unable to stop himself from pacing. Marko would not dare to kill Charles just as he reached adulthood, would he? Unless… was there an inheritance involved? But Charles said just about everything they had was spent already on his mother’s addiction and Marko’s lavish lifestyle. Did Charles reaching the age of eighteen threaten the man somehow? What could he possibly gain?

[probablyjustamagpie]

Chapter 1 is done!

or the first draft at least. Lemme know what you think before I inevitably delete this in embarrassment

I remember flying for the first time. I felt invincible, free from earthly constraints. And then I got a face full of sap-ridden pine needles. 

 Nine years later, and my luck doesn’t seem to be getting any better. Today had started off high, when I managed to snag the last cinnamon roll from under my sister’s nose (she’d already had three, the brat)(come to think of it, how did she even fit that many in her stomach? She’s tiny!), and I spent the afternoon soaring over the garden, feeling much more like myself than like a girl trapped in a castle. Father had even offered to take me into town for a new dress rather than fetching for the tailor.

Then dinner came around. Que me, a magic user, at a table of nobles who would have me sacrificed to the gods in two seconds flat giving the opportunity. All of these social events left me feeling stickier than if I was covered in pine sap. It wasn't as though I could slink away later either, not when the gathered lords and ladies all wanted to marry their sons off to the Imperial Princess. Maybe I didn't even want to marry a man (I do, but that's beside the point here). The aftermath is worse though, with all the dimwitted nobles vying for attention

“My Lady! I haven’t seen you since your brother’s wedding!” An older woman exclaims. Her ridiculously tall beehive updo sparks the slightest recognition, as do her tawny wings, but I’m left at a blank for her name. I spent most of Brenton’s wedding trying not to interact with all the stuffy  nobles who I didn’t recognize. The seven-year-olds Mirin hangs out with at these events are much more fun, even if I am practically 16.

“Oh, yes. Well I don't get out much, after all. Plenty to do here. At the palace, with my studies and all.”

“Ah, yes. I remember my studies when I was your age. Though, I don’t really use them much now. Your husband takes care of everything darling, so don’t fret!” Oh. I remember this one. Countess Ryelle. Lower down the chain of command, brainwashed into a useless sack of jewels and satin by her husband. She used to be one of the brightest people in the empire. I used to admire her, till I met her.

“Is that so?” I try not to sound sarcastic. “Oh, would you look at that, my father is calling me over. I’ll be seeing you.” never, I add under my breath.

My father pulls me aside. I’m not mean enough to lie, unfortunately. “Aria, the Prince of Mordu is here. I wish you would dance with him.”

“Must I?”

“At least pretend to enjoy these events, he may be your suitor.”

“Fine.” It comes out bitter and angry, much more than I truly feel. Dancing is fun, despite who attends these events. Still, my steps are forced and awkward as I approach the prince.

His hair is close shaven, and he looks at least 5 years my elder. Not to mention that he isn't Symphinian, and though humans aren’t bad, they always want to touch my wings. Nevertheless, I smile, trying to look like I’m genuinely afraid he might say no to a dance.

“Hello,” he says, curt, but not unkind. His voice has an unfamiliar twang to it. “Have you come to ask for a dance?”

“Yes. I am Princess Aria.” I nearly fall over when I curtsy without spreading my wings, trying to make the human prince more comfortable (I think it's ridiculous, but Father insists), and he grabs my arm. His grip is firmer than necessary, and I try not to shudder.

“Try not to fall at my heels, Princess. I’m afraid it happens all too often.”

“Is that so?” I ask, brushing off my dress. I hate it when 

“Why yes. Who wouldn’t want to dance with I, Prince Hayden of Mordu?”

“I’m sure my brother wouldn’t.”

He seems genuinely taken aback at my statement, before he laughs.

“You surprise me. I wouldn’t mind taking you as mine.”

I suppress another shudder at the thought of being considered his property. I extend my arm and flatten my feathers, pretending the whole interaction hasn’t made me feel very, very slimy. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

I suppose dancing with Hayden isn't the worst thing. He seems unsure of the steps but insists on leading which is, frankly, obnoxious, but he at least doesn’t reach to stroke my wings at all. The Reolan prince I had danced with earlier had desperately wanted to touch them (Like I would let a stranger touch my wings. He clearly hadn’t read up on the Symphinian etiquette, even though Reola has the second highest population of us in the world).

I still walk away from the dance feeling sticky with his intentions. No matter the customs the royal courts of the world had seemingly agreed upon, 16 still felt like too young to be married off.

When the night began to draw to a close, I spotted Finnigan stationed at one of the exits. Tap his shoulder from behind, and whisper in his ear.

“I’ll see you on the roof later, ok?” before ducking back into the ballroom.

I don’t have time to see his reaction before my father calls attention to himself. 

“Lords and Ladies gathered here, I must apologize. Princess Aria has accepted a proposal, Prince Pascal of Suther!”

My heart drops. The prince in question was the worst of the lot I’d danced with. He’d touched my wings despite my protest, and would hardly let me speak. He was sandy haired, weak limbed, and generally an entitled weasel. Had I chosen (as my father had said I would be able to do, on my birthday)(he never really did care for me did he? To much like his wildfire late wife, who he snuffed out) it never would have been Pascal, not in a million years. And the cherry on top, the part that really got a fire stirring in my veins, was that Suther was the worst kingdom in Aoris.

See, Suther was where the Cruel King lived, as Finnigan and I called him. He had no restraints or hesitations when it came to magic. The moment I got married I would be signing  my death sentence, doomed to be sacrificed publicly or to quietly ‘disappear’. Like my mother had. As my father had sworn, per her last wish, would not happen to me. But apparently, dying vows mean nothing to a man like him.

I’ve lived years like this. Expecting the worst. But the feeling of betrayal is incomprehensible. You think your mind can come up with the worst things imaginable, with no limits of reason, and real life turns out to be worse. I take a deep breath. In, and out, in and out. Don’t explode. “They will be married in a month's time.”

My…. birthday. I will be married on my 16th birthday won’t I? That's when my life is going to fall apart. Pyla, it's already falling apart(who the hell am I, praying to Pyla? I’ll probably be sacrificed to her specifically).

“I wish all of you safe travels home.”

The nobles trickle out, until Pascal and his mother are the last two in the ballroom, besides Father and Mirin. The adults talk off to the side, as the prince approaches me

“Hello.” Pascal says, like we haven’t met.

“Hello.” It's tight and forced as a hold back my tears.

“You look sad, darling,” he strokes my wing and I draw the tight to my spine, instinctively moving back a bit. Mirin grips my hand, holding tight.

“Hey! Don’t touch my sister’s wings.”

“What did you say?”

“Don’t touch her wings. You can’t do that until you get married, or unless you are family. Or like, really, really close friends.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you tell me, darling?”

“I did. You didn't listen.” I practically whisper. 

“Well it doesn’t matter any how. In a month's time I can touch them all I want, isn't that right my little blackbird?”

“Jackdaw, actually.”

“What?”

“I have the wings of a jackdaw.”

“Does it matter?”

“Female blackbirds are brown, like Mirin’s wings. Mine are those of a jackdaw, jackass. Like my mother’s.”

Mirin ignores the swear. She’s heard worse from Father. But she squeezes twice. I need to calm the fire in my gut. Literally. Two squeezes means I’m getting hot.

“Mirin, why don’t I take you off to bed?”

“Ok, Ari.”

I swing her into my arms, and head to the door when Father stops me.

“Aria, you have a guest, where are you going?”

“It's getting very late. Someone needs to go to bed.” I tell him. Mirin yawns for added effect.

“Oh, a maid can do that. Come and talk with your fiance.”

“I don’t care.” I think Father sees the fire in my eyes, because he lets me go.

I bring Mirin to her room, and give her a good night hug.

“Is he a bad man, like the ones that took Mama?”

“I don’t know yet Miri. I don’t know.” I let the tears fall.

“Mama was brave, you said. You can be brave too.” I can be brave too. A plan begins to form in my head.

“And you as well, but it's practically midnight, so off to bed with you now.”

“Fine. Love you Ari!”

“Love you Mirin.”

Though I started crying with Mirin, it's not until I've locked the doors to my room that the downpour starts. I let myself sob so there is nothing left in me, lettting the hurt and betrayal spill out. The fallen tears begin to drown my fire, and I’m left feeling like a husk, empty and dry.

I wipe the final tear from my eye, and take a ragged breath. With no tears left the fire returns to my veins, for after all, a dry husk is a very flammable thing. The ornate clock on my wall reads 12:27. I shakily stand, and walk to the balcony. I shake out my wings and breathe. In and out. In and out. I wake more as the cool night air enters my lungs and dries the remnants of tears from my skin.

I get a slight running start and soar up onto the roof. As expected, Finnigan is waiting for me. I ran to him. He swoops me up in a hug, blotting out the stars and moons with his wings.

“Aria, are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest.”

I disentangle myself from Finnigan, and sit down. He follows suit. Mirin and I, as well as my brother when he’s home, live in the westernmost tower of the castle, and the roof is inaccessible without flight. It’s flat, and the ramparts protect us from being seen for the most part. Not that anyone is looking. 

We’ve spent so many nights here together, ever since we could both fly. To think that was eight years ago seems wrong, we were the same age as Mirin then. If we aren’t careful she might just end up joining us up here.

But that won’t happen. Not with what I have planned.

“Do you want to stay here?”

“What do you mean?” Finnigan asks, surprised.

“Do you want to stay here? Do you really want to be my bodyguard for the rest of our lives? To stay in the castle and never explore? To pretend not to have magic for the rest of time?”

“Well, not when you put it that way.”

“Does it ache? For you. It aches when I can't use it.”

“Yeah.”

I let my hands catch flame, the way my body has been begging me to do all night. 

“I’m getting married, Finn.”

“I thought-”

“Yeah. I thought too.”

“So?”

“Pascal. I’ll be married to the Cruel King’s son.” I stand, and let the fire go as I lean against the rampart. “I’m going to die, Finn.”

“What? Your father swore. He swore this would never happen.”

“He probably got a large dowry. He doesn't care. We knew that.” I look out to the west, away from this all. You can see the faint glow, for in the distance, of the burning forest.

“What are you going to do?”

“Me? Oh nothing… much.”

“Do tell.”

“What do you say we run away?”

[reeree1500]

The Return- Part 5

Guys I'm so sorryyyy!😭I HAD MAJOR WRITERS BLOCK😭 It was actually so bad! And then the fact that Tumblr deleted my whole draft and I had to start it over again🙄 Big surprise towards the end btw😂Anyway here's part 5 y'all...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 Part 10

Disclaimer: My sucky writing, Incest, grammar and spelling😅 and just overall the whole thing😂 please don’t kill me🙏🏽😂 @yanii-the-hippie is already trying to😂

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @youbloodymadgenius @laketaj24 @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @cainismyname @readsalot73 @wuxiesalt @camatsuru @amy8220 @cutegyrl927 @cindy-exo @affection-rabbit @ragnarssonsbitch @mel0nch0ly @queenofallthyfandoms

Flashback to 6 years ago...

“RUN! (Y/N)! RUN!” Helga screamed...

 On that fateful night you had been awakened from your slumber by one very worried Helga. She was the wife of the scary looking man Floki. And you could never come to understand how such a cheerful and radiant person, could be with someone so dark and mean. Helga had come in to the homestead whilst everyone was asleep. She had overheard her husband and Aslaug talk about getting rid of the christian child of Ragnar Lothbrok. She knew about (y/n), but she never thought that an innocent child would have to pay for the sins committed by those around her. 

As Helga made her way silently across the home trying to find the child, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. She was betraying her husband and the Queen at that. But she couldn't get over the fact that an innocent child would be murdered. When she sees (y/n)’s and Bjorn’s bodies cuddle up on the bed, she softly approaches the little girls’ side. Tapping her on the shoulder she manages to wake (y/n) up. Startled you go try tp scream and thats when she places her delicate finger over your lips. Signalling you to be quiet. “Follow me, you and your family are in grave danger.” The feeling of wanting to protect your family from anything consumed you. Even being 13 years old you understood that family came first and that you would gladly lay down your life to save theirs.  With that, you untangled yourself form Bjorn’s embrace and gave him a small peck on his forehead, then you made your way to your parent’s room. You peeked inside to make sure they were asleep and then tip toeing to where they lay in an embrace you softly kissed both of them goodbye.

You knew that this may very well be the last time you ever saw your parents. But, you could tell through the look in Helga’s eyes that whatever she was talking about your family being in danger was in fact the truth. Helga helped you gather some of your things quickly and as you rushed to the door, you almost forgot your teddy. “Wait, I need to grab my teddy. I cant leave without it, its the only thing I’ll have left of them.” You silently whisper towards Helga as she stands watch by the door. “Ok, but you must hurry. They'll be here any second now. And if they find you, I can assure you that no one will survive.” At that you scurry back towards your room. In there you find a sleepy headed Bjorn almost waking up. “(y/n), what are you doing? Come back to bed, you know we’re gonna start your training tomorrow morning.” He yawns out. “Sorry, I'm just really thirsty. Ill get a glass of water and come back ok?” you murmur to him. Bjorn just nods whilst yawning and goes back to sleep. But before you close the door and disappear you can hear him murmur the words I love you...

Your POV

After the moment that we shared in the Great Hall as a family happened. Mother, father, Bjorn and I had gone down to the lake by the old homestead we once lived in. There we all lied down on the grass and I had caught them all up on what had transpired on that night 6 years ago. “So let me clear this up, Helga...as in Floki’s wife. Broke into our home and kidnapped you and then sent you away on a boat to Frankia...” said Lagertha trying to wrap her head around the subject. “Well, mother I wouldn't really put it like that, but technically yes. She kidnapped me in order to save me and yourselves. Or so she claimed. She didn't really get into details on who was after me. She just told me that my life was in danger and I finally believed her when we were being chased by a group of mercenaries.” I respond to her. In that we all fall into silence. Over looking the lake I can tell that my family is processing all this information. Not only because of how quiet they are at the moment, but because I can feel their eyes on me. As if they believe that I shall vanish right in front of them.

“I missed this... Having my family together, overlooking the lake and just the serene and calming effect that this place has on us.” My father breaks the silence as he looks out towards the lake. He runs his fingers through my mother’s hair. And I cannot help but think about how come they never told me. “Soooo... since we’re all together finally. Can someone tell me how in the name of God and all that is good. No one ever told me about Aslaug and her sons?” With that my father’s fingers come to a stop at the ends of my mother’s long golden locks. “It just went something you tell your child out of the blue, (y/n).” My mother responds for my father. They always did this. Even as a child, when one of them was being questioned. The other would jump in and save them as if the question was directed at them. “But why keep it a secret? I don't understand, if you were married to Aslaug and Ivar and I are the same age that means that you laid with mother during the time you were married to her. Meaning that I have no claim to anything. Im a bastard.” At this my father lifts my mothers head from his lap and turns to me. Rage and sadness is what I am able to detect from his electric blue eyes.

“You are not a bastard child! I will not have you slander my name or your mothers with such lies. Your mother and I are married, in the eyes of both the Christian God and Freyja and Odin. Yes, your mother left me when Aslaug became pregnant with Ubbe. And many years later she came back to me, however I could not let her go. Be it selfishness or pride, she was mine and I am hers. Till death do us part!” At that tears well up in my eyes. Not because Ive just been scolded by my father. But, because this is the first time that I could really say that he has shown me his emotions. The night where we reunited, was only a small glance of emotion. But, this moment here had probably been the closest thing to a heart to heart that I have ever had with my father. He wipes my tears away and then goes to face Lagertha who had also been tearing up through this revelation.  And they share a small, but passionate kiss.

I do not know if its just the overwhelming emotion that I’m processing, but I cannot help but bring my finger to my lips and think of a certain ill tempered boy...

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As the hours went by, we had decided to not only renovate and clean up the homestead. But we relieved some of the old memories we had. Bjorn and I decided to get in the water and go for a swim. Whilst Lagertha and Ragnar stayed in the house “cleaning up”. Bjorn and I knew exactly what that meant. As I laugh thinking about the situation that my parents are in. Bjorn sneaks up behind me and dunks my head into the water. I try my hardest to push him away and try to get rid of his hold on my head. My lungs need a break and as I almost felt my self drifting away, Bjorn pulls me back up. Gasping for air and coughing out the water from inside. I turn around and hit Bjorn’s chest as hard as I could muster at the moment. “Bjorn! What the hell!! you could've killed me!”   I yell at him through my punches. “Ow..ow.. OW!!!. I was just joking... Jeez woman lose up!” He responds trying to shield himself form my hits. “Well it wasn't funny...”

As I swim towards the shore and go to collect my clothes, Bjorn turns me around and looks into my eyes. “We need to talk. And it’s not something that you are not getting yourself out of.” At this I can only gulp. Did he find out about Ivar and I? Is it possible that Hvitserk told him? No..no, Hvitty wouldn't do that. But then again he’s know the boys his whole life. I have just met them. “What about, big brother?” “Sigurd told me something when we had been waiting for mother’s arrival. And you could say I‘m a little concerned, and I just want to get to the bottom of it.” He says while eyeing me carefully. At that moment before I could respond the sound of the horses hooves could be heard form down the road. Bjorn and I quickly exchange looks and begin to dress immediately. We run towards the homestead and burst through the doors. It seems as whatever mother and father had been up to had just finished. 

Seeing our exasperated sighing and how flustered I must have looked father reaches for his sword. “Why are you both so out of breath?” Mother asks wrapping the quilt around herself.  “We heard horses down the road. We didn't know if they were friend or foe. And Bjorn didn't have any of his weapons with him.” I manage to get out. At this both father and Bjorn make their way towards the door.  Peeking out the one of the small holes Bjorn is able to make out who it was standing outside. “Its the guards accompanied by Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar.” Something told me that this would be quite eventful...

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Ivar POV

The moment (y/n) and her mother reunited in the great hall brought a tear to everyones eye. I admit that maybe I got a little emotional as well, but no one would ever know that. However, I noticed that my beautiful mother had left the room with rage and tear filled eyes. I had never seen my mother go through so many emotions in one day. She went from having a good blessed morning to having a shit hole day with that whore Lagertha coming back. I mean she gave birth to my beautiful (y/n), but still. Every time I see her I cannot help, but want to choke her to death fro all the pain she caused my mother.

Shaking me from my thoughts Ubbe starts going off on Hvitserk. “How could you be so stupid! (Y/n) has a target on her back and you decided to go off into the woods alone without anyone else?!?!?!” In this sense Ubbe was right, Hvitserk put (y/n)’s life in danger all because he wanted to take her from me. It wasn't enough for these people that I am a cripple. But they want to take the woman that the gods sent to me! This is unacceptable and I will not allow it. “Ubbe is right. She could have been killed because of your insolence Hvitty!” I scream at him. My blood had been boiling at this point. “Oh shut up Ivar! We all know that if she would have asked you to go with her, you would have done the same. If not take her some place remote where she could not leave your crippled ass!” Hvitserk barks back at me.

All this time Sigurd is sitting by the fire pit whilst tuning his lyre. “You both should just accept the fact that you're in love with your own sister. And that it will never go anywhere. Besides I overheard father speaking in his chambers the other day with Bjorn. They're looking for suitors to marry her off to. That way she will be hopefully safe from whoever is hunting her.” Sigurd says as calm as one could ever be. At this my mouth hangs open and Hvitserk and I exchange glances. “N..No... That cannot be. Father would never marry (y/n) off to someone she doesn't know. And the fact that he just got her back should keep him form doing so as well.” Hvitserk struggles to say. Im still trying to process the fact that my purpose to live will be taken from me once again. This I cannot allow...

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“Ivar you’re sure that this is the right way?” Hvitserk asks me for the hundredth time. This time instead of answering I just keep going. This man-child will not drive me insane today. Not when the task at hand is so dire. Making our way through the woods and down the path, I spot my father’s horse as well as 3 other ones. Urging my horses to go faster I catch a glimpse of (y/n) runnings towards the homestead whilst trying to slip her dress back on. The way that the drops fell from her hair and onto her chest and then down the valley of her breasts made me come to a halt. Before I knew it the guards and Ubbe had all passed me and there I was still sitting in my carriage on the same spot. Once she was out of my sight, I got it together and got to the house. There we were greeted by father and Bjorn. “Ubbe. what brings you all down here?” my father asks. “We wished to know what we should do about the investigation. You all just took off without alerting anyone.” At that Lagertha steps out of the homestead clearly in a disheveled dress. From that we can guess what her and father were up to before we could get here. 

“Actually Ubbe... Your father and I have come to terms that (y/n) shall be trained by me. This way I can properly teach her how to use her strengths and weaknesses to her advantage. Something you boys will not be able to teach her.” At the mention of this (y/n)’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well... Mother (y/n) isn't really one to train, if Im honest with you. Poor girl is was never taught how to properly defend herself. And through all the training that we've put her through, its not much of an improvement...” Bjorn says, but then trails off due to (y/n) punching him in the gut. I can tell you that I have never been as in love with someone as I am with my own sister. Which is ridiculous to many, but the truth...

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Your POV

Weeks from the time that my mother arrived had gone by. My training started immediately after the conversation that we all had at the porch. Ubbe and the boys had finally gotten somewhere with the investigation with the help of Lagertha. They had found the murder weapon, a small dagger with intricate designs. Bjorn had taken it to get a closer look, but from what I had seen in his eyes I could tell that he knew who was behind this. As I think of who could have been behind the murder of my best friend, the wind is knocked out of me. “(Y/N)! Concentrate! Never take your eyes off your opponent! Thats the number one rule on the battlefield!” My mother yells at me from above. Extending her hand out towards me I grasp on to it and she pulls me up from the ground. Dusting myself off I mumble an I’m sorry to her and that I will concentrate next  time. “When facing a real opponent child you will not have the luxury to be better again. Its do or die!” She holds onto my shoulders as she looks into my eyes and then leans her forehead against mine. “I want you to be able to defend yourself. It might come a time where neither your father or I. Bjorn and your brothers will be there to protect you. And I need to be able to sleep at night with the thought that my child will not be taken from me again by some imbecile...” 

My mother and I exchange a final glance before she heads off towards the great hall in what I think is an attempt to find my father. My father and Bjorn have been very secretive lately. Every time I walk into a room I can tell that the conversations they were having were about me before I got there. And it was very much getting on my nerves. Picking up the bow that Ivar had made for me I start to aim at the dummy target. But before I knew it something startles me and I let go of the arrow without knowing where it would hit. “AHHHHH, are you trying to kill me woman?!??!”

“Ivar, Oh my God I’m so sorry. You startled me.” I say whilst rushing towards him. “I see that you've taken a liking to the bow I crafted for you...” blushing from his words I simply nod my head and stare at the ground. “(y/n). I wanna have a serious conversation with you. But it must be done in private.” He whispers the last part to me. I rear my head towards him and proceed to grab his hand. Ivar takes it upon himself though to lace our fingers together and walk together to "our” chambers. Passing by the market, I notice the looks that people have been given us and the not so quiet whispers. Embarrassed and not wanting to drag attention to myself anymore than I already have. I attempt to let go of Ivar’s hand, but he will have none of it. He jut grips my hand harder and walks a little faster towards the cabin. 

Once inside Ivar walks towards the bed and starts taking off his braces. “Close the door please. I would like this to be a private conversation between you and I. For the time being.” Doing as told, I close the door behind me and make my way towards him. Ivar is struggling to get one of his braces off, so without thinking I kneel before him and push his hands away to try and help him out. At this action Ivar looks at me with shock and a hint of adoration. Over the last 3 months that I have been here. I observed Ivar take his braces off before bed. Something about them fascinated me and I couldn't pinpoint what it was. Picking myself up from the floor I go to sit beside him on the bed in one swift movement Ivar pushes me back on the bed and gets on top of me. 

Before I could scream his lips touch mine. Unlike the times before I find myself reciprocating the kiss. Our lips begin to move in sync with each other. He traced his tongue on my bottom lip asking for entrance which I denied. At this he got frustrated and slapped my ass. As I opened my mouth to yell at him for hitting me, he took this as a chance to slip his tongue in my mouth. There was no fight for dominance as he overtook the situation. My fingers tangle in his hair trying to pull him closer to me. His hands caress my sides and then cup my breasts. In this I cant help, but let out a moan. Ivar pulls back and stares at me while bringing his hand up to brush my hair outta my face. “I would really love to continue this, but there's something I have to tell you (y/n).” He untangles himself from my grasp and brings my hand to his lips. Placing small kisses on the back of my hand he closes his eyes and then reluctantly gets up. As I lay on the bed, I can only think of what we were up to seconds ago. What would have happened if we didn't stop. Pulling me into his lap and out of my thoughts Ivar grabs my face in his hands. 

“Before you got here I was a scared and lonely boy. With no notion of what love was or could have been. To think that the gods made you especially for me and brought you to me at the most opportune time is a sign from Odin himself. (Y/n) I will not let them take you away from me. Not now or ever...”  Ivar closes the gap between us with a small and tender kiss. “Ivar... it’s wrong. How we feel about one another isn't right...” my eyes well up with tears. What cruel joke is this that God is playing. Why? How come the man that I love is my brother... Brushing my tears away, I could tell that Ivar is having the same predicament. “Father plans to marry you off... That is what I wanted to talk to you about.” His eyes do not meet mine this time. “Wait...no it cant be. Father would never do that. he always said that I would be free to marry whomever I pleased and fell in love with...” Nothing the change in my breathing Ivar hugs me and rubs my back. “I will not let them. You will not be sold like cattle just because they cant find the killer and are afraid.”

“This is why I want you to runaway with me. Will you (y/n)...” 

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Bjorn POV

I cannot control the anger boiling inside me. How could she do this... Storming off from the meeting I went straight to my cabin. There she greeted me as if nothing was wrong. “Love I made some...” Throwing the bowl of soup from her hands I pushed her back onto a chair. “Bjorn what's wrong with yo...” “What wrong with me?!?!?! How about what's wrong with you? You killed Mira! You tried to kill my sister!” At this point all I see is red. I cant even describe how I felt when I saw that the murder weapon was Torvi’s dagger. And to think I was gonna tell her the truth and let her in on the reason as to why she could be wanted dead. “Bjorn.. please! It was not like I wanted to do it! Aslaug forced me too. She had said that you were in danger! Please Bjorn you have to believe me! I did it for our family!” Shaking my head at her I turn around and head towards the door. “Get your stuff, I don't want you here when I come back. I will tell my father everything that you and Aslaug have been planning. And for the sake of what we once had I will give you this heads up so you can leave. And do not come back!” Slamming the door of the cabin I head towards the great hall and begin t think to myself about the first time I laid eye son my sister....

19 years ago...

“Bjorn... come meet her.” I didn't want anything associated with that child. The fact that I had already lost a sister and that my parents had now taken in a child that wasn't theirs baffled me. “She's not my sister. She the child of a christian priest...” At that my mother looks at me with sadness in her eyes. “Bjorn I know that you still hurt over Gyda and the fact that she didn't survive and you did. This child however is your sister. No matter how she came into this world, the gods have given us a second chance. Please come and meet her, for my sake?” At that I go towards my mother and get a closer look at the child. Her features resembled that somewhat of my father’s. Not much, but enough to be able to pass as the child of my father and mother. “What about Athelstan? Is he okay with you taking his child?” I ask my mother. At that my father walks in and kneels before me. “You must protect her with your life Bjorn. From this day onward she will be yours to take care off. She is your sister and no one must know that in fact she is Athelstan’s daughter or she and all of us will be in danger.” At that I understood why my parents had done it. Taken a child that wasn't theirs in order to protect it. Although I didn't want her, I cant help but feel a strong sense of protection over her. As if my sole task in this world is to protect her... “Bjorn...she doesn't have a name yet. Would you like to name her?” My mother asks whilst placing the child in my arms. The baby opens her eyes and looks up at me. Her beautiful eyes open up to reveal those (y/e/c) orbs. She cracks a smile at me and at that I cant help, but laugh. “(Y/n)...her name will be (y/n).”

[hexiva]

Book Reviews

I’m getting back into reading fantasy, getting a bunch of random books out of the library if they look good. I thought I’d post my thoughts on them.

The Tiger at Midnight, by Swati Teerdhala Inspired by the culture of ancient India and Hindu mythology, The Tiger at Midnight by Swati Teerdhala features a cat-and-mouse game of deception and thrills between a rebel assassin and the reluctant young soldier tasked to bring her to justice.

Just finished this one. There were definitely times when I thought I was just going to stop and take it back to the library unread. It’s by no means a terrible book, but in many ways it feels too much like every other YA book I’ve read. I really like the concept of the central romance: it’s an enemy romance, which I love, the characters have a pretty equal power dynamic, and there’s no gross abuse stuff to put me off. It also felt like a gender-reversal of the typical YA dynamics - Esha is like the dark, handsome, conflicted romance hero, and Kunal is like the sweet, repressed heroine. I liked that, and I really liked Esha as a character. Kunal was by no means unsympathetic either. But the relationship between the two of them, which was central to the book, felt really under developed. The narrative informs us that they feel something for each other very early on, when they’ve barely spoken, and continues informing us of their feelings, but I kept wondering . . . why? There were a couple of points where there was a line like “It’s strange that I feel so strongly for him given we barely know each other!” and I feel like, when you find yourself writing a line like that, you should sit back and think a bit about why you felt the need to point this out. It felt like there were opportunities for them to be pushed together and bond, and the book didn’t really capitalize on them - or, rather, acted as if they’d already been pushed together. It felt like it was missing a key moment early on in the book where they bond. There’s a reveal halfway through the book (pg 300 out of 500) that they knew each other as children, but it’s too little too late.

5/10. I’m thinking of picking up her next book because I feel like there’s a lot of potential here and I’d like to read a more polished version of this book.

Akata Warrior, by Nnedi Okorafor A year ago, Sunny Nwazue, an American-born girl Nigerian girl, was inducted into the secret Leopard Society. As she began to develop her magical powers, Sunny learned that she had been chosen to lead a dangerous mission to avert an apocalypse, brought about by the terrifying masquerade, Ekwensu. Now, stronger, feistier, and a bit older, Sunny is studying with her mentor Sugar Cream and struggling to unlock the secrets in her strange Nsibidi book.

Awhile back, I was at SDCC, and I walked by a publisher’s booth, and they handed me the first book in this series, for free! They just gave me a whole book for free! I’ve had this happen before at cons, but it’s usually self-published stuff, or spin-off books of dubious quality. But this is a book that’s perfectly relevant to my interests, a YA fantasy novel with an exciting new setting, and they just gave it to me! What a wonderful thing to have happen.

Anyway, I was hooked, and I got the next book in the series out of the library. I loved it. The woman at the publisher’s booth told me this was “Nigerian Harry Potter,” and I definitely got Harry Potter vibes from it. It honestly took me back to my days reading the original HP books in a way none of JK Rowling’s subsequent books (or the movies) have been able to do. That’s not to say it’s a copy, or anything - this series is way more eager to dig into the big, magical mythical stuff that HP mostly only hinted at, and is conversely much more willing to spend time in the real world and discuss real-world issues. It’s . . . really really good.

Also, as a personal bonus for me, there are multiple cool magical creatures which are arthropods - mythical spiders, cool magic wasps, I just love it.

9/10. My mom stopped reading it halfway through saying “As I get older, I’ve had less patience for books that aren’t very good.” But then again, she never liked Harry Potter as much as I did either, so maybe she just doesn’t get our generation.

Click more for reviews of We Hunt the Flame, Bloodwitch, and The Throne of the Crescent Moon

We Hunt the Flame, by Hafsah Faizal Zafira is the Hunter, disguising herself as a man when she braves the cursed forest of the Arz to feed her people. Nasir is the Prince of Death, assassinating those foolish enough to defy his autocratic father, the king. If Zafira was exposed as a girl, all of her achievements would be rejected; if Nasir displayed his compassion, his father would punish him in the most brutal of ways.

I really wanted to like this book. I’ve been reading a lot of Middle-Eastern history and the thought of a fantasy inspired by that is 100% my jam. But this book is just . . . not that good. It’s not offensively bad, it just feels like the first draft of another, better book. I actually did not finish this book. I gave up and took it back to the library.

The main romance feels very predictable, and honestly, it was giving me big Reylo fanfic vibes. The exposition, of which there is massive amounts, is clumsily delivered. It feels like it ought to be the second book in a series, because there are so many past events being explained all the time.

The one thing I kinda liked was the bits of Arabic in the book, and the choice to not exposit the Arabic bits on top of the fantasy bits. And I learned a new Arabic word from this book! That’s a positive.

3/10. Wish they’d spent more time on the editing.

Bloodwitch, by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (and its sequel, Bloodkin) Vance Ehecatl was raised with every luxury he could imagine in a beautiful greenhouse within the powerful empire of Midnight. Vampires are the only guardians Vance has ever known since he was abandoned by his shapeshifter family as a baby quetzal, and he is grateful to them for generously providing for all of his needs. When an act of violence forces Vance from his sheltered home, he is startled to meet Malachi Obsidian, a fellow shapeshifter with conflicting ideas about Midnight and its leader, Mistress Jeshickah.

This is a new book from an author I loved as a child. Atwater-Rhodes published her first book at 14, when I was four, and I came across her books when I was 11ish and first learning to write. Her book Hawksong was the first romance story I really enjoyed, and its sequel Wolfcry was one of the first times I ever encountered a queer romance in a fantasy novel, at a time I was starting to wonder whether I was queer.

This book still caught the same interest I had in her books all those years ago. Bloodwitch is set in the same world as Hawksong, but centuries later. Personally, I would have preferred a book set in the same timeline, but it was still great to return to this world and its conflicts and magic.

With that said, it wasn’t perfect, and this wasn’t one of those times where I returned to an old favorite author and was like “Oh my god, I never appreciated what a genius she was when I was a stupid kid!” I was particularly struck by Vance’s character arc in the first book, which felt uneven. Vance is raised by the villains, and believes they’re the good guys initially. And then, early in the book, one of them kills his friend in cold blood, shouts at him, tries to kill him, and chases him out of their stronghold. And then . . . he goes back to them, and there’s ANOTHER, separate moment where he suddenly realizes they don’t care about him and turns on them. I really didn’t understand why that first moment didn’t shake his loyalty, but the second one did.

I was also kind of disappointed by the lack of queer characters. A lot of my favorite straight authors, when I checked back in on their work in 2019, have included queer representation, and because I knew that Atwater-Rhodes is herself queer, I was really hoping for some of That Gay Shit.

7/10. Give me that gay shit, Atwater-Rhodes, I know you’re holding out on me.

The Throne of the Crescent Moon, by Saladin Ahmed The Crescent Moon Kingdoms, home to djenn and ghuls, holy warriors and heretics, are at the boiling point of a power struggle between the iron-fisted Khalif and the mysterious master thief known as the Falcon Prince. In the midst of this brewing rebellion a series of brutal supernatural murders strikes at the heart of the Kingdoms. It is up to a handful of heroes to learn the truth behind these killings.

This, this was the book I wanted when I picked up We Hunt the Flame. This is the quality content I want in my fantasy novel. I fell in love with the main character, Adoulla, almost immediately, and I was terrified he was going to die. I just love this prissy, hedonistic, idealistic, middle-aged, fat hero so much, and I will RIOT if Ahmed kills him off.

I liked the other older characters in this book a lot too. Ahmed clearly has a knack for making cool characters. Dawoud and Litaz are cranky old ex-adventurers. Adoulla’s love interest is a middle-aged sex worker who really wants him to commit and marry her or fuck off, and I am so rooting for them, I want them to live happily ever after, they deserve that.

The treatment of sex work and sex worker characters in this book is also a major plus. There’s a lot of moral ambiguity in this book, where I’m not sure which character we’re supposed to believe, but the one issue the book takes a firm stance on is DON’T BE AN ASSHOLE TO SEX WORKERS, THEY ARE PEOPLE TOO. This book is written by a man and is not the kind of feminist fantasy I read a lot of (like We Hunt the Flame and The Tiger at Midnight are) so I was pleasantly surprised by this strong pro-sex worker’s rights message.

On the downside, I did feel like the younger characters were less interesting than the older characters. They still felt like colorful, detailed characters drawn with a skillful hand, but they also felt much closer to the kind of characters you usually see front and center in a fantasy novel. What I loved about Adoulla and company is that you don’t often see fantasy heroes who are fat and old and tired. The romance between the two younger heroes is competently drawn and believable but I did find myself wishing the camera would pan away from them and go back to the cool characters.

Other notes:

I found out that Saladin Ahmed is a Marvel Comics writer and is writing a comic about my favorite superhero, Ms Marvel, and I couldn’t be happier with that news.

I was certain, reading this book, that Ahmed plays D&D and that this book was inspired by D&D, and HA, CALLED IT. My nerd-dar is ON POINT.

9/10. Adoulla is my dad now, no take-backsies.

[overwhelmed-ravenclaw]

Admitting Having PTSD

Admitting something like this is extremely hard for someone. For me, it was especially hard because of the fact of how my family is. They have toxic tendencies and the other side is majority toxic in general. So I am not precisely safe from them playing blame game if they even admit it to themselves that I do have PTSD.  I hope this helps someone else who has to admit their family or to other people about PTSD. Also, I would like to point out that I didn’t tell my whole family (I won’t tell my whole family) and I will also like to say that others may have even more different reactions. It is something scary and no one knows what to precisely expect. I was trying to be trigger wary while writing this. TL;DR at the end I’ll have a line separating them. Everything I pre-typed for this is undercut.  @ptsdconfessions​

My family like most is complicated. It feels to me like mine is more so than a lot of others but I know that probably isn’t the truth. My mom left when I was young, which is important to this but not what this is about. I had accepted my mom left because she wasn’t happy in her marriage to my dad. She explained to me she didn’t know where she was going so she couldn’t take us with. She didn’t want to put us in any kind of danger by accident. For a 7-year-old, I understood she was trying to protect us and get out of a loveless relationship. 

I have 4 older sisters, but one doesn’t play a role in this till years later, so I am going to skip her for the time being. (She was adopted after my mom left and around the time the PTSD started to form)  My counselor and Therapist both had repeatedly suggested I explain more than “I have depression” to my family. They knew that I knew I had PTSD. The reason behind it varied to a bunch of things that most of which happened before I was 13 and there was nothing I could do about it. Some of the stuff that happened later in life adds onto that but I am going to stay vague to avoid triggers as much as I can. None of my PTSD had to do with my mother leaving, or at least very little did, because if she was there then a lot of it wouldn’t have happened.

So I first sat down with my sister and uncle who lived with me. I am going to call this uncle (huge family) U-D, the sister at hand is L. L’s reaction was “So you are mentally insane, that means you can get disability and quit your dream of whatever it is, I don’t know it doesn’t make sense.” My dream is to help children that dealt with same past like me and make sure they don’t end up as bad as I did, so I became a paraprofessional (Fancy word for special needs aide) The other part of my dream is to become a published author. Not through self-publishing but a big name company. I don’t care if my books don’t sell, I want to know that I have at least tried to be an author.

U-D stated that he doesn’t understand how I have PTSD because I was never in the army or warzone. Later on, he learned what happened to me when I was little, or at least small bits, from my sister B. Let just say after learning some information he had dropped that I couldn’t have PTSD and just went with it. L kept pushing me to do things that she knew would trigger me till finally not one but four councilors had all sat down and explained to her what she was doing, she kept it up. She saw that if she can keep triggering me then I will do what she wants to make her leave me alone. Then eventually I told my aunt AD and my Dad. Dad stated he could tell that I had PTSD because of the fact that he was a lousy dad. Which is partly true. If he would have done what should have when I was little then I wouldn’t have it this server. He isn’t fully at blame but he admitted he did things wrong and knows it. AD then learned a few of the things through dad and me. She was supportive and wanted me to seek deeper help. Which I did with her encouragement and her nudging me on the path of healing. Next person I told was my grandmother on my mother side. Up to this point, I have only talked to the family who is on my dad’s side and I can be face to face. My grandparents on my dad’s side passed away years ago and my grandfather on my mom’s side passed away while I was still a baby. So this grandmother was the only one I could talk to. Her reply to finding out made my stomach feel like I had eaten lava and nauseous. You know the feeling that you just did something bad and disgusting and you get after that? Well, that was my version of that feeling. I am getting it now, but I want to get this story out here.

My grandmother’s reaction which a lot of my PTSD does ties back to her in my childhood… was the simple saying “It is your mother’s fault. She left you at such an impressionable age. It caused you to have depression. If you would stop living in the past your doctor wouldn’t mistake it as PTSD. So start smiling more and live in the future!” Which I ended our conversation with a quick “My phone is dying, talk you later” then it took me 2 months to be able to call her again.

My Aunt who works at the hospital AB was next and AB snorted. “I have known that since you were twelve. You on medicine now for anxiety? What kind so I can check it against my copies of your old medical records.” Which was a huge Wait, what? So I told her my meds, she then told me to ask the doctor about lower doses because I don’t take medicine. I never liked to. Which the doctor agreed and gave me lower doses and the kind my aunt requested because, after a second look, the doctor stated that it would be better for me. I have nightmares that make me have insomnia. (Solution to that is lots of caffeine. Mainly coffee.)

My sisters B and M (adopted one I said I would skip for time being) both knew about me having PTSD but because my dad wouldn’t seek help for me when I was little there was nothing they could do until I was an adult. By then they thought I already sought help, but only did about 2 years ago. I haven’t told my eldest sister, because a huge chunk of it is because of her and her husband. I also haven’t explained properly to my mother because I don’t want to make her worry, she has PTSD too. I know I will have to eventually. That just left one uncle that I was extremely close to. AD’s husband. When I finally told him about it he dismissed it stating “Everyone has PTSD.” Which made me confused and I stated that. “Listen, you are perfectly normal. You are fine. Nothing is wrong with you. What they claim is PTSD is normal for everyone. Everyone has it. It is like breathing air, it comes naturally to us. You just have to ignore it and move on in life. Not take the medicine they give you and become a pill popper, man.” ((He’s an old school hippy)) He then started to use that tone that parents do when you have done something wrong when I tried to explain that it wasn’t sadness or depression that I have actual flashbacks and nightmares. That I have physical issues once triggered that too much happens at once to explain in dept. Which one he started to give me that look and down talking me saying basically what he said before. He stormed off and act liked I was an idiot. I was heartbroken because out of everyone, I figured he’d understand. He was drafted into a war when he was 17 so he should have understood, right? Talking to AD later, I explained what happened and I could see the emotions in her eyes seemed to scream in annoyance. Not at me, but at her husband. She then explained to me when she first met him in her teenage years, he was already married but they were filing for divorce, they became good friends since they worked together. She was a waitress, he was the cook. He then told her about how he has been forced to see a doctor who he thinks was coo-coo (her words) he had been diagnosed with PTSD from the war, though he was just a sailor who picked up injured soldiers and brought them home, and he was diagnosed Bipolar. He didn’t like how the medicine made him feel and react so he stopped taking them declaring that they were trying to make him into a pill popper, which she stated it took him months to stop having the withdrawals from the medicine. In the 80s before his daughter was born he tried again, and again he didn’t like how they made him feel and once stopped taking them the withdrawals were the worst thing he has ever encountered or at least that is what he told AD. So much like how older people in our small town area is still using racist words but not in a racist way, only because their mind is set to that programming that can’t be overridden, he is same way about medicine for “fake mental illnesses” and that was why he was so hard on me. He still is hard on me whenever someone brings up about when I need to take my medicine and he is around. It got to the point I have actually started to try to avoid him as much as I can. I hate that because I love spending time with him at his house, we do crafts together and bounce craft ideas off of each other. He used to come over to mow the lawn for me so I didn’t have to use the old push (not engine mower it is an actual push contraption with opened blades and you have to put your weight on it to make it cut the lawn) He does it with his actual mower that is run on gas. Now avoiding him, he started to avoid me too and I hate the feeling of loneliness I got. In my family, it is rare to hear someone to say sincerely “I love you” he did. No one else in my family besides, my mom, B, and M do that. Everyone else does it as if they rehearsed it and don’t mean it. Like it is something that they are supposed to say. Which when I hear it so sincerely from him or my mom or my two sisters that do that, it puts me in tears of happiness because my normally numbed emotionally body is filled with this comfortable warmth. Any bad thoughts or images that popped in my head or even the worst day imaginable, once I hear those words with someone being sincere, it is all out of my mind and I am too happy to care about anything else.

TL; DR // Summary

So each had a different type of reaction to me coming out.

L - Money, thinks she is going to get to control me because I can leave my job (I am not getting money because of PTSD) 

UD - At first not understanding then he is. He makes sure I eat and when triggered he normally gives me chocolates and make sure I take my meds.

AD - Love, lots and lots of love. She buys me random stuff (including lunch while I am working at the school) and my favorite yet is when she baked me a freaking cake because I was annoyed at my sister trying to trigger me before I got to school that day.

Dad - Guilt and understanding.

Grandmother - Blaming everything and everyone else not even caring what was the true cause, when that didn’t work then stated I don’t have it just living in the past.

AB, B & M - They knew already and thus why they were always loving and supportive of me (besides B always states “You are my baby girl, of course, I love you” Then I normally get roped into really tight hugs that make all my bones pop.)

Hippy - Denile. Claims that PTSD isn’t real. Set in old time ways of thinking when really damaging to me but he doesn’t mean to be. He is trying to be helpful.

I’m leaving my mom out, I rather her think for now until I have to tell her, that I just have depression. It is easier on her mental health and I don’t want her to stress and worry about me.

[soul-music-is-life]

More About Me Than You’ll Probably Ever Want to Know...

Came across this questionnaire at the bottom of my drafts (right beneath a thread I started ages ago titled “PLL plotholes that were never resolved” that I plan to finish before the world ends) and since it’s another sleepless night and I need something to occupy my brain, I figured...why not?

1) Do you have a good relationship with your parents? This would be the first fucking question. I have re-evaluated how much I used to take them for granted. Nothing like a family tragedy to slap some sense into your head.

2) Who did you last say “I love you” to? My mom. Or my dad. Probably both of them. Or it may have been one of my friends who called to check up on me. Hell, I’m just saying it to everyone at this point. Because you just never know, man.

3) Do you regret anything? Regrets are just lessons learned. And I could write an entire school decade of lesson plans with what I’ve learned.

4) Are you insecure? “You’re insecure. Don’t know what for. You’re turning heads when you walk through the dooooor…” Jesus, I just started singing a One Direction song. What the fuck is wrong with me?

5) What is your relationship status? Single, cuz don’t nobody want this crazy dorky mess.

6) How do you want to die? Happy. So the key to immortality is to be all emo.

7) What did you last eat? Salted milk chocolate caramel. Actually, I think that’s the only thing I’ve eaten all day.

8) Played any sports? Awkwardly and badly.

9) Do you bite your nails? It’s a horrible habit I’ve had since I was a child.

10) When was your last physical fight? I do get distracted and run myself into the wall a lot, does that count? I may have done it ten minutes ago.

11) Do you like someone? I like a lot of someones. No, I’m not a whore. I just like people.

12) Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? Ha. Hahahahahaha, I am an insomniac whose mother is currently in the ICU. I’m going for the record of staying up for 48 days.

13) Do you hate anyone at the moment? Mostly myself, because I’m really good at self-loathing, especially when I’m editing my writing. Which I’m doing tonight.

14) Do you miss someone? My mom. I miss her annoying me constantly with her stupid emojis and talking to me about our TV shows and just being ridiculous in general.

15) Have any pets? I have a very bossy cat.

16) How exactly are you feeling at the moment? The weather is being a bitch, so my head is currently about to explode.

17) Ever made out in the bathroom? Public or private? Because, like, ew, public toilets are filled with so many disgusting germs that the last thing I want to do in there is roll around in those germs. Private? No comment. Heh.

18) Are you scared of spiders? No. I rescue them when I find them, because my hatred for mosquitoes far outweighs any fear I might have and they eat mosquitoes. So, house spiders and I are homies. But Brown Recluse and Black Widows? I’ll burn those motherfuckers to death.

19) Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? The older I get the more I answer yes to this.

20) Where was the last place you snogged someone? Ohhh, a Brit came up with this questionnaire and I just love that. And actually, to answer the question, I’m not really sure. I haven’t dated in a while.

21) What are your plans for this weekend? Read. Write. Pretend reality isn’t real. Maybe I’ll remember to eat and sleep. Who knows?

22) Do you want to have kids? How many? Yes, but I don’t know how many. Depends on how much I like the first one I guess. *glances at future first born, puts weight of world on that child’s shoulders*

23) Do you have piercings? How many? Yes. I think. Maybe. It’s been a while since I’ve worn earrings, but I’m pretty sure they’re still pierced.

24) What is/are/were your best subject(s)? Lunch and recess. I was great at sneaking food off to the playground and then hiding from my teachers. My teachers hated me.

25) Do you miss anyone from your past? I do.

26) What are you craving right now? Relaxation. But since that’s not happening, I’m just gonna go for like…pizza or something instead. Take THAT arteries!

27) Have you ever broken someone’s heart? Not intentionally.

28) Have you ever been cheated on? Yes.

29) Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? I don’t think so, because unlike Shonda Rhimes and George RR Martin I don’t need the tears of my relationships to survive.

30) What’s irritating you right now? Adulting. Just being an adult in general. It’s so hard. I want to go back to the days where I was stealing from the cafeteria and hiding on the playground.

31) Does somebody love you? I like to think so.

32) What is your favourite color? Purple and royal blue.

33) Do you have trust issues? Majorly.

34) Who/what was your last dream about? My mom.

35) Who was the last person you cried in front of? My neighbor. We hugged it out. She is good people.

36) Do you give out second chances too easily? I do not. See the question about trust issues.

37) Is it easier to forgive or forget? Neither, unless you have memory problems, then I guess it’s easier to forget.

38) Is this year the best year of your life? *guffaws, falls over laughing* 2018 and I are having creative differences and I have decided that it’s best for the both of us if we just mutually split.

39) How old were you when you had your first kiss? Five. Ah, playground shenanigans.

40) Have you ever walked outside completely naked? Is that…are you not supposed to? *whistles while carefully backpedaling to room to put on clothes* Come on, I live in the south where it gets hotter than Satan’s butthole in the summer.

41) Favourite food? Chocolate. Tomatoes. Not together, of course. Ew. Although… *leaves to try something* …nope ‘ew’ was right.

42) Do you believe everything happens for a reason? You know, I like to believe so, but there are just some things I’m not so sure about. Like…Beiber. Why? Don’t @ me.

43) What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? I never went to bed. See the question about staying up for 48 hours/days.

44) Is cheating ever okay? Personally, I don’t believe in it, but I’m not going to judge anyone for how they choose to live their lives. Just wrap your tool when you do.

45) Are you mean? I’m a sarcastic asshole, so that can be taken as mean sometimes, I guess.

46) How many people have you fist fought? I have lost count. I did not grow up in a stable neighborhood.

47) Do you believe in true love? Call me an idiotic dreamer, but I do.

48) Favourite weather? This is a trick question, because no matter what I say mother nature is going to attack me. Winter = black icy death. Summer = death by heat. Spring = death by tornadoes. Hmm, maybe Fall is the way to…nope, Fall = leaf piles of fiery death.

49) Do you like the snow? I do. But do we get snow? No. We get 8 fucking inches of ice.

50) Do you wanna get married? Maybe some day.

51) Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? Eh, I could take it or leave it.

52) What makes you happy? My TV. My TV understands me.

53) Would you change your name? I would consider it. I would consider changing literally everything about me. I’m going to start a new life in Canada where no one knows me. I will adopt a moose.

54) Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? If it was, why would I have kissed that person in the first place?

55) Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? “Listen, when my (future) husband dies, you and I can get a condo at the beach and grow old together like we planned, and oh, wait a second, you just started plotting my (future) husband’s death, didn’t you? Well, let’s just skip that then. I don’t feel like burying any bodies.”

56) Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? I do. He’s a good homie to have. Listen, I’m here to tell you, if you can’t be your true self around someone (regardless if they are the opposite or the same sex) then they may not be as good a friend as you think. Just be you.

57) Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? See above question about my good homie to have.

58: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? You know, considering neither my dad, nor I, are good with talking about our emotions and shit, the fact that my mom has been in the hospital for over a month has spawned some really in depth conversations. And my best friend, because my best friend just gets me. We all need that Thelma to our Louise to keep us from hot-rodding a car over a cliff. You find you your partner in crime and you hold on to them.

59) Do you believe in soulmates? Absolutely. Mine is just apparently lost as hell.

60) Is there anyone you would die for? Many people. I would throw myself in front of many buses for many people. But to be fair I’d also throw myself in front of a bus to get out of paying my student loans. And to get away from the current government. And to just finally get some goddamn sleep.

Alright, I’ll quit flooding your feed with my nonsense now. Hope I entertained at least one of you. Peace out.

[autisticadventurer]

Unedited Excerpt

As some of my readers may know, I have been working on putting together a memoir. It’s not as fancy as it sounds and it’s actually been a very difficult project but it is a labor of love. If anything, I hope that it will be my contribution to ensuring that future generations of Autistic people are treated with dignity and respect, and also to help build a bridge in helping non-Autistic people to better understand us. Anyway, I have also talked a lot about my affinity for spirituality. It’s been my main special interest for my entire life but I had a very real turning point in my young adulthood. What I am about to share is rough copy, unedited, I literally just shit it out through my fingers just now... but within it is nestled some of the general experiences that have colored my spiritual journey. I hope that my readers take from this two things: 1. Rough drafts are usually terrible, disorganized garbage. They get polished up later. If you want to write, remember that you have to shovel sand into the sandbox before you can shape it into the castle. Editing is where the magic happens and I haven’t done any here yet. 2. Spiritual development takes a really fucking long time. This point of interest happened nearly 10 years ago. Everything I’ve done since then to get to where I am now has taken work, blood, sweat, tears, and all kinds of other nasty pain. Please Enjoy.

We spent a short time in Wyoming, after returning from Costa Rica. I felt a kind of culture shock upon our return. Never had eight lane highways seemed so decadent as they appeared after seeing the compact cars of Central America, crowded together in narrow lanes. Things felt too big, too wasteful, too modern. Richard was happy to be back in the land of convenience, at least. After a while, I adapted too. We loaded a moving truck with our belongings and made for Seattle. It was a twenty-two hour drive. I asked if we could take the slightly longer route through Yellowstone as I’d never had a chance to visit before. It would add two hours onto the drive time but surely the view from our first hotel would be worth it. The answer was no and there was to be no argument. Instead we took the route through Utah and up through Oregon. When we arrived in Seattle, we stayed in an extended stay hotel with a kitchenette while we searched for an apartment. The contents of the moving truck went back into storage and we were back to zipping around in his car. We found a place to live pretty quickly. It was the basement apartment of a house. The top of the house was also rented out. The upstairs neighbor had a cat and so did we. Sometimes they would play with each other through the crack in the door. There was another apartment that we looked at that I can still remember because the general layout was in the shape of a square. If we had lived there, I could’ve easily walked to school but it turned out to be lucky that we didn’t have a traditional lease agreement with a traditional landlord. I loved the school. I loved the program. My grades were as high as ever, although I earned a B in Human Anatomy. The food in the cafeteria was wonderful and healthy... But there was also a lot going on that was difficult for me to understand, both inwardly and outwardly. Every once in awhile, I meet a girl who I feel romantic feelings toward but have no sexual interest. I met one of them during this time. I still feel a little ashamed of myself for making the friendship awkward but she probably doesn’t even remember me. Besides, she was the age I am now as I write this; there were ten years between us. I spent a lot of time with her but not much else. Perhaps I over exaggerate in my memory how awkward I was. I was married and controlled my behavior but I wanted to hold her hand. I asked her if she ever liked girls. She said no. There were many eccentric characters on Campus, though none of them seemed genuinely eccentric. Their eccentricities were all based in appearances. If you spoke to any of them for any length of time, their interests, habits, and beliefs were well within the range of normalcy. We all had mentors, but I never really knew how to connect with mine or what to ask. At one point, one of the upperclassmen told me that eventually, my classmates and I would have to needle each other in the perineum. I was twenty years old. I had already had much body trauma, and I had no idea how to cope with putting a needle in another classmate’s perineum. It was hard enough for me to cope with the idea of practicing by putting a needle into myself. I didn’t know who to ask about this because nobody seemed to be a reliable source of information as we were often told that we’d get to things as we went along. I decided to quit the program. After finishing my first and only quarter in attendance at such a beautiful school in a prestigious program, I withdrew. During the entire time we lived in Seattle, the sun came out only twice. I was as heavy as I’ve ever been in my life by the time we left. I was lacking in friends, confidants, sunshine, and purpose. I was also beginning to struggle more internally. One thing I learned while in school was Qi Gong, a practice which I have carried with me since I left. My teacher barely spoke english, and had learned the forms he taught to us while still living in China. I believe in English, the form I still practice is called, “Small Heaven.” Obviously, we took Chinese (Mandarin) lessons as well. Learning the language and the practice from cultural natives helped me to understand them better. I had tried meditation before this, with no teacher and no idea what I was doing. After a few lessons in Qi Gong and daily practice, I began to experience some strange things. I think anyone who was raised with a strong sense of self, a nurturing family, a safe and comfortable home, and reasonable guidance would not have had such an extreme experience. My affinity for spiritual study, while it led me to study acupuncture in the first place, also more than likely magnified what happened. The only way to explain it is that the universe seemed to be rippling around me. This was not all at once apparent. It did not happen overnight or with only one practice. Instead, it was like sand shifting on a hillside, followed by a few pebbles and maybe a rock or two. This was enough to catch my attention, and I was ready when the boulders finally gave way much later. At the time, my communication skills were very poor. I had no idea how to describe what was going on and the only thing I knew to say was that God was talking to me. Everyone I discussed it with had their own interpretation of what this meant. Nobody helped me to understand it. Instead, what was once a life, barely held static by threads, became a wind swept storm with no level ground or shelter. I was much more easily overwhelmed by things. I couldn’t keep pretending that I was somebody that I was not but I didn’t know who I was either. At one point I fainted and went into convulsions because I was so stressed out about forgetting something at the grocery store and didn’t want to return. I didn’t have the vocabulary to say, “The grocery store is overwhelming me with the lights and sounds.” In fact, I didn’t even understand that I was experiencing sensory overload. I just fainted. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it was the first time it had happened in the absence of a hypodermic needle. A neurologist told me that it was a nonepileptic seizure and just to be careful. I was afraid of riding the bus. I was afraid of driving my husband to the airport. I was afraid to go out and explore the city alone. I was pushed to do all of these things but still avoided them. I once went to a Taoist temple to see what it was all about, but I am too solitary for religious services. It wasn’t for me. I returned to quiet meditation by myself. When I quit school, my husband was upset at me and so was my mother. Nobody knew how to take it. They had been dismissive of my struggles throughout the passing years and I didn’t know how to talk to them in a way that they would understand. I can only tell someone something so many times and be ignored so many times before I give up on telling them anything. We packed up our belongings and returned to Wyoming, forgetting the contents of the storage room; we just never went in there and forgot our extra stuff. We paid the landlord for the removal service, of course. This was the point in my life where I completely and totally lost my way. I came to the realization that following other people’s goals for me had not worked and would not work. I realized that my entire personality was a charade meant to appease my mother and husband and his mother. I realized that I had no idea who I was or what I wanted out of life. I had been denied any clue that might have helped me to find level ground to stand on, and finally gave up walking over a shaking, crumbling stage. Reaching my limit of being misunderstood and confused, and refusing even to crawl, I sat down.

[ghelikblack]

Failed attempts at courting.

Still the same week as yesterday. And here’s another little treat for you all lovely people, including the random porn-blogs that follow me for some reason. 

This is somewhat longer than the previous, so if you prefer reading on AO3....

“A marriage to Wanheda would be ideal” says Chris, sitting to his left, Reynard nodding eagerly, Alex is polishing her nails feigning disinterest, which means she thinks too it’s a good idea.

 Roan fights the urge to roll his eyes at his apparently completely blind advisors. Not for the first time he thinks he’s not cut out for this. His brother was the one groomed to be a king, to follow his advisor’s advices and stuff.

 He shakes his head, but Rainard cuts in, speaking with the wide vocals and expressiveness of a puppy on joby nuts typical for his region “Chris is right. We cannot trust a simple treaty. A marriage is important.” He’s looking over Roan’s shoulder when he adds waggling his eyebrows. “Also, imagine her riding towards your heir.”

 Chris smirks and even Alex looks interested over at the blond skaikru heda. Roan does not pinch the bridge of his nose, but is a close call. Because, yes, he’s not blind, and Clarke is a very attractive woman, but there is a list as long as his forearm of reasons why even thinking about proposing an arranged marriage to her is not a good idea.

 When he looks over his shoulder to look at her, there is the main one, standing a foot away from her, scowl in place and mouth set in a severe line. “She’s already married.” He tells his advisors, because the mess that is Wanheda and her Knife’s relationship is something he doesn’t want to approach with a ten foot long pole.

 “That is not what she said”, says Alex to her fingernails. “She explicitly stated that she isn’t.” the advisor’s sharp blue eyes rise to Roan’s, a soft smile on her lips. “Also Echo seems interested in the Wanheda’s Knife.”

 Chris snorts and promptly looks around to make sure Echo isn’t anywhere near him. Chris, Roan and Echo grew up together, being all around the same age, which means the king’s advisor learned from a very tender age not to mess with the king’s spy.

He shouldn’t have bothered, Echo is currently hunting some treat for Bellamy. Roan would make fun of Echo’s awkward attempts at courting if he were doing any better at his own.

 And it’s not nearly as ridiculous for Echo to be tongue-tied and nervous around Bellamy, since, as far as Roan knows, the warrior has never before been infatuated with anybody.

 Roan, on the other hand has courted many times; he even was engaged for a brief amount of time, before Haiplana Nia discovered his brother’s coup and decided to kill everyone involved. Including sweet Minnie.

  “Even if she isn’t” he adds tiredly, “Skaikru leaders won’t allow their heiress and biggest assets to move to the Winter Palace. And it wouldn’t just be Clarke, Bellamy would tag along, too.”

 “No arranged marriage is perfect” says Alex, shrugging. From the three advisors he brought with him to the skaikru settlement in order to negotiate a full – official – peace treaty, Alex is the oldest. She was advisor to Roan’s mother before him and ‘has seen some shit’ as skaikru would put it. She herself was forced into an arranged marriage at the tender age of twelve and has born her husband five children all but the youngest, who is still a young teen, in high-ranking positions in the Azgeda army.

 “I am sure of it. But the point still stands. If the Chancellors don’t approve the union…”

 “A compelling argument can be made.”

 “They will not accept it.” Roan sighs tiredly, the pounding behind his eyes starting to get annoying.

 “Someone else, then” Reynard’s eyes twinkle with mischief when he leans forward, forearms resting against his knees. “What about the dark mee-jaa-nik?”

 Roan narrows his eyes at him while Chris tries and fails to be discrete as he elbows Reynard in the side. “That is, surprisingly, not a bad idea.” Alex concedes. “She is not spoken for, from the Skaikru Inner Circle and you” she looks sharply at Roan “have made your interest in her clear already.”

 Roan splutters. He cannot think of a single reason why that is not a good idea, which feels wrong. He has been trying to turn Raven’s head for over a month, but the mechanic has a tendency to ignore his attention or brush him off. He has sat through hours of her distracted ramblings, only for Raven to blink at him as if she hadn’t noticed him sitting by her worktable. He has brought her food and ancient mechanical contraptions for her to tinker and has even attempted speaking to her. But he – much to everyone’s amusement – turns into his stuttering thirteen-year-old self around her.

 “If this is settled, I’ll draft the final conditions for the skaikru to consider” says Alex standing and marching away and into one of the two huts they’ve been given for their stay.

 “I really think you should reconsider asking Wanheda” says Chris. “Even if you have to take her Knife with you. It is the better choice.”

 Reynard barks out a laugh. “Can you really imagine Wanheda and the Knife cooped inside the Winter Palace for three months? The sexual tension there would have everyone fucking like rabbits.”

 Chris makes a face at his friend. “Come on, Roan. It’s not like you haven’t had your share of pretty boys.”

 The king rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but I’d like not to be the odd one out in my own bed.”

 “Also, there is the problem of children looking a little too much like the Knife and too little like the King.” By now Reynard is nearly in tears, even though neither Roan nor Chris find this particularly funny.

 Roan huffs “Anyway, it has been settled. We will ask for Raven’s hand.”

 “And no one has thought about the fact that she’s a cripple and how that will look to our people.” At once Roan snaps to attention, his eyes boring holes into Chris’ skull until the other man wilts and mumbles a quiet “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Haihefa.”

 “Oh! Echo’s back” Reynard shakes their shoulders excitedly for them to turn and look at Echo, who’s striding with long purposeful steps to where Clarke and Bellamy are seated at one of the tables strewn around the large gathering hall.

 In times of peace, the warrior’s face is clean of any war-paint, but she’s even refrained to paint her eyes with coal, like some girls like to do – as far as Roan knows, that is the only ‘girly’ treat she allows herself. Her hair has been pulled back into a long braid that swishes sharply behind her, and she’s dressed in a light linen short tunic that leaves her throat bare, and leather pants. She’s carrying a small writhing animal by the scruff of its neck and Roan has to fight the urge to smile at her.

 During Azgedan courtships, it is customary to show off one’s hunting abilities, bringing back small animals one has been able to shoot with one single arrow; or larger ones, as proof of being able to sustain a future family.

 Three days ago Echo had found Roan and told him how she had brought back a tiny hummingbird she had been able to shoot through the eye. “I even made a special arrow as to not break the skull!” Apparently Bellamy’s expression had been ‘utterly horrified’.

 Apparently Echo has decided Bellamy is of a ‘kind disposition’ and has brought him something alive.

 The three men hold their breath as Echo clears her throat to get Bellamy’s attention and promptly plops the small furry beast on his lap. The cub gives a tiny high pitched roar and Bellamy instinctively rubs his head, calming the beast that has left scratches all over Echo’s forearms and legs into a purring ball of soft fur.

 The two skaikru warlords exchange a look before carefully turning towards Echo. The warrior is blotchy with a not very becoming blush, her shoulders tense and hands clawing at her own pants like she has to physically restrain herself. If it’s from running way or launching herself on the object of her devotion, Roan isn’t sure.

 She’s stiff as a board when Bellamy smiles at her. She turns and stalks off with her trademark quick purposeful strides.

 ***

 “I hate these sky people” says Echo by way of greeting.

 A few days have passed since she gifted Bellamy the baby panther – which has been adopted and has received the name Sekhemed, because skaikru are ridiculous and Bellamy doubly so – and Echo has been all over the place, being at the same time too shy to properly talk to him and too bold to leave him alone.

 “What have they done this time?” Roan asks as he stretches. In theory they’re meeting to spar. In theory they’re meeting at the break of dawn, because they’re from up north and this summer is too hot and humid to do much of anything during most of the day.

 They do actually spar – and bicker and complain about how these ridiculous sky people don’t understand subtlety and how they’re this close to just go and spell it out to them – but… They try to time their best moves with the highest chances they might have for the objects of their affection to see them.

  Since the sparring ring is strategically situated on the path between the sleeping area and the mess hall where everyone goes to eat  - do these people not know there exists the possibility of having a private kitchen?  - their sessions start pretty early  and end rather late – because Raven is an owl and doesn’t emerge from her small hut until well past ten.

 The good thing about it is that the mechanic always sits near the sparring ring with a cup of coffee, after grabbing her food from the mess hall, so Roan is feeling pretty confident that at least this is working – somehow.

 “Harper somehow found out about my infatuation” she grumbles, taking off her light tunic and shoes and slipping into the ring clad only in a skin-tight shirt and pants.

 “I wonder how that happened.”

 Echo punches him and he remorselessly swipes her legs from beneath her. “Shut up.” Growls the assassin, kicking him on the side of the knee and destabilizing him enough to send him to one knee with another whip-like kick. “You’ve only been too obvious for a year now.”

 “Ass.” She blocks both his blows and evades the sweep of his legs completely. “Anyway. Harper has given me advice. On how skaikru courts.”

 Echo jumps at him, making him take a step back, and promptly uses his leg as a step to aim a blow at his face with her shin. Roan manages to duck, but Echo’s other leg drapes around his shoulder, hooking and she’s suddenly sitting there, completely destabilizing him and sending him once again to the ground.  

“So what do they do?” Roan asks once he’s managed to slip out of the warrior’s grasp.

 “They go out on ‘dates’, which are pointless strolls around. They go to watch animated pictures. They tell stories.”

 “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

 “And there’s a tradition of gifting flowers.” She stumbles slightly back when he manages to land a blow. “Which is as pointless as the strolls. They don’t even need to be useful. Just pretty.”

 For a few moments they stay silent, concentrating on trying to get the upper hand on the sparring. “How are you supposed to decide if your partner is a good fit by their ability to find pretty flowers and walk aimlessly?”

 Roan shrugs. It seems pretty pointless.

 Then again, he did have relationships in the past. Echo has never had that, she had learned from spymaster and queen Nia herself to use her body as she would a blade. If she ever needed to get something out of someone without using force she would just disrobe before them and fuck their brains out until they were like potty in her hands. She hasn’t had any sort of actual relationship and until she found Bellamy, Roan wasn’t even sure she even wanted one.

 Echo didn’t do feelings. She used to complain when he went to her with his, arguing how Minnie wasn’t that great, or seamlessly tearing down his infatuations with unhealthy doses of brutal honesty.

 Roan remembers asking her why she even bothered, what about the Knife was so different? Echo had been blotchy with embarrassment and maybe one too many cups of skaikru’s moonshine. “He’s kind.” She had said, refusing to look at him. “And funny and caring. He would be a good father.

 “Do you want to have children?” Roan remembers that had left him openly gaping at her. Echo had just snorted in a very un-ladylike manner. “Oh, hell no!” she had shrugged “But he does.” And that’s all he ever got.

 Roan shrugs “I don’t know.” But he does, because he’s spent hours listening to Raven’s incomprehensible ramblings, and even tolerated the company of the frikdreina Raven has as an assistant. Has to admit he enjoys spending time, just ‘hanging around’. Sometimes they even share a meal – Raven and him, not the frikdreina. The assistant eats with skaikur’s fox on the fringes of the gathering hall.

 Yesternight Clarke dragged him to a pretty pointless card game with skaikru’s young inner circle – he got to sit across from Raven and together they wiped the rest of skaikru out, it was amazing.

 “Yo! Roan!”

 The king does not flinch, but it’s a very close call. He turns, a cocky smile on his lips and his heart does that little thing it always does when he sees Raven, arms crossed and legs separated in a clear no-nonsense stance. “I need you to do some heavy lifting for me.”

 He has to squash the urge to grin like an idiot as he steps out of the sparring ring, falling easily in step with the mechanic. She’s so short, all hard lines of muscle among her well defined feminine curves. He has to admit he usually likes his women with a little more meat on their bones, but she’s still gorgeous.

 They don’t talk much – mostly because he seems unable to string words into comprehensible sentences when he’s around her, how pathetic is that? – but the silence is agreeable, companionable and not strained in the least.

When he notices her watching him out of the corner of her eye he has to fight down the urge to preen. He winks at her and she blushes, which has him in a good mood for the rest of the day.  

[surveys4ever]

6.

What’s the last vegetable you ate, and when did you eat it? I put red bell peppers in the breakfast burritos we had for dinner last night!

What was your last Facebook notification for? Someone requested to join a group I admin.

What bands have you seen live? Sadly I haven’t seen many bands live. Last ones I saw were Paramore and X Ambassadors!

Tell me an interesting fact about your mother: Ummm...she got weight loss surgery a few years ago.

What do you think is the most important thing to happen to you before the age of 13? My dad left and my mom remarried and had a bunch more kids she likes more than me.

What were you super against as a young child but aren’t anymore? Cheesecake, broccoli, water, atheists. Now cheesecake is my favorite, I love broccoli, water is the only thing I drink, and I AM an atheist.

What are your plans later today? I have to shower and make dinner. Other than that idk.

Are you doing anything exciting this weekend? Sadly probably not. Beebs works so I’m probably just gonna work on a sewing project or something.

Who do you talk to the most? My husband or our dog!

What are some things you do regularly that make you feel old? Go on TikTok.

Who is your best guy friend(s)? My husband!

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I’m good where I’m at!

If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? It depends on the scar and its placement. I’d probably get it removed tho.

Have you had an x-ray in the past year? Nope! Last one was in the 9th grade.

Do you think your first love still loves you? I’d sure hope so.

What is something that is “going right” in your life? We’re debt free for the first time since we got married, my husband is fixed, and we just finished getting a bunch of repairs done on our car!

When did you feel ready to start dating? I don’t think there was a moment I decided I was ready...it just happened!

When was the last time your pet bit you? If you don’t have a pet, have you ever been bitten by someone else’s? I mean...she’s never bitten me maliciously! Just playfully.

Where were you the last time you made out? In bed I believe.

When was the last time you cried tears of joy? When a company I’ve loved forever sent me a massive PR box with so much more than I could have ever expected. I sat on the kitchen floor and cried.

How do you type your sad smileys? :(

Do you have “decorative hand-towels” that cannot be used in your house? Nah!

What was the last soda you drank? I had a coke slushie earlier!

What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? I’m not sure! It was probably something silly my husband was teasing me for.

Have you ever had any type of surgery? No, thank god.

Should kids be allowed to get tattoos/piercings without parental consent? Yeah. It’s their body!

Who was the last person to hit on you? Some weirdo on the internet told me my bellybutton must smell like roses.

What was the last thing you decided not to do, that you were supposed to? Shower..oops.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell someone? I don’t know!

What do you put on hot dogs? Mayo, ketchup, mustard, and cheese.

Ever fallen in the shower? Slipped but not fallen!

Do you think that things will get better? I really hope so!

Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? Yup.

What’s your favourite book genre? I don’t know if I have one!

Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? I almost walked out of Toy Story 4 because the people behind us were so goddamn rude and their kid kept pulling my hair.

Do dogs like you? Oh hell yeah.

Would you say that you project an air of authority? Maybe? I’m a bossy Capricorn so I exude some level of leadership but I’m also not comfortable being in charge of anyone.

Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? Absolutely not.

Do you use one towel when you shower or two? Two! One for my hair and one for my body.

Have you ever been to one of the great lakes? Nope!

Who do you know that had a baby recently? Um! Lots of Facebook friends but no one personally.

Do you like Usher’s songs? Eh! They’re alright.

When was the last time you went to a waterpark? Oh god. Like 15 years ago.

Have you ever ridden a train? When I was a young tot, yes!

What do you eat your French fries with? Depends on the fry! Ranch is usually my favorite.

Do you have family problems? Hahahahaha....hahahaha...yes. So fucking many.

What’s the last food you ate that was stale? I don’t know? I don’t eat stale food very often.

How do you like your grilled cheese? Extra cheesy with tomato soup!

What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? Pasta aglio e olio!

What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? Spend time with my grandma!

Have you ever been close to drowning? Nope.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Ugh, many times. They are terrifying.

Do you like doing housework? Sometimes! Other times I’d rather do l i t e r a l l y anything else.

Would you ever get implants? I want a breast lift but I’m afraid to go under anesthesia.

Do you own a robe? A few, yeah!

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yup, but that’s none of your beeswax.

Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off? If it’s dominos, I just toss it but if it’s anything else, I’ll eat it!

What was the last song you listened to? I Don’t Wanna Wait by Paula Cole.

Have any of your family members been to jail? In laws, yes!

Is there anyone that you feel you still need some closure with? Yeah, sadly.

Can you remember when you first learned how to read? Yup! Kindergarten.

What event in your life has transformed your personality the most? Probably having to give up my childhood to be the big sister. I’m inherently motherly, I take care of everyone, but I have no desire to be a mother.

Have you ever had any teeth pulled? Just my wisdoms!

Do you still want to be what you wanted to be in elementary school? I wanted to be famous.

What’re some TV shows that you would like to get into? I feel like I watch all of the shows that interest me!

How would you feel if you were drafted for the military? Uh...no.

What is your favorite Queen song? Fat Bottomed Girls!

Do you know how to use any foreign currency? Well yeah but I mean...I’m not sure what there is to know about it? You go to the bank, exchange your money for the other money, and then spend it as you see fit. It’s a lot easier to just use your bank card tho.

Been kissed by someone who you knew was “bad” for you? Nope!

Ever taken an at-home pregnancy test? Yeahhhh, sadly. My period is a little bitch who likes to show up late a lot and I’m an anxious mess so I usually take tests to give me some peace of mind while I wait.

When was the last time you were at a loss of what to do? I’m never at a loss of what to do!

What did you do on your favorite date with a guy/girl? We went to a theme park! It was absolutely magical.

What’s a movie you have seen in the theater more than once? Inside out and Just Friends! We saw Inside Out by ourselves, with my husband’s best friend, and then with my family just because it was so fkn good. And then my best friend at the time was obsessed with Ryan Reynolds and saw it I think like 10 times by herself, 2 of which were with me.

What is the reason you’re still alive? My heart is still pumping?

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? I’ve had sex in my parents’ hotel room while they were down at the pool...sorry mom.

Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? I never brush my hair except for right after a shower. I have curly hair and brushing it is the literal worst thing you can do.

Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) I don’t believe so!

Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Yes and yes!

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? Bleary! My husband was calling me to wake me up.

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? I do, even when I don’t really want to.

Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Friends and family, yeah.

Would you date someone with a physical disability? I mean, I'm married, but in a theoretical world where I was single, that wouldn’t be something that would deter me if I loved someone.

Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? He has not!

The last time you dyed your hair, what color did you dye it? Purple! That was only like 2 weeks ago.

Think of the last time you went out to eat. Who paid? We did!

Do you save at least 15 percent of your income? 20%, actually!

Do you ever go on Reddit? If so, what are some of your favorite subreddits? I’ve only ever gone to Reddit because Google suggested it to me to answer a question I had.

Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? I was only 4 but I guess I was my mom’s maid of honor/flower girl at her wedding.

Are your parents in good health? My mom is but my dad has high cholesterol and bad back pain. Nothing super serious tho.

Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? Nope!

Is there any type of medicine you can’t take? For what reason? Not that I’m aware of but most medications have weird affects on me. NyQuil makes me hallucinate, Novocaine makes me loopy, and oui’d makes me see shit, so?

Do you have a favorite pair of pajamas? What do they look like? I really just wear a T-shirt and shorts to bed.

Do you have any interesting pillow cases? All my pillow cases rn are vintage and I love them!

If something on your body hurts, which part is it most likely to be? I just have really sensitive feet and every pair rubs them raw or causes blisters/bleeding so they usually hurt.

Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Spiders, definitely.

Have you ever worn fake nails? If so, what did the last pair you wore look like? I had acrylics for a year! I don’t remember the last set I had on tho.

Is Russian or Native American history more interesting to you? Native American.

[unlikelyanthology-blog]

Excerpt four.

“Make a wish, any wish,” Jess says and shoves the dandelion in my face.

A wish, if I could make one wish what would it be? There are many things I could wish for a lot of money, a boyfriend, more money, good grades.

“Let me hold on to that, and then make a wish. I can’t decide what I want to wish for,” I say and take the ugly flower from her hand.

Jess has always been like this, she loved pointless myths and stuff like that. Every time she saw a dandelion, even when we were kids she would pick it up and make a wish. She never told me her wishes, other than one time when she said she wished Mr. Thomas would give her an in history because she was his third cousin. In the end, she got a fifty and boy did she rip him apart at the family reunion that summer. This all happened in middle school, we are in grade eleven now, going into grade twelve and she is still making me go along with her mumbo jumbo.

“Sara! You always do this, just make a wish, come on, I know you have something to wish for,” she says and tugs my arm, making me walk faster.

“I wish that you wouldn’t rip my arm off actually,” I smirk at her as she rolls her eyes.

These types of things come so easy to her since she believes in skeptics like this. I don’t, and my grandmother always told me that skeptics were called skeptics for a reason. You aren’t supposed to believe in them, the odd times though was okay. Jess was so excited when she heard my grandmother say that, she used it against me every time she tried to get me to do something.

We continued to walk around the large park, the sun was setting. This was our favorite time of night to visit the park, even though we were sixteen, we loved coming to swing on the swings. Coming later at night meant no annoying, booger nose filled little kids. There was one kid, maybe about twelve that we ran into a little while back, he said that we needed a real man like him. What a kid. We sat down and slowly pushed ourselves back and forth.

“Aren’t you excited, Sar? We are going into grade twelve, we are finally getting our shit together. We are going to be going off to university, think about it. This time next year we’ll be getting packed to move into our dorms. I’ll be going to Queen’s and you’ll be going to wherever you decide to go. We’ll finally be in charge of our lives, we can do what we want, not what our parents want. And then we’ll finish, and I’ll be a leading physio-therapist with my own business and you’ll be running the business,” Jess said as she kicked her legs out. She got higher and higher on the swing.

Jess had money, so much money. We lived right beside each other our whole lives, grew up together. But we lived very different lives. My dad was a single dad, my mom left when I was five to marry some rich guy. My dad struggled to keep me in a loving home with food on the table and involved in sports; like a normal kid. I wasn’t a normal kid at all. I tried to help my dad the best I could, I started a paper route at ten years old and worked all summer mowing lawns in our neighborhood and taking dogs out for walks for various people in the neighborhood. Jess knew my financial struggles yet that never stopped her from building this fantasy life for us when we were older. The truth was I could never afford to go to school, not matter how much I saved, there was no way I could go. My mom never gave my dad anything and hasn’t contacted me in years. My dad tried to save for me but over the eleven years and a bit he has only been able to save 6000 dollars. Which isn’t enough to pay for tuition. It’s not his fault by any means and I don’t blame him, it’s just shitty. People who have money don’t understand what it’s like to have money. Weird right? It is at their disposal, so they don’t think about it. But when you don’t have money you have money cause you’re always saving and spending as little as possible. You work with what you have and save as much as possible. It is a complicated theory and I can’t explain how it exactly works, it hasn’t completely formed in my mind.

Jess snaps her fingers in my face, yelling at me for zoning out again. I do that often, usually I can pull myself out of it, but it is hard sometimes.

“Sara, seriously? I was trying to tell you about how my uncle Bob tried to fight my dad, and you zoned out and now I can’t remember where I was at in the story and oh! I remember okay, so my dad was barbequing, right? And my uncle was a bit tipsy and he was like, ‘Tim! Let me hit the barbie, I’m a real man, you’re just half of one.’ And you KNOW how my dad is with his hypermasculinity and what not. So, he yelled at him and was like oh Tim shut up, and blah blah blah,” She talks in a deeper voice to really exaggerate the situation. I laugh because I can picture her uncle Bob and her dad yelling at each other and having to get held back from one another.

“Uncle Bob comes to visit every once and a while. Every time he visits he always starts problems, he’s honestly just like my dad,” Jess wraps up the story and jumps off the swing, dusting her hands off on her black shorts.

Her mom and uncle Bob were from Australia, her mom moved here after meeting Jess’ father at Queens during her exchange program. They got married right after university and then had Jess shortly after. She looked like an Australian beauty, right out of the womb. She has long blonde bleachy waves and blue eyes to match, she got her tan skin from her mom. Jess has her dad’s build though, tall and slender. Her mom is short and stubby. Jess is a beautiful girl none the less. I’ve always been jealous of her, she had everything I wished to have. Two parents, a great family, money, and good attention from people.

When we first got to high-school, people tried to take Jess away from me, to separate us from each other. She never let that happen, me neither. We would never leave each other no matter what. Don’t get me wrong even though I wished I had the things Jess had, I was happy with what I had. My dad was the best one around and I was beautiful and did well in school. I even had my first kiss before Jess, not that that matters but I like to remember it.

“We should probably go home, I have work tomorrow at 8 am,” I say as I check my phone. My dad texted me three times, I opened the messages.

‘Hey kiddo, working an extra shift tonight, lock the doors.’

‘All good? You never messaged my message earlier. Text me back when you get this. Love u.’

‘Hey, I figured you were out with Jess. Okay, I texted her mom, she said you guys went for a walk. I’ll be home before you leave for work. Love u, lock the doors kiddo.’

My dad was a natural born worrier. After my mom left he became worse, always texting me asking where I was, what I was doing and who I was with. He let me go out though, he wanted me to experience what is was like to be a normal teenager and do stupid things. But with that meant texting him when I got there, throughout the night and when I was going to be home or where I would be staying for the night. Honestly, I think my dad was worried I was going to run away on him or leave like my mom did. I loved him too much to do that though. I answered with a love you too dad. He knew that I’d reply like that no matter what.

I said my final goodbyes to Jess and walk into my house. I locked the door behind me and let out a big sigh. My room was at the end of the hall, I flicked the light and looked at the mess the was on the floor.

“I should clean this up now,” I say to myself.

I cleaned the clothes from my floor, keeping my uniform out for tomorrow morning so I wouldn’t be stressed when looking for it. Good ol’ Walmart, or Wally-World as my dad called it.

***

“Will that be all for today, do you have any coupons you would like to use?” I ask my man in front of me. His three kids were running around and chasing after each other. He seemed very frazzled and stressed.

“I-I’m actually not done, my wife she’s just picking up from the makeup section she should be back in a second. Sorry, we never come to this Walmart and I think she got confused, I hope it’s okay. There isn’t anyone behind me anyways,” he smiled apologetically.

“It’s okay, I’m done after this transaction any ways,” I give him a warm smile and he relaxes.

I turn my head to see what I presume is his wife speed walking towards my lane, she’s short, middle-aged looking, younger than him though. She blinks at me and then speaks.

“Sorry, I-I got lost, here just this please,” she says and puts down the makeup products, I cash them through.

I feel this woman’s eyes on me, watching my every move. Maybe she’s high up in Walmart and is observing her employee’s costumer service skills under-cover. No, maybe she was just a weirdo with a staring problem, who knows? It’s starting to make me uncomfortable, I give her a small smile and she immediately stops staring. Strange.

“Your total is 159.65, will it be debit, credit or cash?” I ask. The man holds up his credit card.

This is a huge pet peeve of mine, cards look the same. I don’t understand how you can’t form a simple sentence, like what is wrong with some people.

“Have a good weekend,” He says and grabs the bags. His wife carries a few and gives on to each kid.

I have never been so thankful to be leaving work. Working Saturday mornings were the worst, I’d rather work the day before Halloween, which is saying something because it is so busy. I make my way to my locker and grab my stuff from it.

“Hey, how was your shift?” Jack, the newish stock boy asks.

Jack just started working here about two weeks ago or so, he is your typical teenage boy. He has blonde shaggy hair, brown eyes, tall and buff. He plays hockey for the local team and is the captain. I was surprised he had time for a job. Jack is popular around school, mostly because he’s already been drafted for some of the feeder teams for OHL teams. We never talk at school, for some reason he always wants to talk at work.

“It was okay, some lady kept staring at me though. It was kind of weird, anyway have a good shift,” I say and close my locker. I smile at him before leaving, I can feel his eyes on me as I leave the employee area.

Jess was supposed to pick me up today, but she forgot she already had plans with her brother and sister, they wanted to go to some water park that was two hours away. I was supposed to go but I didn’t have time to book it off. As the consequence, I have to wait for my dad to come at four-thirty or walk home. Walking home sounds awful but waiting an extra thirty minutes seemed awful too. Plus, my boss has this really weird policy that after your shift you are no longer allowed to stay in the employee section. Our store doesn’t have a McDonald’s or Tim’s so if you have to wait for a ride you have to wait outside.

‘Hey dad, going to walk home. Could probably use the exercise. LOL’

‘Perfect, was asked to stay until 7 anyways. Love u.’

‘love u too.’

It was hard having my dad work so much, but I knew he had to. There wasn’t an option. His work was always asking him to stay over everyone else. My dad has worked at the car repair for so long and they have been there for us through everything. I appreciate how the have helped my dad provide for me and for himself, I just wish I could spend more time with him.

***

“Just admit it, you like Jack,” Jess says as she picks out an outfit.

“Oh my, no. I’m just saying he’s weird at work. We talked for two weeks in grade nine, and now he always stares at me at work and tries to come to my lane. Stay in stock, boy,” I say and laugh, playing with the pillow she has on her bed.

Jess gives me one of her ‘oh sure’ looks. Truth is I don’t like Jack at all, yeah, we talked for two weeks in grade nine, but it was grade nine. It doesn’t even count, not at all. But to try to prove me wrong, try to prove my own feelings wrong Jess is dragging me to Jack’s brother’s friend’s party, a mouth-full or what? Jess is sort of friends with Jack, but best friends with his brother if you know what I mean.

“So, this or this?” She holds up two different options, I point to the one she was going to go with regardless. Black jeans and her white bodysuit, her classic party outfit and one of Jeremy’s favorite outfit on her.

“Good choice,” Jess winks. I roll my eyes at her, she was always going to go with that outfit anyways.

Jess had a lot of good things about her no doubt, but her fashion sense was fairly basic, and she knew that. Myself on my other hand, I was into fashion and trends. I followed them to the best of my ability and my bank accounts ability. Jess always came to me for help with fashion yet would end up not being comfortable with what I had picked out for her, and I understood that.

“Why are we going so early anyways?” I question as we get into our uber.

 “Jer, said that we should come over earlier to help set up some of the party stuff, I don’t know,” Jess tells me.

The driver is telling us how her friends and her would always go to house parties and that she was happy to see that they were still on. I laughed along with Jess, this was more than a house party, it was two house parties. There were college boys beside Jeremy and Jack and they always came together to see how big of a party they could have. I think the highest number of guests they’ve had was eight hundred. Crazy.

“Jesus buddy stay in your line!” The driver yells at a car beside us, they were coming way to close to the line that separated us and them.

I feel the car tip on my side, we flip over into the side of the highway, the car spinning around and around. I feel like the driver is saying a prayer and Jess is screaming out for Jeremy. I am silent. Every atom in my body is still.

***

When I wake up in the hospital room, I get up quickly and look around. I yell out for a nurse or a doctor, I see one come in, but it is like they are ignoring me. I am screaming now. I look at what the doctor is doing.

I see my body laying on the hospital bed. I look dead, but the monitor tells me I am alive. Jess and my dad are sitting next to me. My dad looks broken, lifeless while Jess is talking to my body about something that happened with Jeremy. I want to wake up and tell them I love them, but I don’t know how.

“My wish is that I’d wake up.” I say.