#twc blurbs

[therealslimshakespeare]

does Ida care about her hair and what happened to it? Is she pulling a Jo March and waiting to break down later when she’s alone over her hair because she doesn’t want to come off as shallow or vain? She’s on my mind too much 😭

I could and should’ve just answered this lovely ask straight up, with a yes and yes and yes and freely admit the Jo March comparison took me out and beat me up. However, brevity is not my strong suit so I wrote you a blurb as well:

Usual universe warnings apply

| | Showers

The shower room at the stalag was more than a little drafty. Worse than inside the combines with no dividing walls or body heat or the padding of blankets and cloth to make it insulated. Utilitarian, drafty and -once Cleven had shut the door behind him and left them alone- slightly ominous.

Or maybe that was just the mood, hanging about like a malevolent spirit, shining in late evening rays through the slit windows high above, altogether too wide a space and too bright a light for the awful task of stripping and washing and making an inventory of hurts like theirs.

Ida for her part would have rather done it at midnight by torch light, just enough visibility to wet her cloth and find the soap. She already knew -as much as she ever wanted to know- what had been done to her. It was over, and any lasting bruise and scar noticed and remarked on was like bringing it all back into the present. That’s something you did for nice memories, photographs of whoever was “home” stashed in a locket hung around Lemmon’s neck, homemade sticky smells wafting up from Croz’s footlocker -a last piece of melting fudge from the plate Jean had sent over. That’s the sort of talisman you kept around, rubbed at, sniffed, turned over in your mind again and again like a physical thing, like a Crucifix represented an all powerful, ephemeral, removed savior.

You didn’t rub your bruises if you wanted to forget them. You didn’t comment on your friend’s cuts if you wanted her to forget either.

Feeling this collective dread, they all just mulled around for a bit, flicking on faucets and drinking eagerly from the icy stream. Acting shy like they all hadn’t been showering together and living atop each other for ages. There was prevarication in the air and Ida knew she needed to put a stop to it, make an effort to lead, but she hardly wanted to see what was under her clothes herself.

In the end it was Tallulah -Lt. Smith- who took the first step back from the sinks and shucked her clothes with an impressive display of casualness. Knowing a thing or two about rhythm and the effectiveness of a slow, steady build, Ida pushed her own throbbing face out of the cooling stream and followed suit. Soon it caught on, each doing their damndest to be uncharacteristically discreet and efficient.

“Can’t undo these shit-ass buttons.” she heard Maureen hissing beside her while she was braving the shock of a frigid soaked cloth between her rawed legs.

Ida dropped the bloody rag in the sink and flung her hands out to disperse the extra drips. “Come here.” she muttered, eyes lowered on the offending buttons and Maureen’s poor, swollen hands that looked more like paws than the graceful, skilled instruments they’d once been at her bombsight in the nose of her plane. “I’ll do them till you get your fingers back. You might need one or two of them set, you know that? That middle one’s going in the wrong direction.”

“I thought it looked wacky.” Maureen agreed, holding it up for inspection. “Gale wouldn’t stop asking.” she went on.

Ida focused on sliping buttons through their holes and answered steadily as she could, “And he’s likely to keep asking.”

“Doesn’t he know.” Maureen whispered, suddenly sounding very hurt, confused, petulant even.

Ida paused with Maureen’s shirt undone, the dingy plain, military issued bra in view -Ida envied her the possession of it, she’d lost hers with her jacket somewhere along the way. “He knows.” She answered firmly, meeting Maureen’s eyes with assurance, “But he’ll likely keep asking.”

“He wouldn't answer about his face.” Maureen said, turning round and letting Ida help tug her arms out of the sleeves.

“I think you know what happened there.” Ida was implacable.

“But-“ Maureen bit her lip to keep from getting loud, “-but what else?” she threw at Ida over her shoulder, “Why? What else did they -why would they do that to him?”

“And now you know why he keeps asking what he already knows.” Ida pointed out, coming back to her front and bending to unlace Maureen’s boots. “They’re probably all standing out there asking each other the same. Doesn’t do anybody any good. The details. It’s the apple of knowledge, leads to nothing but a sick fascination with what hurts you.”

Maureen had always been a rambunctious, animated figure in Ida’s life. Her anger came easy and was obvious, as were her loves. And if something didn’t make sense to her she’d rail at it or about it until God answered. She had teased Ida and John about it, that if they’d just come over to the Protestant side, they’d have a direct line to god and a whole lot more fun. Ida didn’t care about doctrine or fun right now, she cared about Maureen not trying to make a philosophy out of what she’d endured, or rope-in Gale to mull it over until they both went nuts. Ida wasn’t going to order her not to talk about it, but she could hint that details would hurt Cleven more than help him.

Here and now at least.

Maybe there was some moment waiting for them after all this when things could be said, horrors swapped like every other hard memory told in the officer’s lounge.

For herself, Ida doubted that day would ever come.

“I think your head might need stitches.” Maureen said in lieu of a response, puffy sausage fingers running gently along Ida’s throbbing and freshly washed scalp. “You’ve got a big gash here. It’s still bleeding.”

Maybe it was the gravity of bending over to tug off Kendeigh’s boots but Ida suddenly felt a pooling in her eyes, stinging tears after hours of dried out watchfulness.

God! She’d been ready to die, to be put down with a bullet in the head like their family coonhound when he got rabies.

Not this, not that replaying memory of her face suffocated in the Kommandant’s thigh and the slicing pain of the shears that went on forever, the way the blood burned her eyes so badly when she stood back up, the way he dared call her ugly when she had spent hours before wishing those other men found her abhorrent. Ida’s eyes were burning again and three damning droplets fell to the dusty toe of Maureen’s boot.

Ida made certain to swipe her thumb over the evidence as she tugged it off. “Luckily my brother is good with needles.” she joked softly, rising and turning Kendeigh toward the sinks, “Those fingers are useless, Candy. I’ll wash your hair.”

💋Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[fs-lewisartistry]

These once incessant obsessions -

Suddenly fruitless.

Spoiled - rotten from maturity.

Suddenly listless.

- FS Lewis 6/9/23

[masonscig]

edith oshiro and sofía olmos by @kamboree

thank you so much to my lovely friend alicia @admdmrtn for commissioning this piece of our detectives for day 16 (dancing) of the @wayhavenmonthly challenge!

there was a post floating around that was asking for a fun fact about your detective and i’d offhandedly said that sofía took up pole dancing to build up her core strength since she’s very low combat – alicia surprised me with this beautiful piece and i cannot thank her for this gorgeous piece of edith and sofía hanging out !!!! 

[admdmrtn]

All he saw was red.

A drop of deep ruby, her presence immediately stains his everyday grey t-shirt, and no matter how abrasive he got, she just wouldn’t let go. Full-bodied, strong and just a little too astringent for his taste, she nonetheless offered the familiarity of home in the oaky finish of her well-balanced structure, and despite being adamant of her colour before, he soon craved more and more with every sip to subsist in the crimson that is she.

And oh, how she matured into his favourite wine.

An odd paradox, she satiates his chiliad thirst for intoxication where none before has ever come so close to succeeding and still, at the same time, in being inebriated of her burgundy, she fills him to the brim with absolutely nothing else but clarity. And so it seems for the very first time, he finally chances an out from the liminality of his cyclical orbit, so much so that he douses in no further hesitation his grey everyday in bottles and bottles of her mahogany.

All he ever wants to keep seeing is red.

•••

a huge thank you to @s-ewell​ for this brilliant commission!! i literally cannot tell you how much i love it, i’m seriously obsessed AHHHHHH

tag | @katbee @masonsfangs @agentsunshine @echohauville @vienocalledmebuddy @mrs-raleighcarrera (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list 💕)

[rimefucker]

winter UB blurbs 💙❄️

where M eats cigarettes for breakfast & hallmark movies are explained to N. kinda am sorry about it this is a whole mess but cozy up n read for me ok 🥺

🌲 mason/morgan

“i’m coooold.” 

they’re being domestic under their duvet - one brought with them out of bed and into your kitchen - with their hands anywhere and everywhere for warmth. on your shoulders, to your sides, and ontop of your stomach. fingers pressing into skin with their chin in the crook of your neck - watching you brew today’s breakfast. 

“i know,” you say, emptying out a sugar packet into your cup of coffee. they are cold. either its because the apartment’s damn heater gave out again or they’re not yet used to these wayhaven winters. either way, you let yourself be a furnace as they fumble for their morning fix. 

a certain clingy vampire follows you to the dining room table - with coffee for you, cigarettes for them - your cold morning becoming a little more calm. 

🏔️ adam/ava

what goes unsaid in this conversation is said through watery eyes, red noses, and chapped lips.

they insist now, more than ever, to walk you home in these wayhaven winters. something about the equinox and the sun or the moon and pitch-black afternoons. snow falls fast and frivolous around them, with you taking image of their strides through sleet. 

then they’re not on your side anymore. and you’re centimeters from cold cobblestone as they hold you under your arms, momentarily stunned from the sensation of falling on ice.

“you should be more careful.” they say, with pride on their reflexes. ignoring the direction and intimacy of their action, they bring you up by the waist. and you, wallowing in what that moment couldve been, continue on with them, the warehouse on the horizon. 

yet they keep an arm extended - between your back and the space of the cold night - incase you succumb to the snow again. 

🧣 farah/felix

supposedly there’s no such thing as the cold. only absence of heat.

you know you’ll feel it during your walk to work. when your hatchback refuses to start and your favorite jacket won’t cut it  — but for now you’re content with the soft kisses and sleepiness — the overall warmth  —  you feel with them beside you. and with you stirring from your slumber, they wake up too. 

“where are you going?” they sigh, swiping the sleep from their eyes..

“we’ve got work.” your hand is already cupping their jaw, thumb rolling across their cheekbone. their hand holds your own wrist steady, both sheepishly and sluggishly. 

their yellow eyes open  — yellow like the moon that’s still up early this morning — silently begging for five more minutes in bed.

and you turn back over, complying, settling in for a slow start to your day. taking in the heat of them before the cold. 

🧤 nate/nat 

cold cups of chai are between the both of you, on a table tucked away from rows of bookshelves and store-display windows. paper bags of old literature classics, once loved and ready to be loved again, sitting at their feet. 

“let me get this straight.” they say, “it’s the same plot, just reused over movies?” 

“mhmm. yeah. small city girl meets big city man. they hate eachother, start to come around, something happens, and then it ends with a mistletoe moneyshot.”

“do they ever write about a detective and a vampire?” it could very well be an honest question, knowing them, their disinterest in technology — including television  — getting the best of them. 

you laugh, heartily. a warm winter laugh saved for book store cafe dates with them. “no!” 

they shake their head, their brunette snow-flake ridden hair now out of their eyes. “i think i’ll stick with pride & prejudice.” 

[raartblog]

Tina and the Detective try to discover the secrets of love

[echohauville]

omg 7 ⛹️🏻‍♀️

hi miss chrisha 🕴🏻 ily!!

routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

-

Felix quietly closed the door to his room, not wanting to make too much noise in case anyone is nearby. He had been back from his patrol for about five minutes and was now on his way to spend the night with Catalina in her apartment. He would have stopped right after his patrol but Catalina had left her flower earrings in his room and he wanted to take them back.

“Agent Hauville?”

He let out a soft sigh at the sound of Agent Montiel’s voice, secretly hoping he wouldn’t need to work right now. It had been almost a full day since he had seen Catalina and he missed her.

“Agent Montiel, is there something you need?” He turned around finding Rebecca at the end of the hallway.

“Are you heading somewhere?” She wondered, her eyebrow raised bringing a change to her usually stoic face.

Felix broke into a grin, Agent Montiel was well aware of his and her daughters relationship. “I’m on my way to see Catalina.”

“I see,” she spoke seriously but there was an almost invisible smile on her lips. “Is she aware you are visiting her?”

“She is not, it’s kinda like a surprise.”

Agent Montiel hummed, “would you mind getting Agents Du Mortain and Sewell from the library before you go?”

It was only going to be a few minutes so agreed before taking off to the library. Arriving there quickly he pushed the door open, eager to get this done so he could be on his way to Catalina’s apartment. The smell of old book pages hit him as soon as he entered. Adam and Nate were sitting on couches near a bookcase but that wasn’t what got his attention.

Catalina was sitting there with Adam and Nate, her legs tucked underneath her as she focused on reading. A smile found its way to his face at the pure sight of her, suddenly very eager to tell Adam and Nate to leave so he could be alone with her.

As he got closer Adam and Nate looked up to see him but Catalina was too engulfed in her book to look up. He walked even closer and Catalina was still unaware of his presence. He smiled at the thought that he might be able to surprise her by being there.

Just as he stood next to her couch Catalina tilted her head to the side and presented her cheek to him without looking up her book. He was momentarily stunned by her movement before it dawned on him that she wanted a kiss.

Felix leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Catalina’s cheeks, his heart beating just a little bit faster when he watched her lips curved into a smile as he pulled away.

“Is there something wrong Felix or are you just here to see the detective?” Adam placed a bookmark on his current page before setting the book on the table.

“I sure hope it's the latter one,” Catalina said looking up from the book.

“Oh yes, Agent Montiel wants to speak to you, Alina being here was just a bonus.” Felix took a seat next to Catalina, she shifted her body so she could be closer to him.

Nate gave the couple a smile and turned to Adam who gave a nod. “Alright we will be back in a few.”

“Please take all the time you need.” Felix wrapped an arm around Catalina pulling her even closer if that was possible.

Adam and Nate disappeared behind the doors of the library.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Felix asked her, absentmindedly playing with the ends of her hair.

“I wanted to but Nate said we would get distracted,” Catalina laughed and closed her book, not caring if her page got lost and tossed it on the table.

“He ruins all our fun,” Felix groaned with a pout.

Catalina placed her hands shoulders as she moved to straddle him. “Well he is gone now.”

Felix bit his lip, his hands holding onto her waist. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he spoke in a teasing voice.“My my detective, are you saying you want me to distract you from work?”

“Mhm…” Catalina hummed placing her lips on his.

[itsivyberry]

number 1 supporter

Mako x f!nonbender!Reader

request: “how about a mako fic where him and reader are together during his pro bending era, so we just get supportive reader and a loyal & in love mako? haven't seen anyone write that yet and it's been stuck in my head forever”- @iamnowjared19

a/n: oooo super fun for my first Mako fic! It’ll be just a short little blurb, something to tide my followers over while twc is in the works. thank you for requesting!

warnings: nothing! fluff well actually like a little foreshadowing of Korra being a home wrecker but it’s fine I’m fine

summary: Y/N is the Fire Ferrets’ biggest supporter

word count: 351

~.•*✰

Watching pro-bending was probably Y/N’s favorite pastime. She loved seeing her boyfriend and his brother put all their hard work into each match. Easily Republic City’s Fire Ferrets number 1 fan.

Mako was just the best in Y/N’s eyes. She couldn’t quite put the emotion into words, how happy and free she felt whenever he was around.

~.•*✰

“Mako! Let’s go!” Bolin called from the street. Y/N was paying for their food from a stand. “We are going to be late to the match!”

“Bolin, it’s not for another two hours. We’re fine.” Mako said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m so excited for you guys to bend. The Ember Island Eel Hounds seem like they’ve had a rough season already, so I think you guys have a good chance.” Y/N nudged Mako a bit with her elbow, breaking off a piece of her food.

Mako loved Y/N’s enthusiasm about everything. He never got sick of her, even when she insisted on coming to each practice and each match. Being a non-bender, she always found herself gawking over her boyfriend’s ability to simply snap and conjure fire. You could practically see the sparkles and hearts in her eyes whenever she watched Mako bend. She was so, so, so in love with him.

“I think we’ll win too. You’re my good luck charm.” Mako said with a smile and a wink, nudging her back. Bolin made fake gagging sounds. He slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

“You really are our good luck charm. Too bad you’re dating my brother, can’t believe you’d go for someone like him.” Bolin sighed.

“Hey!” Mako protested, but Y/N was laughing.

“Okay, now let’s get to the arena. I want to watch you guys practice again.” Y/N finished her food, throwing it in a nearby trash can. She looped both her arms on through the boys’ on either side of her, marching bigger steps to show her excitement.

Mako couldn’t believe how lucky he had got with her. But oh, how he wouldn’t realize how much was about the change between the two lovebirds when Korra came to Republic City.

~•.*✰

a/n: not me low key making korra a home wrecker BYE LMAOOOO anyways hope you enjoyed!!! I’m so sorry this took forever I didn’t see it in my inbox then I checked and was like 🤭 but I hope you enjoyed <3

[therealslimshakespeare]

Thanks for the tag, sweet @softspeirs ! I’ve got way too many going but I stuck with the one Google docs said I had indeed touched last 🤓 no pressure tags: @blurredcolour @whirlpool-blogs @prompted-wordsmith

rules: share the last line you've written, then tag some people, and have fun.

Lu makes excellent time, however, and it is with a small twinge of guest-guilt that she wheels the car into his drive a good twenty minutes before their agreed on time. She supposed she could wait in the drive until he came home from work, enjoy the sunshine and windy coolness of a northern state in late August, she doesn’t know the town and she doesn’t feel like exploring.

The plan fails right away as upon turning into his drive she sees the garage is open, and having intruded this confidently so far, she shuts off the engine and steps out of the car right as Benny Demarco slithers his jean clad self out from under his pristine red corvette in absolute surprise.

Her first thought is how healthy he looks. Here in the fresh air, skin glowing and cheeks back to a healthy fullness, and it all contrasts so strongly to his state of undress, ratty shirt undone and a sweat soaked singlet— it’s entirely like the stalag and yet, it’s not. And Lu allows herself a self soothing catalog of the improvements peacetime has made in Captain Demarco.

[crvsh-culture]

i created this blog in june(?) and i genuinely can’t describe how accepted most of you have made me feel (coming from someone who has written for different fandoms.) the support isn’t something i expected, and while i’m horrible at reaching out to people, i still appreciate you all.

so, in no particular order, my appreciation:

@kingkassam i love moodboard, i don’t really know why, but they make me super happy to see for some reason. yours always have the best aesthetic about them. i was low key intimidated when you first popped up in my notifications, but quickly learned how great and supportive you were which is so appreciated. you have such a great vibe (:

@venueska so so sweet. i haven’t seen you write in a hot sec, but i’m 100% here to support if you start back (with absolutely no pressure, of course.) i constantly see people replying to really sweet asks/messages from you and that alone shows you’re such a nice person (:

@kittidot amazing person and wildly talented. i can’t even wrap my head around creating an interactive story that’s so beautifully done, but you pull it off with characters that are so intriguing and scenes that are so beautifully set- and i may or may not be attached to Aayush. plus the picrews you tag me in give instant serotonin, so never question if i will be annoyed by you tagging me in them because i absolutely will not (:

@bubblelaureno the very reason i have begun to take an interest in marisol, she’s such an interesting character. your writing is so perfectly done and you have such a nice grasp on how to write for marisol (:

@another-lottie-simp the biggest supporter of the survivor x litg headcanon that i can’t get out of my head. you make me want to write more of them (:

@ravenadottir as a henrik stan, your stories were some of the first i stumbled upon. and once i was there, i read pretty much everything by you. you also followed me very recently and i’ve never been more awed by something in my notifications (:

@lianalitg on the note of henrik, you feed into the henrik content that lacks in the fandom. your art is so amazing and your writing is just as good (:

@masonsfangs you were actually the very first litg blog that i followed- before this blog even existed. now that i’ve gotten into twc i can enjoy more of your content. your art is so stunning and your writing is at a level i aspire to achieve (:

@bubblybabynailpolish i always make sure to check the tags when you reblog because you’re just so freaking nice in them- or add an iconic rendition of Noah doing the WAP dance which is equally as enjoyable. plus i appreciate nothing more than continuous cursed posts (:

@smaiihands the talent- the hard work that has gotten you to this point to make beautiful art. it’s honestly amazing. i will wait as long as you need for the comic as well because i have not forgotten, and i will certainly still be there when you post it (:

@garyandhisnan you followed this blog in its very early stages and i can’t believe you’re still here to see my single brain cell working towards putting out posts. you also seem like such a nice person (:

@kiki-the-creator expanded upon one of my concepts (a couple swap that was stolen from Love Island UK) and honestly made it so much better. you’re a really great writer, and yeah, have a good day (:

@deuchess i thoroughly enjoy your random heacanons and all of your writing. plus your art is so so nice (:

@ariendiel so supportive !! and your writing is truly amazing. you’re a very big reason that i like noah as much as i do, you very much do him justice (:

@mchamster we’ve never really interacted, but you seem really nice and funny, and yeah, have a good day (:

@lahelakoh i followed your old blog and instantly noticed when you were no longer active on it, so i’m glad this blog popped up in recommended. your blurbs and characters as quotes are always so accurate and such a delight to read (:

@therealityofthematteris a fellow nicky stan! you have such a grasp on the characters that you write, everything seems so fluid and in character. you’re also a really nice person which adds to the appreciation (:

@ajs-wife i constantly see you on my dash and you seem really cool. so, hi, have a good day (:

@bellarxse you’re a really great writer, and i’m now into twc so i’m looking forwards to reading more of you work now that i’ll understand it (:

@spicysriracha you’ve moved away from litg, but i’m pretty sure you’re a corpse fan, so i automatically support you. i don’t know much about tlou, but you seem super nice (:

@beebips you’re not really active as of late, but i really enjoy the mob story and everything you post. hope you’re doing okay (:

[jaykirkwood13-blog]

Im better than you people

At least that’s what I thought almost 25 years ago when I started my career in law enforcement working in downtown Toronto.

Quickly into my career I decided to turn my perspective around and try to help the weak, alcoholic, substance users and vulnerable people in the communities I worked

It was well into my career when ptsd, depression and alcoholism started taking over my life.

To be honest I never thought that I had ptsd. In the line of work Myself and a lot of my friends are in, you have to put on your game face as do so many of my coworkers. Laugh at things that are actually sad. Stay strong no matter the fear you may have. Kids from the streets that I use to play basketball with or buy ice cream for began dying. Be it to substance use or gang life. PTSD isn’t for our line of work. It’s for soldiers. Or so I thought.

Whether it was the ptsd or depression that led me to alcoholism-addiction or the other way around. I’ll never know.

Beginning of last year I was at a local convenience store in uniform near a community where I was working. When I went into the store I saw a homeless man, whom I knew from the community. I used the bank machine and quickly took the 160 dollars out and left the store.

A few minutes later he was chasing me down the road. I stopped and he asked me how much money I took out. I told him after hesitation. He then asked me to count it. I did and found I was 40 dollars short. The man held up his two hands with 20 in each and gave me back the money.

I was astounded that this man who lived in our stairwells, addicted to heroin and fentanyl who had nothing but hustling to make money returned mine.

I wrote a small blurb about it on Facebook and told him I did. He asked me to tag him so his mom didn’t think he was such a bad guy.

About a month goes by and he adds me on Facebook, I tag him, and my messenger on Facebook explodes from his friends and family including his mother who thought he was dead after not hearing from him for two years.

She flew from Cape Breton to Toronto and began her hunt for her son. She looked all day with no luck then by some miracle, he walked past her on the street and said “hey I know you, your my mom”

She cleaned him up and sent him to Together We Can in Vancouver where he got sober and is still sober over a year.

Meanwhile I was struggling with my own issues and burning my life to the ground. I found I became addicted to addiction long before I became an addict\alcoholic.

I was unable to keep myself sober. I tried my hardest. My family and friends couldn’t help me. No matter how hard I had tried the alcoholism had taken over. I isolated myself from my kids and my remarkable wife (whom Im still ashamed to talk to). I lost almost everything Finally when I hit my bottom I reached out to the “once upon a time” homeless man, as well as the people I had met through him including members of TWC (Together We Can).

They had me here within 2 days.

I’m clean and sober today. TWC is now a group of my brothers and sisters

YOU PEOPLE are now MY PEOPLE... all people are my people

FULL CIRCLE

Jay

[babycracker]

wip fucking sunday bc i’m so damn late wednesday

jfc i’ve fallen SO far behind. just ignore me for the next half hour or so while i catch up on everything.

thank you @vintage-vamp @amlovelies and @kelseaaa for the tags, i’m so sorry it’s taken me so long. have some zoe/adam angst. these two (and sometimes nate) are my first go at writing something really truly hurtful so i’m still feeling my way through it, but this is for a prompt that will hopefully be up in the next day or so and i’m really happy with how it’s turning out so far!

But as it is she heard all of it, and is leaving the building as fast as she can without breaking into a run. Head down, eyes blurry and stomach churning, she only hopes that she's not about to run into something.

Or someone.

She doesn't even need to look up to know that the solid mass she's just collided with is Adam. So she doesn't. She keeps her head down and silently wills him away.

"Detective."

Dammit, it hasn't worked.

"Zoe," her name this time, but harsher. A gruff attempt to get her attention. A request that she has no intention of giving in to.

not gonna tag anyone bc i’m so bloody late, but if you wanna get in on it do it anyway and tag me!

[i-am-very-very-tired]

Angelina Jolie has cowritten a book with Geraldine Van Bueren QC and Amnesty International. Know Your Rights and Claim Them: A Guide For Youth “details the rights promised in the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, starting with the history of child rights, and providing a clear description of the types of child rights, the young activists from around the world who fought to defend them, and how readers can stand up for their own rights”. It has been blurbed by Malala Yousafzai and Greta Thunberg, two young leaders who know a thing or two about rights, even in the face of those who insisted they were too young to claim them.

In support of the book, Angelina covers The Guardian Weekend, giving her most candid interview in years, and since the book is about children’s rights, the purpose of the book dovetails with her children’s experience. Which, inevitably, leads back to her contentious and ongoing custody case with Brad Pitt.

Angelina explains that for 20 years through her work with the UNHCR and Amnesty, she’s met so many children who “live with the effect of their rights being violated” and “then I had an experience in the States with my own children”. From there, while she cannot discuss her legal situation in detail, she confirms non-verbally again that there was abuse, that she did “fear for the safety of her children”.

This is not new. Nearly five years ago, Angelina filed for divorce from Brad Pitt after an incident on a plane. It has never been made public what exactly happened on the flight but it reportedly involved Brad and Maddox, who was 15 years old at the time. An investigation ensued, and Brad was cleared of criminal wrongdoing, but there’s so much more to abuse and abusive behaviour than what meets the criminal standard. Whatever went down permanently broke the family and, as Angelina tells the Guardian, “I’m not the kind of person who makes decisions like the decisions I had to make lightly. It took a lot for me to be in a position where I felt I had to separate from the father of my children.”

And the “a lot” part of it suggests that while the plane incident wasn’t isolated. Later in the interview, she describes it as an entire decade:

“While refusing to discuss details about her divorce, [Jolie] has said that the experience has been traumatic and has left her feeling “broken”. What have the past five years taken out of her? There is a long pause. She cups her face in her hands, and looks ready to burst into tears. “I mean, in some ways it’s been the last decade. There’s a lot I can’t say,” she repeats. “I think at the end of the day, even if you and a few people you love are the only people who know the truth of your life, what you fight for, or what you sacrifice, or what you’ve suffered, you come to be at peace with that, regardless of everything going on around you.”

Brad and Angelina separated in 2016. Needless to say, problems were building in the five years preceding that. Some of which she alludes to, specifically when talking about Harvey Weinstein, who comes up when she’s asked when she first stood up for herself in Hollywood. Harvey Weinstein is currently in prison, a convicted rapist, and he’s denying the allegations from his jail cell in the most Weinstein way possible – by accusing her of using him to sell books, like Angelina Jolie would have to namecheck Harvey f-cking Weinstein to get her books sold, lol, and also by suggesting that since she’s so beautiful, like, what else does she expect?!

As gross as that is, it’s also the patriarchy, and toxic masculinity. And, devastatingly, enough people buy Harvey’s brand of f-cksh-t rationalisation because, ultimately, the way the system has been set up over centuries, women are not to be trusted. She was assaulted – and it’s being brushed off by her assailant: she’s so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself…so I tried to help myself.

We don’t have to spend any more time confirming what almost a hundred women and so many more witnesses have already confirmed – Harvey Weinstein is a predator. So… why did Angelina’s husband, Brad Pitt, continue working with him, knowing how she felt, to the point where she refused to attend promotional events for Weinstein projects. And remember, back in the time of Brange, they were always a team when it came to press and marketing. With a few exceptions. Clearly Weinstein was one of them.

“Sources close to Brad” tell TMZ, the website that often feels like it’s the voice of the men’s rights movement, that “he never "teamed up" with Weinstein for "Inglourious Basterds" -- he was simply part of a movie that Tarantino directed, which happened to get distributed by TWC.”

In the Guardian interview, though, Angelina mentions another film, Killing Them Softly, that Brad produced and that he approached The Weinstein Company to distribute. The “sources close to Brad” make no mention of that to TMZ. Because, well, those are the facts.

The Weinstein problem, however, was clearly one of many between Brange that resulted in her leaving the marriage and it may have been surmountable as a standalone if not for whatever problematic behaviour he was allegedly exhibiting within the family. Angelina through their custody case is advocating for the right of her children to be able to voice their concerns. Three of the six Jolie-Pitt kids reportedly want to testify, and the judge who was recently disqualified shut down that request.

And so her purpose for writing the book is directly related to her personal situation. The United States has not ratified the rights of the child:

“Discovering that the convention on the rights of the child has not been ratified by the US has given her a sense of purpose: rather than simply fighting for her children, she can see it as a bigger human rights cause. She is trying to put a positive spin on her situation. “It has been so horrific that I almost have to see it as a godsend to be in a position to be able to fight this system. It doesn’t start with the violation [the plane incident]. It’s so much more complicated than that.” She says the lack of ratification has had a significant impact on her battle: “My 17-year-old, for example, has been denied a voice in court.” She is referring her to their son, Pax, apparently one of the three children who would like the opportunity to speak about his family situation and is being told he cannot.

That may change since an appellate court found in Angelina’s favour that the judge had a conflict of interest but just last week, Brad’s legal team appealed to the California Supreme Court to contest that ruling. Interestingly that piece of information dropped just a couple of days before this Guardian interview – and Brad was contacted by the journalist for comment on some of Angelina’s remarks. So he and his reps would have known, ahead of time, that this was coming. Let’s not be so naïve to think that he wouldn’t have been strategising a counter to her claims.

And he certainly has the power to do so. Not unlike Jon Voight, Angelina’s father, who comes up in conversation here, particularly when she talks about her mother not having a voice in comparison to the big Hollywood actor she was married to:

“I realised when I was young, the person who had a public voice had more power than the very kind, decent woman at home doing all the right things and making all the sacrifices.”

Angelina obviously has considerably much more influence than her mother, and yet, even Angelina Jolie has been side-eyed, her motivations doubted, in an industry and a society that is still set up to benefit straight white men.

[echohauville]

pls tell me more about random scenes that probably won’t make it to transcend 😸

hi chrisha!!

its exactly what it sounds like lol i have a few scenes written (mostly catalina and felix being cute) that dont really have a place in transcend but i feel like take place along that timeline!!

here is some of it lol

That was all Catalina knew every time she was around Felix. He had an aura that just made her feel completely at peace, like nothing was wrong in the world. As he laid his head on her legs after coming home and told her about his day his calm essence engulfed her pushing aside all the worries she had. All she could feel was him.

Minutes went by, Felix’s voice voice the only thing she focused on, drawing the biggest smile on her face as it always did.

Her hands settled on his cheek, caressing him absentmindedly as he spoke. He went quiet for a second and leaned into her hand, his eyes closing as he seemed to take a moment to feel her soft touch.

[itsivyberry]

MASTERLIST + general info

last updated: October 3, 2021

last blurb night link July 2020

fic recommendation list

taglists

2020 top 10

personal favs: ✰

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Peter Parker

Wounded - one shot

Friendship Bracelets - one shot

The Grieving Process - series <-postponed indefinitely

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Draco Malfoy

all the things I love about you - oneshot ✰

triwizard champion - series <- completed ✰

after the war - blurb continuing twc series

sparkling pink pepper - request ✰

green with envy - blurb night request

baby girl headcanons - blurb night request

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Ron Weasley

euphrosyne - blurb night request

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Fred Weasley

striped sweaters - a short story

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Zuko

nostalgia - blurb night request

the library - blurb night request

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Aang (aged up)

coming soon!!

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Sokka

cold hands headcanons - blurb night request

always forever - request ✰

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Mako

number 1 supporter - request

no longer his - request (part 2 to “number 1 supporter”)

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Bolin

coming soon!!

🌩🌩🌩🌩🌩

Timothée Chalamet

Bad Day - request

[therealslimshakespeare]

grim reader here!! I’d personally like to see some of the scenes where Ida THINKS she’s ready for intimacy and it devolves into panic or whatever bc I think it’s formative to how they approach things in the future :) you know; the angst stuff haha

Nine times Ida Rosenthal thought she was ready, and the one time she really was —

coming to a bookstore near you!

Ok, I’m joking because I’ve not even written it out yet however, this is exactly how I imagine it, and I think each of those non instances are huge, crucial to their growth and going to be amazing to explore.

Literally I wanna have a set number, and each is a vignette of its own. I just need to plot out what those scenarios are.

Because there is so much before the sex.

NSFW BELOW:

There’s the lost art of necking which they reinvent, the first few times she turns into his touch in her sleep, it’s waking up to him warm and hard and not feeling a jolt of terror, it’s stumbling into him in the shower when he’s otherwise occupied, it’s kissing gone so intense on the couch they fall to the rug before the hearth and she thinks in a wine daze that she’s ready -she’s not. It’s holidays with her folks and Johnny and his new wifey breaking the bed upstairs and Ida getting genuinely miffed by the sounds of it that her brother bounced back so easily from all his fuckery and, in a competitive lurch, she climbs into Rosie’s lap and must be lawyerly dissuaded from competitive intimacy. It’s allllll the little gestures of romance and kindness beforehand, it’s Rosie helping her study for the bar once she chooses to leave the Air Force, it’s him helping her with the homework and his rewards get more and more tantalizing until she learns what that man’s hands can do -so much for all those protestations about not playing a instrument, Mr. Rosenthal. It’s the first time Ida asks him in the morning not to take care of things in the shower but to stay abed, to show her, teach her even. She wants to watch him, hear him, learn him. It’s her learning to associate sounds of male pleasure with a good thing, with Robert’s raw adoration and ecstasy as her hand grows more firm and her thumb clever.

It’s the first time she manages to put him fully in, after he’d just spent in her hand. There’s nothing much to be done then, just hold each other and process their oneness until he shrinks and slips out. It’s something though.

It’s all these things.