#very attentive‚ he notices things. I have a hard time verbally articulating things at the best of times and he picked up on it and we

[e-6000]

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[coldtomyflash]

I've seen your speech pattern analysis on Flash characters. I was wondering if you had any advice on how to create speech patterns for OC characters?

oh heck this is one of the coolest questions i’ve ever received.

i’m gonna try not to go overboard/overwhelming and just give a bit of advice, and then if you want more details please come back and follow up!

There’s a few things to think about up front with character voices / speech patterns. The biggest and most obvious is language and cultural background. The second is personality. The third is personal history. Fourth, briefly, is gender. And the final one I’d say is idiosyncrasies to avoid ‘same voice’.

Culture and Group Dynamics

Depending on the setting, there’s a decent chance you’ll be writing characters from different cultural backgrounds. Even if you’re focusing on a single culture, there will be subcultures. Even if you’re focusing on a single narrow group of people, there will be age and generational differences.

Think about where your character is from. If it’s a fantasy world, that’s still (and even more, in some ways) important. What country, what ethnicity, what mother tongue? Did they grow up urban or rural? High socio-economic status or working class? What sort of educational background and peer group did they have growing up (and presently) and how does that factor into their vocabulary and mannerisms, if at all.

All of these can influence how people talk. There are regional accents and different modes of speaking to signal your group membership. There is code-switching across groups, for those who have had to learn multiple linguistics codes to survive and thrive in society. 

How much slang does this group and therefor this character use? What references (modern, outddated, topical, etc) do the rely on? What kind of references (pop culture, music, academic, etc)? What colloquialisms and proverbs do they say? Are these the same or different to their characters, even within the same culture, subculture, or group, and is it because they’re from a different place/sub-group or because of their idiosyncrasies?

You can use these to help your reader get to know more about your character’s background without having to spell it all out directly. Speech patterns and style are a great way to show instead of tell when it comes to details that are hard to drop in organically in other ways.

An important caveat: don’t write a bilingual character who switches languages in speech unless you’re ready to do a bit of research on that. In AATJS I did an absolutely horrific job of this because I was thinking more about fronting the fact that character was Italian rather than thinking through how people actually talk, and it came out exotifying and embarrassing. It’s important to make sure that the way you use language to bring in a character’s cultural and/or ethnic background feels authentic and manifests is a way that respects that language and its users. You can write a character with a complex cultural history without using multiple languages if you’re unprepared to do research and talk to bilingual speakers.

Personality

Probably the most salient thing in a writer’s mind when they’re trying to write character voices: is this the funny character? the serious one? the brainy one? etc.

Don’t overuse stereotypes and archetypes for creating speech patterns (or characters in general) if you’re trying to make a rounded, 3-dimensional character. Instead, go about three levels deeper.

Think about whether they’re introverted or extraverted, whether they are neurotypical or neurodivergent, whether they are introspective enough to express their own emotions clearly or whether they stumble when asked why they did a particular thing or feel a particular way (most people don’t or can’t clearly articulate exactly why they did something or how they feel, and come at things a bit sideways to circle around their motives and interior realities when pressed to make them external and concretely verbal).

Is this character calm, is their voice soothing, do they speak slowly? Are they excitable and loud and is their speech free-flowing? Are they angry? Do they swear? Do they use references for humour or are they more into puns? Do they laugh at their own jokes? Do they talk with their hands?

This character has social anxiety: how does that manifest in her speech? Does she clam up and get very quiet when she gets nervous, or does she go rapidfire and a little too loud (does she process by turning in or by distracting herself by turning outward)? Does she get very careful and deliberate in choosing her words (is she a bit high-strung?)? Ask yourself which fits best with the other elements of her personality and what you want the reader to know/interpret about her. 

This character is incredibly smart and a bit awkward: how does that manifest in their speech? Do they tend to use 5-dollar words, or do they expend a lot of energy choosing their words more carefully (how considerate are they to their audience when speaking and does that influence their speech)? Do they stumble over their words and explaining things, or are they good at making points with clear language learned from a lifetime of tutoring and helping others?

This character is the bff, who tries hard to make sure everyone else is happy first: how does that manifest in his speech? How does he switch between his happy-mask versus his more authentic self, and what changes in tone, word-choice, and inflection come in when he does?

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Personal History

I’m only drawing a distinction between this and personality (archetype, really) so that I can draw attention to ways to add simultaneously unique and shared layers to characters that are distinct but related to group dynamics.

Here’s sort of what I mean: the level of education of a mother (or primary caregiver) of an infant can determine that infant’s vocabulary size. While we can break down all the ‘why is that’ layers to this, the one I want to point is to the simple truth that the more education a person does, the more specialized language they end up learning over time. This doesn’t have to be formal education though -- the more you learn about something and the more you read and access new knowledges and perspective, the more and more words you learn, and then if you start using those words, they trickle down to those close to you.

So.

What’s your character’s educational background? Is it the same as their friends who you are also writing? Is the same as their family’s? How does this character’s family influence their speech? Are they formal, informal, warm, authoritative? 

If you’re writing siblings, they’ll have some shared things! But also some very different ones! Me and my sister talk nothing alike in terms of vocabulary, but a lot alike in terms of mannerisms whenever we spend a bit of time together!

If your characters grew up around each other, they’ll have a lot of the same references. People from the same cities or regions will have things specific to that region, either due to sub-culture effects or because of local references. 

The city of Calgary, Canada for instance has the Plus15 which are a connected pedway system between the buildings in downtown, so named because they are 15feet above the ground. Drive 3 hours north to the city of Edmonton, and you have an underground pedway just called the pedways, no special name. Go a few provinces east to Toronto and their underground pedway system downtown is called PATH. These are all known to locals and part of the vernacular, but are opaque to people outside those cities. And the whole idea of them is probably opaque to people who aren’t from super cold cities that don’t require building-connecting pedway systems for pedestrians to get around high-density areas like downtown (or university campuses) without going out into the cold. 

Friends, families, and groups are like that too. In-jokes, shared histories, speaking in references. What are your characters’ relationships to each other and how does that history influence the way they approach talking to each other?

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Gender

I don’t want to spend too much time on this one because ugh, gender. What even is it?

But like it or not, it has an impact on our speech patterns. There are cultural and societal norms in how men and women are likely to speak, and breaking those norms will be noticed regardless of whether you’re trans, enby, queer, or not. There are norms that people who are queer may fall into as well, sometimes without even noticing at first. A lot of these aren’t about word choice per se but instead about mannerisms and tone and body language, but some overlap or are specific to language.

Speaking in broad generalizations here, women use more emotional language and tend to speak with more hesitancies/qualifications. So more “i think, i feel” and less “it is”. More conversations that front emotions and dig deeper into those, with longer sentences to explain in detail. The obvious caveat is that personality matters more (i.e., is this a person who likes to talk about their emotions in detail or not) but it is something to consider because there will be general but subtle differences that you can use to help further distinguish your characters’ voices. 

Sidenote: this can also be exacerbated by different cultural backgrounds and languages (a simple example is Japanese which has different words for “I” depending on your gender as well as your personality, familiarity with the other persons in the conversation, and situational appropriateness, so interesting ways that gender and social expectations intersect in language).

Anyway this isn’t typically a huge problem except that I’ve found that a lot of writers have a tendency to overgeneralize the speech patterns that fit with their ascribed gender due to early-life socialization, or conversely to overgeneralize patterns that fit with their gender identity (when not cis) either due to heavily identifying with their gender identity’s speech model (or sometimes possibly due to a knee-jerk sort of backlash). I say this as an enby who both struggles with it and notices it and tries to edit and correct for it. 

I could get into all sorts of examples of ways this can lead to voice issues, but in general i think the point here is to make sure you’re writing any given character in view of that character’s personality and history, with gender only as a modifier for how some of these might come out in subtle ways but which can be important to help tell us about your character (and if you’re writing queer characters, it’s all the more important to consider how their relationship with gender and socialization might impact which speech models and styles they identify more with).

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Idiosyncrasies

So, you’ve got a character. You’ve got their personality and history down. You know how they manifest in their speech. And you’re still getting some ‘same voice’ issues.

People really are unique snowflakes. Let that be reflected in their speech.

This person uses contractions differently than that one. This one says “ain’t” and that one says “isn’t.”

This person makes Simpsons references and that one doesn’t like Simpsons, and makes Brooklyn Nine Nine references instead. That other one doesn’t use referential humour much at all. This one loves old movies and hasn’t seen any of the new stuff so they make references all the time but no one ever notices.

This one loves the word “excoriate” and that one doesn’t even know what it means because what the hell, who uses the word excoriate?

This one talks about food a lot, it overlaps with their interests. This one uses metaphors. This one grunts in response. This one exclaims. This one says “like” and that one hates it. That one refers to themselves in third person. This other one uses reflective language an usual amount (e.g., “love me some candy”). This other one keeps misusing the word inconceivable and that one speaks almost without contractions but still comes off as more charming and humorous while correcting him.

I have an aunt who says “girl” or “girlfriend” a fuck-ton and she has been my whole life and I don’t know why because none of her sisters do, but she does and it annoys me so much the way she says it. I swear a lot when I’m feeling casual despite never ever doing it in a professional or even slightly-less-than-relaxed space, so the idiosyncrasy of comfort levels has a massive impact on my vocabulary in ways which, I promise, almost no one who meets me first in a professional space expect.

Let your characters be individuals and try to make them as unique as possible without overdoing it, or over-relying on a single verbal tendency or habit. 

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And ... that’s all I’ve got for now. Completely failed at being concise. I meant to give like 2-3 bullet points or examples for each, not paragraphs, but here we are. That’s one of my verbal tendencies: long flowing verbosity :)

Hope this helps! 

[ephemerlskies]

the beauty of after | pjm

⇢ pairing: jimin x f reader

[other members - taehyung]

⇢ genre: drabble, fluff, widower!jimin, angst (barely), artist!taehyung, the FLUFFIEST piece i've written so far, jimin is an old man

⇢ word count: 3.5k

⇢ warnings: themes of grief/loss, major character death (oc), mentions of death

⇢ summary: on your seventieth wedding anniversary, jimin celebrates in solitude by describing your face to an artist. it surfaces more fondness than grief to reminisce in the memory of his late partner.

♪ playlist: serendipity - bts • i'll never love again - lady gaga • lover - taylor swift • love of my life - queen • my everything - ariana grande ♪

[important] a/n: i am so so sorry to everyone for constantly reposting this, but my tags haven't been working. hopefully this is the last time i have to repost this!! also HAPPY PRIDE!

“Thanks for doing this for me.” The young artist had already begun mixing paints on his palette, eyeing the canvas before him to scale the size of his portrait.

Jimin was gentle with the way his eyes traveled along Taehyung’s face which was free from the age wrinkles that Jimin had grown used to seeing. He nodded as to say your welcome, a jaded but genuine smile reaching his lips to the ends of his face.

It was difficult to gauge which one was more nervous from how Taehyung had nearly knocked over his easel various times within the stretch of setting up his supplies and the lack of stillness that fraught Jimin’s hands which were trying, and failing, to fold politely in his lap.

“This is for an art project? For school?” Jimin asked, deciding that half-empty questions fit better in the air than the awkward silence funded by the lack of proper acquaintance. Not to say he wasn’t indeed curious about this whole ordeal.

“Yeah. My professor wanted us to have someone describe their significant other to us and we have to draw them based on the description! I hope I do your partner justice.” Jimin’s heart grew warmer when the enthusiasm from Taehyung’s voice made his intentions clear. He was an aspiring artist simply using his craft to procure something emotional and raw.

Jimin was the fortunate soul Taehyung had stumbled upon during his walk home. A single, elderly man sitting on a park bench, an appropriate setting for someone Jimin’s age, had aroused some curiosity in the younger man to strike up a conversation.

The slightly hung head, the pair of kind eyes trailing the various passersby, and the astounding hint of melancholy had colored Jimin in an entirely different light than anyone Taehyung had ever met.

Whatever his story was, Taehyung made it a goal to depict it with every bit of honesty and emotion he could engender from his paintbrush.

“I think it would be hard to make anything of ___ look bad." Jimin assured, feeling his shoulders fall away from his ears and his hands finally rest atop his lap.

“___? Is that her name?” Taehyung repeated it internally a few more times in an attempt to imagine what you looked like before Jimin started on his description.

He looked over to the older man, picturing an older woman sitting beside him on that park bench. His mind meandered to what kinds of things you two would talk about, or if you two were the type to construct a haven in sweet silence. Maybe Jimin would say something that would make you laugh and you would join in on the repartee with ease.

What made you laugh? How many times have you been on a plane? Did you like the color yellow? What was your favorite genre of music? What made you cry?

The questions began to bundle like a colorful bouquet of diverse flowers, waiting to be delivered into the hands of a loved one.

“Yes. Beautiful right?” Jimin’s smile faded a bit, the only evidence of it expressed through a slight curve sitting at the ends of his mouth and the crow’s feet incising his skin much more prominently than the rest of his wrinkles.

“Very beautiful.” Taehyung decided to arm himself with one of his finer brushes. He could already feel the unwavering desire to capture the most intricate of details partly for a good grade in this class but partly for the sake of keeping true to his word.

He wanted to do you and Jimin justice. To make this nothing but ornately accurate.

“How would you describe her facial structure?” The artist positioned his arm with his brush in hand, ready to dispatch the ink amassing at the tip of the synthetic hairs to the white, empty canvas.

“Soft. Perfect to fit into my hands.” Jimin stared down to the mentioned body parts, reminiscing the countless times he would scoop your face between his palms for no reason at all other than to revere your beauty. “Round cheeks. Smooth and warm skin.”

Taehyung couldn’t resist how the pang in his heart reflexively surfaced a fond smile in reaction to Jimin’s endearing description. He peeked away from the canvas before making any initial marks and gathered the loving gaze Jimin had been directing towards his matured hands cupped around the empty space that should have been your face. Then, he knew exactly which set of emotions he should embed into this portrait.

“What about her eyes, what do they look like?” Taehyung asked to acquire another image of how he should paint you, while already outlining the basic curves of a head that would quote unquote fit perfectly in Jimin's hands.

“They were kind. They always had this sparkle in it. A real sparkle, like she trapped the moonlight in her eyes.” Suddenly, Jimin's lungs were not merely occupied with air, but with an oxygenated memorial of your eyes which made his inhalations feel weighted. “They were bright and always looked at me with trust and care. Even when they had tears in them, you could have mistaken those for diamonds.”

The image was stark in his own eyes, and if he closed them then he could have been transported back seventy years to when your wedding vows were announced to the world. How your eyes looked at him and glimmered an overwhelming beauty that nearly evaporated the over-rehearsed words from his memory. Before you could roll those moonlit pupils at his fall to silence, he hastily declared the oaths that bound his heart to yours forever as if he couldn’t stand a second longer keeping those promises in.

“Were?” Taehyung articulated thoughtfully as he could with clear indication to question the past tense manner of Jimin’s narrative.

“Yeah. She has passed.” It was still difficult to feel those words ordered as such verbalized by his tongue. They tasted bitter and stale, as if they had been waiting somewhere inside to be recognized.

He wasn't aware of how his hand was now placed against his chest until he felt the heavy throbs of his tired organ. Through this, it might be that he was searching for your heartbeat that he could once identify through the his own.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Sir.” Taehyung’s hand almost fell away from the canvas, until reality restored his maneuvers and continued the lining of your face.

His focus was oscillating from the mostly white canvas, save for the thin strokes of black, to the man uncoated from his reserve through the smile that deepened the indentations of his face.

“Jimin. Call me Jimin.” He said, breaking whatever ice that froze the two of them in discomfort. That nervousness had melted away with the minutes until they both felt warm and comfortable.

“Okay, Jimin, could you describe anything else about her? It doesn’t have to be physical. This is more about emotion.” Taehyung’s brush had been hard at work, dutifully printing every hint of love that Jimin relayed and materializing it onto the portrait.

“Her smile was warm. The biggest one you would ever see. I swear, everyone she met noticed it. It was genuine. It was the smile of someone who never had mal intent and always ready to share her happiness to all those around her. Seeing it every day, it reminded me that, with her, I was always home.”

From the day he met you, eye contact was a difficult task to compass since your smile had always demanded his full attention. Each time you flashed your grin, he felt as if it was purposeful, the extension of your joy onto him. The way you made him feel every bit of bliss you felt because you were the type to believe everyone, especially Jimin, deserved to feel happy.

And each time he was endowed witness to your smile, it articulated his goal in life quite clearly: molding his actions into a kindle for your smile and doing everything in his humble power to cherish those angelic beams of joy.

“Whenever she would smile, your day would get a little bit better. And I was lucky enough to spend most of my life with her, so my days always got better. She always smiled. Like she knew how much it meant to me.”

“Sounds like ___ was very happy.” Taehyung said during the interval of giving shape to your lips. What remained on the canvas was the widest smile Taehyung could craft, knowing it was not nearly as big as the one Jimin described.

“She was. She was sad too, and angry. You did not want to see her angry, let me tell you.” A chuckle had fallen from his mouth as he postured the memory of your scowl to the forefront of his recollection. How you would equip this number when Jimin would do something particularly dumb, or when your kids were being scolded for reasons that didn’t seem as important now.

There was nothing that compared to how you could emote with your entire face in a poise that suggested your feelings willed your every movement. How you would scrunch your nose and your eyebrows would reach the middle of the space between them; the frown of your lips would pull your entire face lower. He would take your anger seriously at the time, but in retrospect, he would give anything to see that disgruntled expression again.

And he would simply smile, and perhaps snap a photo for a keepsake.

“I hope she was happy most of all. That’s all that matters, Taehyung. Make the ones you love happy. I hope I did that well enough.” Jimin began to question if he made you happy. One day, when he joined your parted soul, he would find that out for himself.

He knew beyond doubt that you had accomplished sparking joy into people's lives simply by being you.

“I will. That’s good advice, Jimin.” Taehyung made himself present in his wonders about you, despite how he was absent from your life.

From the way Jimin described you, he fully understood that Jimin wasn't speaking from the functions of a brain. The portion of his mind that conducted speech could have been rejected entirely. These words, the thoughtful description, the sentiment flowing from his voice were sourced straight from the heart.

One that felt incomplete without its other half.

“Do you miss her?” He had to inject a bit of courage in this question in the hopes it wouldn’t be overstepping any boundaries. Though, Jimin was ever so gentle with the way he moved through life and met Taehyung's requests with kindness so far.

“Very much.” A stout crack fissured through Jimin’s voice and prompted him to swallow down the sob ruminating in his throat. “I miss her more than anything in the world. More than the flowers miss the spring and wait for winter to pass so they may bloom again. These days, I’m just waiting for spring.”

Jimin had intertwined his hands together, pretending it could fill the hollow space of his palms just as well as your hands would. He knew though, this was an emptiness that would always remain unfulfilled the minute your heart stopped beating with his.

“It will come. Soon enough. She’s waiting for you too, I’m sure.” And your flower will bloom. Taehyung created the contours of your eyes and paid a sizable amount of attention to depicting that highly emphasized sparkle.

What would a painting of you be without those acclaimed glints of moonlight floating in your irises? It wouldn’t be a painting of you at all.

“Do you have a special someone in your life right now?” Jimin took over the role of the questioner and placed Taehyung in the position of the questionee. It was enough for now to repair his composure.

“Not at the moment, no.” The majority of his focus was fixed on the painting but spared just enough to answer Jimin’s inquiry.

“Well, whenever you find them, I hope you appreciate the small things. I never knew how much the small things mattered until ___ was gone. Like how she notoriously had every barista put extra cinnamon on her coffee drinks. When I would forget to add it, she would pretend to be mad at me. She'd roll her eyes and tell me I’m ‘losing it’ or she would say something dramatic like ‘what has this world come to, Park Jimin?’” His pause filtered the room with a peaceful property.

Jimin utilized the silence to ponder the moments he once hadn’t given as much as a second thought to. The same moments that would entrap him in a catatonic gaze on rainy days or during cold, lonely nights.

“She would still drink the whole thing, though. She was kind in that way. Never really letting those things go unappreciated.” His eyes fell to the floor, though he was not seeing the weathered carpet spread across the substructure. He saw none other than your eyes.

The moonlight he had the privilege of viewing up close and personal, and uncrowned the orbiting rock in the sky of its esteemed title.

“Now every time I see cinnamon, I think of her. Of her peculiar love of it and even though she loved cinnamon so much, she’d love the effort I put in even more. She always loved me generously.” There had been friction within Jimin’s throat that made it warm and swollen ever since he started talking about you. His words dislodged through labored projections, but his voice overtly strewn hints of sorrowful longing in each statement.

“She sounds very loving. I can’t imagine how lucky it was that you met her.” Though his eyes were trained on pressing the delicate illustrations of your face onto the canvas, his ears were employed in listening intently to Jimin.

He had no idea who you were, however, he was sure he too would have fallen in love. Of course, anyone would have done so through the perception of someone who had devoted his entire heart and life to loving you.

“How long were you two together?” He asked to obtain an addition to his bouquet of knowledge about you.

“We were married for seventy years but we dated for three years before that.” Jimin’s eyes were not alone anymore.

They loaded quite a collection of tears, barely keeping at the bay of his eyes, and the vision of your face when he proposed that the two of you should seal your love through something as trivial as a diamond ring.

It was irrational, not only the fact that pricey luxuries such as rings were well beyond his budget. Jimin knew that embellishing a silver band on your finger would not be enough to earn a lasting relationship or settle your commitment to him. A piece of jewelry could not entail the immense love harbored in his chest. The proposal wasn’t the end of a happy story, rather the beginning of a lifetime to learn and unlearn the elements of loving you.

Even the bumps in the road, knocking him or you away from each other, were never enough to conclusively sever the connection. Dedication and work knotted your heartstrings together. The biggest bump, your death, was the final blow that nearly disentangled them.

Nearly. But when Jimin said ‘until death do us part’ he never realized that vow held some false hope. Of course, he wouldn’t let you go, or rather he couldn’t let you go, even after you passed away. It wasn’t that easy when his heart synchronized with yours the moment he fell in love with you and he already decided to become someone who was worthy of loving you.

Now he was that man. Someone who matched the degree of kindness you always provided him. The man who would disregard any prior engagements if you called and needed him, rest assured you would do the same for him. The man who proudly held your hand, knowing the world envied him. The same man that was cultivated through growing beside someone that cared for every part of him, down to her last breath.

In that way, death was never a contender to part him from you.

“Wow.” Taehyung was not sure of how else to elaborate how genuinely impressed he was. “What's the secret? How did you manage to stay together for seventy years? I mean, people these days get divorces like it’s a quit button you can press when you get tired of playing the game.”

Jimin, despite the teary glaze over his eyes, pulled a laugh from his throat. Without warning, he fell into the trench of all the long-forgotten fights bred from pettiness or misunderstanding. Many of them were over financial or familial issues. And with the lens of a seventy-year perspective, Jimin traded shallow grudges for an important realization that certain things remain standing after the dust settles.

“We would fight. A lot, actually. Even in those perfect relationships, people always fight. But I remember now, if it were a fight over money or anything else that was expendable, there wasn’t a question in my mind of which to choose. Between the world and ___, I always choose her. I always choose love. It’s more important than anything because when you truly love someone, you want to understand them. You want to work through problems instead of leaving them to pile up and collect dust.”

Jimin’s eyes now settled on Taehyung, who had already been staring at Jimin, then continued with all the sincerity he could deploy.

“Taehyung, always choose them. Choose love. I know I did and I have no regrets. I know if I chose to stay angry at her, I would be wrestling to forgive myself.”

Taehyung’s face muscles felt tired, his smile’s permanence hadn’t allowed for them to rest.

“Anger, annoyance, frustration, jealousy? Those all fade away. In a week or a month, you’ll stop being angry at some point, but you will never stop being in love. So choose love. It’s a permanent fixture in your heart.”

Taehyung set his brush down, and the picture resting on the easel was completed and then some. He didn’t mind. Taehyung truly enjoyed the sentiments Jimin kindly shared with him, as it would have been far duller to paint in silence.

Not to mention, he discovered a love story that went untold by movies and fairytales. It was a true love story. Something so real, Taehyung fell in love just by capturing Jimin’s tale and translating it into visual art.

Because this image of you was what Jimin saw when he pictured you. The picture of you shrouded in abundance by the highest grade of love.

“I’m finished, would you like to see?” Taehyung lifted the canvas from its resting spot, turning it slowly since Jimin’s nod was geared with apprehension.

Jimin’s heart nearly bore a hole through his chest, and it would fall out to where you were resting. He was afraid of facing you, or any rendition of your face, since it would be the first time in two months that his eyes beheld anything resembling his late wife.

When the canvas turned, so did the final page of the story. The story Jimin had been purposefully writing with long-winded prose and repetitive words to stall the commencement of it. He wasn’t ready to let go, that is until his eyes beheld the painting which etched fruition of something that felt further from him than you.

Closure.

“It’s beautiful.” Jimin’s tears were disobediently running down his cheeks. “It looks exactly like her. My love. My ___.”

It was not simply a painting garnished under the guise of an academic assignment, but an ode to the grand love Jimin had carried in his heart for seventy years and counting.

“I’ll be sure to send it to you after it’s graded.” Taehyung declared in a decided manner, now fighting back tears of his own, though it was a losing battle since he already felt the empathetic stains wetting his face.

“Thank you.” Jimin whispered soft enough that Taehyung barely caught it, but loud enough that his gratitude glazed the painting with its finishing touch: acceptance.

Now it was time to let go.

“___.” He said once more.

Jimin realized what could emerge even after your physical existence had run dry. That, even though you were no longer alive, there was a ceaseless supply of lessons Jimin still learned from loving you. He learned he could guiltlessly reflect over the years and memories. Resonating the most with him were the ones he spent choosing something more powerful and decisive and resilient above all else. Choosing love.

It colored his world into something vibrant and enchanting. There was still an unquantifiable amount of love pouring from his chest without a hint of diminishing. It was a force that stretched its reign beyond graves and long, lonely years of mourning. This love was alive, and breathing joy into Jimin’s life. It would continue breathing joy into Taehyung’s life as well as the painting, marred with your semblance.

He also realized you can never fully fall out of love. Just as pain never departs, and one simply learns to live with it, to become stronger and versed in the realm of sorrow, one never falls out of love, you simply learn to live without them; you learn to trudge on without the deity that derived something as powerful as love through the biggest smiles, the glistening eyes, the heaps of cinnamon, the unremitting kindness, and the perpetual act of choosing love.

And that the beauty of loving you was no more breathtaking than the beauty of after you.

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Evil New Year’s Resolution

Happy New Year Eve everyone!

~

One would think given how often Peach had been the target of various evil schemes in the past her castle would have better security. To be fair, those schemes had been from people who were alive but there were ways to keep the dead out and E. Gadd, the expert and inventor for many such ways, was an ally of hers so one would think she’d cover all her bases just in case. But whatever, King Boo wasn’t going to question his good fortune.

Finding Peach’s room took almost no time at all; it was extravagant as expected from a princess’ room and very pink. Not the only colour in the room but its presence far outweighed any other to the point of being borderline annoying. At least it was neat and tidy so King Boo wouldn’t have to wait around whilst surrounded by a mess. Waiting at all sucked but he couldn’t risk having his ploy discovered especially so early. So with a sigh, he settled down to wait in the corner.

He was in luck though; it wasn’t even quite half an hour before Peach came into the room. “Yes, good night to you too Toadsworth,” she was saying over her shoulder as she stepped in. There was a reply but it was inaudible from King Boo’s position in the far corner.

After closing the door, Peach turned and flounced further into the room, completely oblivious to King Boo’s presence for now. She went straight to her vanity dresser. Standing before it, she should be able to see his reflection in the mirror as he slid into position behind her. … She let out a gasp. Before she could scream or even start to turn around to face him, he pulled on his magic and the magic he’d stored in his crown to force his soul into her body.

 -

After a few brief moments of mostly nothing he was suddenly quite uncomfortable. The floor was too solid beneath him as gravity pushed him down onto it. Peach’s heart beat in her chest rhythmically as her lungs instinctively worked to pull in air and then expel. He could stop both processes if he wanted to and he kind of did because it was a rather unpleasant sensation after going so long without experiencing it that he’d forgotten it but inhabiting a rotting corpse would render his plan nigh on impossible so he’d just have to deal with it.

Peach was confused, she had no idea what happened; he could feel her emotions and thoughts brush against him, stronger now that he was paying attention to her. A spike of fear ran through her as he sat up and pulled her hands into to look at them as he flexed them. He’d forgotten what having hands was like too – not that he needed them when he could use magic for everything.

Hello princess. He thought at her with a chuckle.

She gasped again as her fear spiked higher immediately followed by righteous anger. ‘King Boo! What do you want? And… what’s happening?’

You’re my meat puppet now and you’re going to help me get some vengeance.

Oh, she was very frightened now and even if she wasn’t his true target it was still quite nice. ‘Mario will save me.’ Some of her fear melted away at her confidence in that statement. That just couldn’t do.

Yeah, sure because he’s done such a good job defeating me before.

‘Luigi then. He’ll beat you up like he always does you dumb giant marshmallow!’

King Boo growled; how dare she call him a marshmallow? Not this time because I have you. Meaning nothing could be done to him without hurting Peach which neither Mario or Luigi would do willingly.

‘Fuck you!’

King Boo ignored her this time. Instead, he stood up. It proved to be harder than it seemed; he had to contend with gravity and legs were far more unstable than just being able to float was. He took one step and… lost his precarious balance, landing on Peach’s face.

‘Ha! You can’t even walk, how pathetic.’

He growled both internally and externally. You can’t fly, that’s far more pathetic. Legs were an inferior way of getting around and he hated them already. But he needed to get used to using them again before the New Year’s Eve party tomorrow night. So, determined to ensure his plan would be perfect, he stood up again. All he needed was a little practice walking and all would be good.

New Year’s Eve

King Boo looked into the mirror, ensuring the hair dye hadn’t been bleached away by his magic yet and that the contacts were still in place. Neither was an exact match for Peach hair and eye colour but it was close enough that the dim lighting of the party should obscure it enough to make it hard to notice. Disguising his crown had proven to be far harder so instead he’d rendered it invisible.

‘Mario’s not going to be fooled by you,” Peach cut in, more angry now than afraid. ‘Neither will…’

He growled at her, drowning out the rest of that thought. It had only been a day and he was already sick and tired of her. He could block out her thoughts and emotions fairly well but whenever she wanted to say something to him it was a lot harder to not hear it.

But at least he looked the part of the princess, mostly anyway. Her one pair of non-heeled shoes didn’t match the fancy gown – which like her normal dresses was too pink for his tastes – but there was no way he was wearing heels of any height. They made the whole balancing thing even more of a chore. So, doing his best to ignore Peach and her angry nagging, he left her room and started for the main hall.

“Everything’s all set and ready to go,” Toadsworth said as she strode in. And truly everything was set and ready to go; snack and drink tables flanked the hall, balloons covered the ceiling, and the big clock with the ‘Happy New Year’ banner had been centered against the wall on one side of the room.

“Thank you,” he said with a forced smile, doing his best to imitate Peach’s speech pattern. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you too Princess!” he replied seemingly totally fooled. Which frustrated Peach while making King Boo quite proud. Now all he had to do was fool Mario and Luigi, how hard could that be?

 -

As predicted Mario and Luigi were among the first guests to arrive – Gooigi for some reason wasn’t with them, basically sealing King Boo’s victory here because they were the only one who might be able to detect him. They both wore dresses; Mario red and Luigi green. Which was a surprise, he’d never seen them dress that way before, but honestly a pleasant one; it would make them look better once in their portraits.

The look Mario gave him as they exchanged New Year’s greetings and well wishes made him want to gag. But he was a decent actor when he really tried and showed no outward sign of disgust. Nor did he react to Peach’s anger and frantic futile attempts to wrest control back from him.

All he had to do was keep that act up for a handful of hours until midnight. Purely for the drama of it, he was going to make his move at the exact start of the new year.

***

Something had seemed off the moment Luigi had stepped into the main hall of Peach’s castle. What it might be, he couldn’t say to save his life but something wasn’t right. He’d been sure it was his imagination as there wasn’t anything visually off but as midnight crept ever closer he was more and more convinced that that wasn’t the case. But what was it?

If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was ghosts but last he’d checked the castle wasn’t haunted. If only he had Gooigi or Polterpup with him to know for sure though, but Polterpup didn’t do well at parties, especially fancy ones such this, and Gooigi was helping E. Gadd with an experiment; when asked they’d said they preferred to miss the party to continue with that.

“Peach is acting a bit off,” Mario said when Luigi finally broke down and asked him if he sensed anything strange.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asked because he hadn’t noticed that. To be fair, he didn’t know Peach nearly as well as Mario and wasn’t spending as much time with her tonight.

“I don’t know just… not quite right. She seems excited though, I think. Which is probably good, right?”

Hmmm… maybe she was finally thinking of making a move on Mario. It’d be about time if so, the way they danced around their feelings for each other had been going on for quite a while now and thus they needed to just get it over with already and talk about it. But then again maybe it had something to do with whatever Luigi was feeling. What could the correlation be though?

“But uh… why are you asking?” Mario continued. “Is something bothering you?”

“Uh… yeah. I don’t know what though just… something’s not right.” And he hated that he couldn’t articulate what.

“Well, last time you felt this way it was at the Last Resort Hotel and we brushed it off and that ended up being a mistake. So maybe it’s ghosts again?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Or maybe you’re just anxious about the new year?”

“Yeah, maybe. … Probably.” He’d certainly gotten that way about things before.

“Well if anything happens, I got your back. I’m going to go chat with Peach again, see if I can’t figure out what’s up with her. See you later.” He gave Luigi a slight tap on the shoulder with his fist before heading off.

***

As was standard for fancy New Year parties, people paid more and more attention to the clock as midnight approached. What they didn’t know was that more and more boos crept into the hall too, eager to witness the grand finale or to assist King Boo if he needed them. He didn’t think he would though.

At a minute to midnight, he had everyone living facing the clock. He stood behind them on a raised dais, ostensibly ready to lead the verbal countdown to the new year. What he was really doing though was prepping the portrait. It wasn’t a large party but there were still a substantial number of people, sucking that many people up into a portrait all at once would be a bit difficult but it could be done if the portrait was big enough and the pull of his magic into it was strong enough.

The countdown started soon after he’d magically stretched the portrait to the right size. “Ten… nine…” he said in unison with everyone else as he channeled his magic through the portrait, opening it up to suck people in. “…eight… seven… six…” If anyone noticed the soft purple glow coming the portrait and turned around to investigate, his plan might be in trouble. “…five… four…” Intoxicated and engrossed in the clock, no one did though. “… three… two…”

On “one,” Mario, standing a short distance away, glanced back. The fondness in his expression immediately morphed into fear and surprise. All he had time for was a gasp as the clock struck midnight a second later and King Boo snapped the giant portrait down onto everyone, sucking them all up into it.

Maniacal boo laughter filled the hall instead of the cheer that normally would’ve gone up. Trapped in his body, Peach cried and flung anger and despair at King Boo which only made him laugh harder. Ah, victory at last was so, so sweet.

With a chuckle, he levitated the portrait off the floor leaned it against the wall. With loud cheers and laughter, the boos gathered closer to admire it alongside him.

As was the way with such portraits, everyone trapped within it faced outwards, the expression on their face the same as the moment the painting had lowered onto the. It was mostly Toads, though several friends of the Mushroom Kingdom were here too, including a handful of Yoshis. And there was Mario, the only one with a scared expression which was wonderful. … But as King Boo’s eyes continued to rove the canvas, it became more and more obvious that something, no someone was missing.

“Where’s Luigi?” one of the boos pipped up because well, Luigi was nowhere to be seen on the canvas.

***

Cowering behind a pillar, Luigi flinched at the sound of his name. Overwhelmed by the feeling of something being wrong, he’d snuck out to get some fresh air. He’d returned just in time to see the portrait slam down on everyone, trapping them all within it.

“I don’t know.” It was physically Peach’s voice but the anger and hatred in it wasn’t Peach. Luigi had a not so sneaking suspicion as to who might actually be speaking. “Find him.”

Luigi clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent a fearful whimper from escaping. … He had to do something though. Mario had been captured again, alongside everyone else at the party and… poor Peach was possessed. So, before his hiding spot could be discovered, he gathered up the skirts of his dress in one hand so he wouldn’t trip and hurried back to the rear exit. It led out to the castle courtyard so he’d still be trapped but it was better than staying in here with no ghost hunting equipment.

Once outside, he hid behind a bush and pulled out his phone. … E. Gadd picked up on the third ring.

“Happy New Year sonny,” he said, jovial as ever as if he hadn’t let King Boo escape again. Unless he didn’t know but how likely was that?

“King Boo’s here!” Luigi spoke in a frantic whisper in case any boos had ventured into the courtyard.

“Oh! Hold on a sec… good news Gooigi, Luigi found King Boo.” If Gooigi replied, their answer wasn’t audible over the phone. “What’s the situation?” E. Gadd asked, speaking directly into the phone once more.

“He’s trapped Mario and everyone else in a big portrait and uh… he’s possessing Peach.”

“Oh! Hmmm… sounds like quite the predicament. Possessing Peach is definitely going to make dealing with him a bit harder, huh?”

“Yes but… why didn’t you tell me he’d escaped again?” Luigi had a right to know that kind of thing, didn’t he? He was King Boo’s primary target after all.

“Because I figured you’d probably be mad at me. Also, I thought with Gooigi’s help I could find and recapture him before he made another move. We’ve been looking all over for him.” Ah, so that was the secret ‘experiment’ they’d been working on. “Oh well, at least we found him. I’ll be over with Gooigi and the portable lab in no time. Oh also, I made some more improvements to the Poltergust, this’ll be the perfect opportunity to test them. Hang tight until I get there.” With that, he hung up, leaving Luigi on his own.

Assuming he was at his lab, it would take him about an hour to drive all the way down here. Meaning Luigi had to survive being hunted by a hoard of boos and King Boo himself for a whole hour before he could fight back. … He should’ve at least brought the Poltergust’s flashlight, huh? Too late now though, he’d just have to do his best and hope E. Gadd and Gooigi arrived before it was too late. … What an awful way to start the New Year. On the bright side, assuming they all got out of this, things could only get better from here, right?

[harlot-of-oblivion]

🔎OC Questionnaire: Mirabella🔎

a.k.a. The Detective Reader from The Devil’s In The Details series

Full name

Mirabella Merritt

Preferred name/nickname

Mira, Honey (even though she acts like she hates it)

Generally referred to as

Honeybee, Quickdraw, Hothead, Ice Bitch

Appearance

FACECLAIM: Here’s a portrait I made using Artbreeder: 

SEX: Female

HEIGHT: 5’5

WEIGHT: Lightweight 

BUILD: She got some muscle in her arms and legs from her defensive training and she stays in shape with some workouts at the local gym and nightly dancing at the local cantina. 

HAIR: long, soft, and honey blond. Her hair comes down just past her shoulders. She wears it in either a high ponytail or a perfect bun while working. It’s usually worn down or in a loose and messy ponytail at home. She usually curls it a little and either leaves it down or pinning it up with some flashy hair pins before going out for a night of dancing. 

SKIN: White. Smooth and soft with some rough areas around her scars and calloused hands.  

EYES: Honey brown like fine whiskey. They’re always sharp and focused while working a case behind her glasses. They light up like a wildfire when she’s angry and full of emotion. Long eyelashes.

MOUTH: Small mouth with thin lips. Slightly crooked teeth lightly stained with coffee.

NOSE: Little, rounded, and a bit crooked on the bridge. Small but cavernous nostrils.  

HANDS: Small with trimmed fingernails with the occasional manicure if she plans on dancing that night. A little calloused from training and drawing but otherwise smooth and soft. 

FEET: Small and narrow. Well trimmed nails that she paints before a night of dancing. A little rough from all the dancing in heels, but the occasional pedicure makes them soft and smooth. 

SCARS: One small round scar on her thigh from a stray bullet. One large burn scar on her chest and partly over her left breast with a couple other smaller scars. 

CLOTHES: A mix of business casual and sultry nightlife. Her work wardrobe mostly consists of suits, jeans, and riding jackets. She has a collection of backless evening dresses comfortable enough to dance in with a lot of high heels. There’s also quite a bit of leather, knee high boots, and concealed corsets and harnesses for her knives and guns.

OTHER NOTABLE FEATURES: She has a beauty mark just above and to the right of her chin.

Speech

VOICECLAIM: To be determined.

ACCENT: Neutral city accent.

VERBAL TICS: She will sometimes stumble over their words if back into a verbal corner.

LANGUAGE: Fluent in English and Spanish.

ARTICULATION: She is very good at explaining things; straight to the point, sometimes stubbornly so with a few curse words.

EDUCATION: She doesn’t mince words and gets straight to the point.

LAUGHTER: Her laugh is deep and hearty, but not many have heard it since she rarely laughs.

GRUMP: She’s a really grumpy gal! Grumbling, sneering, grunting...she’s done it all!

BREATHING: She humphs, scoffs, and huffs a lot when she’s annoyed.

Mannerisms

FACE: She has a stoic face most of the time, especially when she’s working. But she’s really expressive when annoyed or enraged.

HANDS: She pushes her glasses up her nose and twirls her drawing pencil a lot.

LEGS/FEET: She jiggles her leg a lot when in deep thought.

EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: She’s a bit of a hothead, so she’s definitely prone to some angry outbursts every now and then. Lots of yelling and shaking when she’s mad. 

HABITS: She dances to music while she cooks. She also fiddles with her drawing pencil and glasses a lot.

POSTURE: Very good posture, straight and to attention even when she’s not working. She tends to slump around when she’s really sad though.

WALKING POSTURE: She has a very confident stride at all times, but tends to get stompy when she’s angry.

SITTING POSTURE: She crosses her legs a lot while sitting and doesn’t slouch unless she’s digging into a very big meal. 

PERSONAL SPACE: She maintains a personal bubble for the most part, but she has been known to get into someone’s face during one of her tirades. She gets annoyed when people invade her own personal space, but doesn’t make a deal unless threatened. 

SPACIAL AWARENESS: She’s been trained to notice even the littlest of details, so it’s very rare for her to be clumsy and trip over things. 

OTHER: She always has to have a few hidden knives on her person at all times.

Health

DIET: She either eats a lot of junk food or nothing at all...there is no in between. Her favorite foods are spicy chicken wings, chilli dogs, pancakes, and belgian waffles. There are times that she forgets to eat while working on a case.  

SLEEP: She has an erratic sleep schedule. Some days, she’ll stay up really late and only get a few hours of sleep before work while on other days she passes out super early on the couch. She pulls a lot of all nighters if she’s working on a difficult case. Doesn’t dream much, but she does suffer from the occasional nightmare of past traumatic events such as her father’s death and a scaring case from her past.

EXERCISE: She works out at the local gym and at home, but her favorite form of exercise is dancing on the weekends.

ACTIVITY: She’s a hard worker...sometimes too hard. She’s been known to work herself into exhaustion on occasion. 

CLEANLINESS: She bathes regularly, showers in the morning and hot baths at night if she needs to relax. She takes special care of her feet and hair.

ODOUR: She has a nontypical feminie scent. Cool, herby, and slightly smoky.

MEDICINAL DRUGS: Birth control for her cycle.

NARCOTICS: No.

ADDICTIONS: No.

ILLNESS: No.

INJURIES: The scar on her chest still feels like it burns every now and then, but she thinks that’s all in her head. But she has noticed that it tends to get itchy around demons.

PARASITES: No.

OTHER: She’s a bit farsighted, hence the need for glasses whenever she wants to draw.

Personal

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT: She’s definitely more of an introvert, but she’s very outgoing with people she’s familiar with and has no qualms yelling when angered. 

OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: She’s more a pessimist with a dash of optimism when things go right.

GENDER: Female.

SEXUALITY: The gender and/or sex of a potential partner doesn’t really matter to her as long as they have the backbone to stand their ground around her. She can’t stand pushovers even though she’s more dominant in the bedroom. She finds it highly attractive if a partner can challenge her in some way, but if they turn manipulative she’s very quick to leave them in the dust.

ROMANTIC: She thinks that all romance is just a farce to get laid, but she secretly wonders how it would feel to be romanced. She has a weakness for any show of compassion, especially towards her since she scares away most people from getting closer to her. 

MEMORY: She has an excellent memory thanks to her training as a detective. She can recall a lot of obscure details off the top of her head such as restaurant menus, city streets, and defining features.

PLANNING: She’s very good at planning, very meticulous and contingencies are made for many possibilities. But sometimes the best laid plans fall apart, which is why she’s also a quick thinker and has been known to keep cool under pressure.  

PENSIVE: She spends a lot of time thinking about many things: her life, past actions, problems, and cases to solve. A lot of her ruminations happen while she’s drawing or driving on her motorcycle.

INTUITION: Her intuition is very sharp thanks to her training as a detective. 

PROBLEM SOLVING: She’s made a career out of solving problems, so she’s gotten very good at it.

GOALS: To serve and protect the people of Red Grave to the best of her ability.

INSECURITIES: She’s very insecure about the huge scar on her chest, which is why she never wears anything that shows her cleavage. No one knows about this since she’s so damn good at hiding her feelings. The only time it comes to light is when she’s intimate with a partner, but even then she just insists on wearing something to cover her chest. Her partner can still see and touch her anywhere if her demands are met. 

ACHIEVEMENTS: She was very proud when she got her badge and when she got her promotion to detective.

ANXIETY: Sharp objects near her eyes really freaks her out. And being around demons still makes her a little uneasy.

OVERWHELMED: She has a pretty high threshold for stress, but the dam has been known to break when it gets to be too much at the same time.

SELF-HELP: She says that she deals with her life problems, but it’s more like she brushes them off until she has to deal with it in order to move on once it becomes inconvenient. 

COMFORTS: Drawing, dancing, and eating breakfast food.

BAD HABITS: She taps her fingers a lot and even bites her drawing pencils at times.

PHILOSOPHY: She’s not very religious, especially after all the things she’s seen and experienced in Red Grave. But what she does believe in is that everyone deserves justice tempered with common sense.

TRIGGERS: The screeching of demons and malicious laughter.

The Past

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: Both of her parents divorced when she was very young. She was mostly raised by her father while growing up. She loved her father very much, so when he died in the middle of a gunfight she was utterly devastated. She had to move in with her alcoholic mother soon after, constantly bickering and dodging stray vodka bottles until she was old enough to leave. Her relationship with her mother hasn’t gotten any better since then.

SCHOOL: She always got the highest grades in her class. She was teased for having a “trashy bitch” as her mother by fellow classmates, but one punch to the face and groin of one bully soon put a stop to that until she graduated. 

ADOLESCENCE: Going through puberty was really rough for her since that was about the time of her father’s death. 

LEAVING HOME: She hated leaving her father’s home in Red Grave, but she celebrated leaving her mother’s home to pursue a career as a detective just like her father.

FURTHER EDUCATION: She went to a prestigious university for police training and to study criminal justice. 

FIRST JOB: She did a bunch of odd jobs before moving out of her mother’s house, mostly food delivery and front desk clerk for a local mechanic.

LIFE EVENTS: Watching her father get shot multiple times definitely solidified her decision to become a detective at a young age. Getting her badge and promotion was a very proud day for her. Almost dying at the hands of a malicious demon while working a case still affects her to this day.

WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: The day her father died.

BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: She finally found her place in the world beside her devilish partner.

LESSONS: Life isn’t always a basket of rainbows and sunshine; sometimes it’s just hell in a handbasket disguised as the most wonderful dream. Humans will always put up a fight even when it seems hopeless. Always get the whole picture before putting your pencil to paper.

LOOKING BACK: If Mira could re-play her life and do something differently, it would be to not call out her father’s name that fateful day...maybe if he hadn't of turned around he would’ve seen one of the shadowy figures pointing a gun at him. Maybe he would’ve lived if he hadn't just looked away at just the wrong moment.

Relationships

FAMILY: After her father died and she moved out of her mother’s clutches, she just accepts that she has no more family to speak of.

FRIENDSHIPS: A couple of her co-workers can be considered close friends. She values honesty in friendship, but finds it hard to open up about her feelings even among long time friends.

FRIENDS IN NEED: She’s a really good listener so she helps by hearing a friend out while they rant and rave their troubles to her. She’ll only offer advice when asked, and if it’s a subject that makes her feel uncomfortable...well, she tends to just stay silent and hope that it ends soon enough.

NEEDING A FRIEND: She’s always relied on herself so it doesn’t even cross her mind to seek help. She’d much rather just deal with her problems on her own, which makes the few friends she does have worry about her from time to time.

ANNOYANCES: She’s very easily annoyed if you know exactly what really grinds her gears. And if an argument or disagreement starts, she won’t back down unless proven wrong or she just gets way too angry and needs to leave to let off some steam. 

ROMANCE: She’s never really wooed anyone in a  romantic sense...she’s very up front and to the point, so if she intends to take someone to her bed then she’ll spell it out in big bold letters. She’s attracted to people who aren’t afraid to let her know a piece of their mind and respect her privacy.

MARITAL PROBLEMS: She’s not married, but there would probably be a lot of bickering and some fights that end with some sort of compromise.

ADVERSARIES: She doesn’t tolerate narrow mindedness and duplicity among friends.

ENEMIES: Anyone who harms innocent civilians and uses trickery for their own selfish gain will be seen as an enemy in her eyes. 

STRANGERS: She’s respectful of strangers since that comes part of the job, but she has no problem sharing a piece of her mind if they’re rude.

FUN STUFF: She likes to hang out at the local cantina for some good food, margaritas, and some salsa dancing.

DATING: She would just like to do what she normally does with friends...just in a more intimate setting with just her and her romantic partner. She also wouldn’t mind staying home, cooking a meal, and eating together on the couch while watching old movies. 

BEST FRIEND: To be determined.

LOVE: If she’s ever honest with her feelings...her devilish partner will forever always have her heart.

WORST ENEMY: Right now, whoever is behind the current string of murderers and disappearances is number on her list of worst enemies. The one criminal who got away is second for now.

RESPECT: She will never respect any enemies that pull innocent civilians into harm's way for selfish gain. 

Interactions

MINGLING: She’s not much of a mingler and she’s terrible at making new friends.

COMFORT LEVELS: She’s somewhat comfortable talking to people, but doesn’t go out of her way to to do so unless it’s for a case. The only time she’s uncomfortable is when they invade her personal space.

PHYSICAL: She’s not touchy-feely at all. The closest she’ll ever get to close contact is handshakes, shoving her elbow into someone that’s annoying her, and the occasional pat on the shoulder and arm.

GROUPS: She does okay in a big group, but she’s more than likely sulking in the corner listening to various conversations. It’s only when she’s hanging out with a small group of people that she can feel truly relaxed.

OPENNESS: She’s definitely not an open book...more like an angry bee buzzing around in an airtight jar. And even if you manage to crack the lid open you still gotta deal with one pissed off bee! But if someone’s able to withstand her sting then she’ll gradually open to them.

GENEROSITY: She’ll buy gifts for close friends for their birthday and holidays. And she would be willing to lend money to a friend if so long as it’s for an important and responsible reason. She always tells everyone that they don’t need to get her anything, but it secretly warms her heart anytime she receives a gift.  

JEALOUSY: She’s not prone to jealousy unless it has something to do with her job, such as someone seeing a clue she should’ve seen first, which just pushes her to do better. When it comes to romantic jealousy, she will do one of two things: she’ll either pretend that it doesn’t bother her while asking a lot of questions OR she’ll straight confront her partner about it with just a tad of anger within her voice.

TEMPER: She has one helluva temper! But it only comes out if you know juuuust the right buttons to press. And she tends to keep a lid on her temper while working unless it will help get a lead that will help the case.

EMPATHY: She’s able to empathise with people despite living a hard life, and her training as a detective sharpened this to a fine point since it sometimes helps to think like a killer. She’s always careful about what to say as long as she isn’t in the middle of an angry tirade.  

AFFECTION: She doesn’t show affection in the typical way; sometimes she’ll give a little sketch on a napkin or a full on drawing. Other times, she’ll bring some takeout from their favorite place along with their preferred booze of choice. And as for physical displays of affection, she likes to lean her on their shoulder or chest, maybe some light hand holding if she’s comfortable around them.

DISTASTE: She’ll outright tell someone she dislikes them to their face. But if she REALLY doesn’t like someone, she’ll dig up some dirt on them and casually pull it out the next time they get on her nerves.

ETIQUETTE: She can come off as rude and inappropriate at times thanks to her upfront attitude, but she tries really hard to reign it in during certain situations.

RESPONSIBILITY: If she’s proven to be wrong then she will not only own up to her mistakes, but she’ll also try her hardest to correct it. 

SELF ESTEEM: She’ll not only stick up for herself...she’ll straight up fire back! Being bullied in school has toughened her up and her skin has only grown thicker since then. 

CONFIDENCE: She doesn’t give a damn what people think about her.

HONESTY: She always speaks her mind honestly at all times. But while working she’ll keep some thoughts private if she thinks it will lead to a break in the case.

LEADER OR FOLLOWER: She’s a leader through and through.

PARTY TRICKS: She’s pretty decent at speed drawing and she can tie a cherry stem into a knot, sometimes two knots if it’s long enough, using only her tongue.

PRAISE: It depends on who is giving her the compliment that determines her reaction. If it’s her superior complimenting her on a job well done, then she’ll accept it graciously but move onto the case. But if it’s someone in a more intimate setting giving her a compliment, she’ll still accept it but feel very strange about...almost as if she really enjoys it even though she doesn’t think she deserves the praise.

FAILURES: Some people don’t appreciate her abrasive attitude and her terrible temper hasn’t made her much friends in the past.

CRITICISM: She can handle criticism, but she has a tendency to beat herself up over it if it’s related to work.

INSULTS: It depends on who’s insulting her. She’ll launch into a full on yelling match at some, but then roll her eyes and just fire back with her own insult at others.

EMBARRASSMENT: It takes a lot for her to feel embarrassed. But when it does happen, she tries really hard to hide it behind her stoic expression. The tips of her ears and front of her chest turn bright red when she’s embarrassed.

FLIRTING: She’s not verbally flirty, but her body does all the talking while dancing. 

ATTENTION SPAN: She’s great at multitasking and can hold her concentration for a very long time. She’s not easily distracted either.

SITUATIONS: She’s not good at dealing with difficult social situations, mostly because her first instinct is to start yelling. 

Life

CAREER: Detective for the Red Grave City P.D. She’s one of the best in her department and she finds her job very fulfilling with every case she solves.

PROMOTION: She’s happy where she is at the moment, but sometimes she feels like she could do more, which always leads to the idea about leaving the force to become a private detective just like her father.

BOSS: The superior she reports to was her partner before he got the promotion, so they have a pretty good relationship. 

DUTY: Solves crimes and brings criminals to justice whenever possible.

TECH: She’s great with modern technology.

POLITICS: Not very political.

COMBAT SKILLS: Has basic training in hand-to-hand self defence and has precise aim with her gun. She’s also not afraid to whip out one of her many hidden knives if ever disarmed.

HOME: She lives in a one bedroom flat near downtown Red Grave. It’s kept very clean and neat in some areas like the kitchen, but the one corner of the living room that serves as her work area is an organized mess of pencils, drawings, and crime scene photographs. Sparsely decorated with only a few personal touches here and there, such as a display case that holds her father’s custom gun.

DAILY LIFE: Goes through with the day-to-day tasks in a calm and orderly fashion most of the time. There are some days where stress gets the better of her, but some greasy food and a couple of margaritas help get her back on track.

INDEPENDENCE: Very independent ever since her father died.

COOKING: She’s a decent cook, only knowing a handful of recipes handed down to her from her father. Her specialty is spicy chicken wings, pan pizza, and pancakes.

BUILDING: She inherited her father’s toolbox and uses it for basic DIY around her flat since she hates waiting up for maintenance. She’s also a decent mechanic, which comes in handy when her motorcycle needs a tune up. And she knows a little about sewing, mostly just to fix her various riding jackets.

CLEANING: She tries to keep her flat clean, especially the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. But sometimes her job distracts her from doing her chores for days at a time.

SHOPPING: She doesn’t mind shopping, but it’s not something she looks forward to. She usually buys what she can online just so she doesn’t have to go out. She’s a sensible shopper and isn’t prone to impulsive buying unless it’s for a special occasion. 

DRIVING: She built her own custom motorcycle and drives around on it all the time.

FINANCES: She’s financially stable and pays her bills on time. She also has a tidy sum in her savings since she rarely splurges in anything besides food and drinks.

MARRIAGE: Not married and doesn’t really see marriage in her future. 

KIDS: No kids and doesn’t want kids.

PETS: No pets but wouldn’t mind getting one if she ever moves into a bigger flat.

DEPENDANTS: No.

LAW: The police got involved when she punched a bully’s lights out in high school, but no one pressed charges against her. Not much trouble with the law after that. 

COURT: She had to go there numerous times to sort out some legal issues with her mother.

PRISON: No.

TRAVELLING: She hasn’t been on holiday since college, and every time someone brings it up she just shrugs and says that her job doesn’t allow breaks. But she wouldn’t mind traveling somewhere for a time, drawing some new scenery and clear her thoughts before getting back to work.

MEDICAL: She goes to the doctor and dentist when she has to, but avoids the eye doctor like the plague...especially if the check up involves sharp objects near her eyes.

ILLNESS: She has PTSD.

WORRIES: She worries about difficult cases from time to time, wondering if she’ll solve it before more lives are lost.

PEACE: She doesn’t mind peace and quiet, but she’s gotten good at filtering out distracting noise whenever she’s concentrating on drawing or just pondering about theories. She listens to rock music while cooking though.

PARTYING: She loves to go dancing at the local cantina with a couple of her coworkers on the weekends. But she sometimes stays in if she wants to be alone with her thoughts.

HOBBIES: Her job as a police sketch artist before her promotion to detective has now become an enjoyable hobby. She also likes to collect knives and hide them in various places all over her person as well as her flat. And she’s been known to tinker with her motorcycle and find ways to make it run smoother.

I used this detailed character meme here to fill this all out (the OP’s tumblr is either deactivated or on private so I cannot provide the link there)

[elitespacefreak]

*KICKS DOOR DOWN* You have asked for requests and you shall RECEIVE! gimmie them headcanons about how Zim, Dib and Professor Membrane will feel about getting feelings about reader, Please And Thank You :3

IT IS 2:30 IN THE MORNING AND ITS SO GODDAMM HOT IN MY ROOM I CANNOT GO BACK TO SLEEP so I’m gonna drink my left over sweet tea and indulge some asks~ or maybe just this one ionno

Zim

Zim and feelings are kinda weird, he’s capable of them but identifying and understanding them is a hurdle. They happen, and usually with fairly moderate intensity, and he just sort of is along for the ride.

This means his behavior will change towards you without his express permission and at the start of this you’re both very confused at what’s going on. Did he just hold the door open for you? Why did he do that? Someone made a snide comment towards you and he seems upset about it?? You’re both thinking these things simultaneously because suddenly neither of you really know what’s going on.

He starts talking these feelings out to himself out loud at home just to sort of work through them. Gir, Minimoose, and his Computer all insist that he’s developing feelings - Minimoose articulates it the best. He is not convinced. Minimoose further explains how what happened with Tak was very different.

There’s a period of denial. And while you can sort of pick up on it, it’s purpose is unknown to you. The distance he puts up makes your heart hurt a little but you want to be sympathetic, a lot of things are still weird for him. But eventually you figure it’s just best to ask directly.

He tries to play it off at first, but that only lasts so long before he’s so annoyed that his emotions don’t seem to be lessening that he just monologues them for you. His thoughts, how his body physically reacts, how that makes him feel, etc. And then you have to gently explain to him what that means. He asks “Well what am I supposed to do about it?” You ask “What do you want to do about it?” He thinks for a second, then decides he deserves it and kisses you.

Dib

Dib is literally so cute about his feelings. But it takes him a while to actually acknowledge them. His mind is constantly busy, he’s got a lot going on because he likes to always have something to do, so it takes a bit for him to slow down enough before he gets the notion to assess his own feelings.

At first he just thinks it’s a normal reaction to you being nice to him. You listen, and banter, and make jokes with him. You’re kind so of course he’s going to like you more than other people, right?

That’s where it starts, and then he catches himself holding eye contact a little too long, and watching you leave a little too long, and getting a little too eager to see you. Is this what it’s like having a real friend? It feels kind of intense for that...

One night he gets caught up in new research after he had mentioned out loud going to visit you, and when Gaz gets upstairs and sees that he’s still home, she pokes her head into his room. “Hey, weren’t you going to go see your girlfriend/boyfriend?”

That totally catches him off guard. You guys weren’t dating! ... were you? Did people think that?? Why would people think that???? He’s quiet for a long time before it suddenly smacks him in the face that he really does have feeling for you. When did that happen!?!?

He immediately feels bad and drops what he’s doing to make good on his plans to see you and turns into the blushiest boy because he can’t tell if you can tell or what you think about it or if you have feelings too and he just starts rambling because he gets so nervous and he can’t help it and - you have to stop him with a smile. And ask if everything is okay.

Telling you is a debate in his mind. You two are friends, and there’s no denying that. So if he said something about his feelings, and you didn’t reciprocate, would you not be his friend anymore? He was so worried that he didn’t realize he’s gone totally silent and then he felt bad for completely spacing out and ended up just blurting his confession. His sheepishness is very cute and you can tell he’s never done this before so you kiss him on the nose and his heart just melts. He kisses you back~

Professor Membrane

I’ve never done these kinds of headcanons for him before so this is gonna be an experiment. For science. Because he’s a man of science, and I think I’m funny~

He’s not real good at paying attention to little details in a way that he realizes. What I mean by this is, he picks up on everything without really noticing, and doesn’t always do something with all this extra data his mind is constantly collecting.

You’d have to catch feelings first. And then the subtle changes of your behavior towards him are what he would subconsciously make note of. Sometimes he might respond in a way that makes you think he’s noticed, but verbally he doesn’t seem to have made the connection.

His kids have though. They notice everything. All of the little side glances and smiling eyes and benign comments. All of it. And one evening at dinner they ask him. “He Dad, you and so and so seem to be kinda close. Are guys dating?” He laughs it off as a no in a way that tells them both that he hasn’t actually thought about it. Which means he doesn’t know he has feelings yet.

The next time you two are having a conversation he lightheartedly brings it up with a small laugh in that way parents do to fawn over their children. Right after he mentions it there’s a pause, and then sudden and abrupt realization that hang on wait they might have been onto something. And now he’s nervous. And stuttering. And for the love of god why can’t he get a whole thought together??

You take pity on him, he seems to be struggling with himself. You ask if he’d like to go to dinner. He says yes. Later he tells his kids about it. They both get wide eyed and start hounding him with questions until he finally just admits out loud that, logically he must have feelings for you. Their eyes get wider and their questions come twice as fast. He has a hard time keeping up with his answers.

At dinner he recounts his children’s’ reactions to dote on them, and when you comment on how sweet you think they are, he decides that he does in fact have feelings for you. Also would you like to start dating? You say yes. His children won’t shut up about it and he thinks it’s endearing. So do you~

[threewaysdivided]

I saw your conversation about Sam Manson. I was talking to Imekitty about this, but I’ve noticed a few things that (sort of) make Sam’s relationship with her parents seem more like teen-drama than actual hardship. If you look closely, she’s got a lot in common with them: outspoken political-activism, possible shared-interest in vintage clothes, and no shame in saying they don’t like certain people. Also, after the Fentons, they were the first to volunteer to use the Ecto-Skeleton, risks and all.

(In reference to this post.)

It’s been a little while since I rewatched DP so I’m not well-placed to do a detail-analysis implication-breakdown right now, but yeah - that fits with the overall impression I remember getting.  To me they came across as being sort of old fashioned set-in-their-ways conservative and snooty, and maybe a bit too Pleasantville -  but more often in the way of parents who do genuinely want good things for her and to be able to be proud of her despite not really understanding her interests, choices or friends and being very bad at expressing it.  Plus she seems to have her grandmother fully in her corner a lot of the time.

I really wish that the writers had committed to one or the other; either making it clear that Sam’s martyr/ persecution complex is mostly just regular self-inflicted teen-drama BS and giving her an arc addressing it, OR fleshing out the idea that she faces a lot of judgement/ pressure/ control/ nonacceptance in her home life and that her negative traits are a bi-product of defensive/ coping mechanisms resulting from that strained dynamic, rather treating things with Roger Rabbit Rules.  

(Which isn’t to say that a person can’t have similar interests/ personality traits to, and positive interactions with, their parents while still having a strained, broken or even abusive relationship with them on a deeper level, but the show never really goes hard enough in either direction to make it work.)

As mentioned the last post, this is kind of a consistent pattern across DP - the writers tend go with the low-effort first answer for whatever is Funny or Awesome or Convenient in the moment rather than putting in the work to find a solution that’s consistent with the characterisation, themes and world-lore overall.  There’s enough internal contradiction in the show that I don’t think it’s actually possible to take every canon detail as canon without fundamentally breaking things.  And in some ways that’s kind of cool; it makes the series more open to interpretation, and trying to distinguish authorial intent from authorial incompetence and come up with theories that account for as many pieces of canon as possible is really satisfying.  But, you know, it’s also kind of bad writing in general.

I think the thing that bothers me about Sam’s characterisation in particular is that - where it tends to be more obviously out-of-character when it shows up in other places - there’s a pattern to the inconsistency with how the writers handle Sam:

Throughout the series there’s a double standard in how Sam sees herself/ seems to expects others to act, compared to her own behaviour:

Despite being pro-pacifism she’s okay with smacking Tucker and encouraging Danny to destroy the trucks she doesn’t like

Sam values self-expression and is a feminist, but derides other girls for wanting to express themselves in a conventionally feminine way

Sam doesn’t like being forced to conform to others’ values but is okay with forcing others to conform to hers

Despite being anti-consumerist she shows very little discomfort at, or awareness of, her lavish home life and material belongings

She encourages Danny to take the moral high ground towards his bullies but has no problem antagonising and getting into petty verbal spats with Paulina herself

Sam stalks Danny and his love interest out of jealousy/ protectiveness but threatens to end their friendship when he does the same

In Mystery Meat, when Danny tries to express his discomfort/ anxiety, Sam hijacks the conversation to complain about her own parents instead of listening.

In One of a Kind Sam photographs Danny and Tucker hugging in their sleep, without their knowledge, with the stated intent of putting it in the yearbook, then uses it to blackmail them into silence. 

Side note: this joke is also tacky on a meta-level because it boils down to “male intimacy ha ha toxic masculinity no homo amiright?“ Would have been nice if show didn’t use low-key sexist humour as much as it did.

Instead of expressing that she’s hurt by Danny’s “pretty girls” comment in Parental Bonding, Sam retaliates by pushing him to ask Paulina out - a move she knows will most likely result in him getting publicly shut down and humiliated.

Then, after getting the result she wanted, she comes over to gloat and insults Paulina, rather than dropping it now that her point’s been made, which is what ultimately sets off the episode’s subplot.

In Memory Blank Sam permanently physically alters Phantom’s appearance to better suit her tastes while he’s not in a position to understand or give informed consent, then lies when Danny notices and asks about it later.

To be clear this definitely isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of her character and it’s not there 100% of the time - there are plenty of moments when she is loyal and generous and helpful and sincerely kind and where her stubbornness comes in handy.  But it’s the aggregate pattern of all these small instances that drives a crack through the foundation of her character integrity; producing this insidious undercurrent alternate-reading of Sam as someone who, at a deep level, just doesn’t respect or recognise that the emotional needs, pains, opinions, autonomy and boundaries of others are as real and valid as her own, and who responds to criticism with passive-aggressive hostility.

Again, I think that’s why people are so quick to point out that line from Phantom Planet, even though we all know the episode was a complete mess.  None of the examples above are particularly bad in isolation - you can’t really point at any one of them and say “oh no, bad girl” without sounding like you’re making a mountain out of molehill and irrationally hating on her just to hate on her.  It’s an uncomfortable slowburn pattern of subtle micro-transgressions that accumulates across the series - a “you might not notice it but your brain did”.  And it makes sense that it would be the worst-written episode that amplifies and brings that regular bad-writing undercurrent close enough to the surface for people to consciously recognise and use it to articulate those frustrations.

To wit: Not because it’s most telling of her character but because it’s most telling of the specific bad writing that regularly hurts her character. 

And again, from a storytelling point of view, it’s okay for Sam to have flaws.  She’s a teenager!  She’s learning.  She’s allowed to be egocentric and self-important and do things that aren’t the best at times.  It’s okay if these are her character weaknesses and a source of conflict with the rest of the cast.  But again, for that to be satisfying something really should have come of it.  It would have been nice if the writers were willing to have any self-awareness about these flaws being flaws that a person should recognise and grow past in order to have healthy relationships with others.  But they didn’t - because it’s easier to keep her as she is - to the point that they’ll actively bend the narrative to roll back or skip over moments that would have necessitated that growth.  So, even though they call attention to her flaws, the writers end up rewarding and enabling them instead of letting her learn.

And again, this isn’t meant to hate on Sam.  Hanlon’s Razor in full effect: it’s clearly a result of authorial/editorial incompetence rather than deliberate malice.  I know this isn’t the intended interpretation.

My preferred reading of Sam Manson is that she’s a Rosa Hubermann/ Hermione Granger/ YJS1 Artemis Crock-type character.  Someone who’s passionate and forceful and maybe a bit abrasive and hard to love at a glance, but whose core nature is compassionate and sincerely kind and loyal-to-the-death for the people they value.  I wish I could 100% like her without caveats; to be able to say that even if I don’t agree with her flaws I can at least understand that they’re a valid product of the life she lives, that they make her who she is and that she’s trying her best to be a good person who will get better despite them.  

But I can’t because the writers don’t give her that.  They’re always prioritising other things over the integrity of her character.  They don’t give her background enough time and context to make her negative traits feel resonant with it (because that would take time away from the Wicked Cool Radical Ghost-Fighting Superhero Action™) and the framing and plotting doesn’t give her chances to recognise or grow past them (because that would mean character development and those negative traits are an easy source of cheap conflict).  The writers just don’t seem to care all that much about Sam - her actual character, who she is, how she came to be that way, what she wants or how her negative traits would actually play against Danny and the others.

And that sucks.  Because she has a lot of potential to be a well-rounded and great character.  I’ve seen plenty of fics that seize that potential and roll with those gaps and the result is very good.  I wish I could like her canon depiction without feeling like I have to actively ignore a bunch of latent behavioural red flags as the price of entry.

She deserved better.

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

MJS Aftermath - The Return

This follows on from MJS Aftermath - Six Feet

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

<3 B

A knock at the door.

Knocks on the door are usually fairly innocuous.

And this one was punctuated by the excited barks of two puppy greyhounds named Kaga and Ishigami.

“Oh, come on you guys,” Miho complained, following the excited loping bounce of her dogs. “There is no need to bark at absolutely everything that approaches the house.”

Apparently, the puppies disagreed, and continued to bark as if a world full of murderers were congregated on the other side of the door.

“For fuck’s sake, Kaga,” she huffed, dancing to dodge the poochies underfoot. “Get out of the way!”

She was so preoccupied by not dropping the baby cradled against her chest, that she didn’t bother to check the intercom before pulling the door open.

He looked tired and his clothing was wrinkled, but upon first glance, Seiji Goto seemed to be in one piece.

For all of about two seconds before he was bowled over by both dogs, who had grown since their daddy had gone away.

As he fended off frantic tongues, whipping tails and excited butt wiggles, Miho remained standing just inside the doorway, staring at her husband as she bit down on her lower lip. Since their last and fleeting moments in the park months ago, she had not seen or heard from him, and now suddenly there he was without warning.

There were many things she wanted to say to him, to express the depth of her longing to have him back, the difficulty of maintaining the ruse when his own mother and father thought he was dead. But now, and he tucked a dog under each arm, and smiling got back to his feet, she couldn’t manage a single word.

“Ahh, I didn’t think I was gone that long,” were his first words, inclining his head toward the infant she held, but it totally didn’t compute.

“Huh?” she blinked finally.

“The baby?” he clarified, placing the dogs back down and moving closer to her.

“Oh uh, it’s not ours,” she declared, as if he actually thought it was, then managed to summon some emotion to the surface. “Ours is inside.”

“Wait, what?” Goto blurted, looking up and down her body.

“Not inside me, inside, inside,” she chortled, stepping aside to give him room to pass by.

Definitely confused, Goto grabbed his bag, and with it slung over his shoulder.

It was only as she passed where Jazz had put Mika’s baby bag down on the loungeroom couch, that Miho realised her company wasn’t expecting…

“Seiji?” Jazz gawped, frozen in the open glass doors that led to the small backyard, a squirmy little shiba inu puppy struggling to get out of her grip.

“Oh um… yeaaaah,” Miho stalled, trying to figure out the best way to handle the fact she’d not been able to tell even Jazz about Goto’s undercover investigation. “And before you ask, he’s not a zombie.”

“I… can honestly say I was not going to ask that,” Jazz managed.

“Why don’t you go put your bag in the bedroom,” Miho suggested, awkwardly. “Grab a shower?”

“Good idea,” he nodded, looking a little sympathetically between the two women before disappearing.

“Soooo, I have to tell you some things, since, obviously I can now and I couldn’t before even though I wanted to - gah you have no idea how much I wanted to - But Ishigami said it could jeopardise everything and put Seiji at greater risk and so - it was so hard to keep this from you!”

Wringing her hands, the guilt was written all over her face.

Slowly, watching the bedroom door like she expected Ghosto to come floating back out rattling chains or something, Jazz moved into the loungeroom and sat on the couch, the puppy continuing his battle.

Following suit, Miho then continued to blurt out the circumstances of Goto’s death without going into any police details, and how she had come to discover the truth about just how deep his undercover operation had gone. There was a lot of apologising, begging even, but once Jazz overcame the shock of seeing a friend return from the dead, she was quick to assure Miho there were no hard feelings.

“Tell me though,” she grunted, wincing a little as the puppy bit her finger. “Do all your husbands rise from the grave?”

“Umm,” Miho murmured.

“I mean, are you keeping other secrets? Like you’re a necromancer or some kind of voodoo priestess?”

“No other secrets, I promise,” Miho laughed, clearly relieved, glancing to the bedroom door for the hundredth time, gnawing the inside of her cheek.

“This must have been really hard on you,” Jazz frowned, finally putting the puppy on the floor, where he promptly prepared to pounce Kaga who was curled up on the rug. “Keeping this to yourself, pretending.”

“It was,” Miho agreed. “But not as tough as actually putting him in the ground.”

Again she paid the bedroom door some attention, and Jazz got to her feet and reached down to take her daughter.

“Okay, well, I imagine you’ve got some - ahem - catching up to do,” Jazz smirked, lightly bumping Miho’s foot with her own. “So I’ll get going, but I expect there to be some kind of resurrection party in the not too distant future.”

“No doubt,” Miho grinned, and followed Jazz to the front door, handing her the baby bag at the last minute.

“And I’m going to want all the juicy reunion details,” Jazz added, widening Miho’s smile.

But as soon as Jazz was gone, and the door was closed, Miho’s cheeks fell and an all too familiar anxiety began to twist in her stomach.

She was nearly oblivious to Ishigami who walked in slow step with her, didn’t notice the way he looked up at her with concern as she tentatively headed toward the bedroom. There was no soft hiss of water, and it cut slashes of doubt that she’d just imagined everything, that when she reached the bedroom, her husband would not be there.

Swallowing, she crossed the threshold, expecting emptiness like all the other times she’d come home in the last few months - but there was a man standing in front of the wardrobe with his back to her in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, his hair still damp.

All those words again stuck in her throat, and her eyes burned unlike any other time she had cried before.

It was a gasping sob that made him stop feretting around for a shirt and turn to see his wife overwhelmed - her shoulders slumped from exhaustion, face a mural of relief and joy and a resurgence of all the pain she’d felt in his absence.

“My love,” he said, the resonating warmth in his voice chipped away the very last of Miho’s armour.

When she fell against his chest, he locked his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

“I missed you so much,” he exhaled, then filled his lungs with her. “And I’m so sorry I put you through this.”

Usually articulate and unreserved in expressing herself, Miho still could not verbally reply.

“I love you,” he declared honestly, sliding his hands up her back and taking her head between them. “I love you.”

The only way she could manage a response, was to fiercely claim his lips - desperately parched in the desert, finally finding life-living water.

And in that kiss they conversed in a way only soulmates could, in reaffirmation of all the promises they’d shared and all that would be shared in the future.

What began in tenderness, however, became far more visceral when Miho pulled Goto to the bed and dragged him down on top of her. She knew every contour of his body by memory, but her fingertips searched anew, discovering each muscle, each blemish and scar with invigorated  relish.

Eagerly, Goto pulled at her clothing - even the thinnest of barriers between them was too much when the distance between them had stretched so far for so long.

Then he let out a sharp yelp and rolled to the side to look down.

Ishigami and Kaga had entered the room at some point and silently flopped onto their beds, but the little shiba inu was snapping at Goto’s ankles and making a big show of how tough she was.

“And who exactly is this?” he laughed, swooping on the furious fluff and dropping it on the bed next to Miho.

“Our baby,” Miho answered, scooching up to her pillow and relaxing, all urgency lost to the euphoria of having more than dogs on her bed. “Her name is Mochi.”

“I was going to guess Soma,” Goto nodded, lying on his side and offering the puppy his hand to sniff. “Ishigami and Kaga weren’t enough?”

“It was Kurosawa,” Miho sighed, watching blissfully as Puchi pounced on Goto’s hand and began to gnaw on his thumb. “He thought, or, thinks you’re dead so - he wanted to cheer me up.”

“I should have known,” Goto chuckled. “He’s the only person I know whose go-to present is puppies.”

“So, he knows now, right?” Miho probed, her eyes fixed on Goto’s face, the soft expression he made as he played with the pup. “And the others?”

“Not yet,” he answered, rolling Mochi onto her back and scritching up and down her belly - much to the jealousy of Ishigami and Kaga who leapt up to join the rest of the family. “I debriefed with Captain Ishigami out of the office then got clearance to come straight home. He understood.”

“Or maybe feared Liana would be angry if he kept you from me any longer,” Miho offered, snuggling Kaga up against her, while Ishigami sat against Goto’s legs. “Other than Ishigami and Namba, she’s the only other person who knew.”

For several minutes, the only sounds were Mochi’s irresistibly cute growls as she fought her battle with the hand monster.

“Captain Ishigami will brief my colleagues tomorrow morning, then I’ll head to the Academy.”

“What about your family?” Miho asked quietly, flicking one of Kaga’s ears back and forth.

“I was hoping my wife would help me face them,” he smiled hopefully. “They’ll receive an official letter, then I thought we could invite them here for a short stay before…”

If he said, ‘before I go back to work’, Miho knew she was going to cry again.

“... before you and I go somewhere,” he finished, moving closer to Miho though there were three dogs sandwiched between, one of them now trying to stick her tongue in his nostrils. “I have a considerable amount of vacation time owing, and I just want to bask in your presence for every minute of every day and night until you’re sick of me.”

“So never? You have that much vacation time?” Miho posed, rolling off the bed to stand, and continuing to undress.

“I guess I could retire,” he mused, watching her drop each item of clothing onto the floor, even though she was not making a particular show of it. “You could be the breadwinner, and I’ll stay at home , cook, clean and raise our furbabies.”

Miho laughed, finally tossing her panties at him and coiling her hair up into a bun.

“You’ve improved since I’ve met you, Seijo Goto, but you’re a far better cop than you are a cook.”

“And where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” he frowned seriously when she moved toward the entrance to the ensuite.

“I like to masturbate before going to bed,” she announced airily. “In the shower after a long day, imagining myself pinned to the cold tiles with you pressing into me.”

“Imagine no longer,” he grinned, pushing all poochies aside to follow her into the bathroom.

[kngofhell]

sam, 28, cst, they/she, self harm ⇢ i swear i just saw TOM ELLIS out on the streets but it turned out to be ELIAS MORGAN. HE was born on JULY 24TH 1984 making them only  THIRTY SIX years old. they’re known to be +ARTICULATE +CHARMING and -HEDONISTIC -VULGAR. they spend most of their time being a CLUB OWNER/MOB BOSS. rumour has it they’re BISEXUAL and can be found in downtown la . you know you’ve found them when you come across BRUISED KNUCKLES, THE SMELL OF TOBACCO AND VANILLA, AND DARK DANGEROUS EYES.

tw abuse, drug use, guns, violence, murder, anxiety/panic attacks and a VERY BRIEF mention of r*pe,  under the cut.

HI EVERYONE! It’s sam, your friendly neighborhood admin. This is elias morgan, my messy bad boy with a good heart. He’s based off of Lucifer from the show Lucifer, Harvey Specter from Suits, and a bunch of other characters that would be too long to list.  for easy info, you can find his stats at THIS link and his wanted connections at THIS link, but here is his basic bio!

Born in Cardiff, but raised in London, Elias was technically an only child until his father had an affair five years after he was born, this resulted in a younger half brother and younger half sister. His father, who claimed to be a godly man, was verbally, and sometimes physically abusive, and while his mother had a habit of showering him with attention, she did not much to stop his father from the abuse, and that led Elias to resent her (though he still harbors love for her, and sometimes misses her.)

When he was 18 years old, he came out as bisexual to his parents. His mother was receptive, but his father was not. He kicked him out and cut him off. Elias, who worked hard in school, decided to chance it across the pond and went to University in the states.

He knew it would be hard, but he couldn’t predict the life he would fall into.New York itself, and New York University were expensive, and after stumbling into the wrong bar one night, getting into a bar fight, and impressing the owner of the place,  Elias somehow fell into the mob, mostly as someone who would fight, defend if they needed to, acting as a body guard mostly to the bosses daughter.  

but he slowly worked his way up in the ranks, becoming a second hand to the head. He was strapped with his own weapon, learned the importance of always looking his best, and always being intimidating. Make them both love you and fear you, and he mastered that.

The money was more than good and the lifestyle was hedonistic, just what he liked. Men and women fell at his feet, unlimited access to alcohol and top scale drugs. He worked out a balance of school, and ‘work’.

Soon, Elias found something else he could do, with the power he held from the mafia, he had a lot of connections, and started doling out favors, sometimes he had a returned favor in mind, and sometimes, he would take an IOU, and he’d call them deals with the devil. A play on the way his father used to tell him he would ‘beat the devil out of him’ when he was younger.

When he was around twenty one years old, he started dating the bosses daughter, the one he was stationed to look after.  They had a whirlwhind, passionate romance, but it ended when she cheated on him and left. She was his first love, and she broke his heart. He vowed to never fall in love again after that and it worked, he slept around with men and women for years.

The first deal Raphael ever made with Elias was offering him a job to run things from Los Angeles. he’d get to open the club he always dreamed of, they had found a large building, which Elias would own outright, and he’d secure himself a penthouse and his dream job and full control of things from the west coast.

The deal entailed that he’d be working with them for the rest of his life, though. He didn’t mind that too much. So he moved across the country and set up his life in Los Angeles.

Elias is pretty well known, being the owner of a popular night club, and a bit of a slut, people tend to notice, and remember the 6'3 brit with a too charming smile. He throws a lot of parties, both just for the fun of it, or for charity.

Despite the lifestyle he lives, and the hard exterior, he’s fiercely loyal and protective of the people he considers his found family, the small circle he does have.

True to form, Elias has had multiple hook ups, but not as many “friends with benefits” as he’s more of a one and done kind of person, but about a year ago he met a girl in a bar and, to his surprise, he didn’t want it to be one and done.

He’s been sleeping with Casey Wells for about a year, and they found out she was pregnant, with twins. They’re his. Elias, who vowed never to fall in love, is currently finding himself having a lot more feelings for Casey than he originally planned, and is a lot more vulnerable around her than he’s ever been before.

Elias has been in Los Angeles for 11 years, has been with Casey for a year and a half, the twins were born on February 2nd 2020.  He;’s softened up when it comes to his family a lot more largely because of his love for Casey and the twins, but make no mistakes his still as hard and intimidating as he needs to be in his job.

small but still important facts:

has had to kill for his job. also has been shot for his job. he is usually always strapped with a gun and has custom bullet proof vests made.  He’s been trained to never leave a trace/evidence.

He doesn’t deal with sex work at all,  except for having strippers in the club unless there is full consent for anything more, and he has a bodyguard with each girl if they do agree to something more.

He tends to kill people who do things like hurting others, (r*pe, abuse etc)

has major anxiety/panic attacks due to the abuse in his past and sure, a lot of the stuff he has to do.

has been in los angeles for 11 years

he’s a dork,  from harry potter to mythology, he reads a lot and watches super hero movies and all of that, he’s not just guns and drugs and blood, he’s a soft boy occasionally, too.

has two cats that he spends FAR too much time cuddling, named Cain and Abel

[elegiesforshiva]

This is a review for the amazing sasusaku fanfic Perpetual Winter by @thefangirlslair It’s a brilliant modern AU and I highly recommend it!!!  You can read it on fanfiction.net or tumblr :)))) FF: c l i c kkkk Tumblr: Part I, Special Chapter, Part II And time for a criminally late and obscenely long review!!!

Pt I

Winter has never been his favorite season

Damn what an intro, I’m already getting angst vibes lmao.  I really like how you set the scene and stage the world of this AU.  I didn’t expect the existence of clans in this piece, with it being a modern AU, but this is such a fascinating twist on the setting to me. I loved how you described Naruto’s endurance as unnatural, “like there’s a demon living inside him” and Sasuke and his clan have inexplicable warmth….inexplicable do I dare say…fire ???? ;))))))

Lmao seriously what a great way to pay homage to canon though.  I love these attributes!

Modern au Sasuke that reads poetry and drinks coffee is a brand of pretentiousness I can get behind

Aaaaaaa omg I really REALLY REALLY fucking love this intro!  I love how you describe Sasuke as appreciating liveliness, and vibrance—which we can honestly assume is canon with how his two closest people are the embodiment of these traits.  And I love how you tie it back into the seasons.  This really gives so much life to that motif in this story, and the title. That was clever af

…he was taken back to the time where winter was just a mere season, Bon Iver was playing on their shared earphones, and Sakura was his. 

WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST FUCKING DESTROYED ME WHAT A WAY TO SEGWAY INTO THE NEXT SCENE OOOOF IM KSJDFHLJSAKFL

There are so many things I love about this following scene…  you really know how to write a couple in casual, mutual love.  The banter and candidness of their interaction just has me floored. I also REALLY love that this is from Sasuke’s perspective, and how even though he doesn’t have an overwhelming amount of dialogue, we’re in his head, and his appreciation and love for Sakura just radiates.  Lines like these:  

From her latest discovered band to a recent discovery in medicine by a genius dude whose name he doesn’t even remember, she shares it with him. Favorite anime character, favorite memory with him, favorite pair of underwear — he knows it all because she’s that open to him about things she love.

They’re just….so good. I can hear his voice, his ardor, and his impeccable understanding of Sakura’s personality while also expressiong his own.  The choice of having the narrative skewed through his lens was def a good decision. And ugh this piece is just overwhelmingly amazing already

He doesn’t know the pain to be dealt with when you’ve broken up with someone because Sakura was his first girlfriend. And honestly, he doesn’t, couldn’t, even think about being apart from her. Just the thought of them breaking up already makes him panic a little. He always thought to himself, ‘I will never let that happen.’

Okay this paragraph……………this paragraph tho……..dropping this.  KNOWING. They’re gonna break up……….HOW DARE U

Seriously, what powerful writing.  I don’t know how you do it……

I think it’s incredibly interesting that you chose music to be the catalyst for this beautiful, climactic moment of closeness  My best friend/partner and I have had convos before about it, and she and i once talked about how we think of sex with music lol.  I don’t know how to entirely explain myself on that, or where I’m really going with this, but I get the same vibe here too.  Music that’s close to you is like an artistic intimacy and there’s something very personal and vulnerable about it.  Maybe it’s an auditory thing, like getting lost in one of those guided meditations.  (idk if you’ve ever had one that actually worked, they don’t always for me, but when they do god damn, it’s unreal)  Either way, I really loved the way this scene played out, it was highly relatable and highly emotional, and I feel serenity and ardor just reading it.  Beautifully done.

I love the way you moved back to the present and we immediately feel the differences and the similarities.  The fondness and affection is still there, if not a little more muted, and it’s so obvious they still have feelings for each other.  But there’s definitely moments that speak to their separation too, with the little differences in Sakura that Sasuke notices, or instances like her no longer drinking coffee or him deciding to open the door.

I really like how you inserted the interaction with Kakashi too.  One thing I’m quickly noticing about this fic and your writing is how you very stealthily relay information to us readers.  It’s seamless and entertaining, and I’m learning about this world and the past in ways that are so attention grabbing I don’t even notice it.

Also Itachi’s death and the way you handled it from Sasuke’s pov is so reminiscent of canon and also so gut wrenching.  The lines 

How dare Itachi leave him alone? How dare Itachi sacrifice himself and die? How dare Itachi pass his responsibilities onto his shoulders… 

especially gutted me because of how is stands in stark parallels to the Sasuke we know in canon.  This really smacked my head around with feels….poor Sasuke

OMFG POOR SASUKE !!!?!?!??!?!??!? THAT ENDING OOOLOGDSLGFSLKDGHLSDHFLKDFHVSLKV WHAT A FUCKING CURVE BALL LMAO

I mean maybe I should have seen that coming because like of course!!!  But also I’M LOSING M Y SHIT HAHAHAHAAA

I can’t wait to see how this unfolds!!!!!

Special Chapter

This is such a powerful scene to start with.  Itachi’s entire character was such a major influence in canon and seeing the way his death is affecting everyone now is so emotional.  I feel so bad for Sasuke, having to take on all the burdens Itachi had left behind for him.

Also these lines:

“Mikoto cried, “Don’t you think it’s too soon? I just buried my first-born just barely a week ago and now we’re discussing how you’re gonna ruin my youngest’s life just like you did with Itachi?!”

The way her voice cracked when she said his brother’s name broke his heart. She’s still grieving, probably forever, and here they are talking about Sasuke’s suicide.”

Literally killed me. Dead.  Deceased.  Fallen to the Void.  It’s so brilliant and powerful, and speaks so deeply on their dysfunctional family dynamics and feelings with so few lines.  Really loved this…

This next scene was so stark and sad and beautiful.  I meant to comment and pull lines again, but I couldn't stop reading tbh.  Sasuke's thoughts and emotions concerning Sakura are so vividly gentle and full of praise.  There's such a soft worship in the way you write his feelings towards her and tbh it's my absolute and only interpretation of feelings I care for concerning the depiction of their relationship.  Still, you do this with a certain cleverness and mastery.  It's really so moving for me...

The dream sequence that follows is absolutely debilitating, but so well done.  I got the sense it was a dream only a few lines in just from the bluntness of the lines.  It was truly very dream-like lol.  I really could feel the panic and guilt along all of his inner turmoil.  It's incredibly horrific to have such a dream about murder just after Itachi's too.  This was devastating.

I really loved the way Sakura calms him groom the panic/anxiety attack.  I've actually had a similar experience once, where I woke up from a nightmare and I was very frightened and stiff and couldn't really articulate myself.  I remember I had felt deep horror and self loathing and nothing else.  (I still remember the nightmare too, it was horrible.)  My best friend at the time just threw herself on the bed and held me.

It's so crazy how grounding touch can be.  I really felt that with Sasuke and Sakura too.  The comfort she offers him is so seamless to her character and so ardently palpable.  The repetition of "I got you" really touched me especially.  It breaks my heart knowing the inevitable end of their relationship to come.

Oooooohhhh daaamnnnnn

I did NOT see the raunchy sex coming lmfao!!  Although in hindsight, I probably should have.  You already told us how they tend to get down and dirty when emotions run high with the arguments and make-up sex.  I imagine this is instigated by Sasuke often, with him struggling to articulate his need for Sakura verbally so he does so physically.  And I imagine Sakura is just kinky enough to crave this sort of animal want.  

I do love how sexual interactions are easily moving in tandem with their emotions, how it just feels like another mode of communication.  Sasuke breaking down during it leaves me feeling so tender too.  It's tragic

She smiled. Sasuke doesn't know if he wants that smile or not.

These exit lines are going to fucking kill me istg

The following events honestly hurts to read because Damn haven't we all been there...  the fallout of a relationship to the point where you're just dragging it through the mud… it’s a true deterioration of soul and you capture that slow death so well.  I really feel terrible for Sakura—Sasuke too—but it sucks for her to be in the dark like this.  

I love the way you write Karin!!!  Honestly, I think it really mirrors the way she's written in canon.  She's cold and strategically loud and generally calculating and overall kind of apathetic.  She doesn't really know the value of meaningful relationships (and therefore doesn't prioritize them) until much later on in the series.  I definitely get this sense of her here too.  She's a little cold, but not cruel, and she has the pragmatic values of her and Sasuke's union in mind as she agrees to it all.  I really like how you made her personality come through here.

Meanwhile there’s him, sucking all the hard traits from their father. His competitive streak, arrogant way of speaking, harsh words — it’s all Fugaku. And suddenly, he feels so exhausted.

This line hit me so hard. I love this fic already for an endless number of reasons but a striking one is how well you interrogate the relationships between family.  When you described Itachi’s death as Sasuke losing a part of him, I really felt that. And here when you write about the way Sasuke takes after Fugaku and hates it and is also exasperated from it, just like how his father likely is, it just runs bone deep.  You really know how to speak to life experiences and relationships in consistently intimate ways.  I love that about you

This is his reality now — no more dream, no more Itachi; and pretty soon, no more Sakura.

’It hurts,’ Sasuke thought. 'It hurts, aniki.’  

Wow death by angst lmao thanks for the pain, maren, glad to know you like to torture your readers as much as our ninja babies.  Srsly tho the cadence of these lines and the material itself sync up perfectly.  It’s such powerful writing

This entire scene is stuffed to the brim with dread and turbulence, and it’s so lifelike, I feel it’s haunting.  The way you describe the suffocating atmosphere of the car ride, how Sasuke snaps at Sakura for simply knowing that something is up, the awkwardness of the dinner… You really brought so much passion into these scenes, I feel like I’m being tortured right with them lol

I looooooove the drama of this playing out omg.  The way you have this convo go down is like a punch to the gut.  Sakura announcing her acceptance to Harvard, and then her refusal to go. Sasuke knowing he’s the reason why…the guilt…the anger…

Also omfg these lines:

Sasuke hardened his resolve and stiffly said, “No. I don’t need you, Sakura.”

’Yes, I do.’

Sakura shook her head, “Yes, you do.”

I DIED.  Sakura callin’ him out on his bull shit I fucking LOST IT lmaooOOooo   I love this so much and I love how you write their dynamic!  It’s funny how this fic plays into a lot of romantic clichés but also subverts them—gives them a twist that knocks the reader right off their feet. It’s honestly incredible

I loved the way you brought in winter into this scene too.  The image of it, the feel of it, the terrible, lonely tone.  It suits the entire mood of it all.

This is going to sound super dumb but I genuinely love how much agency you give Sakura btw.  You probably know I’m a raging, batshit feminist by now and I gotta say, her dialogue is consistently powerful and reeks of someone who knows who they are, and their worth, even when in the fallout of a relationship where they are getting the short end of the stick.  Like I’m just sitting here reading “Sasuke, you dumb jackass, what are you doing” lmfaoooo LIKE GURL I WOULD TREAT U SO GOOD…. SAKU BB IM SO SORRY BUT ALSO TRUST I KNOW HOW IT BE

I really do love it.  And I love how you wrote Sakura as an orphan too.  It really flips the script on the canon material (eat shit, kishimoto!!  Women can have trauma and real backstories not centered around men, u misogynistic pile of adskjfhsklhfalkd)  I just feel she’s very well written, and tangible, and powerfully human.  I’d be just as smitten as Sasuke tbh

The last scene is so upsetting… it’s also strangely warming too though.  It’s terrible Sasuke’s been broken down like this, but there’s something about this scene where he feels raw, and expresses his pain in a very infantile way, literally crying out to his mother about how it hurts.  I really feel he’s been stripped of not just his life, but himself, under the weight of Itachi’s death and all that’s come with it, and it makes my heart ache.  I loved this chapter, in all it’s infinite sadness.

Part II

He closed his eyes and thought about his talk with his father earlier, “We’re okay now. He called me while I was with Itachi.”

Love the ease and depth of this single line of dialogue.  How Itachi is not alive but is still with him, and how it speaks to the way we humans grieve and the continuity and strength of relationships even after someone leaves.  It’s just very simple and human, and it popped out at me.

He couldn’t even remember the last time they talked on the phone, or the last time he heard Fugaku as a father, not as the Uchiha patriarch.

Uggghhhhhhh this is exactly how I felt Fugaku was like in canon too.  This fic is just full of brilliance, I really adore the way you describe all the relationships, but the complexity between Sasuke’s and Fugaku’s is really striking to me.  You nail it perfectly.

And this whole intro where Fugaku apologizes to Sasuke and tells him he is proud…. I feel as if a major levee has been broken.  While he’s in front of Itachi’s grave too.  This Sasuke really has that same parallel with the one in canonverse where I feel he is held back by his family trauma, family obligations, the weight of blood.  And this scene feels like a breaking point.  Where Sasuke can be a man instead of an Uchiha, in the same way Fugaku gives him this moment as a father instead of an Uchiha patriarch.  It certainly feels like a cleansing of sorts.

Once you thought you’re over it, one pink-haired beacon of spring will bloom in your eternal winter and blow all your progress into next week. What a woman. He will never find anyone better.

AaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA !!!! this IS what I mean!!!  His inner thoughts of her ugh….i’m so weak…Sasuke you lovesick fool…. And the return of the beautiful seasons motif.  I love this so much

 You can say they were drunk — with liquor, with each other, with love.

I just adore this line. It really emphasizes the vibe of their past relationship and the picture as a whole, and just that electric feeling of being consumed with someone.  The description and cadence of it is just really catching, and I love it

 God, this entire scene. Damn, maren.  It’s criminal how well you write the tension of such a casual conversation.  It feels as if an interrogation of sorts is occurring, and yet it’s still a heartwarming kind. Sakura is not vicious or mal-intentioned in inquiries and yet it still leaves Sasuke weak and defenseless if only because of his feelings for her.  There’s so many ways you assert it too.  It’s in every line, every detail.  This one in particular stood out to me:

Sasuke clenched his fist under the table and scoffed, “I hope my mother didn’t tell you how miserable I was.”

'Still am,’ he corrected in his mind. 'How miserable I still am.’

I remember you used this particular tactic when also describing Itachi’s feelings from Sasuke’s POV. (Something along the lines of how he does became how he did because he is gone)  In this fic where time is moving back and forward in a non-linear fashion, these details are especially striking.  Despite the changes and pushes and pull, this one fact is consistent—Sasuke loves Sakura.  And we, as readers, relearn it with every line.

Also I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOvE that Mikoto saw Sakura off, and that there is this undertone of a bond. Like ughhhhh I’ve so been there, where there’s that depth of understanding between women and relationships that men don’t always know about or know how to grapple with it.  My ex resented me for it lmfao

Adkjfasklfalsjdkfakls SASUKE CAN RELATE TO HIM APPARENTLY AHAHAHAAHHA B SNAPPEDDDD I totally get it though, it’s a little intrusive of Sakura to ask for that, but we all also know why she did.  Poor saku bb is in love with this emotionally constipated idiot lmao.  Oh I love the endless pining and miscommunication of it all !!!

“I thought you’d be here,” a voice came and knocked on the closed door of his heart. He turned his face towards it, he saw her and suddenly his doors came opening again.

The winter sun was directly behind her, giving her this eerie glow. Like a nymph; a spring nymph being born in his perpetual winter. He shivered inside.

Back at it again with that seasonal motif !!!! ugh you are killing me.  I also really loved the phrase “knocked on the closed door of his hear.”  You really have such a way with these metaphors and images, it’s so striking and makes the narrative of this piece so brilliant

and silence is a comfortable companion back then. When they became lovers, it was like their platonic third-wheel aside from Naruto.

Ngl I busted out laughing on that one.  “aside from Naruto” hahaaaa I love the way you include him in this fic tbh.  He’s not a very big focus, but he still feels like an integral part of this story, not just as Sasuke’s best friend, but also as another device to unite Sasuke and Sakura.  Also he’s pretty fantastic comic relief, probably just as much for the two of them as for the reader.

I really love the way this convo goes down, and the change of scenery from the coffee shop to the playground.  Considering the way their love at this point is founded in nostalgia (and perhaps something else, but let’s ignore that for a second) it’s so fitting for them to finally stripping away the masks and cloaks and being genuine with one another—Sakura talking about how she knew all along, and Sasuke finally admitting he still loves her.

I also loved that Karin broke off the engagement!!!!!!  And how she did it and how you described it ughghhghg I love this.  You really spoke to her character growth and development in canon too.  It’s trivial compared to everything else that’s going on, but I love it.

…the pink of her hair, the green of her irises and the gold of the sun slowly setting down behind her.

Sasuke couldn’t see her clearly anymore, only the faint glow of her weeping eyes and the halo on her head made by the sun.

You think you’re slick don’t you…you think you’re some kind of mastermind with these subtle references/images…..well guess what bitch….YOU ARE

  I looooove how you tied the music back in.  Ugh this departure!!  MY HEART!!! Also I’m seeing a handful of songs I love including OUR BOIIIII !!!! rex orange county uhhghhgjak maren this is the romance of a lifetime I AM WEAK

Ughh the forehead kiss…..that was so sweet.  I loved Sakura’s choice to give him that bit of affection.  This scene is so beautifully intimate, despite their positions.

Omg I FINISHED HOLY SHIT!!! And Sasuke doesn’t get back with her! Wow!  Honestly, as much as my shipper heart is like, violently frothing at the mouth and saying “okay they totally got back together down the line tho like THEY HAD TO THEY ARE MADE FOR EACH OTHER WHAT IS TH—" I actually have such a deep appreciation for this ending.  Their relationship in this almost feels dream-like, and with the way the story unfolds, even if they still loved each other in the end (and I really don’t doubt that they do.  We don’t have Sakura’s perspective, but we also don’t need it.  the affections are clear) it doesn’t mean they will end up together or are even really suited for each other in such a way.  

Their love in this actually really reminds me of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  Have you seen that movie?  I just really get that vibe at the end.  This entire romance cuts very deep and is very passionate and leaves me feeling so whimsical.  I really loved this story, Maren…  thank you for sharing it with all of us.  thank you for writing it.  You’re really one of a kind and you and this story has my whole heart <333

Also I’m sorry this is so late, but when I said I am going to write you a review, what I meant was I am going to write you a review.  This English degree is good for nothing but sending elaborate love letters to friends and writers in the form of literary analyses and stupid overreactions and BY GOD I WILL NOT LET THIS CRIPPLING COLLEGE DEBT GO TO WASTE !!!

[amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes]

Reclassification

I’m super late but this is my entry for @letsby 500 Freestyle Challenge. I want to take the time to thank her so much for allowing me to submit this late as March and April have been hell for me. My prompt is “I don’t know where you get your information from” and it is italicized. This will have multiple parts. 

Paring: Thor x Reader (not in this part, I’m getting there)

Word Count: 1,909

Warnings: None right now 

You had to admit that as far as jobs went, this one wasn't too bad. It wasn't bad at all. It was surprisingly amazing and you couldn't help but be suspicious. When the HR representative called you to offer you the position, you almost asked if it was a joke. Sure you had sent your resume to Stark Industries but you never expected a callback. After you hung up, you immediately went to type up your resignation letter to your current employer and prepare what you were going to wear.

The first year went by in a flash. You were nervous but more than ready to show that you could prosper in the big leagues. And you couldn't get much bigger than Stark. You caught on to the the work quickly and the higher ups noticed your hard work. They also noticed your quick wit and never back down attitude. When you knew you were right, no one could tell you otherwise. It was your strength and weakness. You may have ruffled a few feathers but no one really said anything, to your face anyway, because they knew you were right.

This Monday morning started about the same. You all had been sent a new employee contract addendum to review and “let us know if you have any questions” was noted at the bottom. After reading through the document, you scoffed; did they really expect the workers to agree to this crap? Pursing your lips, you searched your desk for your favorite item, a red felt tip sharpie pen. You went to work and an hour later, there seemed to be more red ink on the papers than black. When you handed it to your supervisor, he looked at you like you had lost your natural mind.

“You do know that this came from the higher ups. Like higher than higher ups? It wasn’t really up for discussion. They're telling you what's it gonna be.” your supervisor Andy spoke slow and hoped you would catch the hints he was dropping. You tilted your head and crossed your arms. There really were things that needed to be changed and if they sent it to everyone with that note, they must have wanted input.

“It does say to let them know if we have questions.” you replied simply with a shrug. The two of you stared either other down for a few seconds before he released a strained sigh. He knew trying to get you to concede was a losing battle. Looking at the documents again, Andy took a deep breath before rubbing his temples in frustration. You were going to be the death of him.

“Okay, I see your point. But you know if I send this up they'll come down hard on you, yes? I may not be able to protect you.” Andy sighed again while his eyes were still glued to the papers.

“I'm a big girl. I can handle a little heat.” you smirked, flexing your arm into a muscle. Andy snorted and shook his head. He opened his drawer to pull out a manila envelope to place the documents in. You watched as he carefully fastened the small metal clasp and turned it over to write on it. After he finished, he handed you the envelope which you took with a polite smile and curtsied as you left his office. You heard him snort as you dropped the envelope in the inner office mail basket and walked back to your desk. Your coworker, Desiree, had been watching your little trot to the mail basket and eyed you curiously. Sitting at your desk, you made eye contact with her and blew a kiss at her.

“What have you done now?” she asked in a faux annoyed tone. You grinned at her and offered her a shrug. When you didn’t verbally respond to her, she shook her head and let out a small laugh.

Desiree was the first person to speak to you and take you “under her wing” when you first started. And let her tell it? You took off and found your own wings. She was about 15-20 years older than you but was still as spry as “you young folks.” For every disagreement and discussion Desiree was in your corner. and you defended her to anyone who dared question her. You considered her a mentor and loved her with very fiber of your being.

“I’m sure I’ll find out eventually if you have a hand in it.” she teased with an over exaggerated roll of her eyes. You looked away from her, the smile still plastered on your face. You sent a silent prayer that your revisions would be considered and you wouldn’t get fired for being too outspoken. The next day you didn’t even think about the documents until you were coming back from lunch and a man dressed in all black stood by your desk. You had never seen him before and your mind went to the worst possible scenario: he was here to escort you off the premises. Approaching reluctantly but with your head held high, you cleared your throat to gain his attention. Might as well get this over with. He acknowledged you with a curt nod as he turned to fully face you.

“I’m here to take you upstairs. If you would follow me.” he spoke formally. You glanced behind him to see Desiree watching the exchange warily; worry etched in every muscle of her furrowed brow. Giving her a reassuring wink, you turned to the man and motioned for him to lead the way. He lead you to the elevators and using a key-card that you didn’t recognize, he pressed the button for the 22nd floor. You tried not to fidget as the elevator made its slow assent. The man stood unnervingly still and you wanted to ask him what was about to happen to you. Seconds ticked by and you were growing more anxious. Having enough, you were about to tap his shoulder when the elevator finally dinged and the doors opened slowly. He gestured for you to get out first and you followed his direction too on edge to do otherwise.

Once you were off the elevator, you couldn’t help but gawk at your surroundings. This floor was not at all set up like a work floor. It was more like a condo with glass windows and a white sofa built into the pristine marble floor. You stared out the window in amazement. It offered a breathtaking view of the city below and you found yourself walking deeper into the room to get to the window. Like a moth entranced by the flame, you reached your hand to the glass. A snicker caught your attention causing you to jump and snatch your hand back.

“It’s about time you showed up.” the voice spoke and you whirled around to find its source. When you did lay eyes on it, your eyes widen in disbelief. Standing at a long bar that you failed to notice was Tony Stark. He was dressed in a grey suit with a black dress shirt underneath; the top two buttons undone. In his left hand was a glass of whatever he was drinking. In his other, a manila envelope with familiar writing on the front. You knew immediately what was inside: your documents. Your mouth went dry as the severity of the situation hit you. You were about to be fired by the owner personally. There would be no coming back from this. Your mind raced as you thought of what city you were going to have move to and what your new name would be because if your were blacklisted by Tony Stark, you may as well throw your name in a garbage disposal.

“Do-” Tony began as he moved closer to you. Your fight or flight response threatened to kick in and you took a reflective step back. This did not deter Tony as he stopped a few inches away from you. “I don’t know where you get your information from…” he trailed off before looking at the documents again. “Do you have a moment to go over this?” he finished holding the documents up you as if to give them to you. Before you could respond or even reach for the papers, Tony began again. “This is smart, kid. Real smart. You go to school for this? Grad? How long have you been with us? ‘Bout a year? Sound about right?”

You stare blankly at him as he hurdles question after question in rapid fire; the words reaching you with a three second delay.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, year.” you managed to finally stammer out.

“Not very articulate I see but we’ll work on that.”

“Hey wait I-”

“So here’s the thing. We need like an editor or whatever and I think you’d fit the bill. Whaddya say, kid?”   

“But I already work for you, Mr. Stark. And I’m not an editor.” you responded with a tilt of your head and crossing your arms. “And I’m not a kid. I finished in the-”

“Good so you’ll do it. Here.” Tony had cut you off yet again while handing you a small, plastic card. You huffed and took it from him. Bringing it to your face, you examined the item that looked more like a credit card. You frowned in confusion. Tony must have noticed and answered the questions swirling in your head.

“It’s a key-card that’ll give you carte blanche to the building. You’ll love it, kid. And don’t forget to try the spa on the 18th floor. You’ll love.”

“Mr. Stark please. What are you- hold on there’s a spa here?”

Tony gave a laugh at that as he walked over to the bar. You took it as a cue to follow him and perched yourself on one of the high metal stools that looked more like fancy upside down bird cages rather than a seat. While his back to you, you allowed yourself the opportunity to examine the different carafes of varying colored liquid. The clanking of a glass brought your eyes forward as Tony filled a glass with ice and had turned back to you.

“What’s your poison? Vodka? Whiskey? Gin? Rum?” he asked while pointing to each carafe. You stared at him bewildered at what he was suggesting.

“I’m on the clock though.”

“Bourbon it is. Good choice.” he winked as poured the dark liquid in the glass. The spiced scent of almonds hit your nose and you gape at the glass as if it was talking to you itself. It was the good, expensive stuff. Way too expensive for your salary. He slid the glass towards you as he began to fill his own. You regard the glass, and him, suspiciously.

“Is this a test?” you accused, eyeing the man who was now bent over the counter watching you. He grinned impishly before raising his glass in a toast.

“Welcome to the team.”

A/N: Can yall tell that I have no idea what bourbon tastes like? 

Taggong just a few: @letsby, @pocmarvelworks, @risingphoenix761, @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive 

[arodrwho]

2 autistics. traci and peter.

traci feeds herself and dresses herself and is verbal. (she's a chatterbox really, and loves to talk about her special interest especially--but knows there’s a time and a place.) she has friends that she talks to regularly. she has a bachelor’s degree, and held down a job while she was in college, and also lived in an apartment and paid her own rent and utilities. she thrives on routine and her attention to detail comes in very handy for her degree-related internship. she’s paying off her student loans by herself. she doesn’t have very many sensory issues. she can navigate public transport, do her own shopping, and make her own medical appointments. she struggles with socializing and sometimes misses jokes or takes people too literally, but she’s very good at reading facial expressions and has mastered sarcasm. she often stims in subtle ways. she doesn’t make a fuss over foods with bad textures. she has a fantastic memory for things that interest her and has a knack for quoting things verbatim. she has hyperempathy. she shuts down when she’s upset or overwhelmed. she has mild auditory processing disorder, but she’s able to follow lectures and podcasts.  she often uses overly formal language, but she can articulate herself very well. she’s not a huge fan of touch, but she’ll accept and give hugs if people ask. she expresses affection for her loved ones both verbally and nonverbally all the time. she often passes for neurotypical.

peter often forgets to feed himself unless he’s prompted, if he doesn’t have anywhere to be he’ll often wear the same clothes for over a week straight, and he almost never brushes his teeth or combs his hair without prompting. he often can’t talk to new people, even if he really wants to or needs to. he hasn’t spoken out loud to someone who wasn’t family or his therapist in weeks, and before that it was months. he often struggles to talk fluidly at all. he lives with his mom. he needs reminders for very basic and very important tasks alike. he doesn’t have a job. his sensory issues are very noticeable to anyone who sees him, and his food-related sensory issues in particular make his diet very limited. he struggles to hold a back-and-forth conversation, and swings wildly between staring and avoiding all eye contact. he handflaps all the time, when he’s anxious or when he’s excited, and he’s always rocking and pacing and bouncing. when he was younger, his screaming meltdowns often lasted longer than 18 hours. now that he is older, they tend to be much shorter, but he still hurts himself during them--bites himself hard enough to leave marks, and scratches himself, and punches himself, and smacks at his head, and slams his head into walls. if someone touches him when he is overwhelmed, he’ll often lash out and hit them. he is very bad at remembering things that don’t interest him, and will sometimes forget things that do interest him. he often goes rigid when people try to hug him, and is almost never able to hug anyone even if he really wants to--for example, if they are crying and he wants to comfort them. he is low-empathy. he almost never tells his family that he loves them. he is very visibly autistic.

which of them is high-functioning, and which is low-functioning? traci and peter respectively, right?

wrong. they’re the same person. specifically, they’re both me. and--and this is very important--they’re not me in different situations, or me with different levels of support, or me on different days. they’re both me at the exact same time.

i feed myself, yes--but i have to set myself alarms to remember to do it, and even that doesn’t always work. i dress myself, yes--but i don’t always change my clothes, and i struggle with basic hygiene. i talk, sure--but not to new people, and often not even to people i’ve met several times. it makes me anxious and that makes me extremely reluctant to make the words go. even when i’m not anxious, my speech is often stilted--i’ll talk at a million miles an hour and then stop abruptly because i’ve forgotten the words i want. and then i’ll flap my hand and remember them and start chattering again. and then i’ll stop bc i’ll have forgotten the words. and this will happen again and again and again, several times over the course of a single conversation. all my friends are long-distance; i haven’t managed to make a new friend in-person since...middle school? barring a few acquaintances in high school. i lived on my own for the last 2 years of college, but i’ve moved back home since and haven’t been able to pick up a job--and only recently an internship. i can do big important things some of the time but i need reminders to pay bills and to eat and to do chores and take care of myself. i don’t have many sensory issues, but the ones i do have are obvious and i can’t hide them; i flinch noticeably at noises that are either sudden or unpleasant, and there are many foods i can’t eat without gagging and stimming super wildly (and while i don’t complain about them, i do quietly elect to Just Not Eat Anything if they’re all that’s offered, and that is often noticed & commented on). i can socialize in small doses, and i’m pretty good at social skills that many autistics struggle with, but i can’t hold a conversation for very long, and even my short ones end up stilted or one-sided or both. i have a lot of subtle stims i use, but i use them right alongside obvious ones, and i’m very bad at stopping the obvious ones even when i notice i’m doing them. (have y’all ever tried not rocking back and forth? that shit’s hard.) i have hyperempathy for objects sometimes, and low empathy for people almost always. i get very quiet and withdrawn when i’m certain kinds of upset--and that behavior’s often paired with crying and biting myself. when i’m other kinds of upset, i explode and hurt myself--and then get very quiet and withdrawn. it’s very rare that one happens without the other. i can listen to podcasts but i have to be doing something at the same time, otherwise it turns into noise soup. i use formal language and can articulate myself well, but only in writing or only if i’ve prepared extensively beforehand. out loud, i struggle to find the words for what i really mean, and to keep conversations steered in the general directions i want them to go; as a result, i often end up saying things to the left of what i actually mean. i can do hugs, but i prefer not to, and i’m super noticeably bad at them. i don’t know how to comfort people in-person. i verbally express affection all the time, but i rarely use the words “i love you” to do so (those words are generally only used freely w/my tiny siblings, or w/other members of my immediate family as part of scripts). more often i’ll use a handsignal to convey “i love you” because that’s easier than saying it out loud, or i’ll poke someone, or i’ll kiss my finger and tap them, or i’ll give compliments! i can pass for neurotypical (most often in short bursts), but i often don’t (especially over longer periods of time, and especially especially when people know what to look for)

in sum--my autistic traits sound contradictory and impossible & like they can’t exist in the same person at the same time, but they can, & they do! in me, all the time, always. 

and it’s the same for others as well, just w/different combinations of traits, & that’s bc wow! autistic ppl are ppl! our experiences are varied & nuanced! our traits don’t exist in isolation & neither do we! incredible!!

& therefore: functioning labels are fucking bullshit & arbitrary & don’t tell u anything useful about a person

[queerontea]

Coming out and respecting pronouns

I'm really itching to come out to people, and I know that I need to.. but I'm also very nervous and afraid of their responses. Part of me feels like I have plenty of time and people won't even notice the subtle changes that will happen over the year.. but also I'm sure I will feel better once I do, it's such a weight on my mind. I'm afraid that my colleagues will think that I'm trying to get attention and won't understand the necessity of coming out for trans people.. but then again they seem to be pretty open minded so maybe that's unfounded.

I also need to talk to my family more about it... I've told my mum a year ago about my gender in vague terms.. it didn't feel like it went very well, I don't think I articulated myself very well as she called me about it and I'm bad on the phone, got upset etc etc. This time I need to be more confident and assertive in my explanations and decisions, and also tell her that I'm not comfortable communicating verbally about it. I find it hard to talk to my partners even about gender feelings. Then there's my dad... who has no idea. He has no idea about most of my life to be honest. I don't expect to get much of a response out of him so I just need to bite the bullet and get it over with.

Other people and family members feel like the biggest stressors when it comes to being trans. Like Ive accepted it myself and I understand how I feel and how I want to live my life... but explaining it to others who have no idea is like pulling teeth.

I said to myself that I would write emails to people this weekend, so I ought to get to it. Writing here helps me to get my thoughts out as part of the process. The thing I'm unsure of to do with work is pronouns.. because I dont know how familiar people are with they/them pronouns, and it feels like I'm expecting too much in a way.. but it's what I'm comfortable with and what I need.

I've been thinking about the use of the term 'preferred pronouns' and how that communicates that your gender is a preference and not a fact. Dr Seal asked what my preference was between she/he and I took a while to think.. she is familiar even if it is dysphoric.. he is alien to me as I've never used it. I know that if I 'look male' strangers will use he, and when occasionally people do assume that I'm a he at first glance, there's something validating in that and I like it. I'm not sure how I will feel if it starts happening more frequently and maybe it will be okay, but as far as my colleagues and partners and family, it feels wrong to me.

[ephemerlskies]

REPOSTED HERE

“Thanks for doing this for me.” The young artist had already begun mixing paints on his palette, eyeing the canvas before him to scale the size of his portrait.

Jimin was gentle with the way his eyes traveled along Taehyung’s face which was free from the age wrinkles that Jimin had grown used to seeing. He nodded as to say your welcome, a jaded but genuine smile reaching his lips to the ends of his face.

It was difficult to gauge which one was more nervous from how Taehyung had nearly knocked over his easel various times within the stretch of setting up his supplies and the lack of stillness that fraught Jimin’s hands which were trying, and failing, to fold politely in his lap.

“This is for an art project? For school?” Jimin asked, deciding that half-empty questions fit better in the air than the awkward silence funded by the lack of proper acquaintance. Not to say he wasn’t indeed curious about this whole ordeal.

“Yeah. My professor wanted us to have someone describe their significant other to us and we have to draw them based on the description! I hope I do your partner justice.” Jimin’s heart grew warmer when the enthusiasm from Taehyung’s voice made his intentions clear. He was an aspiring artist simply using his craft to procure something emotional and raw.

Jimin was the fortunate soul Taehyung had stumbled upon during his walk home. A single, elderly man sitting on a park bench, an appropriate setting for someone Jimin’s age, had aroused some curiosity in the younger man to strike up a conversation.

The slightly hung head, the pair of kind eyes trailing the various passersby, and the astounding hint of melancholy had colored Jimin in an entirely different light than anyone Taehyung had ever met.

Whatever his story was, Taehyung made it a goal to depict it with every bit of honesty and emotion he could engender from his paintbrush.

“I think it would be hard to make anything of ___ look bad." Jimin assured, feeling his shoulders fall away from his ears and his hands finally rest atop his lap.

“___? Is that her name?” Taehyung repeated it internally a few more times in an attempt to imagine what you looked like before Jimin started on his description.

He looked over to the older man, picturing an older woman sitting beside him on that park bench. His mind meandered to what kinds of things you two would talk about, or if you two were the type to construct a haven in sweet silence. Maybe Jimin would say something that would make you laugh and you would join in on the repartee with ease.

What made you laugh? How many times have you been on a plane? Did you like the color yellow? What was your favorite genre of music? What made you cry?

The questions began to bundle like a colorful bouquet of diverse flowers, waiting to be delivered into the hands of a loved one.

“Yes. Beautiful right?” Jimin’s smile faded a bit, the only evidence of it expressed through a slight curve sitting at the ends of his mouth and the crow’s feet incising his skin much more prominently than the rest of his wrinkles.

“Very beautiful.” Taehyung decided to arm himself with one of his finer brushes. He could already feel the unwavering desire to capture the most intricate of details partly for a good grade in this class but partly for the sake of keeping true to his word.

He wanted to do you and Jimin justice. To make this nothing but ornately accurate.

“How would you describe her facial structure?” The artist positioned his arm with his brush in hand, ready to dispatch the ink amassing at the tip of the synthetic hairs to the white, empty canvas.

“Soft. Perfect to fit into my hands.” Jimin stared down to the mentioned body parts, reminiscing the countless times he would scoop your face between his palms for no reason at all other than to revere your beauty. “Round cheeks. Smooth and warm skin.”

Taehyung couldn’t resist how the pang in his heart reflexively surfaced a fond smile in reaction to Jimin’s endearing description. He peeked away from the canvas before making any initial marks and gathered the loving gaze Jimin had been directing towards his matured hands cupped around the empty space that should have been your face. Then, he knew exactly which set of emotions he should embed into this portrait.

“What about her eyes, what do they look like?” Taehyung asked to acquire another image of how he should paint you, while already outlining the basic curves of a head that would quote unquote fit perfectly in Jimin's hands.

“They were kind. They always had this sparkle in it. A real sparkle, like she trapped the moonlight in her eyes.” Suddenly, Jimin's lungs were not merely occupied with air, but with an oxygenated memorial of your eyes which made his inhalations feel weighted. “They were bright and always looked at me with trust and care. Even when they had tears in them, you could have mistaken those for diamonds.”

The image was stark in his own eyes, and if he closed them then he could have been transported back seventy years to when your wedding vows were announced to the world. How your eyes looked at him and glimmered an overwhelming beauty that nearly evaporated the over-rehearsed words from his memory. Before you could roll those moonlit pupils at his fall to silence, he hastily declared the oaths that bound his heart to yours forever as if he couldn’t stand a second longer keeping those promises in.

“Were?” Taehyung articulated thoughtfully as he could with clear indication to question the past tense manner of Jimin’s narrative.

“Yeah. She has passed.” It was still difficult to feel those words ordered as such verbalized by his tongue. They tasted bitter and stale, as if they had been waiting somewhere inside to be recognized.

He wasn't aware of how his hand was now placed against his chest until he felt the heavy throbs of his tired organ. Through this, it might be that he was searching for your heartbeat that he could once identify through the his own.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Sir.” Taehyung’s hand almost fell away from the canvas, until reality restored his maneuvers and continued the lining of your face.

His focus was oscillating from the mostly white canvas, save for the thin strokes of black, to the man uncoated from his reserve through the smile that deepened the indentations of his face.

“Jimin. Call me Jimin.” He said, breaking whatever ice that froze the two of them in discomfort. That nervousness had melted away with the minutes until they both felt warm and comfortable.

“Okay, Jimin, could you describe anything else about her? It doesn’t have to be physical. This is more about emotion.” Taehyung’s brush had been hard at work, dutifully printing every hint of love that Jimin relayed and materializing it onto the portrait.

“Her smile was warm. The biggest one you would ever see. I swear, everyone she met noticed it. It was genuine. It was the smile of someone who never had mal intent and always ready to share her happiness to all those around her. Seeing it every day, it reminded me that, with her, I was always home.”

From the day he met you, eye contact was a difficult task to compass since your smile had always demanded his full attention. Each time you flashed your grin, he felt as if it was purposeful, the extension of your joy onto him. The way you made him feel every bit of bliss you felt because you were the type to believe everyone, especially Jimin, deserved to feel happy.

And each time he was endowed witness to your smile, it articulated his goal in life quite clearly: molding his actions into a kindle for your smile and doing everything in his humble power to cherish those angelic beams of joy.

“Whenever she would smile, your day would get a little bit better. And I was lucky enough to spend most of my life with her, so my days always got better. She always smiled. Like she knew how much it meant to me.”

“Sounds like ___ was very happy.” Taehyung said during the interval of giving shape to your lips. What remained on the canvas was the widest smile Taehyung could craft, knowing it was not nearly as big as the one Jimin described.

“She was. She was sad too, and angry. You did not want to see her angry, let me tell you.” A chuckle had fallen from his mouth as he postured the memory of your scowl to the forefront of his recollection. How you would equip this number when Jimin would do something particularly dumb, or when your kids were being scolded for reasons that didn’t seem as important now.

There was nothing that compared to how you could emote with your entire face in a poise that suggested your feelings willed your every movement. How you would scrunch your nose and your eyebrows would reach the middle of the space between them; the frown of your lips would pull your entire face lower. He would take your anger seriously at the time, but in retrospect, he would give anything to see that disgruntled expression again.

And he would simply smile, and perhaps snap a photo for a keepsake.

“I hope she was happy most of all. That’s all that matters, Taehyung. Make the ones you love happy. I hope I did that well enough.” Jimin began to question if he made you happy. One day, when he joined your parted soul, he would find that out for himself.

He knew beyond doubt that you had accomplished sparking joy into people's lives simply by being you.

“I will. That’s good advice, Jimin.” Taehyung made himself present in his wonders about you, despite how he was absent from your life.

From the way Jimin described you, he fully understood that Jimin wasn't speaking from the functions of a brain. The portion of his mind that conducted speech could have been rejected entirely. These words, the thoughtful description, the sentiment flowing from his voice were sourced straight from the heart.

One that felt incomplete without its other half.

“Do you miss her?” He had to inject a bit of courage in this question in the hopes it wouldn’t be overstepping any boundaries. Though, Jimin was ever so gentle with the way he moved through life and met Taehyung's requests with kindness so far.

“Very much.” A stout crack fissured through Jimin’s voice and prompted him to swallow down the sob ruminating in his throat. “I miss her more than anything in the world. More than the flowers miss the spring and wait for winter to pass so they may bloom again. These days, I’m just waiting for spring.”

Jimin had intertwined his hands together, pretending it could fill the hollow space of his palms just as well as your hands would. He knew though, this was an emptiness that would always remain unfulfilled the minute your heart stopped beating with his.

“It will come. Soon enough. She’s waiting for you too, I’m sure.” And your flower will bloom. Taehyung created the contours of your eyes and paid a sizable amount of attention to depicting that highly emphasized sparkle.

What would a painting of you be without those acclaimed glints of moonlight floating in your irises? It wouldn’t be a painting of you at all.

“Do you have a special someone in your life right now?” Jimin took over the role of the questioner and placed Taehyung in the position of the questionee. It was enough for now to repair his composure.

“Not at the moment, no.” The majority of his focus was fixed on the painting but spared just enough to answer Jimin’s inquiry.

“Well, whenever you find them, I hope you appreciate the small things. I never knew how much the small things mattered until ___ was gone. Like how she notoriously had every barista put extra cinnamon on her coffee drinks. When I would forget to add it, she would pretend to be mad at me. She'd roll her eyes and tell me I’m ‘losing it’ or she would say something dramatic like ‘what has this world come to, Park Jimin?’” His pause filtered the room with a peaceful property.

Jimin utilized the silence to ponder the moments he once hadn’t given as much as a second thought to. The same moments that would entrap him in a catatonic gaze on rainy days or during cold, lonely nights.

“She would still drink the whole thing, though. She was kind in that way. Never really letting those things go unappreciated.” His eyes fell to the floor, though he was not seeing the weathered carpet spread across the substructure. He saw none other than your eyes.

The moonlight he had the privilege of viewing up close and personal, and uncrowned the orbiting rock in the sky of its esteemed title.

“Now every time I see cinnamon, I think of her. Of her peculiar love of it and even though she loved cinnamon so much, she’d love the effort I put in even more. She always loved me generously.” There had been friction within Jimin’s throat that made it warm and swollen ever since he started talking about you. His words dislodged through labored projections, but his voice overtly strewn hints of sorrowful longing in each statement.

“She sounds very loving. I can’t imagine how lucky it was that you met her.” Though his eyes were trained on pressing the delicate illustrations of your face onto the canvas, his ears were employed in listening intently to Jimin.

He had no idea who you were, however, he was sure he too would have fallen in love. Of course, anyone would have done so through the perception of someone who had devoted his entire heart and life to loving you.

“How long were you two together?” He asked to obtain an addition to his bouquet of knowledge about you.

“We were married for seventy years but we dated for three years before that.” Jimin’s eyes were not alone anymore.

They loaded quite a collection of tears, barely keeping at the bay of his eyes, and the vision of your face when he proposed that the two of you should seal your love through something as trivial as a diamond ring.

It was irrational, not only the fact that pricey luxuries such as rings were well beyond his budget. Jimin knew that embellishing a silver band on your finger would not be enough to earn a lasting relationship or settle your commitment to him. A piece of jewelry could not entail the immense love harbored in his chest. The proposal wasn’t the end of a happy story, rather the beginning of a lifetime to learn and unlearn the elements of loving you.

Even the bumps in the road, knocking him or you away from each other, were never enough to conclusively sever the connection. Dedication and work knotted your heartstrings together. The biggest bump, your death, was the final blow that nearly disentangled them.

Nearly. But when Jimin said ‘until death do us part’ he never realized that vow held some false hope. Of course, he wouldn’t let you go, or rather he couldn’t let you go, even after you passed away. It wasn’t that easy when his heart synchronized with yours the moment he fell in love with you and he already decided to become someone who was worthy of loving you.

Now he was that man. Someone who matched the degree of kindness you always provided him. The man who would disregard any prior engagements if you called and needed him, rest assured you would do the same for him. The man who proudly held your hand, knowing the world envied him. The same man that was cultivated through growing beside someone that cared for every part of him, down to her last breath.

In that way, death was never a contender to part him from you.

“Wow.” Taehyung was not sure of how else to elaborate how genuinely impressed he was. “What's the secret? How did you manage to stay together for seventy years? I mean, people these days get divorces like it’s a quit button you can press when you get tired of playing the game.”

Jimin, despite the teary glaze over his eyes, pulled a laugh from his throat. Without warning, he fell into the trench of all the long-forgotten fights bred from pettiness or misunderstanding. Many of them were over financial or familial issues. And with the lens of a seventy-year perspective, Jimin traded shallow grudges for an important realization that certain things remain standing after the dust settles.

“We would fight. A lot, actually. Even in those perfect relationships, people always fight. But I remember now, if it were a fight over money or anything else that was expendable, there wasn’t a question in my mind of which to choose. Between the world and ___, I always choose her. I always choose love. It’s more important than anything because when you truly love someone, you want to understand them. You want to work through problems instead of leaving them to pile up and collect dust.”

Jimin’s eyes now settled on Taehyung, who had already been staring at Jimin, then continued with all the sincerity he could deploy.

“Taehyung, always choose them. Choose love. I know I did and I have no regrets. I know if I chose to stay angry at her, I would be wrestling to forgive myself.”

Taehyung’s face muscles felt tired, his smile’s permanence hadn’t allowed for them to rest.

“Anger, annoyance, frustration, jealousy? Those all fade away. In a week or a month, you’ll stop being angry at some point, but you will never stop being in love. So choose love. It’s a permanent fixture in your heart.”

Taehyung set his brush down, and the picture resting on the easel was completed and then some. He didn’t mind. Taehyung truly enjoyed the sentiments Jimin kindly shared with him, as it would have been far duller to paint in silence.

Not to mention, he discovered a love story that went untold by movies and fairytales. It was a true love story. Something so real, Taehyung fell in love just by capturing Jimin’s tale and translating it into visual art.

Because this image of you was what Jimin saw when he pictured you. The picture of you shrouded in abundance by the highest grade of love.

“I’m finished, would you like to see?” Taehyung lifted the canvas from its resting spot, turning it slowly since Jimin’s nod was geared with apprehension.

Jimin’s heart nearly bore a hole through his chest, and it would fall out to where you were resting. He was afraid of facing you, or any rendition of your face, since it would be the first time in two months that his eyes beheld anything resembling his late wife.

When the canvas turned, so did the final page of the story. The story Jimin had been purposefully writing with long-winded prose and repetitive words to stall the commencement of it. He wasn’t ready to let go, that is until his eyes beheld the painting which etched fruition of something that felt further from him than you.

Closure.

“It’s beautiful.” Jimin’s tears were disobediently running down his cheeks. “It looks exactly like her. My love. My ___.”

It was not simply a painting garnished under the guise of an academic assignment, but an ode to the grand love Jimin had carried in his heart for seventy years and counting.

“I’ll be sure to send it to you after it’s graded.” Taehyung declared in a decided manner, now fighting back tears of his own, though it was a losing battle since he already felt the empathetic stains wetting his face.

“Thank you.” Jimin whispered soft enough that Taehyung barely caught it, but loud enough that his gratitude glazed the painting with its finishing touch: acceptance.

Now it was time to let go.

“___.” He said once more.

Jimin realized what could emerge even after your physical existence had run dry. That, even though you were no longer alive, there was a ceaseless supply of lessons Jimin still learned from loving you. He learned he could guiltlessly reflect over the years and memories. Resonating the most with him were the ones he spent choosing something more powerful and decisive and resilient above all else. Choosing love.

It colored his world into something vibrant and enchanting. There was still an unquantifiable amount of love pouring from his chest without a hint of diminishing. It was a force that stretched its reign beyond graves and long, lonely years of mourning. This love was alive, and breathing joy into Jimin’s life. It would continue breathing joy into Taehyung’s life as well as the painting, marred with your semblance.

He also realized you can never fully fall out of love. Just as pain never departs, and one simply learns to live with it, to become stronger and versed in the realm of sorrow, one never falls out of love, you simply learn to live without them; you learn to trudge on without the deity that derived something as powerful as love through the biggest smiles, the glistening eyes, the heaps of cinnamon, the unremitting kindness, and the perpetual act of choosing love.

And that the beauty of loving you was no more breathtaking than the beauty of after you.

[edwinavde862-blog]

10 Apps to Help You Manage Your dating sites free

I am the following was CEO and founder of magnet, the newest dating app that everybody else is talking about that you just have to purchase, and we're talking about. Everybody's favorite subject, not simply ours. Everybody else, which can be gender. Hey, let's talk about sex, baby.

I want the entire movie coming from 50 shades darker. Uh, this may be the entire thing that like has women running to the movie theaters and purchasing their books and. Investing their nights with their Kindle. And so we want to talk about sex and what it's really is about all this. It truly is driving girls crazy. Um, however I have a really interesting question to ask you.

U M, in the movie, the first person, um, this girl resembles, maybe not, she is, she's a Virgin. She has certainly not had sexual activity. And he opens this up whole new world of sexuality for her. So she moves from like this girl who's never ever had sexual intercourse to a exact sexual person. Just how is it, there's a whole lot of girls. We fight a great deal with body image.

Now we view Photoshop girls. That's interesting. Okay. Girls are smarter. They don't presume that's, uh, the physical aspect is equally as important as men think of females. Sure. So there is this stress on females to like have an ideal human anatomy.

So, once it comes to. Sex and we are buttoned naked and it's really like a man wants to access your entire body. Like there is all of this such as hidden resembles, ah, I really don't want to show him this. Turn off the lighting, and it just starts getting really awkward. How can a man make a woman feel comfortable with your own entire body? Was gender could return from .

So that it's a, honestly, a way at that point look at this man is really okay with her own body regardless supposing it is the standard she's looking for or it's really not. Uh, so of course, uh, revealing appreciation, showing up preachers like, wow, that's, uh, actually for the, uh, years tile down there. Much like, it is like the true luxury too.

But when you're naked, that purpose is like, Oh, that's so impressive. And revealing and with wards and we'd askwe enjoy exhibits. You're not, like, ah, it is not the thing. My more like at that point, if you should be each more than the name, therefore get to this pleasure. Honestly, if she wants to have the lights off or enjoy the light go foryou personally, do not ask.

Lights all the time. Yeah. That's the you want to ease the woman into a situation in which she's comfortable. So it is perhaps not, it can possibly be uh, it could take a little while to receive there. So all the seduction part until the date, make an effort never to eat too much, you knowit goes like an imbalance. So in the event you select a date, maybe reimbursement cheese, however not really going like a complete hour.

And Trey, we that the very first, next, third party . You can keep that for days 2 or later. The first period you'll not just drink sir icon. It's a great tool. Don't care too much at that point. Thus no, say, yeah, they're drunk or get yourself drunk. That's stupid glass of wine. Because the wine, it is interesting as a kind of article, you know, each I Will call these different ismagic and pressure.

I was reading articles about how precisely actually ladies, women are moaning into Hawaiian. It's, we're becoming in our sexual point at which you are much more like open talk about

The past out of a taste, obviously, and I'll visit a force, but that's usually a very good way to ask a lady out is like, Oh, so you're enjoy a wine or beer? I am more into one. Oh, flawless. I know. It is a. Wine barthat you understand, he's my company. Yeah. I discovered that with, um, me feeling more comfortable with my body. You will find just two items that a man could do to me.

One particular was verbalization, verbalizing such as, Oh my God, your skin is so soft. It's like lace. You look phenomenal. U M. I really love. I remember a guy, '' he was fact with my wrists of all things, and we were S we're sitting at a bar and he'd proceed, Ohmygod, here is definitely the most beautiful rest.

Did that appropriate? No explanations. Correct. Your self in a situation where by the, we were already seeing each other. Yeah. We were some reason, I am obviously that element of signature awakened me, however, it was a verbalization of just like. Paying attention for the details of the entire body and calling them out and speaking about these.

For me personally, that as a woman made me feel almost like proud of the physique. We cling to communication and also the story telling video, so it's important to describe her. Okay, I'd like to see. Ask her to coach she anyplace because you're really enjoyable way too. And people who treated her like as a sheet of meat, but like, Oh wow.

I mean that this masterpieces, thing of art that you simply have to uncover and see every element and it's important to be confident your self. Otherwise it is like, Oh, okay. He is. Like, perhaps not sure. Maybe it's me. So she is like a mirror. You need to project mild so as to get life back, you understand? So that's critical.

You'll ought to be comfortable in your kid by means of your human body again, even if it's maybe not to start our standard at this point. It truly is like, Hey, it is what it's. So like, yeah, that's me. And at this time, again, alcohol is really a useful. Especially, if that you do not have an excessive amount of experience. Which means that you have to fake, you have to fake, uh, feeling confident.

But again, in case you are not convinced, she isn't probably not likely to become because of you and vice versa. And as a woman, probably, you need to be, really feel convinced in sequence to have the man. Therefore that it's similar to a, it's a teamwork at that stage, you know? S O. You move ahead that there eventually. That's why dating is equally important is only find the work you want or you don't like.

It's probably planning to change over the years to last to really experienced amongst communication and, um, events and expertise for this person. You are not getting exactly what you are looking for.

Oh, we then code join as a result of an DL appetite and what we want there. Some times they are the same. Some times there are many different, but that's, it really is hard on another topic. Therefore that the other point I identified using them was also this, this also made me feel really comfortable in my physique. I notice a big difference from adult men have been merely like, such as, woo, it is exciting to a man who was just like very present and at the moment.

That was tremendous. That for me personally, because I wish I had the words to articulate it, but it made me really feel like this. Prize ownership that he was simply sohe just completely adored and like I can, as a woman, you can feel that people're very intuitive and that I can truly feel that the difference between a man who is very gift and what he is doing with me and together with my physique.

And if a man's like freaking out, I am merely like, be careful because placing a woman on a pedestal is important at the suitable moment. Correct? Therefore you put it goes into them, such as these guys like maintain me over. You understand? That's the reason you find yourself in a pal . But in case it's, there is a point where you're the two intimated.

Yes, that's perfect.

Great man. Thing resembles, Oh, so you are my queen. So. That's actually accomplishing precisely the alternative. Yeah. I haven't earned that right on your life. So that the fact that you are committing me it , '' I something feels weird about it particular. Yeah. Probably such as again, you would need that. And EO. Idon't, I really don't want to have to babysit someone.

I want some body to function as man. Idon't understand. Yeah. Pretending you're maybe not interests. It's part of this game of seduction, but proper you're at the bedroom, then you have to turn it like, okay, you are the only one that I care about today. You are my queen today, though she wants to become some times, actually, again, it's about communication.

Many girls, they want to take her, you understand the training to take charge and take control. Only ask maybe again in something you are not okay together with, and that means you're not the right match. I will back up some. You said act like you're not interested, that that's part of seduction. Idon't know if I agree with that.

I have never ever been with a man that gave me personally that game. When I felt that game, I would just, I would be like, I really don't have enough time because of it . Females are instinctive.

It is nothing like an ideal strategy. But again, instead of being neediness, no, the neediness. So it must really be something at the center show attention, however at exactly the same time, you convinced you're not desperate. Yeah. My estimation, it really is better to upbeat, blow off arise because the series is still utilized. Are you okay? I did. These additional men are similar to all within mepersonally, but these men can ignore him.

Do not you think there is a balance so that you do not have to, but you don't have to be more meaty. There is some thing in the center. More at the middle, in my own opinion, is similar. Choosing the correct time of utilizing your flirting Nez and will likely be treated and time is everything. It really is like a humor to know in the event the joke is not arriving at the right moment.

It's going to making you laugh regardless how good it is. Thus understand how busy that this man or woman is. I always into you and try to understand just like, okay, if I contact her? Tend not to play with the game. However, the exact same time gone. Don't resemble a slave. Right? So what exactly would, what can we wrap it up together in terms of whatexactly, what https://naughtyfriendgirl.com are the ultimate third, what will you say are the top three ultimate things that a man can perform to get a woman having making her feel comfortable with her entire body?

Thus be comfortable yourself. Yeah. Be receptive to show that you're in charge if she wants to, however at the same time, you are open up about your emotions. You know, reveal enjoy your, let us say weak unwanted side, they're more like, that's amazingly sexy. Yeah. So that's again, another matter in which, properly guys are said to be, you know, masculine in and show why they ought to be allowed to cry.

Movies, you knowto complete matters that are thought of a woman and vice versa. We have been talking about gender, any former video, for example. She'll be able to talk about sexuality and a man who should be able to talk about thoughts. I totally agree. 100 percent those are not my remark leads. Pints at which you shouldn't be taking care of.

In the event you want to get a place in which your partner is, he is open to comfortable carrying out a sexual act. Yeah. Brilliantly said. Remember, make that app. It really is called magnet. It's the new dating app that every one's talking about. I have gotten to see it. It really is absolutely brilliant.

You are definitely going to love this. It truly is totally different from every thing else out there. Um, and therefore we will carry another video right back to those guys. All suitable. Thank you men. Bye. Bye.

[meditationadvise]

How to Be Mindful 24/7

" Let's play Ramona." Those three words from my six-year-old influence a deep inner cringe (that I try to be mindful of). "Ramona" is my daughter's invented doll game, based upon the precious timeless book Beezus and Ramona by Beverly Cleary. Beezus is the "great" sis-- the dutiful, courteous, compliant daughter, while Ramona is the "bad" little sis who secures a pet dog in the washroom, scribbles in collection books, and chefs her doll in the oven.

Mira, my little girl, has exercised the game to ensure that she is Beezus and I have to act out Ramona's voice, however, did I discuss? Ramona is a mermaid doll with pink hair. Ramona endangers to do awful things like spray paint on the wall, struck individuals actually hard, and also pee on the rug. Beezus/Mira responds with horror and admonitions at Ramona's plans, and always manages to prevent the wicked intents. "Ha-ha Ramona, you cannot pee on the carpet since I sprayed magic fairy dirt on it!" "Rats," claims Ramona.

My mostly agreeable little girl is plainly delighting in acting out her shadow side, or a minimum of enjoying it acted out by me. For this reason I am ready to play this game, although that I essentially dislike it.

In order for me to play this video game all the time, I count on my best relational mindfulness abilities. I provide my little girl (as well as the dolls) a deep presence. When I get distressed or bored, which is the majority of the moment, I collaborate with my emotions. When I space out, I bring myself into today moment. I attempt to reveal up with credibility and love.

Whether or otherwise you have a child, all of us are relating, frequently. Whether it is to our companion, associates, friends, next-door neighbors, or the individual at the blog post workplace, being with an additional human being is an unbelievable possibility to exercise mindfulness, as well as we obtain to do it all the time long.

At the Mindful Recognition Study Facility, we call techniques that involve taking mindfulness "off the padding" (although most of us being in chairs) and out into the globe of talking, listening, and interacting, "relational mindfulness." Commonly mindfulness pupils claim they do not have time to exercise mindfulness in the midst of their hectic lives, but if they were to bring mindfulness right into the countless verbal communications they have throughout the day, they can be practicing mindfulness 24/7.

No one has to know what you are doing. It's a type of "stealth" mindfulness-- you could practice all day long and no one will know.

In a culture that is currently deifying interference, where people reside in a state of overwhelm, where virtual existence is considered equally as useful as actual visibility, where two-year-olds are proficient at apples iphone, where at any restaurant on any type of provided day you will see an entire family members overlooking each other while pecking at their gadgets, relational mindfulness could be a radical act, both directly and culturally.

When my colleague Dr. Marvin Belzer and I initially started showing these practices, it was with teens and university student. In among Marv's very early meditation classes at the college-level, he discovered that numerous of his students connected with a fundamental reflection method, yet some just really did not click with it. Maybe they were bored or uneasy, or really felt as well distressed to sit still. As soon as he started to present relational practices, consisting of speaking as well as listening in dyads and also triads, small groups, and also bigger team techniques, he found these hard-to-reach trainees were unexpectedly "obtaining" mindfulness. Students discovered they can focus on the here and now quickly while hearing their peers. They unwinded into an all-natural state of existence, without a great deal of initiative. And also it started to have causal sequence in their lives. While Marv continuouslied highlight the value of regular quiet meditation technique, particularly as an assistance to these relational practices, he knew by the trainees' responses that he was on to something.

Of program he was not the only one trying out such practices. We understand several various other instructors, coworkers, as well as buddies that have actually originated these kinds of practices, and also over the years we have been affected by different approaches varying from within the mindfulness area as well as the treatment world, to workshops on intimacy.

What we have actually found is relational mindfulness methods enable for a two-fold procedure. An all-natural, effortless mindfulness could arise as well as be sustained via these techniques, coupled with a deep exploration of our inner life, all assisted in via the existence of a caring witness/listener. When an individual offers their complete existence to an additional, without jumping in or aiming to take care of or transform the other's experience, amazing things could happen. And also via the high quality of attention provided to an additional, intimacy is cultivated. People feel seen, recognized, also in a dramatically short time. Often we exercise these dyad workouts for only a minute and also a half but people report intimacy, connection, as well as deepness. So how do we practice it?

Learn to Listen

Here's exactly what I see about paying attention these days. A lot of us are not so efficient it. Exactly what do we generally do when we're paying attention? Allow's put aside the increasing occurrence of individuals on their mobile phones Instagramming or texting when you're attempting to tell them something essential. Every person does other (often) subtler as well as similarly frustrating points: We reduced individuals off, we enter and attempt to "repair" people. We transform the discussion toward us considering that although what they are informing us is necessary, when the exact same thing occurred to me last Thursday it was sort of remarkable and just wait till you hear just how I managed it! We're responsive as well as lost in our responses rather of genuinely paying attention. Or we show up to be paying attention however our mind isn't really absolutely on it: Now was that dress white as well as gold or blue as well as black? ... oh, exactly what were you saying?

Yet we have actually all had the experience of being listened to by an excellent listener. There is an apparent outcome: we really feel listened to as well as recognized as well as truly seen. That individual may understand nothing regarding mindfulness, yet they are a mindful listener.

The guidelines above may be basic, but individuals have to practice them to find exactly what will certainly work best for each and every individual. Some individuals take a mindful breath once in a while. Some individuals periodically observe their feet touching the ground, or their hands on their lap, or their back versus the chair. Any physical feeling that can be easily seen and also gone back to will certainly function. For some people it could be a continuous awareness, nonetheless, for the majority of people it functions as a periodic tip to instantly come back to the present.

When I'm playing Ramona, I utilize my body to help me concentrate. I maintain my interest on my child, when I notice feelings of monotony emerging, I note them--" there's dullness"-- then go back to my center while articulating Ramona's most current escapade.

Speak Skillfully

Perhaps it's an understatement to claim we reside in a globe that is in brief supply of conscious speech, so we do not truly have clear models to go on. I specify mindful speech as speaking authentically from our heart. Usually we simply open our mouths and also let whatever comes out appeared. One friend utilized to call this "tiny mouth sounds." Frequently we talk when we want to load the area, when we're uneasy, when we don't understand just what else to do. With conscious speaking, nevertheless, words are spoken to a little bit much more treatment and also intentionality.

We could after that, every so often, verbalize exactly what it is we bear in mind. And this recognition can aid increase the ability to be a lot more mindful. For circumstances, if I'm having a discussion with a person and it's making me disappointed, I could explain in words, "Wow, I see irritation arising in me as we're chatting." This is not stated in a blaming means: "You're pissing me off!" It's regarding making mindful just what's taking place inside and after that expressing it to enhance the connection.

This requires time and technique to do masterfully, so I don't suggest delving into it. Simply begin to grow the internal awareness when you're chatting, as well as periodically make some aspect of that recognition vocally specific. It does not need to be that sophisticated: "As we discuss this I see my cheeks are getting purged." "Wow, I'm mindful of just how worn out I remain in this moment." The speech both fleshes out the mindfulness and permits the act of speaking with aid you discover more about on your own as well as what's occurring in the here and now moment. It keeps an internal recognition alive.

In my situation, I could state to my child, "Hmm, I observe my tummy hurts when I consider playing Ramona, I think I'm a little distressed since we've played it a lot today. Yet I do intend to have fun with you so I'll take a deep breath. Allow's just play for 10 minutes."

Be Mindful 24/7

So exactly how would mindful talking as well as listening work in actual time? As I claimed previously, it's not always proper for every circumstance. Occasionally curt, business-like, rather separated speech or fast sidetracked listening is all you could round up, or you merely do not have the moment. That's fine. Just exercise when the conditions feel ideal to you.

But if you choose you desire to practice it, you have limitless opportunities throughout the day. Never again will certainly you have the reason that you have no time to exercise mindfulness.

First, it's important to obtain to know just how these concepts can run for you in the real world. Not everyone is mosting likely to use every standard, as well as it's most likely you'll adapt them creatively so they really function for you. You could find paying attention is a lot less complicated and also you have extra energy for that, as well as you could just desire to provide your existence while remaining linked to your feet. Or establish a purpose to speak authentically, maintaining understanding of your internal experience in a specific situation.

No one has to understand just what you are doing. I duplicate: No person has to recognize just what you are doing. It's a type of "stealth" mindfulness-- you could practice all day as well as no person will certainly know.

Here's just what it could appear like:

Come house after work and also really hear your companion duct, without judgment, interruptions, or taking it personally.

Stay existing throughout a conference and practice deep listening even when you don't feel like it.

When a person asks you how you are, instead of reflexively stating "great," or "busy," sign in with on your own, and see what's really taking place in the moment.

Get off your phone as well as fully involve with the check-out person at the grocery store store.

The possibilities are endless.

Although individuals won't understand, they will certainly really feel the influence. Time after time trainees go back to our classes sharing how they existed wherefore seemed like the initial time with a relative and just how the family members member said on it.

As you technique, the standards might really feel initially clunky, but gradually, as you make them your very own, they will concern really feel entirely regular, they will certainly begin to be 2nd nature as well as you will certainly have symbolized them. It takes a little time making it through the trying out phase, after that practicing consistently, however with time speaking and listening this way will certainly be just "that you are."

I am aware that one of the most important thing in my relationship with my child is how I am, not just what I state or do-- although clearly these points are important. If I can remain existing, open, and connected, even during playing Ramona, I can most likely do it anywhere.

Guidelines for Conscious Listening

1) Give the speaker your full attention. This is much easier said compared to done, however merely needs an intent to do so and a little bit of determination. We could supply our existence in an unwinded means, just being there for one more. Mindfully concentrate on the individual. Allow them be your primary things of awareness.

2) Utilize your body to assist you stay present. Our body is an extraordinary entrance right into the here and now moment. Our mind could be anywhere: previous, future, lost, responsive, spaced out, imagining, pondering, mad, anxious ... however our bodies are constantly in the here and now minute. If we can remember to bring our minds into our bodies-- simply really feel a body sensation or 2-- while we are paying attention, we have instant access to the present moment.

3) When your focus stray (as well as it will certainly) simply return it to the present moment, which means hearing them. This standard is similar to how we practice our resting reflection: We concentrate on our breathing or whatever is our main object, when our mind wanders-- and also it always roams-- we carefully, but firmly, return our focus to our breath. This aspect of the method must be acquainted to any individual that practices mindfulness meditation.

Guidelines for Conscious Speaking

1) Talk authentically from our heart. Can we learn how to talk in such a way that we feel linked to our psyches, to ensure that we are sharing what holds true? Now absolutely this has to be well-timed-- we're possibly not going to bare our spirit to the barista making our coffee. But we can, in proper moments, actively consult with more intentionality and link to ourselves.

2) As with mindful listening, we can constantly go back to our bodies to come back to the present moment. When our speech gets detached, rambling, unhelpful, shed, we could take a conscious breath, or discover our bodies standing or sitting (or whatever it's doing). This can return us to the here and now minute as well as potentially renew our connection to mindful speech.

3) We could always use speech itself in order to help us be more mindful. Once again, this is time-sensitive as well as not constantly ideal in every situation, and also it's rather depending on the second standard. If we are tuned in to our body, also a bit, we could be knowledgeable about our inner life as we speak. We can see our thoughts and also emotions as well as sensibly determine when to talk and when not to speak.

Practice: Attach in Conversation

Find an eager companion. Someone will certainly speak initial and the other will certainly pay attention-- begin by choosing who. In this exercise, the initial speaker will certainly talk for 90 seconds on the topic below. The audience could nod and also smile and also show that he/ she is interested, but not interrupt. After 90 seconds, call a bell and take a silent time out to feel the influence of listening or speaking because method. Reverse duties as well as let the other person talk for 90 secs. Ring a bell, take a time out, then reconnect for a few mins (without any policies!) to share what it resembled doing the workout and also to follow up on anything you want to ask or claim based upon what your partner shared.

Use the adhering to subject: "What brings me delight?" (or develop your very own!)

Listener

Give your full interest to the other person.

Become knowledgeable about your body (breath, feet, hands, and so on) once in a while to assist stay present.

When your focus wanders, bring it back to being existing with the person.

Speaker

Speak authentically regarding just what is real for you.

Become knowledgeable about your body (breath, feet, hands, and so on) every so often to assist remain present.

Occasionally verbalize just what you know as you are talking.