#we keep our own names we are Independent Ladies

[calisources]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on these meme make references to royal balls, medieval ballrooms or regency, basically set during any period drama. You can change names, pronouns, titles and more as you see fit. Most of these were taken from different source materials found via google search. This meme makes references to masquerades, royal dances and partners.

Dancing, at its best, is independence and intimacy in balance.

Dance is the timeless interpretation of life.

Music does not need language of words for it has movements of dance to do its translation.

Masks reveal. They don’t conceal. Masks reveal your cravings, your passion, your deepest most secret desires.

It was you. I know it was you.

Look at me, Kia! Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not her.

And who shall you be once you don your grand disguise?

I don't like to hear you talk about yourself that way. Your scars do not define you, young lady. Your action do.

All the ladies must dress the same and the men have to find their partners. It’s a game of sorts. 

Even the smallfolk have their own version of the ball, at the steps of the castle.

Swoon, Dora. Every young woman deserves to swoon over the love of her life.

Dash it, Everton, how'd you know it was me?

A masquerade could have been a beautiful dance. 

 Oh, well. What's a royal ball? After all, I suppose it would be frightfully dull, and-and-and boring, and-and completely... Completely wonderful.

Each finds a partner, and upon the bell, we must change partner until we find the one we came to be. . .or the one we desire.

It has been a while since you gave me the honor to dance with you.

If the princess is not too occupied, I would wish for a dance, perhaps?

The Queen and King have to open the ball but the King is gone. No mind, I shall be in his place.

Sometimes in life confusion tends to arise and only dialogue of dance seems to make sense.

If we want our men to dance, we have to inspire them. 

 But with something more, something bigger, something that will give them a reason to want to dance.

But when balls are held for pleasure, They're the balls that I like best.

Will you be my princess for the Ball?

Keeping pushing, Andrei, and you and I are going to play a game.

Nothing like a ball to cheer a nation, give the old lords wine and the young boys the opportunity to find a nice woman and everyone shows up.

Where are you taking me? The ball hasn’t ended.

Royals is like a beautiful, broken angel: hard to look at, but utterly impossible to turn away from.

Attend the royal ball in all your glory and find out what fate has in store for you.

How many dances is one allowed before people begin to whisper?

You cannot behave like a brute. It is my duty to dance with every suitor. I am their princess.

I do not recognize you, my lord? Are you from these lands? 

It is bad luck to steal a princess.

Attend the royal ball in all your glory and find out what fate has in store for you.

There is nothing quite like dancing in the moonlight. It sets your soul on fire and your heart aflutter.

The beauty of a ball is not just in its grandeur, but in the connections it sparks, the emotions it stirs, and the hopes it ignites.

Just keep your eyes on me. No one else here matters.

I shall keep dancing with you until you stop being stubborn and go speak with me. Or you rather have people whisper?

The princess looks beautiful tonight, does she not?

Father, please, you must dance as well. Your dull looks are making people bored.

You promised me a dance when you were better. Are you?

I've loved you at every dance, on every walk, every time we've been together and every time we've been apart.

I can feel people's eyes on me.

Every time I walk into a ballroom, I know they are comparing me to Daphne.

You both get to choose your passions and adventures, while my beloved is chosen by me. And now I must join them for a dance.

Are you planning on running away when the clock strikes midnight? 

If you do wish to go away, I know a spot, secluded enough.

You wish for me to go with you, alone, unchaperoned. I am a maiden, my lord. 

Aye, but I am no lord, sweet maiden. And these masks allow us some privacy.

This is my last chance to find a match on my own accord. If I don’t. The King will do it for me and I would rather not.

 I'm only a girl, not a princess.

Believe me - they're all looking at you.

 They're all looking at you.

You are requested and required to present yourself to your king.

 I do not even know if that beautiful slipper will fit But, if it does--will you take me as I am?

 It would be an insult to take you to the palace dressed in these old rags.

How charming, how perfectly charming.

When I go back, they will try to pair me off with a lady of their choosing. I'm expected to marry for advantage.

Oh. Well, whose advantage would this marriage be of?

I hope you don't find our kingdom too confining.

I am. An apprentice monarch. Still learning my trade.

Our prince seems quite taken with her.

She went straight for him. You have to appreciate her efficiency.

Walk into the room knowing you are the best. Shoulders back, chin up. Their attitudes will totally change.

You dance love, and you dance joy, and you dance dreams.

The ball is about to come to an end, and you have yet not told me your name. 

I thought we agreed we would remain strangers.

I’m afraid my true identity would put you in danger. 

Have you ever been kissed by a stranger at the end of a ball? If not, let me be the first.

Put him on all the invitation lists, he's a divine dancer.

I’m afraid I’m more used to swordfight than ballroom.

You will ruin your pretty gown, princess. I would not wish to step on your toes.

 Silly, I am a great dancer, no one ever steps on my toes.

No. Let them dance. Interrupting would cause a scandal.

One of these men will be my husband one day. What a thought.

The art of husband seeking at it’s peak, during royal ball season. 

Maiden beware, a gentleman can become a beast when the bell strikes.

[ageingfangirl2]

Let Me Help You Idiot! Hajime Kokonoi (Tokyo Revengers)

You met Koko when you were younger, and he took you under his wing. As an inspiring designer, you loved to make him nice clothes. As you get older, you want to be more independent, but Koko will always look out for you. Kokonoi x Reader (Bonten Timeline)

From the moment you were born, you had to fight tooth and claw to survive. Your dad left when you were three, leaving you and your mum with nothing. Your mum went back to being a hostess, meaning you were left alone in the single-room apartment you had. She was good at her job, earning lots of money and expensive gifts from suitors. But she had addictions and spent the money on drugs. From a young age, you had to fend for yourself and learn to survive, from clothing and making meals to keeping the apartment clean and ensuring mum put enough money aside for bills. Luckily, the neighbours took pity on you and helped pay for your school things, and one lady taught you how to sew, saying it would help you in the future to have a skill to pay the bills. You kept up your sewing throughout school, getting better and managing to sell some of your wares at a local market on the weekend.

This is where you met Hajime Kokonoi, and you took pride when he complimented the intricate details you embellished your clothes with. He decided you were going to be his personal designer in the future, and he was going to help you make a name for yourself.

PRESENT DAY

Koko kept his promise to help you, using his money and connections to get you into a good design school. All he asked in retum was you make all his clothes custom and free of charge, and of course you said yes because it was the least you could do. By now, he was on executive in Bonten, a criminal organisation and he liked to look nice because he had an image to maintain.

After working for a couple of designers, you saved enough to open your own shop in Tokyo, and it felt nice to pay with your our money instead of Koko's. Bonten kept Koko busy, so you didn't like bothering him unless he called you. You had one big problem, you had no real clue about money and expenses of running a business. And now you had to pay taxes on top of that, which went over your head. You chose to focus on commissions to make more money and filled in all the forms to the best of your abilities. Little did you know it would come back to bite you in the ass.

KOKO

I was busy dealing with the financial mess Sanzu had left for me after his last mission.

'I'm surrounded by idiots,' I groan, rubbing my temples.

'Err boss, I have the reports you asked for,' some lacky who's name I didn't deem important to lean stutters, standing in the doorway of my office. Even though y/n had paid for their shop and was getting quite a few comissions, I liked to keep an eye on them. They were a year younger than me and had become like a younger sibling I felt protective over. When we met up, we didn't talk about money, and I knew if they had a problem, they would come to me for help. However, my eyes widened, seeing the financial report in front of me.

'What the hell?' I gasp.

How could they be so careless when it came to finance? Firstly, they were paying way too much rent for the area, and secondly, the government wasn't happy with their taxes, which they had underpaid. They were close to losing their shop and facing a big penalty from the government who thought they were committing fraud.

I grabbed my jacket and car keys, needing to see them before the problem got out of hand. I run out of my office, ignoring Sanzu, having bigger fish to fry.

The light was still on in the shop when I pulled up outside. They liked to work late if they had a deadline. I enter the shop and the bell pings. I lock the door behind me and turn the open sign to closed.

'Hi, how can I help you - Koko, what are you doing here?' y/n stares at me, tilting their head to the side in confusion.

I walk over to the counter and put the file down in front of them, 'if you didn't understand, why didn't you ask me to explain?'

They open it, and the colour drains from their face, 'am I in big trouble? I thought I'd look dumb if I had to keep asking you to help me!'

I sigh loudly, 'yeah, well, you look pretty dumb right now, so that didn't work out for you.'

They look down at their feet and shuffle nervously, 'the last time we had coffee, you were stressed dealing with your colleagues' finances. I didn't want to give you any more stress, so I did what the internet told me to do filling out the forms. I'm sorry Koko. What do I do now?'

I walk and the counter and pull them into my arms. I didn't like to show emotion in front of the other executives, but y/n was the exception. I needed to protect them.

I kiss the top of their head, 'in the future don't take any extra comissions after you've submitted your taxes for the financial year until the new one starts or the govenment will think you're committing fraud. I'll get this sorted for you, and remember you can come to me whenever you need help.'

They squeeze me tightly, 'I'll never be able to pay you back, Koko. Sorry for being an idiot.'

I snort, you're the only idiot I can stand.'

Not wanting them to stress anymore, I'd also handle the rent problem for them, no one messed with the people close to me.

[polin-erospsyche]

Last thoughts for the road.

I’ve never been more excited and scared for a scene than I am for the carriage scene. I feel like in all the buzz around season three finally dropping after two years we haven’t really talked about this month of waiting between part 1 and 2. Sure we’ve guessed at the carriage scene and we’ve rejoiced at all the polin content we’ll get in the break but I’m truly scared of how wrecked we might be. Wrecked or angry, to be honest I’m not quite sure but I don’t trust the very end of ep 4. I feel like we’ll get so high that there’ll only be a low point after that because otherwise the show does not go on for four more episodes. And also we have to wait one month. One whole month to be in our feelings about this. So you know they’re not just going to let us off easy.

I’m not ready for the utter angst that we might get from this whole Lady Whistledown issue. We are talking about two people who are so so in love with each other. And they know that too probably, although it might not have been verbalised, but because it’s the beginning it will oh so delicate, even more so because they are friends discovering if they can be more for each other, wanting to be more for each other and there’s this huge secret creating a rift between them.

If she does keep it from him, which looks more and more likely to me, I need her to give him the choice when he finally learns about it. I need her to own up to who she is, apologies for what she’s written and how it might have hurt him but not for what and who she is. She is Lady Whistledown. Despite all the mistakes and errors, she is one hell of an amazing, independent and strong woman and I need to see her step fully into who she is and accept it and give him in turn a choice to either leave or to choose her, all of her. The mistakes, the hurt but also the warmth and love.

And while she’s giving him a choice I also desperately want for her to have a face a face with the queen. It is so important to me that she does that on her own though, without a betrothal or the name of the Bridgertons attached to her. I hope we get to see her step into her own self by herself and defend herself. Not in the snappy and hurt way she’s done at the end of season 2, but as the graceful and mature woman we know she becomes in season 3.

Anyway all this to say, I’m afraid of what we’ll get tomorrow as a cliffhanger. There are also things that I hope we get. Pen fully stepping into her power in a graceful, less harsh, manner than we’ve seen previously. Colin fully choosing her despite knowing all the dark sides to her, because that is how well he knows her and how much he loves her. Those are at the forefront of what I hope for.

[camillasgirl]

A speech by The Queen Consort at a ‘Violence Against Women and Girls’ Reception at Buckingham Palace, 29.11.2022

Your Majesties, Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Buckingham Palace as we gather on the fifth of the “16 days of activism against gender-based violence”.

These 16 days mark the UN’s annual campaign that runs from 25th November, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women, to 10th December, Human Rights Day.  Throughout the world, individuals and organisations are coming together to call for the prevention and elimination of violence against women and girls. Why?

Because over a period of 16 days, worldwide, more than 2,000 women will be killed by a partner or a member of their own family. Because, in England and Wales alone, during that same period, police will record that more than 3,000 women have been raped. And because up to 1 in 3 women across the globe will endure domestic violence in the course of their lifetime. Behind every one of these statistics lie individual stories of human suffering and heartbreak.

We are uniting today to confront, rightly, what has rightly been called a global pandemic of violence against women. Faced with such challenges, it can be hard to know what practical steps we can take to even begin to make a difference.

Over the years, in my previous role, I had the privilege of meeting many survivors of rape and domestic abuse; and of sharing in the sorrow of people who had lost family members to violence. And again and again, I heard that two of the most powerful ways in which to help were to remember and to listen.

We remember those women who have lost their lives at the hands of a stranger, or of the person who should have loved them best. In so doing, we refuse to be desensitised by cold facts and figures and we resolve to keep the names and the memories of these women alive. We remember Brenda Blainey, Mariam Kamara, Lucy Powell, Samantha Drummonds, Yasmin Begum, Sally Turner, Hina Bashir, Jillu Nash and her 12-year-old daughter Louise, to name but a very few of those who have been killed this year alone.  And we remember - because we cannot forget - all the other women and girls who died in similarly horrific circumstances.

These women, tragically, can no longer speak for themselves. But we listen to those who can. I have learnt from my conversations with these brave survivors that what they want, above all, is to be listened to and believed, to prevent the same thing happening to others. They know there is power in their stories and that, in the telling, they move from being the victims of their histories to the authors of their own futures.  

I have heard countless examples of the ways in which victims have become victors, using their experiences to hold out a hand to help others escape abuse. One such person, Vicky, left a violent relationship and her ex-partner was sent to prison.  Knowing what it was like to live in permanent fear, she started working for the police, supporting victims and witnesses of crime. Today, she is an Independent Domestic Violence Adviser and says of herself, “There is life after abuse. I am evidence of that”.  

Ladies and gentlemen, your vital work is, in the same way, evidence that there is life after abuse. You are also evidence that we can have hope as we head towards our goal of ending violence against women and girls. Armed with that hope, let us press on. Let us not lose this precious opportunity to speak up and to galvanise action that will see the end of these heinous crimes forever. With determination and courage, we will succeed. Thank you.

[ladyzee-oddityhunter]

((CW: Mentions of pokemon abuse))

Zee Streams: “Welcome to the Heartfelt Shelter!”

[The following stream is timestamped 2:36pm 11 January, 2024]

Stream beginning soon...

When the lobby screen swipes away, Zee is standing in what looks like a small front lobby. Behind her is a reception desk with the title “Heartfelt Foundation” mounted on the wall in creamy white letters next to a salmon pink heart.

Beside Zee is a young man standing a few inches shorter than Zee herself. His hair is chocolate brown save for the butter yellow braids in front of his ears. He’s wearing a black turtleneck and a dark red blazer and slacks. His eyes, watching the camera slightly nervously, are strikingly pale blue-grey.

Zee waves eagerly, letting the gold underside of her shoulder cape flutter and flash.

“Hello my lovely skiddo kiddos! You’re here with me, Lady Zee, and today we’re doing something a little out of the ordinary before our regularly scheduled oddity stream!”

She gestures broadly to the desk and facility name behind her, the movement again punctuated by her cape’s sparkle.

“This is Mateo, and today he’s giving us a tour! Of what you ask? You remember our newest sponsor I’m sure, the Heartfelt Foundation! Today we’re touring their shelter in Slateport City where they have all sorts of pokemon in their care and up for adoption! Right, Mateo?”

Mateo gasps softly before seeming to remember to smile.

“Ah! Yeah! I spend a lot of time in here because I love taking care of the pokemon and making sure they go to good homes so…”

He pauses and looks needfully to Zee for some sort of cue. She makes a “go ahead” gesture with her hand, and he seems to catch on with no small amount of relief that he's doing this correctly.

"So follow me," He says, leading Zee through a door to the left of the reception desk. The camera, her rotom phone today, follows dutifully to keep them both in frame.

Mateo walks into what looks like a long, wide hallway lined with rooms enclosed by plexiglass. Zee pauses to point into one, and the camera zips up to her and turns to look into the room.

Inside is what looks like a tiny lake surrounded by soft grass and filled with lilypads. Many small, semi-aquatic pokemon like wooper and politoed are splashing in and out of the water. A lone tympole bobs to the surface and playfully blows a bubble toward the glass.

The next room is fully aquatic, looking more like an indoor swimming pool with a narrow platform running around the edges, just wide enough for a caretaker to stand on while they clean the enclosure or feed the pokemon. A goldeen, several magikarp, and a few feebas are swimming peacefully in there.

"So we have twenty-three enclosures right now," Mateo says as he gestures down the hall, "But we set them up and break them down as our number of residents changes. All of our resident pokemon were either surrendered to us or rescued from unsafe situations, and all of them are adoptable."

"Is it easy to adopt?" Zee asks from where she's crouched beside a very dark enclosure and looking in. What looks like a woobat's nose is pressed against the glass, sniffing occasionally.

"It can be!" Mateo says, a confident smile now creeping across his mouth as they move into comfortable territory for him. "We check out every potential new adopter before sending any pokemon home with them, so anyone with a known history of pokemon abuse is NOT allowed to adopt. We also make sure the home itself is suitable for the pokemon based on type, species, and individual personality. This way we make sure no one goes to a home where they don't fit the environment or lifestyle, stress out their new family, and have to come back and break everyone's hearts. And we teach every adopter a quick course in feeding and care for their new family member, and send them home with a pamphlet of Heartfelt's own independent research on that species if we have one. There are a lot of pokemon, so we don't have a pamphlet for all of them yet, but we're also available during all business hours for any adopters who need some help."

Zee bounces to her feet and claps her hands, and the camera does a happy up and down bob with her. "That is SO wonderful!" She cheers.

"How many pokemon have you helped find homes?"

"Hundreds!" Mateo says proudly with a little puff of his chest. "We take pokemon happiness very seriously here!"

They continue the tour, Zee peeking into most of the enclosures and commenting on how cute the pokemon inside are with the camera following her gaze. Each enclosure contains a miniature environment setup and pokemon relaxing or playing comfortably. Most of them contain multiple smaller species, but a few contain just one or two larger ones with the largest being an elderly slaking.

As they reach the end of the hall, the clear plexiglass windows are replaced by solid doors with much smaller windows inset at roughly eye level. Zee stops beside one, and Mateo hurries back to her side, looking a little nervous.

"Ah, please be careful around this door. This guy doesn't like... Uh. Noise."

The camera lifts up to peer in through the window. This room is much smaller and is dimmed comfortably. Inside is a large, soft looking pokemon bed upon which a houndoom sleeping.

"Oh..." Zee says, her voice fading out sadly, because the houndoom inside does not look happy.

One of its horns is broken off, and a deep, still healing gash is cut across its face from the base of the broken horn to the tip of its snout. The cut passes through an empty eye socket. Laceration scars are scattered along its side, and its tail has been removed just a few inches past its tailbone.

"We call him Spicy Meatball," Mateo says grimly. "He was rescued from a death battling ring. He's really, really jumpy around other pokemon and loud noises because of it, but when he feels safe he's the sweetest guy."

"Oh dear, that's... That's..." Zee trails off, struggling for once to find words.

Mateo finishes for her.

"Terrible, right?"

Zee turns to look at him and nods. Her eyes look a bit watery, and the camera pans over to center on Mateo instead.

"It's really terrible," He continues, "That some people think that's just okay to do to other living things, to do to pokemon. To make them suffer, and make them unable to feel safe just living. Not even some people. A... A lot of people. Meatball's not the first one I've seen come in like this, and I know... I just KNOW he won't be the last."

He looks directly at Zee, away from the camera. "Not unless something is done to actually stop this kind of human behavior. REALLY stop it, not just advise against it. And we can do that, Zee. We can stop it. You just need to help us."

Zee's eyebrows press together and her mouth falls slightly open, confusion settling in her expression. This does not sound like a normal sponsor speech. Her golden brown eyes flick once toward the camera, and suddenly Mateo seems to remember it's there.

"So!" He says, looking slightly off balance but swiftly recovering, "That's why we need help from compassionate people, to help educate people on how to love and care for their pokemon friends, and help the ones in need find homes. Right?"

Zee recovers faster, throwing on a smile and sweeping her right hand out so the gold in her cape shimmers elegantly. "That's right! Running a shelter and sharing information takes a lot of resources though, and food! Lots of yummy pokemon food! To help Heartfelt keep the lights on and tummies full, follow the link my darling mods are posting in the chat and donate a little! If you don't have anything to spare right now, that's fine! Please make sure to share that link with your friends instead! Every set of eyes and every donation helps a TON!"

Mateo swallows, his smile a little stiff as he looks at the camera. "Thank you so much for visiting today, Lady Zee. It was great to have you, and I think the pokemon loved being famous for a bit."

"Thank you SO much for having me! I had SUCH an amazing time! AND I'll have an even BETTER time if I can feed that woobat!"

She bounces on her toes happily and waves to the camera. "Thank you SO much for joining us on this tour! I hope to see you all again tonight for our regularly scheduled oddity stream! And remember skiddos, mommy loves you!"

Thanks for Watching!

[randomnameless]

"We need our vassals to believe the Empire will always come to their aid. Always." This is actually kinda interesting, considering Edelgard's ideals amount to "people need to rely on their own strength rather than relying on others." There's a case here that she's keeping that from her vassals, and by them relying on her they're ultimately seen as lacking merit in her eyes and giving her room to dismiss them. Then there's the Hubert/Shez support saying that she's coddling the nobility while oppressing the commoners, and her reforms attracting nobles from the Kingdom opposed to Dimitri's pro-commoner reforms while Hubert and Monica's makes it out that she's going to free the nobility from their responsibilities to do whatever they please. Hopes is just another flavor of Safflower. In Safflower, she needed to rely on the Agarthans for her war, but had made them dance to her tune according to the Japanese text before ultimately disposing of them. In Blaze, she relies on the nobility for support, but her support ultimately gives her grounds to strip them of their power after the war. It's the same Edelgard, just working with a different group of scumbags.

Tbf,

Idk if the devs bought their own lie or something like this with Supreme Leader, but damn if sometimes her writing - and the reaction to her actions - is completely different whether you think about this "PR" mindset, or not.

I could even compare this to the fandom surrounding her, you have the very devoted fans thinking #griffithdidnothingwrong because Supreme Leader wondered once in an anonymous ask what to do with Rhea if she refuses to surrender, and "turn her in shiny double axes" wasn't an option, just like her asking Rhea'n'all to surrender in the last chapter of Tru Piss...

And yet, she also has her lines where she congratulates herself and Billy for getting the world of those pesky pointy ears, saying as early as chapter 12 to motivate her troops that her path leads to Rhea's death and telling to Billy, before the "plz surrender" speech that she wants to eliminate the evil lizard lady so...

We can see the same about her parents' romance in Garreg Mach - debunked by a nameless who says no imperial heir has attended in recent ages - Aegir being responsible for the experiments when Hubert says it was Thales, or even, "Willy's sekrit history"... Are we supposed to buy Supreme Leader's words - as she is known to lie to her allies "Rhea so BaD she launched nukes in Arianrhod!", or at times are completely wrong/misguided "the church divided Adrestia Fodlan in three entities to control them" when we Know Loog's rebellion was supported by Agartha and Rhea only acted the end of the War because the Emperor of that time lost against the barbarian and Faerghus was independant in all but in name?

Jerry, as much as I like the guy, says it best : Supreme Leader's words are meaningless.

In an usual setting/VG, people would judge her for her various actions... but Flamey is forgotten by the plot because the "slapping my ass" cipher card had to be sold, characters become vapid and moan about "uwu IdEaLs" when no one notices that, uh, any ideal that goes "you are from race B you cannot rule over race A" sucks no matter what...

So what is the "real" Supreme Leader (Watsonian wise, of course, Doylist wise, she's Fodlan's resident waifu)? #griffithdidnothingwrong or, what we've been saying since day 15, someone who, just like Arvis and arguably Ashnard, manipulates people by creating/seizing opportunities to further her own agenda?

I love Gustadolph and I love Arvis, but if their games treated them with the same kiddy gloves they used for Supreme Leader, aka not having anyone call them out on their actions and slobber over the "IdEaLs" regardless of the means and immediately backing off when they could actively discuss about those "IdEaLs", I would like them... less, I guess.

Supreme Leader's PR "line/plans" here reveals her cunning - even if there is the "only one supply line" issue - because she is actively working to "build" an image of a leader whose people/vassals will be loyal to, at the same time, she is fully aware it is nothing but an image because she just has to pretend to care, not care for real, but it also reveales what she thinks of "chivalry" in general and all those notions of mutual help/assistance.

As you pointed out, for someone who's all "might makes right" + "bootstraps", Lonato goofing the plan they devised is just a moron who's going to run to his own death. Let he be a vassal or ally of circumstance, she doesn't really care about his death, aka, about the death of the people who bought her flag and are now on her side.

What bothers her more is the reputation Adrestia will have if it doesn't pretend to "assist" one of their vassals when they need help.

(Compare this to the Kingdom and the Church always helping, when they can, their allies and Rhea's doctrine being to help whoever needs help, regardless of their background, religion or whatnot!)

Imo, it's as cynical as Ashnard trashtalking Bryce in FE9, save that Lonato isn't here, like Bryce, to hear what his "Lord" really thinks of him :

Supreme Leader mocks and loathes "chivalry" and the idea of "people supporting each other" - which we can see more clearly when we slaughter Baron Dominic in Supreme Bullshit - thinking the Dominics felt pressured to protect their lands, people and loved ones when, uh, they just, don't want to see the people they love die? And want to help and save them?

In a way I'm glad I found this line, for my morning salt because it hurts again to even imagine what Fodlan could have been if Supreme Leader wasn't designed as the mascot whales/target audience was supposed to simp for and buy nightgown cipher cards, but also for the confirmation bias (i know i'm petty) that Supreme Leader is indeed closer to Ashnard and Oldvis than fandom!Griffith, and again as another window in Adrestia's decadence and fall.

I mean, how could a country founded by Rhea herself, with close ties to what she is still preaching aka "help everyone!" fall so low to the point where assisting those who need help if frowned upon, and only to be done if it leads to something useful, like, good PR - saving the bozo who's rushing to his death though? I'd say it's much like Monica's rescue in Nopes - kill two birds with one stone, but well, one bird was prioritised while the other just, kind of, died on its own which happens to be a good thing for us, I guess?

-> Which gives us the magical ending of Supreme Bullshit, the two birds killed each other!

[sailorshadzter]

i'm a fire and i'll keep your brittle heart warm.

as always, ill be posting updates to tumblr as well as ao3.

thanks for the support. :)

When she’s summoned before the King, she dresses in her newest gown, the finishing stitches only just being sewn the morning before. It’s a gray gown with sweeping sleeves, black embroidered leaves stitched along the hemline. The moment that’s upon her, she’s known for several weeks now that it would come along, so she’s prepared when she walks into the Great Hall of Winterfell, to stand before the head table where the King sits, waiting for her. 

“Sister,” Robb greets warmly, smiling upon the young woman who now stands before him. With her ivory skin and vibrant red hair, she is more like their mother than any of his other siblings, especially his only other sister, who inherited all of the Stark genes the rest of them did not. “Sansa…” Her name upon his lips brings a smile to her own as she sinks into a curtsy that would rival even the greatest of ladies in King’s Landing or any other kingdom out there. His sister was ever the lady- full of grace in all that she did. She would make him proud. 

“Your grace,” Sansa says as she returns to her full height, eyes glancing only once towards the somber-faced Jon that stands just behind Robb’s shoulder. “You summoned me?” She questions, tilting her head, as if she does not already know what’s to come next. 

“Aye, as you know, we have been doing our best to find peace in Westeros,” Robb speaks clearly, gesturing around the room at the Northern lords who stand among them. “I hope we shall finally have it.” 

Behind him, Jon does his best to keep his face slack- he’s the only one opposed to this choice, but he is not the King, so his opinion matters very little. He hates the idea of Sansa being sent South, to live among the Lannister’s, but… When he looks back up and their eyes meet, even so briefly, he knows she’s made peace with her fate. Her smile seems to be for him and so he holds his head a little bit higher and remains silent, even when he wishes to speak out. 

“You are to marry Joffrey Baratheon, King of the Six Kingdoms,” Robb continues on, leaning forward in his chair, fingers laced together beneath his chin as he stares out at his sister. “Your marriage is the key to the North’s peace and independence. The Lannister’s will cease their attempts at subjecting the North once more and we shall remain as we are. Your first born son will be the heir to both the Six Kingdoms and the North, even if I father a son of my own.” Robb supposes that this is the Lannister’s way of regaining control of the North, even if it’s years down the road- they think to brainwash the child to be loyal to them. “Your son must be a Stark, through and through,” he continues, blue eyes sharp as steel in their gaze. “Do you understand what is at stake, sister?” 

Though her heart beats fast in her chest, she nods. This is her fate, no matter what she thinks, what she wants, and she’s known that all her life. Being the daughter of the Warden in the North and now sister to the King, she knows that her life has always been, and always would be, what the men in it thought best. But, the North is important to her, as important to her as her family, and she would never let their father’s death be in vain. No life lost for the North’s fight would ever be in vain, so long as she could help it. 

“I will not let you, or the North, down,” she vows softly and around her, the entire room erupts in cheers. She notices though, the only one who does not cheer, is Jon, who rather slinks away, disappearing into the crowd. 

[ x x x ]

When the sun begins to set, she slips away from Winterfell, and takes the ever familiar path down to the godswood. Sometimes, even now, she thinks she might find her father down here beneath the heart tree. The pang of loss aches within her heart as she thinks of her father, dead at the hands of the Lannister’s, and her mother, too, but she steels herself against it. She was a daughter of Winterfell, and so she would be strong, even when she was afraid. 

The truth was, though she’d never admit it to Robb, she was terrified to go South. 

King’s Landing was a glorious place, that much she has heard, but such a place is full of snakes, a place where she must tread carefully as to not get bit. There were rumors… Rumors of the King’s dangerous behavior, rumors of the truth of his birth… Rumors of Cersei Lannister… But, like with all things, there would always be rumors. She can’t let herself be frightened of rumors. 

As she sinks into the place her father had always once occupied, she can’t help but to let out a sigh, hand to cheek as she sinks further into thought. 

Jon does not usually descend down to the godswood, but, after this day, he can’t help but to seek out the solace of the weirwood trees. So, his feet take him along the pathway, the lush greenery of Winterfell in the summer offering him a small sense of peace. As he approaches, he finds he’s not alone, for there Sansa sits beneath the heart tree, a heap of gray skirts beneath the canopy of leaves. There comes those feelings again, the ones he’s always tried to hide, the ones that fill him with both warmth and disgust. But she was beautiful there, with her red hair framing her face, the sunlight woven through her locks like golden ribbons. “Jon,” she says his name as she looks up, rosy lips curving with a smile at the sight of him. “Join me,” she encourages, gesturing towards the space around her. 

“I don’t mean to disturb you,” he says, though she shakes her head, once again smiling. 

“You don’t,” she assures him and so Jon does as she bids, sinking onto the ground at her feet, the rustle of the wind in the trees the only sound for a long moment. “I am surprised to find you come down here,” she teases, unable to recall the last time she knew Jon to grace these woods with his presence. “Father always wished you to, but…” She trails off, glancing away as the smile on her face dies, for the pain she feels is written all over his face. “I’m sorry, I should not mention him… Not when…” 

It is Jon’s turn to shake his head, to offer a smile, one which brightens his usually somber features considerably. “No, it is alright,” he says, draping his arm across his raised knee, though the memory of the battle that took their father’s life dances through his mind. Ned Stark had died to keep him and Robb safe that day, the Lannister army surrounding them, it had been that one final act that allowed the North to retreat. Though they had lost that battle, Robb had come back to win several more, before the call came to name him King in the North. Jon finds it hard to believe that those days were already several months ago. “I think of father often,” he admits, thinking of the honorable man who had raised him. “I suppose that’s why I come here now, to be close to him again.��� 

Sansa smiles at these words, nodding her head, for those are sentiments she understands greatly. “I think I might find him down here one of these days,” she says, thinking back to the many hours of her childhood she once spent with her father beneath this very same tree, sometimes in silence, sometimes in conversation. Even being a girl, her father had ensured to spend time with her, even when the others had come along, younger siblings, younger sons, that would take up more and more of her parents time. “But, I always find myself alone.” She sighs softly, casting her gaze towards him, only to find he’s already looking at her. A shiver races the length of her spine, as it always does when Jon looks at her in such a way. She’s never been able to explain it, but despite the ties that bind them together, there was just something between them. “I’m glad you came,” she admits softer still, blue eyes glistening in the setting sun.

“Are you afraid?” Jon asks, unable to help himself. She blinks, sitting back, taken aback by his sudden question. “I only mean… You seemed so certain of it all back there…” 

Sansa wonders if for this one moment, this one single time, she might admit the truth to someone. In all her life, she has always smiled and nodded, doing as she was bid without question, without hesitation. That was her purpose, after all, to do as she was told to better her family and nation. “I am,” she swallows, closing her eyes as she thinks of all that she is to leave behind, as she thinks of all she is to walk into. “But, it is for the North, so I will do it with pride, even if I am afraid.” 

Jon is awed by her words and for a moment, he cannot speak. “You are brave,” he tells her after a long moment and her eyes widen. No one has ever told her such a thing before. “You will be a good queen,” he goes on, imagining her then as she would be, with a golden crown settled upon her auburn hair. She would be a beautiful queen, a gentle queen, everything that a queen should be. “The North will never forget what you did for us,” his words bring a single tear from her blue eyes, and he reaches out, catching it with his fingers as it falls from her jaw. 

Suddenly, he knows what he must do. 

[ x x x ]

“I want to go with her.” 

It is the following morning and Jon stands in Robb’s personal chambers, having brought himself there at first light. Robb stares back at him from where he sits before the hearth, breaking his fast with a piece of buttered bread and a goblet of ale, in just his breeches and shirt. In some ways, Robb was still the same brother he had always been to Jon. “Go with her? To King’s Landing?” Robb questions as he stands up, coming so he might stand just before Jon, blue eyes meeting gray. Sometimes when Jon stares at him like this, it is as if he’s staring back at their father. 

Jon nods, hands curling into fists at his sides as he thinks back to Sansa’s smiling face, cheeks wet with tears. “I want to be her sworn shield, her protector. Someone must be the head of her queensguard, better it to be me than some Lannister dog.” Robb seems to think about this for a long moment, but Jon knows long before he nods that he will agree to this one request. 

“I will miss you both, you know,” Robb says quietly, somber in the moment. He knows this is what’s best for the North, but there would always be a part of him that wishes it could be another way. That it didn’t have to be Sansa to go, but she was his heir, she was the key to the North, as some called her, being a woman and all. Her hand has been sought many times since he’s become King in the North, but he’s known for a long time that there were better things in store for her than some Northern lord or Dornish noble that believed they too could seek independence. He doesn’t know if Joffrey Baratheon will bring his sister true happiness, but she would do her part for their family, just as he does. And truth was, with Jon there, he knows he won’t have to ever worry about her. 

“Aye, we will miss you too,” Jon replies, but he holds out his hand for his brother to take, clasping hands with the man he’s stood beside his whole life. Brothers who share a father, it was a bond that could never be broken, a bond Jon was forever thankful for. “I will keep her safe,” he vows and Robb nods, because he knows, he believes in that one single truth. 

[ x x x ]

It’s the morning of her departure and she stands in her empty rooms for one last time. 

Within these rooms she’s grown from a small child into a young woman; she’s cried, she’s laughed, she’s learned. Within Winterfell, she lived a life full of happiness and cheer, raised by parents who loved her, surrounded by siblings she adored. But now, after all these years, it was time to go and do right by those same people. She would not cry, she’s promised herself, and so she swallows down the rising tide of emotions within her and is smiling when the knock comes to her door. 

“It’s time,” Jon says as he steps into the room that’s been stripped of everything that made it hers. For a single moment, they merely stand across from one another, two half-siblings about to make the journey from the home they’ve ever known. At least they would be together.

Sansa reaches out her hand and tenderly takes hold of his, giving it a squeeze. “I am,” she says with a determined nod, blue eyes clear and unafraid. Jon gives her hand a squeeze back and then together, they make their way from her room and onto the journey that was to come.

[deamare]

˗ˏˋ꒰ ♡ ˗ interview ꒱

There is a darkness here that candles do little to dispel. It drapes itself over every surface, clings to every corner like a cobweb. It is a feeling that registers as familiar, the knowledge that there is something wrong, and the acceptance of the fact that it will always be so.

Ishtar does not tap her foot or thumb at the fabric of her sleeve. She shifts only to breathe, and even that is little – for a woman raised to garner attention, she is one well trained in deflecting it. Mother was not here to scold her for fidgeting, nor to press a cool palm to the small of her back in a silent reprimand to straighten your spine or lift your chin higher, but the phantom of her gaze pierces Ishtar’s skin still.

“Young lady, you may be seated.”

The man before her appears entirely unphased by her appearance as he takes a seat opposite her. She supposes he has seen a great deal of individuals with backgrounds checkered like hers, for that was exactly why she had come to such a place, and yet she cannot help but wonder where upon that spectrum she might fall. Was she a misguided princess to him the way she seemed to so many others, or did he recognize something worse behind the gold that glitters around her wrists, her neck. 

“Now I am obligated to ask; what is it that brought you to our Abyss?” 

It is a question she has prepared herself for, one with a well-rehearsed answer. It follows her, that reason – poisons her thoughts in the night’s latest hours, reminding her at every moment of how deserved this exile is. She draws a careful breath, focuses on keeping her hands still where they fold atop her lap.

“I have come in search of refuge,” her voice does not shake the way she worries that it might, “a place to atone for the crimes I have committed against my home.”

She deserves worse than the man’s understanding smile. A trial, perhaps, though even that seemed an offer too generous for the likes of her. The phantom hands of those children cling to her even now – take hold of the hem of her cloak, curl fingers around the bracelets that adorn her wrists. 

She had failed too many of them in her obedience.

“And of your home, should we expect any… visitors?” 

The question is phrased so gently that its true meaning takes a moment for Ishtar to realize. Her head shakes carefully, eyes downcast. “I have been pronounced dead. There will be no one to come after me.”

By what means she had managed to survive her wounds, Ishtar is unsure. She had embraced death in that moment, believed herself deserving of its frigid solitude. Perhaps this was a second chance at doing what was right, or perhaps the end had been too merciful a punishment. 

“Good to know. Enough of that, then – I will not pry – but let’s move on.” He thumbs through a stack of papers, humming as he wets his pen. “For our own recordkeeping, would you be alright with providing us some insight into your strengths and weaknesses?” 

Ishtar blinks at that, hesitating a moment. She had expected something more – an accusation, perhaps judgement, and yet the man had not even asked her of what she was guilty. “I am skilled with magic.” The answer feels so meek, but now hardly seems the time to proclaim herself the goddess she had been revered as. “I carry the holy blood of the Crusader Thrud, though I don’t imagine that name is well known here.”

The man shakes his head once, still smiling, but says nothing. He is waiting for her to continue, Ishtar knows; to tell him of her weaknesses. She is sure that she could list a hundred, or perhaps a few pitiful enough to equal such a sum. She could tell him that she is a coward, or perhaps that she has never truly known independence. She could tell him that her mother trained her to obey, that all she has known is the direction of others.

“As for weaknesses…” Her eyes take in the man’s features; the way his skin wrinkles just above his brow or at the corners of his lips, how his eyes are warm despite the way the room’s air hangs heavy. She thinks he looks kind, like a man who loves his family. He belongs under the sun, and yet he is here.

“I suppose mine would have to be love.”

Amber eyes turn solemn, and for a moment it feels as though this man she has only just met is gazing at her with an understanding so hot it burns her skin. Ishtar does not shift or flinch, she does not dare to look away. There is silence, a moment of an emotion so raw that she does not know a name for it.

And then it is gone – the man’s gaze returned to his paperwork.

“One final question," he is looking at her again, though something in his expression has changed, “what role do you believe you would play, were your life a written narrative.” 

For all of his questions, Ishtar has known an answer. For this, she finds herself speechless. There is no room in fantasy novels for a girl like her. Those stories boasted heroines, damsels – they were beautiful, untarnished things. She supposes in another life she might have been just as well.

But in this one she had played a fool too scared and love-blind to do what she had known was right. 

Ishtar swallows against the ash collecting in her throat. The man expects something, but all she can offer is a shake of her head.

“They do not write stories about people like me.”

[beefmastersblog]

Spirited Away

To me, Spirited Away is a representation of growth and change. The piece starts out with Chihiro sad because she is moving out of her town and living somewhere new. This is understandable as change is scary for a young girl. However, I began to notice that she is afraid of everything. She doesn’t want to go into the tunnel, and seems afraid of doing anything new. She starts off this piece as a frightful and skittish child who feels guilty whenever she messes up. However, throughout the piece, we begin to see her grow up.

It starts when she has to show the stink spirit to the tub, a daunting task that nobody else was willing to complete. She struggles, but she was able to refill the tub for it and was the one who figured out that it wasn't a stink spirit at all but a river guardian. This was the first signs of her growing up and starting to be independent and able to do things for herself, things that the others at the bath house weren't able to do since they couldn't bear to be around the stink spirit.

However, the most monumental moment of growth in the movie was when she risks her life to rescue Haku. In the beginning of the movie, we watched her stumble and cry just trying to go down stairs, but on her adventure to find help for him, she traveled across oceans and through frightening swamps, all without screaming once. 

By the end of the movie, Chihiro has grown into a confident young lady. She is able to strongly tell Yubaba that her parents are not in the crowd, which she wouldn’t have been able to do before. She has gained courage, confidence, and the ability to speak up for herself, and overall, her story is one of growth and progress.

One part that really stood out to me was when our characters in the human world went back to their car, and they saw that it was dusty and covered in leaves. To me this represented the passage of time and the way that Chihiro was able to grow with it, and it felt like the movie was trying to explain that growth is something that comes with time. Because of her experiences in the spirit world, Chihiro is now ready to take on the challenges she will face in the human world.

The picture I chose to include was a photo of Bo, who started off as a coddled baby who is afraid of the world and was raised to believe the outside would get him sick. To me, he is the most tangible representation of change in this film. When he turns into a mouse, he eventually stops getting coddled by the bird that was carrying him the whole time and begins to walk on his own. And at the end of the movie, where he stands on his own two feet and actually speaks to Yubaba, you can tell that he too has been able to go through a period of change and rebirth, just like Chihiro.

Another core message in the movie, Spirited Away, is one of identity. Yubaba controls people by stealing their names and turning them into creatures that are no longer human. But Chihiro is able to keep her identity through her kindness and strong morals, as demonstrated through her actions with the stink spirit and Haku, as well as her humbleness when No-Face offered her gold. This is a core part of her character, and something that allows her to hold on to who she is. And by staying true to her own identity, she was able to help Haku get his name back and uncover his own identity as well.

[mr-divabetic]

Stephanie Mills' voice is so distinctive that it is hard to mistake it for anyone else's. She has been nicknamed "the little lady with a big voice," but this hardly does justice to her status as a living legend. Although her impressive string of hits in the '80s and early '90s might qualify her as an R&B icon, it was her electrifying performance as Dorothy in the Broadway show "The Wiz" that made her a household name.

Did you know an up-and-coming songwriter named Luther Vandross penned "A Brand New Day," also known as "Everybody Rejoice"? 

If you do a few Google searches,  you'll find "The Wiz" wasn't her first foray into showbiz. At the ripe old age of nine, she achieved considerable success in a background role for the 1968 musical "Maggie Flynn. After that, she won amateur night not once, not twice, but six sensational times at Showtime at the Apollo. 

Her Broadway success in "The Wiz" led Stephanie Mills to be signed with 20th Century, scoring her first top 10 R&B hit in 1979 with "What Cha Gonna Do With My Lovin'." From there, she segued to Casablanca and then MCA, where she recorded five No. 1 R&B singles, including "I Feel Good All Over" and "Home."

She freely admits, "I love all my albums [but] I think my prime album would be the Home album because I put a lot of thought into re-recording 'Home 'and the songs on that album. But each of my albums [has] a story of a time in my life [and] what I may have been going through at that time."

Although we're glad to hear she loves her albums and still tours, we can imagine the time, dedication, drive, and diligence it takes to be at the top of your game for over six decades. "I sing every day, but I get a lot of rest. I sleep a lot, but I love touring," she said in an interview with one of our favorite websites, Rated R&B. "It's not taxing. I'm older, so when I come home, I am tired, but it's a good tired because I love leaving everything I have on stage with my audience."

Recently, Stephanie Mills chose to fund her own recording. She explained to the White Mountain Independent," "I'm doing this on sheer will, faith, and my experience in the business. I didn't set out to do this on my own; it just happened. But I believe in this."

When asked what keeps her inner rhinestones glowing, Stephanie Mills said, "Seeing the audience's faces and seeing them enjoy my singing. I take pride in trying to sound as close to my records as I can. In fact, when I sing, I sing to my original recording. People pay their hard-earned money to come see you. That's big. That's a lot."

On social media, Stephanie Mill has no problem speaking her mind. She's shared her feelings regarding the R&B whitewashing and defended her friend, the late Michael Jackson. 

Her recording of Angela Winbush's "I Have Learned To Respect The Power Of Love" is a standout. Her voice is rich, clear, and powerful. She pours emotion into every line of lyrical sentiment that speaks to your heart. It's one of my most beloved Quiet Storm ballads. You don't hear songs like this anymore. . 

"I've had a fabulous life and fabulous career," the legendary singer confidently told Rated R&B. Asked what she credits for her longevity in the music industry, she said, "Never following a trend. I've always done my own path and stayed on my own path. I didn't listen to a lot of noise of what people say: "Oh, you should do this, you should do that." I took the best from whatever they said that I felt was best for me and would work for me, and I would do that. I always took my time and just slowly did the slow walk. I didn't do a fast run. I did a slow walk."

After working in showbiz for half a century, Stephanie Mills must feel content knowing that people still enjoy watching her perform. It's difficult to imagine the numerous setbacks, disappointments, and frustrations she has faced throughout her career. From the singles that failed to make it to the top of the charts to auditions for roles that she didn't get, Stephanie has likely endured more challenges than most of us could handle. Therefore, we celebrate her longevity steeped in excellence with great admiration.

[highlordofkrypton]

Wildflowers, a Tamlin x Rhysand prequel fic

Chapter 3 - Two Brothers

Gairdín is the only village of note in the entirety of the Spring Court. It is the home of the High Fae, the Court’s nobles and their servants, which vary from lesser Fae species or humans. The rest of the territory is made of hills and valleys, with some rivers to add a splash of colour to all the green.

Despite all its inhabitants, the Spring Court’s capital houses only one official standing structure: the High Lord’s manor. The rest of it? One simply needs to know where to look to find the burrows, knobs and sheds of shrubbery. As for Tamlin, he knows all the secrets of Gairdín, and the only reason he knows is because he makes sure to visit a lot. You know, to keep up with all the changes and the news to be a good Lord.

“Get up, get up, get up, get up.”

The most annoying ball of sunshine barrels onto Iolin’s massive bed, landing right at the centre of his belly and earning him a pained ‘ oof ’.

“I’m up,” groans the pseudo-sleepy mound. 

In truth, Iolin had been up for hours before, reading up on old healer’s notes and jotting down bursts of brilliance. There’s just something about that private hour slotted between midnight and dawn that feeds his inspiration. He does make sure to get back in bed for Tamlin’s sake. His little brother enjoys waking the whole family, if he can. Today is their day together, so Iolin gets the honour of Tamlin’s full attention.

“I’m six now! You said you were gonna teach me magic on my next birthday! You’re late!” 

Very few are privy to this free-spirited and loud side of Tamlin. Come to think of it, Iolin’s the only one who hears all of his brother’s unfiltered thoughts. He says the first thing that comes to mind without fear of repercussion. 

“Did we? I don’t know, you could be lying to monopolize my time. Do you have this promise in writing?” 

Ha! Tamlin knew Iolin was going to ask, so he’d planned ahead. From within the pockets of his tailored trousers, he withdraws a piece of parchment and unfolds it for his brother’s viewing. On it, he’s only written his name in very unsteady attempted cursive.

Iolin takes the note, inspecting it carefully like the important document it is. He looks between Tamlin and the parchment, squinting in fake disbelief.

“There’s been a series of fraudulent documents being passed around these past weeks,” he says, officially. Yet, he nods and hands Tamlin’s note back once he deems it acceptable. “But this is not one of those. I will hold you to our promise.” In a single sweep, he picks the boy up and tucks him under his arm, toting him right out of his room.

Between giggles and kicked feet, Tamlin draws enough breath to shout: “Hey! How come you’re already dressed?”

That answer remains a mystery.

Magic to Faeries is an ambiguous term. It means different things to different creatures, and even between Courts, only the foundations remain the same. To Tamlin, it means independence and growth—it means being able to do his own awesome feats without asking for help. To Iolin, it means doing something extraordinary with the ordinary.

Sometimes, it means listening to the endless chants of his little brother demanding ‘magic time’ without getting annoyed or watching Tamlin run speedy little circles around him without getting dizzy. His little brother nearly runs into a grumpy grey gnome, rolling his barrel of stones down the path to the rest of the village. Iolin has to catch him, then herd him close while offering apologies that no other male in their family would.

“First, errands. You know this, Tamlin. We have a duty to our people.”

The village is full of life, mostly lesser Faeries crawling out of their hidey-holes and starting the day. Tamlin settles beside his brother and waves ‘hello’ to everyone he meets, mimicking Iolin in his open warmth. Their father had always called Iolin ‘soft ’—always said that it was Lady Margret’s fault for it—and Tamlin has come to understand that word as likeable. Everyone likes Iolin and so, Tamlin wants to be soft, too.

There is a distant mound, further out of the village, by the river of Starlight, that houses some one quite extraordinary. It’s the only explanation as to why Iolin makes a point to start with a visit there, then work his way backwards towards the manor. 

Tamlin skips along beside Iolin, chatting about the kind of magic that he would like. He thinks commanding earth and stone like their father can would be cool. He could make a statue in the garden and scare Enfys. Maybe he won’t get an elemental power, just Enfys’ talent as a knight-commander. Better yet, what if he’s really smart like Iolin? He can already talk to plants like him, and he’s soft like him, so it makes complete sense.

“I think you’re confusing magical abilities with skill, Tam.”

“Doesn’t matter, I want it all!”

Up the dirt path to the hidden home by the water, Tamlin skips ahead. He peers into the window, watching a human woman putter about in dirt-coloured clothing and a sandy apron. Whatever she’s cooking over the fire smells foul, and Tamlin wrinkles his nose. He bangs his palm on the window, frightening the woman.

“Hellooooo! Oh, sorry.” 

At the very least, he has the mind to look embarrassed for catching her off guard.

Glaring at him briefly, Doe wipes her hands, opens the wooden door and looks terribly unhappy. She rests her knuckles on her full hips. The stance implies a certain disappointment that Tamlin doesn’t understand, but Iolin does. He looks sheepish. Compared to the Faeries, she looks plain with her dull brown hair and awkward freckles across imperfect russet skin, but to Tamlin, that makes her just as pretty as the High Faeries. Her looks make her unique, and that’s important because what makes people beautiful is more than just looks. 

What good is a nice face when the heart is made of farts, a poem by Tamlin.

“He won’t say anything, I swear it,” Iolin holds his hands out in surrender. It’s the gesture he makes when he doesn’t want Tamlin to bite him.

The human woman who’s known Tamlin for all his life glances at him. She grunts with all the grace that would make his mother sick, especially coming from a woman, and turns back inside. She’s not telling them to leave; it’s as close as an invitation that they’re going to get.

“I won’t say what?” Tamlin asks, innocently.

“If anyone asks, we were never here.”

“Oh, I know that.”

It’s not his secret to tell. If it makes Doe feel better, he’ll swear it to her himself. He likes her and wouldn’t want her to get in trouble. That’s why he can’t tell, right? Because she’d get in trouble? Humans can’t be friends with Faeries unless they’re really, really special. They have to prove themselves the way Doe has. Maybe she was blessed by the Cauldron, in her own way. Maybe Hyacinthus was, too.

“You’re a good brother,” Iolin grins and ruffles Tamlin’s hair.

He leads the way inside the small cabin tucked into the tiny hillside, a cozy home for a modest woman. Dried herbs hang by their stems by the window in perfect view of the sunlight. A pot bubbles and froths, spilling over with dark green liquid that stinks. Tamlin creeps up to it, curious.

“ Don’t,” Doe warns.

“I know! I’ve been here before.” He frowns. The times before, she was nice to him. Cold, at first, but nice eventually. He must have done something to earn her anger. Apologies solve nothing, so he retreats into himself and sits down at the kitchen table, quiet and well-behaved.

Iolin notices the shift in attitude in both of them and frowns. He tries to pull Doe aside, gets swatted for it on the first try and tries again. Though they speak quietly and closely, the ever-tall High Fae leaning in to speak into her ear. He says something that has her frowning, baring her teeth then exhaling all the tension from her shoulders. 

That’s his magic , Tamlin corrects his inner monologue about magic. Iolin always knows what to say to make people feel better.

When they’re ready to include him in the conversation, it’s just about the same as it usually is.

“So, you’re six now?” Doe says, as if she hadn’t been giving him a hard time. She takes the seat beside him and leans her elbows on the wooden table. 

Tamlin nods, squinting his emerald eyes in suspicion.

“That’s an important age. You’re not a baby anymore.” She waits to see if Tamlin’s going to call her out on her attitude. When he doesn’t, she keeps explaining. “You’re a High Lord’s son, now. Things will change. I’m sorry I was rude.”

He doesn’t understand what she’s talking about, only offering a confused tilt of his head.

The pot reaches the apex of its bubbling, and Doe gets up to turn it off. She doesn’t say anything more about it, just taking it off the heat and pouring it into open bowls for quicker cooling. She’s the best Healer in the Spring Court. Iolin told him so. Better than Iolin himself, who is only just learning the different ways to mend, both lesser Faerie and human. There’s more than just magic. Sometimes, it’s just ‘ che-miss-tree’.

“Is that a bad thing?” Tamlin finally asks.

“Yes,” she answers, bluntly honest.

Hurt crosses Iolin’s features. Tamlin feels it too, but it’s quickly replaced with childish indignance.

“You’re wrong. There’s nobody more important than the High Lord. We’re better than you!” He balls his little hands into fists, betrayed. Why would their friend say something so cruel for no reason?

“There it is,” she says. 

This time, Doe sounds tired.

“Doe,” Iolin warns. “He’s young. He doesn’t understand. Is now really the time?”

Doe turns, leaning against the counter. “This is my life, Iolin. This is what it is all the time!”

Clearly, Tamlin is missing parts because there’s a conversation happening within his conversation that he can’t follow.

“They raided my home, Io. They destroyed everything!”

The little Fae looks around. Everything looks fine to him.

“And I fixed it. Good as new. Better than new.” Iolin motions at the room around them.

The more Tamlin looks, the more he notices the slight differences in her home. Scratch marks on the ground that marr Doe’s usually clean home. Aside from the clutter, she takes pride in her burrow and her possessions. There are dark stains on the ground that could be rust, but it could also be something else. He trails his gaze to her, how the circles under her eyes grow darker in the right light, as if to expose her exhaustion. There’s a bruise on her wrist that peeks out from her long sleeves every now and then if she gestures too much.

He wasn’t paying attention. He was just happy to be here and learn about magic.

“Are you okay?” Tamlin cuts through the arguing gently.

Doe’s brown eyes flicker to him, then back to Iolin, holding his gaze. “No.”

“Can I hel—”

“Tam, mind going outside for a bit? You can play by the river.”

“I wanna stay.”

“Please.”

When Tamlin realizes that his brother isn’t asking, he gets up without a word and drags himself outside. He doesn’t want to sit by the river. Something bigger is happening, much bigger than a child like him. Instead, he walks by the cottage, then crawls back when he’s made a clear enough scene about leaving. He sits under the kitchen window and listens. That’s what good hearing is for, isn’t it?

“You’re safe now,” Iolin’s voice is gentle and soothing.

“I was never safe, when will you understand that? No human is safe. Not here and not anywhere in Prythian. I’m tired, Io. I’m tired of being treated like scum.”

“You have me.”

“Do I? Do I have you, Iolin?”

The silence is palpable. Tamlin almost wants to ask if she’ll leave. People do that. They go to other Courts because they’re nicer. 

“The Summer, Day and Dawn Court have better policies. You could go there. You could keep practicing your medicine there. You could keep helping people.”

Tamlin wants to revolt. His friend shouldn’t have to leave. He should find who’s being mean to Doe and set them straight.

“I shouldn’t have to leave.”

“My father isn’t going to change. Traditions don’t evolve overnight, not without a new High Lord.” 

Doe doesn’t answer. Tamlin wonders if they’re communicating in secret. He almost sits up to peer through the window. Almost.

“I’m not having this conversation with you. The potions can get you punished, but that kind of talk will get you killed. I don’t want to be High Lord, but I can protect you despite that.” A pause. “Doe. You’re important to me. I’d come and find you.”

“I thought you weren’t having this conversation with me, even though you could change everything.”

Iolin sighs. The sigh means he’s frustrated and tired, like he’s been over this with her time and time again. “Is there anything you need? I’m doing my rounds in town today.”

“Yeah,” she says and starts listing off an uninteresting list of things. At least, uninteresting to Tamlin, who knows nothing about the intricacies of me-di-cine.

He sneaks off to the starlight river, kicking off his boots and rolling up the cuff of his trousers to play in the water. He was here the whole time. Yup. The entire time. Tamlin pretends not to see his brother heading in his direction, so he makes even bigger splashes. Sparkling water is tossed in the air haphazardly in an attempt to create an impromptu game with himself to make his playing look more authentic.

Iolin squats by the shore, watching his little brother curiously.

“You were listening,” he accuses.

Well, there’s no point in pretending if he’s already caught. It was a good effort. Tamlin pats himself on the back.

“What’s me-di-cine?”

“I thought you wanted to learn magic?”

“I do! But I also want to know what me-di-cine is now.”

“Mhm. C’mon. Boots on. We’re going picking.”

Tamlin groans. Herb picking is so boring.

Iolin’s meadow is a considerable walk away from Gairdín. There’s no other way to find rare and undiscovered flora if he stays too close to civilization. Crossing the thicket of trees, both brothers make sure to thank the spirits within for their hospitality and they promise never to take more than they need. Their purpose is a good one; healing is an art that all living things need. 

“I can help, you know.”

Tamlin climbs over a fallen log, never letting his attention shift from his older brother. If protection is what Doe needs, two are better than one. It’s simple math. The bigger the numbers, the better it is, unless you’re trying to be number one. Then, that’s different.

“Enfys is gonna take me patrolling because I’m six now. I can patrol Doe’s home.”

He misses the way Iolin tenses, thinking that he’s just trying to look for herbs. Tamlin squats near the ground, identifying roots that they can use to neutralize poisons in wounds. He shuffles around on his bum, gathering in his hands every plant that Iolin has taught him about.

“I appreciate it, Tamlin. I really do, but there are some things that should just be left to your older brothers.” Iolin finally says.

“Why? Because I’m little?”

“No, because it’s painful. The weight of some burdens can crush you.”

“But I’m strong!” Tamlin stands and curls his arms, flexing his little biceps.

Iolin laughs. “Yes, you are very strong, but let me worry about this. Please?”

A small huff signals Tamlin’s unwilling agreement. One day, his brothers will let him help. Until then, he will keep getting stronger and smarter so they can include him sooner rather than later.

He dumps his green hoard into Iolin’s bottomless pouch and gets bored soon after. More often than not, Tamlin will help for an hour or so, then decide that rolling around in the dirt is much more interesting. Better yet, he can climb high up into the branches of the tree above Iolin and drop leaves on him with a childish giggle. His attempts of naughtiness are always some kind of attempt to escape into the forest and its trees; he’s happy and free here, but it means he’ll come back home covered in dirt. (A true horror in their mother’s eyes.)

“When am I gonna learn maaaaaaaagic?”

“It’ll come.”

“But you said today was the day.”

“I think it is.”

“Okay, so when do we start?”

Iolin looks up from his spot on the ground, cocking a dark brow thoughtfully. Magic is something that should come naturally. While his father and brother share a different perspective, he has no interest in scaring his little brother into his abilities. He does have a good feeling that today is the day.

“How about you try growing this flower?” The older Spring son motions to a single bloom at the base of their tree. Its yellow petals and orange heart look up at him, silently hopeful.

“Okay!”

Tamlin scrambles down the tree to get as close as possible to the flower. He leans in, holding his knees to his chest and puffing his cheeks with a big breath of effort.

“Don’t push so hard, you’ll give yourself a headache,” Iolin warns when he sees Tamlin’s face turning red.

Nothing happens.

“So, maybe not green magic. Can you levitate this rock?”

Standing tall with his hands on his hips, Tamlin grits his teeth and wills the rock to float. He growls so the spirits of the air will obey him. All he gets is a gentle breeze of rejection.

“It’s not working!”

“Hmm,” Iolin hums. “Try turning your hand to stone.”

Frustrated, Tamlin decides to one-up the request. He stomps over to the tree and asks for its help. Then, with all the brilliance of a child, he headbutts the trunk. He hears Iolin’s hiss of pain, empathy ringing loud and clear. The impact rocks his (seemingly) smooth brain and has him landing on his ass. Palming his forehead, all he’s done is give himself a good bruise. No stony or bark skin.

“Sorry,” he says to the tree because it was rude of him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “This is dumb! What if I don’t have magic?” What happens to him, then? He won’t be good enough to be called the High Lord’s son. His father will lock him away for everyone to forget him.

His emotions get the better of him, along with a bit of pain, and Tamlin’s eyes well up with tears.

“I hate this!”

Impulse guides his feet deeper into the forest. Sadness blurs his vision and all he can hope is that the green is watching over him as it always does. 

“Tamlin, watch out!”

His footing gives, an unseen slope towards a forgotten creek. Tamlin gives a surprise yip before falling several feet, over hard stone and sharp branches. He can hear Iolin’s footsteps close behind him, halting at the high ground.

“Tamlin, are you alright?”

If he’s hurt, Iolin will fix him. Iolin will know what to do.

Sometime during the fall, Tamlin had curled upon himself, trying to brace for impact. Slowly, he unfurls, palms pressed into the dirt and snout—

Snout?

Tamlin waddles over to the water. Looking back at him is the mousey expression of an armadillo with patchy gold hair and pointed Faerie ears. A chirpy gasp escapes him. He can shapeshift ! No one else in their family can turn into a whole animal. Well, okay, most of a whole animal. He turns to beam at his brother, but Iolin shares none of his happiness.

The expression on his brother’s face breaks his heart.

“Tamlin, you can’t tell anyone about this. Father can never know.”

[vicjo-sims-stories]

Yuri Christine Feng

My name is Yuri Christine Feng. And I'm gonna be a star. Just like my momma Jillian Choi. I'm more of a singer/musician, mom was an actress. So like, I'm her 4th child but 3rd with my dad Victor.

Since my big sis Ara moved out before I became a toddler, I was basically raised as the only girl in the household until Haru came around.

Brycen, Liam and I were always pretty close and it was nice having 2 guys back me up at school when people were mean. Speaking of which, I never understood why we got bullied so much in elementary? We're Jillian Choi's kids LOL. Maybe they meant to hate on mom cause she homewrecked dad and Lily's relationship before having us (sorry mom but you a hoe for that).

When Brycen moved to San Myshuno to be independent while in college or whatever, I tagged along and was like bye mom not down for your house rules. Big bro took care of me while studying and playing college soccer till I was done high school. He let me host parties and all when I was building my career. I had a lot of fun living with him and it was great to see him settle down with such a lovely lady.

When Samuel was born, I realized I had to move out. I bought this nice loft in San Myshuno with my hard earned superstar money and hosted such lovely parties with my friends and family. I met Dustin Clevenger at a bar once. Or club? Was it down the street of the loft? Whatever, ANYWAY, we dated and I told him "bestie let's move in!". So one evening Haru came over and wanted to hang out THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE MY SHIFT STARTED? I agreed to hang and told her to stay as long as she wants cause she's my sis right? This hoe...FLIRTS WITH MY MAN and this "man" RECIPROCATES??? I was totally unaware that they were seeing each other behind my back and one day Dustin admits it to me because they just became official and she wanted him all to herself. Like girl, get your own man first of all and then you won't need to share and this guy is dumb as hell. I GAVE HIM A ROOF OVER HIS HEAD??

Anyway, I'll let Haru tell the rest of the story cause I moved on and rekindled a lil fling from high school with Kiyoshi Ito.

We eventually got married and had Daiki in San Myshuno. (Thanks for delivering him Brycen, luv you big bro)

We decided Tartosa was the place we wanted to settle down in and have our second child Kaori. My children have grown so much and now Daiki is a teenager going through some emo phase or whatever. Oh we also have a dog cause Daiki's a spoiled brat hehe.

Hope you keep following our big family's lil stories!

Edit Nov 2023: Kaori is now a teenager too.

Edit May 2024:

Yuri moved her family into her childhood home in Del Sol Valley. She took in Liam and Aaron as well since she wanted to spend time with her brother. When Liam passed away, she and Kiyoshi became her nephew's guardian.

[shvdwscng]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄  𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒  that  often  kept  her  up  at  night,  well,  one  of  a  thousand,  because  it  appeared  her  mind  did  not  like  silence  as  the  rest  of  alina  did.  some  of  those  thoughts  never  fail  to  remind  her,  she  was  forged  from  her  father's  greed  after  all,  and  denying  a  part  of  her  that  would  reach  for  the  throne  would  be  an  utter  lie.  except,  alina  did  not  want  the  throne  for  her  own  gains,  it  was  that  simply  put,  she  did  not  trust  any  of  the  high  rulers  with  it  -  even  if  some  claimed  to  be  her  friends.  if  it  had  been  in  her  hands,  the  high  lady  of  summer  would  simply  destroy  it.  can  the  same  be  said  for  the  others?  would  they  all  collectively  relinquish  it  in  the  name  of  peace  across  prythian?  she  did  not  care  of  the  other  courts,  all  she  cared  for  was  summer's  independence.  perhaps  she  might  believe  suho's  thoughts  were  along  with  her  own,  that  he  too  only  wanted  his  own  court  to  be  free.  though  his  next  words  have  her  pause  to  study  him  for  several  moments  before  she  responds.  "suho,  while  i  agree,  i,  too,  don't  wish  to  focus  on  any  matters  but  of  my  own  court,  you  give  the  royals  far  too  much  credit.  they  alone  do  not  keep  the  peace  among  all  of  us,  we  all  have  done  our  parts."  any  good  rulers,  neither  wished  to  place  their  people  on  the  front  lines  of  a  blood  battle.  "mother  hears  us,  the  question  is  -  what  is  she  waiting  for?"

  alina  did  not  intend  to  her  every  waking  moment  about  worrying  about  something  that  was,  at  the  moment,  out  of  their  control.  she  instead  placed  her  focus  on  keeping  her  siblings  safe,  they  were  her  concern  at  the  moment.  when  the  high  lord  offers  his  arm,  the  raven-haired  woman  hesitates  for  a  split  second,  before  taking  it.  not  opposed  to  the  change  in  the  topic,  speaking  of  her  summer  court  was  one  of  the  few  things  that  brought  bring  her  joy.  "more  than  well,  it  is  has  been  a  land  filled  with  summer  faes  who  will  find  any  reason  to  celebrate  and  smile."  ironically,  their  high  lady  was  in  many  ways  the  opposite  of  her  people,  but  not  any  less  prideful  of  them.  "i  do  believe  they  are  preparing  for  our  lantern  festival.  one  I  do  invite  you  to  see  the  next  time  we  are  all  in  our  own  courts."  just  a  faint  smile  curve  her  lips  as  she  thinks  of  her  home  before  returning  her  attention  to  suho."what  of  yours?  I  do  not  hear  much  from  yours,  the  last  I  heard  about  it  was  from  the  newly  made  fae,  lady  lux,  joining  your  court."

He cannot disagree with her, he knew the greed in some court ran far too deep. it had almost consumed the autumn court once upon a very long time before, and personally he could not understand it, he never had the need to wish for anything beyond the borders of his home. "i suppose i cannot disagree, without the precense of the crown i am certain and without a doubt some courts might run rampage." he sighs, "i personally do not wish to invest my time in dealing with them, i much rather the crown do it." suho was happy to follow suit, as far the autumn court was left in peace and to live as the had for the pass centuries. he would subject his people to an unnecessary war in the name of power. "may the mother hear you," as much as he enjoyed the company of the high lady of summer, that was perhaps the only person outside his court he care to have dealings with. the rest, well, he could do without.

suho allows the silence to fill between the two, the kind of comfortable familiar quiet that two friends were able to share, no need to fill the void. he takes a few steps closer to her, offering her his arm so they can stroll. as his younger brother had said, there wa snothing he could do if he kept starring into the magic field that kept them grounded to the palace and its land. "tell me something that has nothing to do with this place and the current day." he finally speaks. "how are things in your court? all well i hope?"

[indiejones]

BOLLYWOOD LIFE & TIMES (& PRACTICES) BEFORE 1975-77 !

(Repost from June 2022, from previous id, to further h/l how strict public broadcasting norms were till 1975, & how post-Emergency times cut PM's hands off & gave rise to the free-for-all (in every way) we know over past half decade)

Few incidents from film related history, contemplating on the 'art imitating life or the vice versa' tussle. 1952 & it's film 'Shin Shinaki Boobla Boo' is among the first few times, we know of, the independent Indian Govt exercised it's given powers to censor entertainment content in society. (Though we know of more than a handful such incidents during British Indian times, starting from 1920, but for non-moral anti-Govt reasons). For it being the first out-&-out 'revenge action drama', making the Govt reason how 'it glamorizes & endorses jungle-like inhumane non-Gandhian principles, that too at the hands of the protagonists'. And how 'it promotes negative tendencies in people, using the cinematic crutch of justification'. Another even finer & most famous example of such proposed Govt interference in mass art, being this song from 1957 released & Indie All-Time Top 5 'Pyaasa'! Where no less than India's premiere film voice then, Nargis, in semi-retirement & in the 2nd last year of her 15 yr long film career as leading lady, stood in Parliament, in her capacity as Rajya Sabha member, and demanded this Guru Dutt song to be outright banned! Reasoning how it seemed to be promoting prostitution in India, moreover manufacturing more discord & discontent in the nation in general, in the garb of bemoaning it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ta4BmumQKc&list=PLm1v8VeYLVlmERFjKGjgAcxJiwPLNfx54&index=2 Such high artistic & mass communication standards set by our predecessors, as compared to just 25 or so years later, when the same Govt, in continuing reign, by late 1970s, came to give a veritable open pass to anything & everything in the name of art. Perhaps, & we can only speculate, borne outta a post-emergency India, where the Central Govt, was so heavily scarred by the criticism to it's over-reaction in imposing Emergency rule in India, even if on account of frivolous & perhaps unbecoming Oppn tactics (in allegedly conniving to get it's leader Indira Gandhi banned from elections over a trifle matter)..that it veritably turned a blind eye to every entertainment related matter, the germ, leading to the infamous 'Bollywood mutation of the 1980s'..one that totally transformed a once thriving & highly hailed industry, to a cheap medieval-aged pittance in existence, in comparison. One can well take their own sides, as to the chronological art-leading to- life or life-leading to art debate, though whether mass mutation of a entire society, & 2nd largest ever society of world at that, is easier, or that of a set of few thousands in the field of drama, I leave open to the public to mull over.

Another most entertaining report, from columns of film writers of 1970s, all connected to the 'art imitating life or vice versa' debate: Further confirming the Indie theory that film censorship was well-enforced, to keep movie content as non-corrupting to the Indian masses, as grossly possible, till as late as 1975 atleast, ie till Emergency times (1975-77)! Didya know that 4 major changes/cuts were forced by the Film Censor Board, upon 'Sholay'(75), one of the biggest b.o. hits in the history of Hindi cinema, in Indies All Time Top 125 (& by eons the greatest gangster flick of Bollywood - a gangster flick, as hardcore fans of today esp might say, whose raw biting teeth were quietly removed by out-house docs before release) ?! 1. Film goers & film writers hailing from Calcutta testify to how, 'Sholay' in it's 1st week of release, showed Gabbar Singh as an ex-army man, who was convicted for the murder of his senior officer, & twas that conviction he ran outta jail from. (Army man turning civilian murderer, was ofcourse wrong, so swoosh swoosh) 2. The 2 protagonists, Jai & Veeru, whose biggest charm was how they turned their life from being recidivist crooks to saviors, were actually shown stealing the bike, that the famous "Ye dosti hum nahi todenge" was shot on, from a guy at a dhaba they had another needless altercation with! (Nope, not done. Cut) 3. The murder of Ahmad (played by Sachin Pilgaonkar) was infact shown quite graphically in the first cut, so graphic, that the entire scene was ordered to be deleted, to be replaced by the famous 'ant killing' scene. The joke that carried on thereafter was, that Censors replaced a monstrosity with outright devilry, by replacing a screen murder with an actual one-of the poor ant. *Rofl. Slap* 4. The climax of the film in 1st cut had Thakur (Sanjeev Kumar) incidentally murdering Gabbar in course of their final brawl. But Emergency times couldn't have had a police-officer, even a retd one, taking law into his own hands, so replaced with the proper done thing. Bravo, to everyone. That's how All-Time Blockbusters were & are/ought be made!

[akaraboonline]

How To Make Him Want You So Badly, Says A Guy

It's usually not as difficult as you might believe to pull away in order to make a guy want you. As a guy, I would advise keeping things straightforward and avoiding excessive overthinking. He would be fortunate to have you because you probably have a lot to offer in terms of relationships. You shouldn't overdo it when turning on the charm because of this. Here are some ideas for persuading him to support you. How To Make Him Want You So Badly, Says A Guy Have your own life. It's absurd to believe that separating yourself and simply having your own life will make a guy want you, yet it's real. You simply continue to carry on as you have been doing; nothing needs to be done or changed on your end. He won't be able to resist you if you continue to crush it in your work, hang out with your pals, and pursue your passions. Chill out a bit. Simply put, men will want you if you behave like you don't care. Because they crave attention, some guys enjoy being pursued, but it doesn't mean they desire you. Acting carefree gives the impression that you can be happy and content without a guy's company (and this shouldn't be an act). A guy will be drawn to you because of the challenge if you do that. Some guys will also be envious of your laid-back approach, which contributes to the fact that you're entertaining to be around. Be fun to be around. Why would he want to be friends with someone who is constantly unhappy? Make him want to be near you if you want him to like you. Try not to be overly strict and instead, embrace spontaneity. Be open to new experiences. If it's not in your nature to be the life of the party, being open to new experiences and maintaining a cheerful mindset can go a long way toward making you a real catch. Flirt and tease him a bit. Who doesn't enjoy the occasional act of flirtation? If he senses that you are experiencing him too, this guy is much more likely to go bonkers for you. You can fool around, flirt, and tease him to let him know how into him you are. Keeping things lighthearted and upbeat while sprinkling in a few flirtatious remarks or innuendos here and there will heighten your partner's desire to be with you sexually. Be unapologetically yourself. You should live a life without apology in general, not just to attract a person. No matter what anyone says, you should be free to dress however you want, act however you want (as long as it doesn't affect anyone else), and live your life as you see fit. This will not only make you happier overall but also significantly increase your attractiveness to others. Let him see how independent and self-sufficient you are. Again, you really don't need to do anything unusual for this. Without ever being in a relationship, you manage to have a job, pay your own bills, and buy whatever you want for yourself. He won't be able to help but notice that you are the epitome of a strong, independent woman. Show off your intelligence. You ladies like intellectual males, don't you? I suppose it works both ways. A lot of guys are intrigued by intelligent women. This is especially true for men who may be a little uninformed. They crave being around ladies that are smarter than them for some reason. Guys are more inclined to want you and believe that there may be a future if you come out as clever and well-read. Laugh a lot. Men enjoy hearing women giggle. This is particularly true if we believe that we are the source of your laughter. As long as you're laughing alongside us and not at us, that is. The ability to make women laugh really feeds our egos, which makes us want to be with you so you can continue making us laugh. So, if you can make a guy laugh, he'll start to like you. Say his name. Speaking of ego, nothing gives a guy the impression that he is more special than hearing his name mentioned. I also believe that this is a bad guy's method to seduce ladies. Of course, nothing prevents you from utilizing the same strategy to entice a man. Obviously, it would be strange to continuously call a guy by his name. But you ought to bring it up frequently in conversation. It will let him know that you appreciate him and think highly of him. He will then begin to crave you as a result of his unconscious belief that you desire him.     Read the full article

[mystaero]

The Making of a Magnum Opus

A biography of Samara Banzon by Jericho Louis Jumawan

Born at Quezon City on the last day of Virgo season, 22nd of September, year 2004, Samara Gabrielle Nicole O. Banzon was the youngest female child of her father and mother. Her father is a chef, and her mother decided to quit her job to raise her alongside her older brother. Her parents met at a restaurant called “Singing Cooks and Waiters” in Pasay. While growing up, her parents, especially her father, did their best and all to support and provide for the both of them. In the meantime, while her father was working as a chef, he was known to be participating singing competitions because he found enjoyment in singing. Her mother, on the other hand, sold jewelry and attempted to pursue other small businesses to help supply for them.

Before moving to Caloocan when she was in fifth grade, their family resided in Cainta, Rizal. By the same time, her older brother was in his second-year of college. Despite having ups and downs throughout their journey in their lives, they remained strong and formidable as a family. She is currently a grade 12 STEM student at Our Lady of Fatima University. She described her education and current experience as difficult because of the academic strand she is in. Though she is facing challenges and trials to overcome, she wishes to describe the experience as enjoyable because she gets to learn new knowledge and information in her classes each and every day passes.

She intends to study the course Medical Technology as a pre-medical major in college. She describes her experience as a young adult as challenging due to the fact that she felt pressured to accomplish things in order to prove herself to others. According to her, adulting has been stressful and troublesome as it includes a lot of responsibilities to fill. Despite of all of this, she expresses herself as an independent woman, because she has always been able to handle things on her own since she was a kid.

Samara has been a dear friend and acquaintance of mine since the later year of our seventh grade. While a part of our high school’s dance club, we eventually had unexpected encounters and meetings along the way and because of that, those accidents eventually lead to a wonderful product: an inspiring friendship. I have known her throughout these years as someone capable of being independent and reliable in terms of any matters, as long as she is able to help. She will lend not just a hand, but a whole friend to listen and keep your secrets and queries only known by her. As she pursues her dreams and goals in life, I wish nothing but all the best to her. She deserves no more less than the wonderful person that she is.

Some people can easily consider someone as a friend when they feel safe when they are with them, but her case is not the same. Sam is the type of friend who is not just a friend, but almost a sister. She had defended my name and reputation in times people will be talking false accusations and gossips behind my back, and that is one of the many things I admire about her as her friend. Looking into it, I would not wish to be in her shoes. With the many struggles and challenges she had faced, I doubt I would be able to overcome such obstacles as well as she did. For her, I would not wish she would deserve the world, but rather this world deserves having her.