#you undermined what they thought was real love and affection and family the second your Real Family showed up

[inquisitorismone]

#my hof is so fun cuz it's like#what if you went thru this life changing experience with this found family#and you DIDN'T bond with them#you DIDN'T make a family out of them#and when it's over your devotion goes not to the people who've earned it but to the one remaining member of your family#because deep down you are forever frozen as that 19yo caught in her underclothes when howe's soldiers attacked your home

obligatory This Fucked moment that i have to post every time i reread

[getawayheaven]

I keep checking your blog, thanks for all louis posts.. I love him..

From your responses it feels like you are a neutral, am not sure if I got it right.. may I know if you ever believed larry being real.. if so do you think or inclined about them being still together ... i was a larrie, I think I still am but I don't see that being true.. each and everyday this year harry being sooo disconnected or well the way he was, made me realize may they are not together anymore.. it's not a nice feeling but then it's not my life.. I've started seeing people even the big larry blogs saying that they are here for H & L and their relationship is not top of the list... it's like they are not willing to accept and just think they both write songs only for each other.. if you take any 2 artists and compare their lyrics it would be like that only and you'll find parallels.. FITF has no indication that ties up with H in anyway like habit..

You know what the only thing that hurts me is that, louis has gone through sooo much personally and professionally.. I just hope he has people who love him unconditionally around him and even if HL decided to part ways it did not hurt louis much, as I feel like he is kind of a person who is 'all in' in any kind of relationship and acts tough and not let people know his pain.. even larries kind of see harry as this fragile baby and kind of undermine louis' pain.. I just hope he has partner who loves him and his heart soo much... unconditionally..🤞🤞🤞🤞

Hi anon. You are most welcome😇.

Yes I am a neutral and yes I do believe that they have been together in the past. There are many Larry proofs that cannot be denied. But over the years I've been more inclined towards believing that they are not together anymore. But they very well could be. Who knows? And I feel the same about lyrics. If we compare Harry, Louis, Zayn and Taylor's lyrics, there are just so many parallels that we can make a whole love story from them like they have been dating for decades. So lyrics parallels just doesn't matter to me. And regrading other blogs, it's just, everyone has different opinions and larries here live on two assumptions. One they believe that Harry and Louis's life are not same anymore, they don't desperately want to come out anymore, they love their privacy and their current life more than anything, so there's no point of sending any solid hints or signs regarding their relationship or their closet. Hence the reason we don't get larry proofs anymore. Which can be very true. This is a possibility too. And second assumption is, that the signs that were related to larry before 10 years, still holds true for larry and will continue to relate to larry for next 10 years too no matter what happens. Like the colors blue and green.

I just don't find it relevant that we need to stick to some particular theories and we should not change our mind about that. It is entirely possible that their love faded over time and we would never know it. Why to force our own assumptions on both of them, when they just want fans to see them as separate solo artist rather than as a couple? Especially Louis.

Regarding Louis's pain. We can never know that anon. Never ever. I really thought that I will see Taylor crying out loud in public if Joe ever leave her but at the end of the day they are just artist. We will see what they want us to see. We can never know what they deal with in their private life. Louis loves his family a lot and he has very sweet and kind people around him. I just want him to be very successful and very happy. He has went through so much but he always bounce back with full force. He acts like he's not affected but I loved how he opened up his vulnerable side in AOTV. Same anon, I just hope he gets all the love in the world. He deserves sooo much better.

[creatingnikki]

What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out. 

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices. 

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make. 

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it! 

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up. 

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday. 

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same. 

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people. 

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful. 

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away. 

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you. 

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs. 

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight. 

[woah-were-halfway-there]

What was Mia first bath like? Are you able to give a little small blurb on them giving Mia her first bath. Just how soft and delicate they would be🥺 please! Unless someone already asked for this and you’ve already written something like this that I’m scrolling past?❤️

Ok, so I've been asked to write this little scene a couple of times but just haven't gotten around to it BUT figured why not throw a little something together. (Also, this is written in third-person instead of second cause I'm too tired to change it)

Word Count: 1.4k

"I don't think I want to do it," Auston said from where he leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, looking at Y/N as she stood in front of the mirror while holding Mia all wrapped up in a towel. "Nope."

"What do you mean you don't want to? We have to do it, babe."

"What if we accidentally drown our child?"

"We're not going to drown her!" She gasped before spinning around to look at him incredulously. "God, Auston, now you're stressing me out."

"Well, you're the one making it seem so simple," he scoffed as he pushed off the doorframe and stepped towards her so he could take Mia, who was a fresh three days old at the time.

"It is that simple. We're bathing her. Now, please put her in the water before it gets cold."

Auston gave her a pointed look but listened. He was messing around with his fiancée, and she knew it. Although he was a little stressed about the situation, he knew they were in it together and that there shouldn't be any issues.

The two of them then knelt beside the bathtub in the en-suite of their condo, and Auston carefully unwrapped Mia from the towel, then gently placed her in the little newborn tub that was partially surrounded by water. They froze for a minute as they waited to see how Mia reacted to the water, and when she let out a little happy squeal and started moving her legs around, Y/N and Auston knew they good.

"Ok," Auston breathed out a sigh of relief. "We got this."

It was Y/N's turn to give him a pointed look then and shook her head slightly.

"Do you think the water is ok? It's not too hot?"

"Yes," he replied and leaned over to kiss to steal a kiss from her. "You did great, babe."

"Thank you," she said as she smiled against his lips and quickly pecked him again before looking back down at Mia, who seemed to be enjoying her time in the bath. "Could you pass me the baby soap, please?"

"Yeah, here. Make sure you don't use too much."

"I know, Auston. I read those baby books too."

She winked at him as he handed her the soap, and he teasingly nudged her with his shoulder, then watched as she put a tiny bit of soap on a facecloth she had wet with the tub water and carefully started washing Mia with it.

Auston observed her the entire time, taking in how gentle and soft Y/N was with their daughter and couldn't help but become overwhelmed with affection. From the moment they found out they were expecting Mia, he already loved his little family more than anything. But with for her to actually be there with them, that love has grown more than he thought was ever possible.

Seeing Y/N transition into her role as a mom made it that much more special. He didn't think he could love her more than he already did, but that's exactly what has happened, even though she undermines herself at times.

"Hey," he spoke up softly and glanced at his fiancée. "I think we're doing pretty ok at this parenting thing."

"You think?" Y/N let out a small chuckle, then rang out the cloth and hung it over the tub since she was done washing Mia. She then looked at him and smiled as he nodded. "I do too."

Without saying anything else, Y/N laid her head against Auston's shoulder as the two of them went back to watching Mia as she happily splashed around.

However, the moment was short-lived as Mia kicked her legs a bit more aggressively than she had been and ended up splashing water all over her parents.

"Mini!" Auston gasped as he pulled his soaked shirt away from his body, making Mia let out another squeal. "What was that for?"

"Mini?" Y/N asked with a curious look on her face as he glanced at her. "That's a new nickname."

"Yeah," Auston smiled before looking down at their daughter again, a very faint blush tingeing at his cheeks as he did so. "Cause she's like my little mini-me."

"Very true," Y/N replied, then glanced down at their wet clothes and stood up. "Take your shirt off, and I'll put them in the laundry basket."

She then took her top off, leaving her in only the pair of track pants she wore.

"Oh?" He asked as he took his shirt off too and handed it to her, smirking. 

"Don't get any ideas. I'm still recovering from giving birth. The doctor said to wait at least a month, remember?"

"I know, babe. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view and admire my hot ass baby mama."

"Ok, Matthews," she shook her head as she tossed their shirts into the basket, but this time it was her turn to blush a little bit. "Think it's time we get your mini to bed?"

"Probably not a bad idea. Frank must be wondering where the hell she went."

"For real. I can't get over how good he's been with her. It looks like he may have a bit of separation anxiety from her."

The two of them looked over to the doorway and saw Frank laying on the floor in their bedroom, looking a little mopey as he waited for his humans to be done whatever it was they were doing, especially his littlest human.

"Can relate, Frank," Auston stated as he stood up from his spot. "I already know my separation anxiety is going to be in full swing when I have to leave after bye-week."

Y/N's smile fell at that.

"Aus-."

"I know, I know," he continued. "I won't let it bother me until it's happening. I'm lucky that I get over a full week off with my girls, so I'm not complaining too much."

Auston then leaned over to take Mia out of the bath and hold her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head and began swaying back and forth as he started talking away with her while snuggling her nice and close. 

Y/N watched them and felt as if she could cry.

With being born a week and a half early, Mia was the average weight of a baby; but on that average's lower end. She was just so tiny and delicate and seeing her dad hold her made her seem even smaller. But Y/N loved it. She loved the two of them with her entire existence.

However, she quickly snapped out her trace and moved to grab Mia's towel so that she wouldn't get cold. Auston winked at her as she placed the towel around Mia's back but just held it around her instead of swaddling her in it right away. Y/N didn't want to interrupt Mia's and Auston's skin to skin time one bit.

After a moment, Auston said he could feel her getting a little cold, so he and Y/N worked together to get her all wrapped up again. Once they were done, Auston carefully shifted Mia in his arms then walked over to stand in front of the mirror.

"You did it, Mia!" He said as he looked at his daughter's reflection in the mirror. "You've officially had your first bath."

At that, Y/N smiled. She then walked up behind Auston so she could wrap her arms around his middle, pull herself close so that her chest was pressed against his back, then made eye contact with him in the mirror as she placed a kiss on his shoulder.

"I love our life," she said softly, which made Auston grin as he turned around in her hold.

"I do too," he responded and leaned down to give her a proper kiss, still being mindful of Mia, of course. "And I love you, more than anything. I wouldn't change a thing."

"Me neither. I love you so, so much."

"Glad the feelings mutual," he chuckled before kissing her once more.

"Now I think it's time we get this little one to bed, and then maybe we can watch an episode of One Tree Hill before we sleep too."

"I love that plan."

[ethanramseyyy]

OPEN HEART: THIRD YEAR CHAPTER 1 thoughts and opinions

Wow. Wow. Wow. What a start to the new book. I am so excited with the start of the third book. One because I missed my husband and two because Open Heart is just my favourite thing ever. One thing though @playchoices where’s our baby Naveen?

Obviously the chapter opened up with explaining the changes to the hospital which by the way are INSANE. As much as I love the new and mordenised look, a part of me does miss the classic Edenbrook Hospital we have seen in the past 2 books. I really hope we get a fourth book and I know that the third book has only just started but when Elijah was talking about what was going to happen after their last year of residency, it really made me want to experience the rest of MCs career and obviously the more time we have with Ethan (Or whoever you are romancing) the better. I also like how ALL of the LIs were incorporated into this chapter and it wasn’t entirely Ethan based, because I know that annoyed a lot of people during book 2. RAF. I am so unbelievably happy that they kept Raf in the book, I mean they kind of had to but that’s besides the point. I am so happy for the Raf stans. YOU GOT YOUR MANS BACK.

I picked Ethan to tell me more info because I need to spend as much time with him as possible since I have to wait an entire week to see him again. BITCH when he took our hand I nearly choked. It is so so so strange to see him actually make a public display of affection considering what we went through in the past 2 books to even get him to admit he was in love with us. And our friends reactions. I adore the fact that they are so happy for MC and Ethan. I don’t think I will be the only person to say this butttt.... Leland DEFINITELY has a hidden meaning for taking on Edenbrook. There is something dodgy about him and I am glad that Ethan has also noticed it. I have a feeling Leland Blooms storyline about the takeover of Edenbrook is far from being over.

When I saw the nurses desk it was so bitter sweet. For a second I expected Danny to pop up from behind his desk and say Hey. He did not deserve to die and I will NEVER be over it. But anyway I obviously had to play every single diamond scene given to us for the opening chapter and so I accepted the chance to spend some time with our friends and take a tour of the new and improved facilities. I have to admit the new hospital sounds amazing. Almost too good to be true if I am being honest. I LOVED the little playful scene between MC and Elijah. We can all appreciate the fact that Elijah needs to be protected at all costs. And then it got a bit awkward for me because we had to choose who to have a massage with and obviously I am romancing Ethan and he wasn’t an option so I picked Bryce because why the hell not. I obviously didn’t pick any romantic options with him but I do love Bryce just not like my main man Ethan. I appreciate that the other LIs aren’t being as sidelined as they were in the previous book. Even though I am romancing the main LI of the book, it still angered me that so many people missed out on any interaction with their chosen LI in book 2.

My poor baby Baz. When it showed how sad he was, I was ready to fight anyone who had made him feel that way. And then he dropped the bombshell at the end of the chapter that he was leaving PERMANENTLY. I WILL NEED 2-3 WORKING DAYS TO PROCESS THIS INFORMATION. If he actually leaves I will be heartbroken. I love his character but I am very interested to find out why he is leaving which I presume we will find out in the next chapter. DR HARPER EMERY IS DEAD MEAT IF SHE THINKS SHES GETTING ETHAN. Is it just me or was she flirting with our man the ENTIRE time. Little does she know we spent some quality time together in a certain on call room 😏. I swear if she try’s anything with him, I will not hold back. It’s such a strange route for PB to go down with trying to make MC jealous over Ethan and Harper. To be honest I’ve always loved Harper but she WILL NOT have Ethan. Leland taking away Ethan’s leadership privileges was not okay. I enjoy dating my boss husband thank you very much. I think it makes MC and Ethan’s relationship that much more scandalous if you ask me. I did enjoy the bit were everyone agreed with Ethan despite Leland clearly trying to undermine his power. Never going to happen Leland. Get over it.

Then came the diamond scene where MC, Jackie and Sienna went shopping for the cocktail mixer. I did like the fact that we got a small scene of us actually going shopping for the outfit rather than having to pay diamonds just for the outfits. As I said before I did every diamond option possible considering the fact it is the opening chapter and to be honest I would have done it regardless because MC looked BOMB in that dress.

What made purchasing the dress even better was the fact that all eyes were on MC when she walked into the party. I chose to talk to Elijah because I just love him and I couldn’t say no to him. This meant that I got to see Zaid. Now I am not sure if everyone got to see Zaid or it was different depending on who you chose to speak to but I loved seeing him. I feel like we saw Zaid all the time in the first book and then he kinda just disappeared during the course of the second book so I am glad he made an appearance.

ETHAN GOD DAMN RAMSEY. Did you guys see that suit?!?! I almost choked to death he looked that good. And then that little cut scene!!! I think my family thought I was being murdered I screamed that loud.

OBSESSED.

And then we got the option for a ‘private, passionate end to the evening’ and lord knows I said yes. I know I keep saying this but I love that all 4 LIs were an option. The fact that scene was ONLY 18 diamonds. Bargain if you ask me. If any of you have watched Greys Anatomy it really reminded me of when Meredith and Derek had THAT scene at the prom. If you have watched it you know what I am talking about. Anyway, every single bit of that scene was perfect. When it gave us the option of him taking charge or MC, I was like BITCH we are in for a real fucking treat today.

After the absolute dream end to the evening spent with out man, we found out what was wrong with our patient because hello MC is the best damn doctor at Edenbrook. And you all know I picked the option that said ‘I am surprised that Emery didn’t figure it out’. Yes I know I am petty but Ethan and her are getting on TOO well considering they are exes so I have to claim what’s mine. Then Dr. Baz Mirani thought it was okay to announce that he was leaving the diagnostics team permanently. That better not mean he is leaving Edenbrook because I will put a stop to that straight away. Also, I need to know why because Baz is genuinely one of my faves and I really don’t want him to go.

I would LOVE to hear what everyone’s thoughts were on this chapter. Did you like it? Why do you think Baz is leaving? Do you think Leland has good intentions?

[brandyovereager]

The Best Possible Arrangement

So excited to publish my first Kataang fic! I’ve been bouncing around ideas to write these two for a while now, and I finally finished something :)

Massive thanks to the beautiful @uh-ohspaghettio for all the encouragement and brainstorming sessions. This would not exist without her.

Read it on AO3

Summary: In an alternate universe where Katara and Aang never kissed or expressed their feelings for one another, Katara finds herself in an unpleasant situation. In order to be recognized as her father’s successor, the Tribe’s council decides she must be married. When faced with a group of undesirable suitors, Aang proposes an alternate solution that toys with emotions the two thought they’d suppressed years ago.

--

Katara was appalled.

It only took her a few seconds to go from appalled to near-seething.

After the war, the Northern and Southern Water Tribes developed a stronger relationship and many people in the Northern Tribe migrated down to live in the Southern. There was a more significant exchange of culture and ideas, contributing in part to the predicament Katara now found herself in.

Her father, Hakoda, had been chief of their tribe ever since she could remember. It had never affected her much, as in the South there wasn't much pomp and circumstance associated with the title. All it had ever meant was that when the men went off to fight in the war, her father was their leader.

The title of Chief in the Northern Tribe came with much more regalia, and with the post-war intermixing, the life of Katara's family had changed significantly.

They now lived in a palace, one bent out of ice by the best benders in the South Pole. Her presence was now requested at dinners and other receptions with foreign dignitaries. She was expected to dress often in finery unlike anything she was used to, draped across her by maidens specifically assigned as her attendants.

It was uncomfortable to say the least.

Katara was used to wearing clothing designed for function. It mattered more to her that she could bend in her outfits than that she looked elegant. She was used to informal activities and practicing her bending whenever and wherever she pleased. While she still did this to some extent, she now had to deal with pompous old men who found this unbefitting of a 'princess'.

She had no problem telling the sexist degenerates where to shove it, but this often got her (and her father) into trouble.

On top of all these unpleasantries that came with being the Chief's daughter, apparently there was something far more distasteful expected of her.

Sokka was the eldest of the two siblings, and the expected choice for Hakoda's heir. However, a month ago Sokka had pulled Katara aside and explained to her his wish to remain the Tribe's emissary, leaving her as their father's successor. Katara was more than happy to take Sokka's place--with their father’s full support--but the elderly misogynists on the council were not so pleased.

Since the siblings informed them of their intentions, the councilmen had been scrambling to find any reason to prevent Katara becoming Chief, and up until an hour ago it seemed they had come up with nothing. She should have known this would take more of a fight.

The roadblock they decided to place in her way: marriage. The council came to the agreement that she could not assume the mantle of heir while still unwed. They had called her into their chambers to tell her she was unfit to lead without a husband.

It was infuriating. She was sick to her stomach with how much she hated the very idea. It was degrading, sexist, and the perfect trap for them to undermine her. Her father agreed, and had spoken some choice words of his own to the councilmen, but they were unshakable.

She had two options in front of her: One, relinquish the title of heir to Sokka, who--being already married--was considered fit to lead by the council's new rule. Two, marry and have the council go behind her back and consult her husband on Chief's matters instead.

Becoming Chief didn't matter too much to Katara--she was only assuming the responsibility because Sokka didn't want it--but the councilmen's blatant prejudice against her made her determined to win. She would be Chief, and they would respect her as such, even if it meant she had to freeze each of them to their council seats.

---

By the time Katara got back to her room she was so worked up that she was likely to either scream or sob if someone even touched her. She was surprised to find someone waiting for her.

It was exactly who she wanted to see.

She didn’t know he was back yet, but she was overjoyed to see him right there in her bedroom.

Aang was her best friend. Growing up in the South Pole, the only one around her age was Sokka. The siblings were close, but she hadn’t had a real friend until they found Aang. Since then she had grown to love Toph, Suki, Zuko (begrudgingly), even Mai and Ty Lee, but Aang would always be her best friend. Katara doubted any other relationship she had would ever reach the level of connection she had with him. Their personalities were different in many ways, but they shared the same morals and unwavering hope that made them a perfect team. Even their differences complemented each other.

In the back of her mind Katara had always wondered what a relationship with him...of another kind...would be like. Would they connect so perfectly on that level as well? There had been times she thought he harbored feelings of that nature for her, but each moment Katara thought he was about to mention it, he didn’t. She’d since given up on such fantasies.

That didn’t stop her from wondering.

Despite spending the majority of her time in the South Pole, Katara never had to go too long without seeing Aang. He travelled often--required at various meetings and kerfuffles that occurred as the nations re-established peace--but he had a good percentage of time to himself. He chose to spend that time with her. His last venture had taken him to Ba Sing Se, where he was supposed to spend three weeks with stuffy diplomats, but he’d somehow managed to make it back in two. It was perfect timing.

He’d know how to handle this situation. There was no one she trusted more to do so. Whether he would help her find a solution, or simply comfort and ease her mind, she’d leave his presence better than when he found her. That’s just how it was with him.

Aang turned from where he was sitting on her bed to greet her with a smile, quickly fading into concern when he registered the look on Katara's face.

He immediately rose from the bed and engulfed her in a tight embrace. She buried her face into his chest, letting the tears start to fall as she took comfort in her best friend's hold.

It took some time, but she eventually calmed enough to explain the news she'd received in the council-room. She pulled back from Aang’s arms and sat on her bed--motioning for him to sit beside her. Soon enough, she was venting all of her emotions out to the airbender.

"They've managed to come up with a rule that ensures I will never truly lead the Tribe. No matter what I choose, they will never consider me their Chief. They will either cast me aside in favor of Sokka, or doom me to an unhappy marriage where I'll always be second to my husband in their eyes. Either way, they'll never respect me."

Somewhere in the middle of her talking, her tone turned from enraged to exhausted. It felt hopeless, like they'd managed to get her trapped.

Aang appeared thoughtful for a second, before grabbing her hand and looking steadily into her eyes.

"Becoming Chief, that is what you want, right?"

His voice was calm and firm, confirming her desires before he went on. She nodded her head.

"That's what Sokka and I decided. He and Suki wanted to continue their travels as emissaries and I want to stay here and help repair our tribe."

"Ok, then we're going to find a way for you to do that."

"One of the things I love about you is how hard you fight for what you want, no matter who tries to get in your way. When Pakku refused to teach you waterbending, you challenged him to a bending match in front of the whole tribe. When Sokka told you to stop healing the people in that Fire Nation village, you turned around and did it anyway. If you've decided to do something, there is no stopping you, and we're going to do the same with this."

"How, Aang? I have no good options here. As much as I might want to, I can't just waterbend all those arrogant men into recognizing me as my father's heir." That comment drew a chuckle from Aang.

"They did give you a way to become Chief, as unwelcome an option as it may be. It'll just take some searching to find a husband who won't try to undermine you."

"I don't exactly get much choice with that--another stupid tradition from the North--the noble young men of the tribe have to be given the opportunity to marry into the royal family. There would be a competition of sorts between them to see who 'earned' me as their wife." The disgust on her face was clear as she spoke the words.

It was terrible news though. Noblemen competing for her hand was just as demeaning as the council refusing to make a woman Chief. She would be treated like a prize. It was sickening.

It also meant that most of the young men there were sexist jerks themselves who only saw her as a path to higher status. Many of them would be happy to undermine her.

"That's awful, Katara." She gave a sad nod in acknowledgement.

"There is the possibility that one of the young men would make an acceptable husband." That elicited a small scoff from Katara, and a responding snicker from Aang.

"You can agree to meet them first, you know, before you decide? Just see what your options are before you give up on it. Then if you decide it's not worth it, you can leave being Chief to Sokka."

Aang began to softly rub his thumb back and forth on her hand. It was a familiar and comforting gesture.

"I know your choice seems terrible either way, but I'll be here to help make sure you end up with the option that makes you happy. You're not going to be doomed to a life you can't stand. We're going to find a way for you to be happy, no matter what, you got that?"

Katara felt his arms softly wrap around her and squeeze tight. From her cocoon within her best friend's chest she let out a soft "ok".

[kiarcheo]

     Hidden Histories    -    There Is No Future for Us as a Pair     

The one where Katherine Howard and Catherine Parr meet during the early days of Anna’s marriage, they keep making plans and the king keeps messing them up.

Also on Ao3

AN: This was way bigger in my head, but my imagination is leagues ahead of my writing skills and this is all I could do.

Historical accuracy? Never heard of it. Timelines are skewed and tweaked, I mostly made Cathy younger and moved forward some events in her life. Should go without saying that while I used historical events as main guidelines and framework, I ignored some and invented others.

English is not my first language and I didn’t even try to attempt a 16th-century English. Also royal life and Tudor times in general are not my expertise.

TLDR: it’s a fanfiction, bear with me and my inaccuracies.

We all know how Katherine’s story ended so…yeah. There is that too.

                                           ———————————-

‘Lady Herbert, your presence is required.’ The two women who had been walking arm in arm in the royal gardens stop.

Lady Catherine Latimer pats her sister’s hand. ‘Go, Anne, don’t worry about me.’

‘Lady Howard, I entrust you with my dear sister.’

Catherine holds off her tongue to remind Anne that she is the oldest and doesn’t need looking after as she would have had if they had been alone. With her husband’s reputation in tatters, the last thing she wants is to undermine her sister’s position at court in any way. Not after she had managed to maintain her position as lady-in-waiting to the new queen Anna von Kleve after having similarly served the three previous queens.

‘Lady Latimer.’ The young girl offers her arm.

‘I do not wish to take you away from your duties.’ Catherine nonetheless takes it as politeness demands. ‘And please, there is no need for such formalities.’

‘My presence is not as necessary as Lady Herbert’s.’ Between Anne’s experience and the queen’s limited knowledge of English as well as of the working of court, Anne had taken on more responsibilities in the Queen’s household. ‘I dare say my absence might not even be noticed.’

‘Her Majesty seems to appreciate your presence.’ Catherine had not been at court for many days, but she has already noticed how the queen seems to favour the young maid of honour. Malevolent chatter is that it is because the queen sees something of herself in the girl, both floundering in roles they are not fit for, Lady Howard’s missteps and the queen’s chuckling reactions attributed not to benevolent demeanour but rather to ignorance that a blunder has been made in the first place.

‘It’s a pleasure and an honour to serve the Queen.’ It is probably the first time that Catherine is tempted to truly believe such words are said in total honesty.

‘The Queen is fortunate to have such a loyal lady at her service.’

‘Your words flatter me, Lady Latimer- Lady Catherine.’ She corrects herself at the pointed look she receives.

‘I’m merely stating what I observe, Lady Howard.’

‘Katherine.’

Catherine barely manages to avoid stumbling, surprised at the familiarity of being addressed by her first name.

‘I mean, my name is Katherine, if we are avoiding formalities.’

Katherine’s presence is indeed not as frequently required as Anne’s is, and while Catherine would object to her sister that she doesn’t need a chaperone, she doesn’t mind as much when it’s Katherine. The two quickly establish a friendship, Catherine finding out why the Queen seems to enjoy the younger girl’s company so much.

‘I see you have made a friend.’ Anne had commented one day as Katherine had warmly bid farewell to Catherine after Anne had informed her that the Queen had called for her.

‘Why do you sound so surprised?’

‘It is simply…unexpected.’

‘I thought you liked her.’ Anne isn’t one to speak ill of anyone (likely wouldn’t have been able to keep her position in the royal household with four different queens if she had been), but Catherine knows her sister and her tell-tale signs of silent dislike.

‘I do. She is a lovely girl. A bit flighty, but she is still young. Just not…particularly bright.’

The more time Catherine spends with Katherine, the more she disagrees with her sister. Except on the lovely part. While Katherine is younger than both of them, she is not even the youngest among the queen’s household. Anne had started at Queen Catherine of Aragon’s court at thirteen, but the usual age for appointment as maid-of-honour is sixteen.

Her vivacity, which got her reprimanded more than once by older attendants, rarely fails to put a smile on her companions’ faces, whether they are her fellow maids-of-honour or the Queen herself. Catherine has little doubt that it is often done on purpose, as when spending time together Katherine tends to be more on the quiet side.  

And the last part of Anne’s assessment. Catherine wonders if perhaps her sister is conflating education and intelligence. Few women (and not many men, if you ask Catherine) are as educated as Anne and Catherine had the privilege to be and Catherine often despairs over how many brilliant minds have been squandered because of it. Katherine has a hunger for knowledge that Catherine is only happy to help satiate, and she is quick on the uptake. While not particularly scholarly her contributions to their conversations are usually thoughtful and intelligent…once she gets over her reservations over sharing her thoughts. Catherine would like to have a chat with whoever had repeatedly told that she is stupid and nothing more than a pretty face. Catherine had even witnessed Katherine trying to learn German while helping the Queen practicing English. Having learnt foreign languages herself she has doubts on the effectiveness of the methods used, but she commends the attempts nonetheless.

While Catherine enjoys their intellectual conversations, the ones that she treasures the most are more private, personal ones. It surprises even herself when the subject turns to the Pilgrimage of Grace and she doesn’t shy away from the topic, despite it bringing up less than pleasant memories (or downright terrifying).

It’s during one of those chats that Katherine confesses that life at court is not what she expected and perhaps not something she would choose again, if given the choice. Catherine offers her a position at Snape Castle, mostly in jest. Katherine however expresses real interest in the proposition.

‘I thought you liked your duties.’

‘Oh, I like serving Her Majesty very much.’ Sometimes what it is not said speak louder than what it is. ‘Do you think your husband would have any objections?’

‘I would need to ask, but I do not think so.’ They don’t exactly have people rushing to work for them after what happened, the family reputation still tarnished even years later. ‘But leaving court for…It would be a demotion.’ She feels the duty to remind her.

Katherine doesn’t seem to mind too much and in her mind Catherine agrees that her friend is not well-suited for life at court. And not because she is not educated or smart enough or anything of that sort. The thought had been cemented the day Catherine had learned of what had happened while Katherine was under her step-grandmother’s care. Katherine had just vaguely hinted at it, but unfortunately Catherine thinks that there is no woman who would not get quickly what she was talking about. Which was dangerous and what worried Catherine the most.

Everyone knew about the uprising in the North and the rebels taking the castle and holding her and her stepchildren hostage, and what she had shared, while deeply personal, could not damage her reputation (not more than it already was due to her husband’s somewhat hazy role in the rebellion, at least). But Katherine’s past, if known, could ruin her. She supposes this is where the naivety of young age came to play. While touched by the trust showed, Catherine had made sure to impress upon Katherine that she was to not talk, mention, or even hint at it with anyone else ever again.

Catherine is aware that she can’t change the past and protect the younger girl from those men, but perhaps she can help now. If she moves in with her at Snape Castle, she would be safe from the nest of vipers that it is the court, always ready to stab you in the back. Maybe she could even find her a nice husband. Perhaps even her stepson John; they are close in age and it would allow Catherine to keep Katherine close.

                                                             —–

Catherine watches as the red-haired child dances, carefree, under the loving gaze of the girl playing the lute. Lady Elizabeth had been called at court by her father, the king, to meet his new queen, and Katherine had told Catherine how she had quickly came to care for the young girl, who was also her first cousin once removed.

Katherine halts the music when she notices Elizabeth has stopped dancing and is looking behind her.  She turns around, standing up once she sees who their spectator is.

‘Lady Elizabeth, this is Lady Catherine Latimer, a good friend of mine.’  

‘Have I been summoned?’ Elizabeth asks sending a disappointed look towards Katherine, after the protocol of introductions and greetings is over.

‘No,’ Catherine sends her a comforting smile. It seems that the affection her friend feels is reciprocal. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye as I’m about to leave.’

‘Is the King sending you away too?’

She is left speechless for a second before recovering. ‘No, I was visiting, but my presence is now required at my husband’s side, he’s unwell.’

‘Where?’

Catherine welcomes the childlike curiosity with a smile. ‘Yorkshire.’

‘I’ve never been there.’

‘You’re always welcome to visit.’ She exchanges a look with Katherine. Hopefully she will be visiting both of them there.

‘Would you like me to leave?’ They look at the seven-year-old as if they had forgotten she was there. Elizabeth doesn’t wait for a reply, she bids farewell to Catherine and turns around. The adults share a guilty glance as the child starts pickling at the lute.

Catherine grabs Katherine’s hands. ‘I will ask him as soon as I arrive. And I’ll write you.’

Katherine impulsively draws her into a hug. ‘I look forward to seeing you again soon.’

The situation, however, quickly spirals out of their control, too fast for their letters to keep up with. In a little more than a month Queen Anna is first asked to leave court, then her marriage is annulled, and the king gets married again.

Catherine finds herself visiting her sister, who is once again lady-in-waiting for a new queen, this time Queen Katherine Howard. And it’s her sister she has to thank if she is currently spending some time alone with her friend, after Anne had led Elizabeth away.

‘She seems happier.’ Catherine comments. The child had greeted her as cheerfully as protocol allowed, asking if she had come to visit her new mother.

‘One of the few good things to come out from this situation. And you visiting, of course.’ Katherine attempts to put back a smile on her face, which had fallen as soon as the company left and the door had closed behind them, leaving them alone. ‘Mary hates me.’

‘Katherine.’ Catherine frowns. She hates to see the younger girl like this.

‘I don’t blame her.’ She shakes her head. ‘She liked Anna. And doesn’t like having a step-mother several years younger than herself.’ She sits down. ‘I just hoped she could be a friend. God knows if I need one.’

‘I’m your friend.’ Catherine sits down next to her and takes her hands in her own.

‘And yet when I think of you as a friend, I feel oddly disappointed.’ Katherine squeezes her hands, before slowly and purposely leaning in. The intentions are clear, there is no need to have been married twice to get it, but she is giving Catherine all the time needed to move away. She doesn’t.

Their lips press together in a chaste kiss.

‘We can’t.’ Catherine leans away abruptly. ‘You are-’

‘Don’t say too young. If I’m old enough to be queen, I’m old enough to…at least for once I wanted to see how it feels to kiss someone because I want to.’ She trails off, defeated. ‘I apologise for making you uncomfortable.’

‘It is not that.’ And it’s not. She is not uncomfortable. Not because of her age, at least. The reason why she, and many others, are uncomfortable with the King marrying Katherine is not necessarily her age, but rather his. After all, Catherine herself had been Katherine’s age when she married the first time….but her husband had been in his twenties, not one year shy of fifty. And also, not the King. ‘You are my queen. This is treason.’

‘Forgive my foolishness.’ Katherine makes to stand up, but Catherine holds her down, not letting go her hands.

‘Perhaps we could revisit our plans in the future.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘In my personal experience, husbands too often leave their younger wives alone too early…and if such a terrible event happened, it would be my duty to offer consolation and support to a dear friend-’

‘How come kissing the Queen is treason,’ Katherine hisses, leaning closer even if they are completely alone in the room, ‘but talking about the King’s death is fine?’

‘It was just a general observation. And taking an interest in the king’s age and health is not a crime.’ Catherine also lowers her voice. ‘Besides we know what happened to your cousin.’

Katherine pales, realisation dawning on her. ‘Forgive me, the last thing I ever wanted was to put you in danger.’

‘Don’t trouble yourself which such thoughts.’

‘You should stay far away from me.’

‘Katherine.’ Catherine cups her cheek to turn her head so she is looking at her. ‘I do not wish to.’

‘Me neither. I had planned to ask you to move to court.’ The younger girl chuckles bitterly.

‘I have plans to join Mary’s household. I am not sure how long John is going to last and-’

‘That is a way to make sure that we will not meet too often. I am sure Mary will do her best to avoid my presence as much as possible.’ Katherine tries to joke.

Indeed, they will not meet again.

It is Mary who brings Catherine the news of Katherine being stripped of her title and imprisoned. Mary considers Catherine a friend and knows of her soft spot for the young queen. Between Catherine and her sister Elizabeth, Mary doesn’t know whom Katherine’s strongest supporter is. And she doesn’t know who is going to take the news harder. Her sister, who loves to call the Queen mother, to their father’s apparent delight, or her friend, who had relentlessly tried to convince her to give a chance to the younger girl. Even as she is clearly trying not to crumble, Catherine takes the time to defend her friend after Mary makes a dig about Katherine’s age. They might have settled into a cordial relationship, but that is still a sore point for Mary. Catherine agrees that indeed Katherine had been quite young…how old would have she been at the time of the first ‘indiscretions’? She can see the realisation on Mary’s face, that either those accusations are false or they are true, and then she had been a victim and not at fault anyway.

Catherine spends two months hoping against reasons that Katherine will be spared, but as the Parliament introduces a bill that would make failure to disclose the sexual history of the queen consort to the king within twenty days of marriage treason and punishable by death, she knows it is only a matter of time. A bill of attainder is soon passed declaring Katherine guilty.

And if it was not enough, Catherine is not even able to mourn (her Katherine in secret, her husband – by now also dead – openly), because Henry chooses her as his next wife.

She can’t say no. Not to the king. Just like Katherine couldn’t. So she gets married once again, on 12 July 1543. The only thing that could have made it worse would have been marrying on the four months’ anniversary of Katherine’s death instead of the day before.

There are two constant thoughts in Catherine’s mind.

One is the promise she makes to herself, and in her heart to Katherine,  to do her best to take care of and love Elizabeth and Edward and be a good friend to Mary, just like Katherine would have tried and would have wanted.

The other is that Henry can’t die soon enough.

In the first year of Catherine’s marriage a new act of succession is introduced, which makes Mary and Elizabeth part of the succession once again.

Both Edward and Elizabeth would consider and call Catherine mother.

Ten years after Katherine’s death Queen Mary I will reverse the  Act  of  Attainder against her, albeit on the basis of a technicality and not of her innocence.

[thecrenellations]

Return of the Thief Notes, Part Two: The Book of Pheris, Volume 2, Chapters 1-5

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part One | Part Three | TaT)

Contents: Me losing my mind in multiple ways each chapter, helpful links, nighttime garden cousins, an Irene pun, notes from my second read, “mwt is just like going for it,” and “this is so fucked up and heartwarming.”

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Volume 2

Illustration

Book 2 bro

Now we’re caught up and changed forever by lots of things

What printer’s apprentice made this?

Elephants!

Chapter 1

175. me too, Costis, me too. I am so tired. (it’s hard to sleep when your brain and heart and everything are fizzing because you’re reading Return of the Thief for the first time and a new Queen’s Thief book for the last time) 

176. Klimun + Gerosthenes vibes [moon doodle]

Holes in documents. That’s cute

Gen!!! <3

Wtf Ansel was hoodwinked!

177. The Queen waited

They’re ridiculous

Hi Pheris

Wtf he stole her earrings for Melheret?!?

178. Excuse me??? What is this book (sleeveless leather tunic)

He still roams!!!

Tattoos!

179. a sentence I never fucking expected to read ever “The absence of tattoos…”

180. that’s interesting

Stacked like kindling wow oh dear

181. She wants him to move in lol

Lol sorry Ion

Did she just want them to leave the room?

182. I can’t with this… I can’t. Why is sex symbol Relius canon. (the play that featured him! It’s great, it’s great, it was just a lot to take in!)

Silver crown?

183. Cleon! Rude!

Did they call Costis to deck him?

Queen scene!! <3

184. This is an epic. Abt Costis. Dirty stranger

185. he’s “the high king”

Lol

187. prophet (Pheris sure makes Costis sound like one)

Shut up Piloxides

188. resources for war! (book launch foreshadowing part two! She talked a lot about this kind of thing as well, and recommended the book Alexander the Great and the Logistics of the Macedonian Army)

189. “we”

What were you gonna say (Gen almost says something to Costis part one)

193. RIP The Magus Archives … it was not to be. Yet.

194. Melenze’s doorstep. Why? Bc Melenze is Ferria’s dog. (idk dude that line from ACoK has just never left me)

195. This is … a big war

196. Oh gen

Nighttime garden cousins.

Chapter 2

197. wtf did Relius think of that play

Also … not a peep from the sacred mountain huh

198. wtf will happen with Cleon

with Erondites

with THE MOUNTAIN

a lot going on

everyone was in that room but Kamet! So close!

199. Cute Fordad + Gen friendship (I never said these notes would make me look smart)

Same 2 T + R! :) It’s not them is it? (I NEVER SAID THESE NOTES WOULD MAKE ME LOOK SMART)

Poor Teleus

200. gdi Gen

Excuse me? Is he worried for Pheris??? (taking his tablet)

They trust each other! C’mon!

Sure he has reasons

202. oh dear. :( that’s … the worst cover story

Also falling

203. wow almost like a story huh

Ula’s altar :(

Why haven’t we had a Gen and Costis scene IN THREE BOOKS

205. I just … I don’t know if he’s just miserable or if it’s all a plan. I feel like I should know it’s all a plan. But he really feels like he has far to go. He’s just a mess and the same and so different. (having a small Gen meltdown)

205. he did give him the gun

Odd that he missed Quedue

206. he’s gonna bite them (buckle up! it’s abdication time!)

207. Power. Power. Power. Power.

Thx 4 the editorializing Pheris

208. Gen is making choices. That’s a choice.

209. There’s KoA down the drain

Aaaand he’s Eugenides

“Eugenides stared into the future”

The page of like 3 different tumblr posts: Trophy husband, Library, No! yes!

210. make sure he doesn’t leave lol

211. Pheris :(

Also fucked up timing for Irene

I love them

212. again with the birthday book

He’s still the king in the narration

Go on the roof! So close!

213. EUGENIDES IS ALWAYS APPROPRIATE my motto

Viper! Bastard!

Oh shit. I love them.

214. “our treaty” “our queen”

AAAH! Wedding night!

Asked her to leave!

Smash Erondites and peace out, literally

215. a frank talk

HE SAID IT.

216. The Bructs?

Wait is this his grandfather (taking a moment to remember all about Susa)

Also that’s Costis territory

217. who is this lion

218. #3 to Gen.

219. hmmm ring

There’s been a lot to unpack wow.

Did this happen, Pheris? Pheris?! 

220. Atté atté!

(Dear reader: for some strange reason, I completely forgot about taking notes on the final pages of this chapter. These notes are from when I reread those pages a few minutes later.)

Erondites full cup to brimming

The Pherises…

We must think of others before ourselves … occasionally

I do not like Orutus

Don’t fence Costis in! Does this count as prison? No (I had a square on my bingo board for “someone ends up in prison” ... but it turned out to be for someone else)

221. damn Costis

Aaah

Costis …

Irene… your jokes (I mean, it’s a joke, but also it is very real for her.)

SHE SAID IT!

My heart

222. where is Relius going?

SPYING

What you see and what you think it means (I love these instructions/this quote so much)

So are Susa + Erondites 2gether or what (listen ... proximity generates meaning in these books)

Also, like

What can

I say

WHAT CAN I SAY (Hell yeah! Never more glad to be wrong about the magus)

[page long list of doubles and parallels - from Cleons and Pherises and Ions to god-character and character-character connections]

Also the fact that in KoA and TaT Relius was like … oh … no … I just live a gentle life being friends with my king and queen and being scholarly. But no. He’s SPYING and TRAVELING MYSTERIOUSLY and has MANY LOVERS and also has been WITH TELEUS ALL ALONG and there is a PLAY written about him and he has a ~messenger~ network and PLAYS THE FLUTE and DOESN’T MAKE HIS BED and DISLIKES MATH and oh and he’s VERY HANDSOME! (Yes I was losing it, I hope my note from after the poem helps show some of the feelings behind this rant.)

Fucking … Wine shop. Should have known.

Chapter 3

224. ominous

Hello magus!

Sophos … babe (his impatience!)

225. Magus … cool your socks that’s your bff (he’s just describing Helen’s dead body! Fun!!!!)

In the van

That was good I love them

Why is it Couples Hour?

226. finally we’re out of the capital of Attolia

Ok they’re so cute

She was NEVER Helen in ACoK narration! 

Also – Pheris. This is all Pheris. (Pheris plus information others told him!)

227. Bringing each other up to date – that’s their thing. Talking forever

All this talk of shooting Therespides

228. EX FUCKING SCUSE ME (time to learn a lot about the country of Eddis)

He was 15! (or almost 15)

He didn’t know! Or did he!

The MoW!

All thru Pheris

Fuck you magus

When did he know

229. EXCUSE ME

The emeralds?

Assumed the worst?

That classic quote about little to do with winter but with “seducing other people’s lovers”

230. yeah Sophos that’s a lost cause (“spare me my blushes”)

Also she didn’t answer you

What are they laughing about (the generally nameless men we’re learning many things about this chapter)

233. Gen I think it’s fair to say that was a mistake

234. wtf Gen

GEN! he just. Had those. (the jewels!)

Her crown

I cannot

235. Gen!

237. Crash

Her CHANGES

238. THESE TWO

239. called annux

Yeah it’s like … a family meeting (the war council)

Bring your father to work day

241. Oh no.

Stenides! Boagus!!!!!!!

EDDIS!

Wolves! Lol

mwt is just like going for it

243. aww

Eddis > Boagus > Gen

244. Yeah I’m with her on this. (“if that doesn’t frighten you, it should”)

Chapter 4

245. Gen and Magus scene yes!

Two people affected by his long hair (Gen and the magus? I think?)

Pheris are you there?

Gen … you used to wish yourself out of existence

Wow

Hair vanity

Yeah also battlefield

Ion is a darling tbh

248. Is he. Is he going to fight all of them

Also they are all his cousins huh

AULUS! I liked you!

Same, Hilarion

Taking a page out of Costis’s book?

You have definitely seen it before. (I mistook his lie for truth!)

Will Costis hear about this? (please)

249. #4 to Gen!

Pheris where are you

Why doesn’t the Continent want to conquer them (do I get partial credit for this)

A tattoo!

250. “Do not offend the gods”

Honestly … too bad Helen DIDN’T do this

251. he said he’d give all he had

I’m sure there are rules

253. Just men? :( (let everybody fight him!)

Ornon is back! I mean, of course he is

Also yea they practice

HELLO ORNON

A house being built … or one knocked down. Nice

Is Teleus in on this?

254. Pheris called him my king!

255. I wanna know which guards though

:( he’d been faking

Kicked him in the head (ouch)

256. “when he fell”

I … don’t like this

He never gives up. The thieves don’t have limits. They have flash points.

Stepped on his hand

“Enough Gen” – what Irene said?

257. :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

The magus. I forgot he was there.

The magus said … nevermind …

The magus is probs very into this as a cultural thing. Also he was talking to the MoW

Pigeon. The sky. :( Like in TT (OH BOY, THE SKYYYY)

If there was a god, Pheris would see…

258. They’ve, they’ve been through a lot.

Oh god what’s next

259. I … no. not in his arms to the palace.

The palace where….

The stairs…

They are all 3 lookers. Basilisks and brass and lead

I hate this. But I love this.

I will someday see this differently.

Ah yes… the grunt. Approval.

260. Honestly, this is so fucked up and heartwarming. These books.

Lol don’t defend Hilarion, we know him

Eddis visits him.

Attolia watches him.

261.WTF Gen. I knew it. Why.

Crying or laughing? Crying? :(

How does this not undermine her now that he is her king?

But … what he wouldn’t do for her.

262. “he did fine”

This book is like… Reasons Gen Says Sorry

So, so… - Helen

GEN!

263. I am right. I am always right. It’s a curse.

Helen :( :( :(

The amount of times these people have seen him beaten.

He’s like … self destructive, but in a way that gives himself more power. Which he hates.

Gen, let them in. Let them in.

Chapter 5

264. honeycomb

OH NO. is it happening?

266. I’m just supposed to accept this?!! What does it mean?!

267. … a my king moment … important

But like … now can he fight?

Caryatid? [doodle after I looked it up]

268. Teleus!

C’mon Teleus. Everyone you love or respect loves him!

Honestly Pheris and Teleus … not a duo I expected

THESE TWO ARE SO DEDICATED TO TELLING HIM THAT! Ok I should chill. At least he said “may.” These are like … Pheris’s life lessons.

Honestly… I love that Teleus likes poetry, or at least likes it for Relius.

269. Lol Legarus. It’s been years! I mean, I guess that was a big deal for him… (almost being executed is a big deal for most people.)

Does he not love Gen because of Relius? Because Gen manipulated him? Because he keeps sending away his successor? Why on earth not! Hop on that train! (...)

It’s interesting that their relationship is the one that touches Pheris, not Gen and Irene. Hm.

Also … “Idiot.” The parallels.

“relatively gently” (it’s so good)

~Teleus here to talk about love~

This book is full of surprises.

270. That is NOT the bright side, Gen (“I could use my newfound authority to insist on going into battle”)

271. BUNNY! Wtf is a wineglass warrior

Very cute everyone, good job.

Still sad about Helen’s tears.

271. Gen. Don’t say these things. [volcano doodle]

272. SEE I was worried about this! The doubt!

I am not ok

This is TOO MANY Eddisian Revelations (Lader time)

Yeah. Wow.

273. Cleon x5

I … his grandfather

No.

Baby Helen begging

How did Pheris get this scene

Gen chose Cleon for his plan

275. IRENE WITH THE STATS!

276. lol Gen

My brother Sounis!

277. Missing Relius club.

Where is he though

Yes! Sophos Gen food fight!

Grapes!

“Wisdom”

He’s “the king” here and in KoA bc that’s the story but also that’s who he is to Pheris and Costis

278. So how did that Irene and MoW meeting go anyway?

How does Aulus know???

Thief short story! Probably terrible to reread, oh no

279. Are … are Aulus and Boagus together???! (“his slightly smaller partner”)

This feels … potentially traumatic … but fun? Idk

Fleece

280. This dang book. No rules!

The chandelier! So dramatic!

Mwt had … a lot to put into this one. A lot. A lot.

283. “not the Thief he was chasing”

284. The queens! The salute!

He can’t give this up.

Official Worries:

100,000 soldiers heading towards Kamet

Re: Lyopidus, Gen called Sophos his brother. Helen apparently might BE his sister. Temenus and Stenides are also going to a war where 9/10 will probably die.

Also

the MoW could have been a king if he’d stolen Helen’s throne. A lot there.

why does this book have the vibe of the library post, my comic from 2010, the king and queen interactions here, and the military tactics dream

[thebookofbri]

Things I Wish I Told My West Indian Parents - The Collective

Dear Kings and Queens , I come to you all with a warm heart of gratitude. I applaud your courage, your strength, and your voice! Thank you for trusting me enough to share these very sensitive thoughts and experiences that you have all held close to your heart. May these pieces serve as a R E L E A S E . May they BIND UP the negative impacts that they’ve caused and may they LOOSEN the beautiful souls that you all are evolving into.

Whether you are a viewer outside of the west Indian community, a west Indian parent, child(ren) of west indian parents, or a supportive friend, I ask you to open up your hearts and minds to these shared stories and experiences below:

“I wish I told my west Indian parents that disciplining your children doesn’t always have to mean putting your hands on us – A conversation here and there would’ve been enough. ”

_______________________________________________________________________

“ I wish I told my west Indian parents that  I was a bisexual”

_______________________________________________________________________

“I Wish I told my west Indian parents that I think I would’ve been into church wayyyyyyyyyyyyy more if not so forceful. Like I wish they would just talk to us as humans. Not as a thing. Don’t get me wrong I’m into church and love God. I’d give my life to stand up for him. But growing up I would’ve been this way if not so forceful”.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Communication especially about the uncomfortable topics like sex! Life isn’t just about education and working!

_______________________________________________________________________

“Growing up I was never truly allowed to express myself emotionally if physically. Like if I ever thought my parents were wrong and I dared to speak up about it no matter how respectful I was about it, I would get shut down disrespectfully as if I was in the wrong the whole time. It hurt me because I didn’t really know how to and it affected my school, work, and even personal/romantic relationships. I was also put under extremely high standards, this put a lot of pressure on me from and every young age. It was hard for me to learn how to let go, it was hard for me to learn it’s okay to not be perfect, it was hard for me to accept failure and truly I still struggle with it which also makes it hard for me to open up about things I’ve failed in or not being able to make those around me happy as I feel they should be”.

_______________________________________________________________________

Things I Wish I Told My West Indian Mom - When you tell your daughter “little girls should be seen and not heard” You’re teaching her to be submissive and passive. You’re teaching her that she has no voice and it’s not her place to speak on things she’s passionate of. You’re teaching her to sit by and watch men screw up everything consistently. Unfortunately, you’re teaching her that her voice doesn’t matter which is ruinous to her development because her voice is one of the most powerful tools in her belt.

_______________________________________________________________________

1. I wish I didn’t have to figure out that you loved me or that you were proud of me, I wish you would have just told me. For years, I worked to earn what should have been given to me as a birthright and in your inability to express this to me, I struggled to find it in myself and so sought it in the world. I didn’t find it there either.

2. The provisions you provided me, the house, the lights, the food, and the clothes; they were always appreciated but there was nothing I valued more and rarely received like your physical presence. You worked ceaselessly to provide and I will never forsake or undermine that sacrifice but you missed what mattered that most; the person I grew into. That person was more than a profession. That person was more than the education. That person was more than the expectations and I wish you had gotten to know her, because I struggled to find her, heal her, and forge her, to become her, and more likely than not; you’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her.

3. I wish your love language wasn’t physical discipline. In place of constructive affirmations or words of affections, your preferred course of action created more gaps in the love story you poorly narrated over the course of my life. It made resenting you second nature and resenting the world; first.

4. I wish I could carry the weight of dashed dreams, the ones you called expectations, as easily as I could shoulder the weight of the hurtful rhetoric that had become commonplace between us. Know that in spite of that, I tried and still try to live up to them, if only to give you the joy that seemed to escape you so often. If only to shrink the cost of your sacrifice.

_______________________________________________________________________

I Wish They Told Me That Silence is Not A Strength ! Since I was a little girl I’ve watched my mom bend over backwards for people whose sole intentions were to take advantage of her. Through and through, I always hear her say when people wrong you, just turn the other cheek. Now, don’t get me wrong it also says that in the Bible, but in the Haitian culture we tend to use The WORD out of context quite a lot. She was never truly happy, but never dared to speak up. Of course, I learned from her, after all, she was my mother ! THIS silence has broken me times and times again. Even when I was wronged in many ways imaginable, by family who was supposed to love me and care for me. Eventually, I came to the realization that if everything bad that happens to me I stay silent, then how can I help the next person who went through that situation or something? One of the main events in my life that lead to this realization was when a family member tried to abuse me sexually.

In that moment I told myself “ I can do two things scream so everyone in the house will come running, and he will stop or stay silent like I was taught” I went with option two.... I SCREAMED like my life depended on it. When asked why I was screaming, I explained that he ( my cousin) tried to touch me inappropriately. I was met with so much disappointment. My uncle asked me “ how could you even say that ? Are you trying to bring shame to my family ?”They told me to never repeat the occurrence of that event. It was killing me, so I decided to tell my dad . I was living with this family after my mom passed away, because it was too painful to stay in the house that mom and I shared almost all of my life. I told my dad all that happened, he was furious, and decided that I had to come back home.

My dad was the only person who believed me before I even uttered a word. I then moved to the United States, and told myself that this so called family was practically dead to me. The trauma was slowly killing me. At the age of 17, I decided to begin my own healing process, and started telling everyone who will listen, and I started to feel better because I could finally speak! I was free from the bondage of silence, It felt like I was almost completely in control of my voice again.

Finally, I decided to make the final process of my healing forgiveness. I forgave them, but I promised myself that I will never let anyone hurt by keeping my truth hidden, no matter how ugly it may be. I am now the mother of a beautiful littler girl, and I can never imagine her being in my position, but scared to speak up against injustices, unfair treatment, and things that make her uncomfortable.

Silence in our culture allow evil to repeat itself. Our culture is so good at sweeping things under the rug that it will eventually destroy our nation. However, I will continue to teach my daughter to always use her voice!!. I will teach her to be the voice of reason for her generation. I want her to know that I have her back no matter what, and I will choose to believe her story every single time. SILENCE is not a strength!

_______________________________________________________________________

I Wish my West Indian Parents Told Me that vulnerability does not equate weakness.

_______________________________________________________________________

I wish my west Indian parents told me that they loved me.

_______________________________________________________________________

“As an adult I struggle to have real genuine romantic relationships and friendships because I struggle with being emotionally intelligent and available to the ones I care about. I wish my parents taught me how to love – their example as a married couple seemed dull and lifeless. Their relationships with me and my siblings reflected that very same thing.”

_______________________________________________________________________

“As a young woman I wish my west Indian mother told me that being single after college and wanting to do my own thing is okay. I wish she told me that It didn’t and still doesn’t take a male figure to complete me”.

_______________________________________________________________________

“I wish my parents didn’t compare me to other people’s kids – all it did was embarrass me and make me feel like I wasn’t good enough”.

_______________________________________________________________________

“I wish my west Indian father would actually spend time with me – I know he has to work but his absence has impacted my life so much”.

_______________________________________________________________________

“I wish my west Indian parents knew that I am trying my best and that mental health is real. I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression and it’s not an excuse to do nothing - I just need help”.

_______________________________________________________________________

Thank you for your support and thank you for taking the time to read the experiences of others. .

I ask that you reflect on what you’ve read.

Has this raised any awareness for you?

Are there similarities or parallels that you can make from these stories in your own life?

If you are West Indian – what will you do differently as a parent? As a friend? As a daughter or son?

Any conversations you think you’d start?

Peace & Love Tribe 🌻❤️

[ask-sakky-bear]

Journal Entry #2: Ghosts

The second installment for my podcast idea - this is a much longer read!

Also, I don’t recall if I mentioned this in my first post about it, but this is set in a Naruto Alternate Universe - modern setting, no ninjas, but supernatural things exist. That sort of things.

[Sooo, I lied, it’s 4:39 in the morning and I can’t sleep, so might as well do something useful. Without further ado:

Date: July 15th..er, 16th, 2015

Time: now 4:40 am

Subject: Ghosts.

I figured the best way to approach this was to start with the subject I know most about. Or, have had the most experience with, at least. I guess we should start with what a ghost actually is.

According to a quick internet search, a ghost, as it is commonly thought of has...surprisingly many definitions. That definition seems to include the concept of a disembodied spirit. Merriam-Webster, the world’s leading authority on all things needing to be defined, lists seven definitions for the noun “ghost” - only four of them I believe are actually relevant to this discussion:

 The seat of life or intelligence - the soul;

Spirit or demon;

A disembodied soul: especially, the soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the “unseen world”, who appears to the living in bodily likeness; and

A faint, shadowy trace

Now, I also looked at a few other online and physical definitions, so no one can accuse me of not being thorough here, and they all say much the same thing. The soul of a dead person, a disembodied spirit, a “vague, shadowy, or evanescent form”, a spirit that haunts the living, etc, etc. So, everyone seems to agree with what they think a ghost is. They’re mostly right. Let’s unpack good ol’ MW’s definitions, first, to get a better picture of what a ghost is.

A soul.

...

Okay, to be completely honest with you, I really don’t want to unpack that one. There’s a lot of religious implications, philosophical debates, and shaky science wrapped up in that one word to include in this one entry. I might make a different entry in regards to that later, but for the sake of expediency and to stave off the migraine it’ll give me, I’ll just state this: One could consider the soul to be our consciousness, that...something, which makes us who we are individually. I think this is the simplest way to describe what I’ve encountered with ghosts. Anyway, I'm going to leave this bit for now and come back to it, as I believe it is important for our definition.

Second definition: I’m going to go ahead and explicitly state this on record that ghosts, spirits, and demons are not the same thing. Some might try to argue that a ghost is a type of spirit, but let me tell you, in my experience, they are very different entities and will get offended if you insist otherwise. 

You do not want to offend a spirit. 

Trust me. 

I’ll make further entries to explain myself later, but for now, that’s all I have to say. Back to the subject.

I believe the third definition is important to look at in defining ghosts, because it is the closest to the truth. Particularly in the aspects of “disembodied” and “unseen”.

Typically, a ghost does not have a physical body. This may confuse some people, if you take into account how many ghosts are able to interact with the physical world. I guess what I mean to say is that the body and ghost are generally two separate things, as a ghost can exist in cases where a body does not, be it cremated, or in various stages of decay. (Note: attention should be drawn to some instances where this is not the case; see for instance the entry on ju-on. End note). I am not quite sure what mechanism allows ghosts to physically affect the world around them, but perhaps future entries and study will shed some light.

I particularly believe that the lack of a physical body is what makes ghosts “unseen”. The limits of human physicality make it so that anything nonphysical is almost impossible to perceive. I say almost, because there have been several individuals I have met who exhibit the unnatural ability to see ghosts - myself included. So, to summarize here two aspects of ghosts that are important in its definition: a ghost is typically some disembodied entity that is unseen by most, but has the ability to affect the physical world.

Definition number four, and honestly, the most accurate depiction of a ghost: “A shadowy trace”. At the heart of it, a ghost is really just that. A trace. Or, to give a better word for it, an imprint. 

This is where I want to bring back in the early definition of a soul. Throughout our lives, we exist and experience the world. Our experiences shape who we are, how we think, and how we experience our experiences. I can’t say what exactly a “soul” as a single entity is or what happens to it after we kick the bucket, but I do know that occasionally a soul doesn’t disappear from this world. Like I said earlier: it makes an imprint.

How is an imprint made, you might wonder? Well, that’s where the whole thing with experiences comes into play. If you’ve lived a decently normal life and die without complaint, you don’t typically make a substantial imprint. Sure, I’ve come across the odd imprint of love for a place or person, but it’s usually not something pleasant that causes a ghost to form. Think murders, rights left unperformed, hating one's circumstances in life, that sort of thing.

As you can imagine, this tends to cause a lot of problems for the living. Oh sure, you usually come across the haunted house or temple, where you may get a whiff of cigar smoke or hear disembodied laughter in the room over. Those hauntings are pretty easy to get rid of - either you learn to ignore them or just have your local priest come round and say a few blessings. But sometimes, people die violently and suddenly and the emotions they feel at death are enough to make a stronger imprint. 

Those are your more..cookie cutter hauntings. And usually where I, or you know, an actual exorcist comes in. 

Like I mentioned before, I have no idea what allows these stronger imprints to actually interact with the living, but they can, and usually it’s not very pleasant.

I guess I should talk about how ghosts typically interact with the living, while I’m thinking about it. That’s a little tough to explain, from my experience. Actually, that’s a good way to explain it - an experience.

 Most people think that ghosts talk to people like how I’m talking right now. You know, straight, linear conversations. But that’s not the case. See, a ghost is just a memory the person leaves behind, hence an imprint, yadda yadda. Our only way to interact with them is to experience them. This usually takes the form of memories cropping up in dreams, unexplained scents/sounds, or a physical manifestation of the life or death of that individual. Above all, there’s the emotions that caused the ghost to manifest. Those are typically the worst, since they tend to cause personality shifts, paranoia, and the like.

Umm, maybe if I explain it like this, it’ll make a little more sense:

About 3 or 4 months ago, (Redacted) and I - sorry, my partner and I, came across a haunting. It was your typical set up - a family of four moves into a new house for surprisingly cheap and everything seems to be going okay. The neighbors are nice enough but a bit dodgy and uncomfortable with the house, like they know something unpleasant about it, but you write it off cuz this is a new leaf for you guys. 

Anyway, things are going fine for the first few weeks, when the weird things start happening. Footsteps from the second floor when no one’s there, feeling like something is in the room with you, an odd whiff of cologne that doesn’t belong to the husband, that sort of thing. They do the normal thing, find out that there had been a death in the house years prior and get a monk to come say a few blessings. Life goes on. Only, things start to get worse.

The most notable change was with the family’s youngest, a boy around 12. He was described to us as your typical introverted boy, shy but sweet and considerate. It’s usually like this, for some reason. Perhaps it’s the tendency to be on your own that draws ghosts to you like flies. Or maybe it’s something in your makeup that allows you to see ghosts and that in itself makes you introverted. I dunno. In any case, there’s a big enough shift in the kid’s personality to warrant alarm. The part that alarmed the mother the most, however, was the sudden...marks that showed up on the boy. Bruises that had no explanation and, the worst part, circular burns popping up in places under sleeves and pant legs. 

At first, the husband was suspected. Pretty logical conclusion, really, given all the signs. A husband in a stressful job, the boy suddenly becoming withdrawn, flinching from sudden contact, drawing images of a “monster” that supposedly came in at night to hurt him. Most of the child psychologists came to the same conclusion. A case would have been made, I think, if it wasn’t for two unexplained facts: first, the boy mentioned that there was an older figure who tried to protect him, though his older sister claimed she had no knowledge of anything bad happening, and second, the boy kept insisting that it wasn’t his father hurting him.

Most officers kept trying to explain these things away, but thankfully, the mother was introduced to me before any real litigation could happen and I was able to help. I do, however, want to take a moment to make something clear. I do not want to undermine the importance of social workers and the severity of child abuse. Not every instance of child abuse turns out to be a haunting, and I find these usually tend to be isolated incidents. The conclusions of the officers and social workers would have been correct in any other circumstance. The only reason litigation was withheld in this instance was because of the testimony of the young boy and my ability to sense the ghost in question.

Ah, crap, this is starting to get away from me. Um, alright. Long story short, there was in fact a ghost haunting the house, but only one, and that particular ghost was not the one harming the small boy, not intentionally at least. What had happened, apparently, was that the death in question had happened roughly ten years prior - a 15 year old boy was found hanging in his upstairs room. Ruled a suicide. The autopsy revealed what looked to be signs of abuse, but because the boy's father was some high ranking public figure, it was ruled as self harm in court. There was a lot of back and forth, but eventually, the father managed to get off on some minor charge. He paid a fine, got put on some watch list, was supposed to serve community service but got out of that, too. The suicide ruling stayed in place, however, and for the neighbors, that was the case.

Plot twist: that was absolutely not the case. Unsurprisingly, if I’m honest.

The real story, I was able to find out, was that the father had strangled his son in a drunken rage and then set the body to avoid guilt. While he was still incarcerated, he got away with murder, basically. From what I could tell, the teenager had been subjected to heavy abuse for most of his life, never really speaking up but also not being noticed, even though it was relatively obvious from the outside. His last moments...the boy really just wanted someone to notice what was happening, really. To notice and to hold his father accountable. I know this because I got to relive his last moments.

That’s what I’m trying to get at when I say you “experience” a ghost. I didn’t sit down and have a conversation with the ghost, asking for his backstory. I literally experienced it. I felt his memories as if they were my own, the pain and suffering that stood out to him the most, and of course, his final moments. That’s probably the scariest part about ghosts, if I’m honest. When you experience them, you often find yourself subjected to their final moments. Most people don’t survive them, actually. It’s hard to explain, actually, but sometimes when a ghost is formed, they pull in a manifestation of whatever killed them or caused their deaths. That’s what happened in this case - the boy’s father was such a huge part of the abuse and neglect in his life that the imprint included that terrible memory of his father, even though his father wasn’t actually dead. 

Well, it’s not like I have any other evidence to support what I’m saying. All I have is my word. That’s unfortunately the case with a lot of supernatural entities, sadly. You can’t really prove they exist unless you experience or meet them, so a lot of my work is carried out in secret. Or just because someone knows me and nothing else was working and...well, you get the idea.

Anyway, this is starting to get away from me again. And it’s really late. Early. Whatever, I’m tired in any case. This is probably not making any sense at this point. Then again, these are really just for me, so I guess it’s okay that they don’t make that much sense to anyone else. So let’s wrap this up; to summarize:

A “ghost” can be constituted as simply the imprint of a soul; the ghost is usually the imprint of a deceased individual, a memory so to speak that is formed by some fiercely felt emotion that occurred at death. They lack a physical body, which makes them generally “unseen” by most individuals, however, there are some that are able to see/interact more effectively with ghosts. 

How physical interaction is achieved and why some individuals are more susceptible to ghost encounters are questions I hope to answer in the future. My current theory is that in the “experiencing” of a ghost, the trauma is somehow transferred to the living individual - it is perhaps the strength of the negative emotion that has some affect on the living world. In any case, experiencing a ghost can range from something small and innocuous, such as disembodied sounds, smells, or emotions, to...fatal encounters...

Hopefully, recounting my previous missions that have involved ghosts will be more enlightening.

That’s really all I have on the subject at the moment, between my scattered notes, personal anecdotes, and...admittedly sparse book research. In the future, I’ll try to find better ways to actually test my theories and collect physical evidence of the things I come across. Definitely categorize the types of ghosts. I would also like to be able to incorporate anatomical drawings of some of the things I deal with, though many of the spirits tend to be...secretive. Well, that can wait for future entries. In the meantime, I’ll try to dig up actual physical books on these subjects. That is, if I can dig them up at all...]

[theorynexus]

68 will be my second post, this morning. I wonder if it will start section 8 of the Meat Epilogue.

Oh darn it. I forgot to make a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy/Meaning of Life reference on Meat 42. At least we’re back to a 43, and things might therefore be luckier. Maybe.    (I am very silly when it comes to superstitions regarding numbers, sometimes, even though I don’t really believe them.)

MY TIMING SENSES WERE TINGLING!!!

Hmm. Well, strategy meetings and investigations are important.  (Also:  I am again reminded of the dreadful likelihood that Terezi went with Dirk, which continues to be a disturbing thought.)

Hmm.  For some reason, I have the impression that he does indeed have a vague idea where he’s going, but he may not actually know where/how to find it, yet. That seems pretty likely.  Thus, Roxy would be partially correct. (On that note: Interesting that Jake didn’t actually come with. I thought for sure he’d have snuck aboard at the last moment, or something, as a stow-away.)

Eh, I’d say it goes a little beyond “prove a point,” but it’s also probably incomprehensible to you, right now.  I guess we’ll all have to be patient before we can more thoroughly sort through his insanity in that regard. As for Jane...   I don’t know. It might be more trouble than it’s worth to contact her.  The fact that Dirk has her as a seemingly important part of his plans suggest that it could essentially be springing a trap on yourself. I wonder how she’ll react to finding out that Dirk’s been mind controlling people and that that probably invalidates the actual results of her election, in the sense that it dramatically undermined the democratic process. (That is a really complicated issue that is somewhat entangled with real life politics, though, so I don’t want to get into a deep and proper discussion of what determines electoral legitimacy on a philosophical or political level here.)

It is a very interesting choice on Alt!Calliope’s call to focus on incestuous questions and Dave being awkward, rather than to follow tat important call.

Dirk is so twisted at this point that I’d almost not put it past him, but at the same time, why, Dave, do you have to assume that the motivations are sexual in nature?   (I mean, honestly, it could be the fact that Dirk was trying to force him to have sex with Karkat that gave him the impression that Dirk was [and he is, but maybe not to that extent] way too carnally-minded and motivated.)   Honestly, Dirk’s head is way too concerned with philosophical matters, and if anything he’s probably going to make a clone of himself to have sex with or something stupid like that, if he REALLY has to engage in some sort of tension-releasing copulation that isn’t masturbatory in the way that having sex with someone you’ve brainwashed and twisted into being your personal object of amusement is.   Therefore, I juuust can’t quite see Dirk having sex with Rose/her new robot body.  (Gosh, I hate that I feel compelled to address this.)

I honestly quite agree with Karkat, and now understand a little bit more about why our focus strayed where it did--- though it would have been nice to receive some sort of narration to indicate that.  And yes, it’s sad that Kanaya’s being put on hold, I guess. A little bit.  (Not really. I understand politicians in places of power can get quite busy, and it may not even be Jane’s decision to have her on hold... though if it is, I can most certainly affirm that that is quite rude.)

I mean... to be fair, Karkat, it’s rooted in biology.  Humans not having a Mother Grub means that the don’t have a natural means to reduce the genetic load that would be caused by related populations interbreeding and therefore dangerously duplicating genes.  Thus, it is not actually arbitrary, which I am sure you would know if you had spent a bit more time acting like the “geneticist” your troll handle suggests you happen to be (yes, I know it means to refer to his ectobiological frog wrangling/recombination; even so, the point stands).

I take it that Karkat’s dejection about the election has kept him a bit preoccupied and out of the loop, lately.

This is horrible (Karkat’s part, I mean).    Roxy’s new new outfit sounds like something I would be very interested in seeing fan art of.   A pink-looking slightly more effeminate Dave look sounds aesthetically striking (and I’m not even a fan of pink). But yeah, good on her for not giving up in frustration for people confusing them, I guess.   ***shrug***

And we return to this awkward and slightly funny subject. Considering it was not resolved last time, I guess that’s reasonable.   (Some day, maybe I’ll write a post analyzing Roxy’s trans-iness and/or how they/he seems to have been affected by those around he/them in his/their path to figuring it all out.  This sort of issue is always a bit difficult to properly tackle without raising some people’s hackles, so to speak, though, so I am not sure if I’ll end up doing it.  Regardless, it’ll have to be quite some time in the future, should I do so, after I’m at least done reading both sides of the epilogues. I’m sure Roxy’s interactions with John will have some important light to shed on the matter.)   It’s sortof nice that Dave and Roxy can joke about this without it becoming too uncomfortable (apparently) for either of them.

...   Is revealing this something they’ve discussed before now?  I mean, doing this in front of friends and family could be sortof... bad for things between them, if Karkat’s still trying to figure out how he feels about it and whether he wants to press on vs throttle back?  I mean, just calling each other boyfriends is not something either of them were comfortable with, and just because Dave is now doesn’t mean Karkat necessarily will be.   I dunno.  I feel conflicted on the matter, despite the fact that it is on the border of being cute.

Yeah, see, this is what I meant:  Awwwwkwaaard.

Yeah, it definitely did serve as a good distraction, at the very least. ~~~ Jane either not knowing or not being willing to tell (we’ll have to wait for a perspective shift to her to be certain) is no surprise.

Gah. FINALLY.  If Roxy weren’t such a Void-y ball of fun, everyone would have known this for some time, by now.  (Also: This is another reason why I am quite certain that Dirk was responsible for at least the way that John died. He didn’t want him to be a threat to him.  [I wonder, though: will Candy John potentially pose that problem, in the future, given the fact that he will likely be able to traverse the two different timelines, should he become aware of them?   Heck, this could be the reason why one had to die in the first place. Or one reason.])

This is what you get when you    A S S   U   M E. Also, Terezi would really be useful due to her Seer powers in particular.

Well. That is a useful compromise. Good on you for finally figuring something out to bridge the gap between your morals and Dirk’s amorality.  (Also, that presents interesting potential conflict in the future, insofar as there might be a point where Calliope has to decide whether to allow them to take Jade with or not.)

Has little Timmy fallen down a well?   O: <

This is funny because it’s like that one time where Jade was sleeping and Dave couldn’t get in touch with her. That time his weird fursona came up. Tightest butt in the jungle, or some stupid nonsense like that.

Dave is smarter than Dirk would give him credit for, calling him the dumbest of the Stralondes, by the way.

Not only do they need one of his ships, but it is quite reasonable to assume that they might be able to entice him to follow with them to where Dirk is going.  This is a potentially dangerous gambit, like bringing Gamzee along anywhere, but I think it could pay off in the end.  I think that, as I suggested earlier, Jake’s probably going to be the one to end up killing Dirk, in spite of all the underestimation that and horrific invective that had been directed his way.   In all honesty, this would really seem to be the direction that Jake’s been being pushed in all along, considering all the failed opportunities to interject him into a place of importance in the story.  

Considering his level of devotion and love for Dirk, now, he very strongly reminds me of that one old clown story that AH wrote... the one where the clown was never able to pull himself away from the service of his abusive, evil master. I bring that up specifically to suggest that Jake WILL succeed, however.  I believe that, counter to the example that I just cited, and contrary to all of the deterministic forces that Homestuck has seen in play, the power of Hope will be what is necessary to do the impossible.  A Page has a long, pain-filled story arc, but when it finally blossoms into the great behemoth that its seed of potential suggested it was from the very beginning, amazing things can happen. A Page of Hope is perhaps one of the most potent Classpect-endowed figures that Paradox Space could conjure up.  I have come now to see that this turn on Dirk’s part was probably planned from the beginning, as was the fact that Dirk’s abandonment of him was likely meant to be the catalyst for the eventual realization of Jake’s full potential. Obviously, this will not likely happen in the near future, much to our short-term misfortune. Dirk, if you ever see this, know your folly:  Jake English is just the force you would need to break free of the shackles of the reality you live in---   if only you believed in the him that believes in you.   Instead, your Rage will consume you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love this dramatic comedy.

Honestly... this is great. From a writing stand-point, this is excellent. The decision to have Dirk drag Terezi along brings more significant stakes to things and drama for the future, especially with the fact that we DO know that he can be brought back to life, now, despite Dirk’s statement to the contrary. Despite all of my pathos earlier, the way this story (the story of Homestuck) is ending is actually getting me excited and washing away the scars that came from the darkest hour of the path previous.     I really like the mechanic of Dirk having reality warping powers and Alt!Calliope being able to counter them, but only in close proximity. With the speed of his ship being a factor, especially, this sets up for some really interesting potential action in the further development of the story, as well.                    That Hussie was able to so masterfully navigate these emotional waters and string me along to this point was brilliant too.    In sum:  WOW, GUYS, I’M PUMPED!!! ... But... while this would actually serve as an excellent, fully complete and enticing epilogue in and of itself, the fact remains... there is yet more. Not only in the Postscript, but in Candy.      This throws many spanners into the works, and I honestly don’t know how to feel about all that!     If this weren’t Andrew Hussie we were talking about, I would be incredibly afraid that what is to come would throw everything off and make the eventual follow-up in Homestuck^2 (which I know he’s at least directing, though he’s not quite as involved in the story as he was in Homestuck, apparently?!) potentially quite messy and of a much lesser quality than I might expect. Given this IS Andrew Hussie we are talking about, however, I actually am quite confident that eventually, it will work out splendidly, and raise his literary accomplishments to even greater heights. Though... I am filled with a bit of trepidation. That “eventually” will be so far in the future. ***laughs awkwardly*** ... Buuuuutttt there’s still more left, even on this page, so I had better get to that. ...

It is very interesting that she’s been enveloped in that blanket of space so thickly and constantly that she’s come to find it comforting. That said:  How is it possible for her to withdraw and still let narration continue, supposedly without source or accountability, as she states?   Is this meant to suggest that the passive forces of Paradox Space will naturally fill in the gap if there is no one manning the ship, so to speak?   This feels a bit unlikely, considering the lack of content for years of the characters’ lives, and Dirk’s suggestion that “God had abandoned them,” or however the heck he put it. This is all veerrry curious, indeed.  (I do like her commentary on narration. A lot.) ~~~ Woooooo!!!~    It’s really nice to finish this at--   Dangit, time, why do you have to keep ticking into the future?!       Well, even though it’s not 3:14, anymore, it’s still very nice to finish the Meat Epilogue on 02/02/2020.   :’)

[hiriajuu-suffering]

People Suck

If there’s anything I’ve learned so far is never put your faith or happiness in someone else, no matter how or what that looks like.

Never put your faith in your spouse. They’re fallible and human, they commit to you because you’re convenient, not because they value you for what you are. Every single person can destroy what they claim to love most in the world when they have to respond to enough pressure. I have seen instances where two people would willingly give everything for each other, but no one would ever think I’m worth that kind of commitment. Marriage in our society has been a hollow vow historically entrenched in us by institutionalized religion, now that a human’s ability to communicate reaches beyond moral conveniences in the digital age, people are seeing past that narrative. For better or for worse, I did that. Through sickness and health, I did that. For rich or poor, I did that. To love and cherish, I never stopped doing that. With the instructions set forth by the Sunnah, I did that when she never knew what that meant. In honesty and sincerity, I could never break on that front. I guess that’s why I started thinking polyamory had more truth in it, it’s been difficult for me to believe anyone can earnestly swear to unyielding loyalty, regardless of love’s condition, since I became an adult and I let myself believe otherwise these past years.

Never put faith in your parent or child. Both a parent and child’s understanding of the world are limited to their times. When they clash, it creates immovable conflicts which ripple beyond the scope of the family. A parent putting everything on their child to fulfill their desires imparts all their prior prejudices and hardships onto their child, and the child’s free will is destroyed in that monocle of unhealthy parenting. A child valuing their relationship with their parent stifles them from developing genuine relationships that make better on the limited perspective of their parents; I’ve suffered on both, on the inside and outside of that dynamic. A parent ought to love unconditionally as a child is forced to, yet, when the parent is pushed hard enough, you’ll find that’s never the case. A child ought to be able to follow their free will without pressure, but that’s never made to be the case. I can’t even fathom coming to the conclusion my entire life was forged by my parents with all the opposition I’ve given them, but when I look plainly at the facts, the resistance I’ve given to their absolute vision has been minimal at best. Even though I believe I’ve resisted far greater than a vast majority of people ever could, I know it’s still insignificant.

Never put faith in a holy person. Every purveyor of the divine will be operating under a label which exclusivizes them against contrasting labels. Interreligious convocation is just invalid to them. Frankly, the religious label I was born with I only still use because of societal pressure because I saw this a long time ago. As much as I believe the Aga Khan is wise and has a deeper understanding of life than an insurmountable majority of humans in history could ever have, that undermines as opposed to uplifts his level of respect to those outside of his followers. Instead, some random sheikh who commits visibly greater sin than the Aga Khan has more legitimacy to the greater Ummah (Muslim Community). If these labels are means by which prejudice is enacted, these labels cannot be means for good. Truly, I am Muslim first and Ismaili second but the label holds anyone on the outside back from seeing that.

I can’t love my spouse at maximum because both of us run the risk of losing loyalty, I can’t put everything into my kids lest I unintentionally override their free will from the pressure, I can’t put all my faith into the spirit because this world channels its practice through labels that cause division more than pluralism. Humans can’t be genuinely and unconditionally kind when inconvenienced, never expect anything real out of an imperfect being.

If living for anyone else’s sake is a fallacy, does that mean life itself is selfish? Seeking happiness in a relationship with another, that’s selfish. Making your kids actions be the determiner of your own happiness, that’s selfish. Believing the label you use to describe your beliefs is more correct than anyone else’s, that’s selfish. The claim every person was put on this world to be tested to do a good is wrong if we’re required to be selfish enough to make all of our decisions based on temporal desires, familial pressures, and religious alignment.

The real test in life is a violation of those interests to do good. It requires far more virtue to act outside the realm of what’s convenient to you, what your family wants you to be, and what your religion forces upon you. That’s why I hate doing any of those things even when I’m still doing them because I’m often not given the option to act outside of them. I always found myself to be a metaphysical compatibilist for this reason, an illusion of free will exists which we can act in accordance with but are never presented with the option to.

Knowing this, I can’t believe in any person. Nor can I rightfully: marry, have children, or ascribe to a religion without a serious violation of conveniences. I’ve fought for that belief all my life, I fought hard. I’ve invested when I ever saw someone or something which could’ve agreed with my position in convenience being a restriction on free will. The potential I acted on always failed: making it in the music industry, speech/debate, my relationships. “I thought maybe I had it this time, but it slipped away”. While it’s still a remote possibility for that potential to return, everything has to be put into doubt when it’s not because that’s the default state of the world.

I want to believe in the idealism allowing me to access my free will, that’s why I’m not an incompatibilist. The people in this world are soul-crushing. There’s some person that will always find a way from enacting your own free will: a lover, a parent, a cleric. I want to believe in that dream, but the more I try, the more it fades, and the more it feels like I lost.

Do I break from this? Do I finally give in and be what I sought not to be, a human whose needs are granted in convenience? I don’t want to, but what’s left of my heart may not leave me a choice: it takes resolve to fight and I can’t even tell how much I have left in me with the last piece of potential I believed in still hanging in the balance. I’m willing to do everything to prove to her she is that because I put so much of myself into that belief. Everything I truly am is what breaks those boundaries: convincing her it’s worth the struggle, convincing her mother our souls are equal and reach the same place in acts of faith, convincing the world telling two can’t become one for something affected by anything other than their free will is wrong. If I’m incapable of breaking those boundaries, I don’t know what my free will is anymore. It’s something I feel but could never act on.

Maybe she wasn’t who I thought she was. Maybe she didn’t think marriage outweighs every other decision you can make in your life combined on account of its affect on the soul. Maybe she was just a puppet of her mother and her culture cloaked by a need to be superficially happy. Maybe she couldn’t be happier long-term with someone who pushes her to think to be her best self instead of someone who falls in line with her expectations of convenience. Maybe I was wrong in seeing her potential, but that doesn’t make being disappointed hurt any less because it’s so draining to undo a belief so strong.

I still believe in the person I knew, someone who wanted to get as much of her free will out in the open as possible and chose me as a part of that. I don’t know if that person is gone for good. If she is, I think my idealism has to leave with her and I must live in a life I hadn’t believed in up until this point. A life where no mortal deserves absolute trust. A life where the only things to live for are what’s made convenient to you. In which case, I renounce my ability to believe in free will. I’ll want my offspring to have it, but I’ll unintentionally find a way to oppress it out of them like every parent does. It’s because I have no control. I surrendered to her all of it in faith she would still be the person I knew. If that person was never real, I don’t know what I have left to believe in because I find there’s no point in beliefs without free will.

Nothing in life is forever, but the bond of marriage is eternal. We’re not married yet, so she hasn’t committed herself to me hereafter yet either. The lack of convenience is outweighing what I am to her, that’s why we’re not moving forward. There’s nothing I can say to convince her anymore we’re worth the lack of convenience, the decision is in her hands now. I’ve felt powerless from a sense of belief too many times in my life, this is the time my beliefs will be shown their validity. I have to accept it’s my flaws that caused me to believe in her willingness to overcome convenience, making me as much of a slave to convenience as any other person.

Tl;dr: people suck. I’m a person, I’m no exception to the rule unless someone I chose completely of my own free will and she hath chosen me completely of her own free will shows me differently. I don’t think I’m going to have the resilience to choose like that again.

[tmorriscode]

Have You Ever Heard The Tragedy Of Darth Vader? It’s Not A Tale Your Fandom Would Tell You.

There has been some kerfuffle on the internet lately about the ending of the third Star Wars Trillogy. Specifically the conclusion of the Ben Solo/Kylo Ren Story arc. It’s got me thinking about atonement vs. redemption.

For the scope of this collection of thoughts, I’m defining atonement as “setting things right on a community level,” and redemption as “setting things right on a personal level.”

Kylo/Ben’s story arc is a redemption story, not an atonement story. And it’s a fitting echo of Darth Vader’s redemption story. In fact, The lack of atonement in Vader’s story directly contributes to Kylo/Ben’s story. And that’s what really makes the nine story arc a compelling tragedy.

Let’s set aside Ben Solo/Kylo Ren’s journey and come back to it. For the moment, let’s focus on the first six movies.

Star Wars and the Prequel Trillogy are about the fall and redemption of Anakin Skywalker, but not about his atonement.

In becoming Darth Vader, Anakin committed genocides. Plural. He started down his path to darkness by slaughtering children.

But Star Wars is not about how Anakin’s fall affected the galaxy, except when Anakin’s fall affecting the galaxy in turn affects our characters. The original trilogy/second act is told from the perspective of Anakin’s son, Luke. Through Luke’s faith, and through saving Luke Anakin is redeemed.

To reiterate, redemption isn’t atonement. Queen Isabella I of Castile was bothered by the the plight of the natives in the Carribbean enough to declare that they shouldn’t be enslaved and should be treated equally. You or I or a hundred other people shake our heads at the conditions of refugees in some part of the world we’ve never heard of. Maybe we send them our thoughts and prayers. Being remorseful doesn’t always translate into positive change.

Real atonement is about setting right what we put wrong. Darth Vader was redeemed, but he didn’t atone.

The sequel trilogy, then, can be viewed as an exploration of what happens when a character doesn’t (or can’t) atone for his actions. And perhaps, what happens when the people left to carry on also don’t atone in his place.

So let’s look at Luke and Leia and their failures to atone for Darth Vader.

Like and Leia were victims of Vader’s brutality. Leia lost her home planet. Luke lost his family, his hand and nearly fell to the dark side himself. Why should it be their job to atone for Vader’s actions?

Out of anyone in the Star Wars cast of characters who could have set things right, Luke and Leia were in the position to make atonement to the galaxy. Their (very human) failures set in motion the events of the sequel trillogy. (All three trillogies end on such hopeful notes, but yet with such potential for darkness).

At the end of the original trilogy, The emperor has been defeated, the rebellion is triumphant and the empire is in shambles.

By the first of the sequel trilogy, everything is in process of going wrong. Supplemental material between the two fleshes out the bare bones hinted at in The Force Awakens. There we see how badly Luke and Leia flubbed it.

As an aside, Luke and Leia were doing their best. This is an exploration on how very human mistakes make for interesting conflict and storytelling, not a condemnation of their characters.

Rather than admitting their connection with Vader and seeking to make amends in his name (or perhaps in spite of his name) the two of them hide the fact that Anakin was Darth Vader. They hide it from the Galaxy, From Leia’s political allies and enemies, from from Luke’s new Jedi students and they hide it from Leia’s son.

As Ben is growing up, they sense darkness in him, and blame it on genetics. “It’s Anakin in him.”

Luke also grew up with that familial suspicion from Owen and Beru. Obi-wan Kenobi hides Anakin’s identity from Luke until he is old enough to face it. Perhaps influenced by Obi-Wan’s decision, Luke and Leia delay telling Ben Solo until he is older.

What Luke and Leia don’t realize is that Ben Solo is being directly influenced by Emperor Palpatine and his puppet, Supreme Leader Snoke.

There are hints that Han doesn’t agree with the way Leia chooses to raise their son. That his disagreement with the choices she makes lead to their marriage fracturing, and his estrangement from the Skywalker family as a whole.

Ben knows none of this. All he knows is that his family is distant. (His feelings of abandonment may partially be what causes his attachment to his force-mirror twin Rey).

When the truth comes out, it undermines Leia’s political position, as well as eroding Ben’s trust in her and Luke, which pushes him further to the dark side. All of which empowers the First Order.

This brings us to Kylo/Ben’s redemption arc, which must be viewed in the context of Vader’s and as part of the overall story of the Skywalkers.

Unlike Vader, we see Kylo/Ben’s struggle with the dark side. But just like with Vader, when he’s eventually pulled into the light, it’s a redemption, not an atonement.

When Ben Solo falls, It’s telling who he targets as a representative of the First Order: His mother’s Resistance. His Uncle’s Jedi order. In deleted scenes from The Force Awakens, he boards the Millennium Falcon, but does not use that opportunity to destroy it. (Later when he wants it blown out of the sky, he does so out of anger at Rey for rejecting him). He kills his father reluctantly, but does not harm Chewbacca even when the Wookiee shoots him with a bowcaster.

Kylo/Ben’s revenge is personal toward the people who he feels failed him. His anger is volcanic: exploding, then retreating to simmer inside of him until the next eruption. Leaving nothing behind but the ashes of regret.

When he eventually turns back to the light, he is redeemed in that he makes peace with the people he has personally wronged (his father’s memory, his mother and uncle’s ghosts. )

The story of the Skywalkers shifts from redemption to atonement with Rey. When Ben gives his life for Rey, he’s started to set right what once went wrong.

This may be why Rey does not seem sad when Ben dies. For the Jedi, there is no death. When we get upset at his seemingly random death at the end of his story, we’re assigning our own, 21st century Earth meaning to Ben’s death. For the Jedi in a galaxy far far away, the spirits of the Jedi join the force and reach out to the living. As Luke says to Leia: Nobody is ever really gone.

The good parts of Ben will always be with Rey. His death in the light can be perceived as a cathartic moment. Much like the death of a loved one might be if that loved one has struggled with a terminal illness for a very long time.

Though he dies, Rey is left to carry on in his place. In taking the Skywalker name, she takes up the task of atoning for the sins of her own grandfather Emperor Palpatine as well as the Skywalkers who came before.

In rebuilding the Jedi order, Rey is setting the galaxy back on the path to peace. Whether the promise of that peace is eventually realized is up to Disney and Lucasfilm.

[tiaragqueen]

Pot Luck

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Lee Jihoon x Reader (feat. Baekhyun)

✂ Word Count: 1,6k

✂ Trigger Warning: Possessive behavior, yandere theme.

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don't believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day! [Edited]

Song: Whitney Houston - I Believe In You And Me

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Always on the run, I've been looking for someone. Now you're here like you've been before, and you know just what I need. It took some time for me to see.” – You Give Good Love [Whitney Houston]

               For those who were acquainted with Lee Jihoon would describe him as ‘serious’ and ‘easily irritated’. And while they were true, for the most part, he was a sweetheart to you. He always tried to assist you in some way, smiled a lot, and supported you in every endeavor. He was your go-to person whenever you needed a piece of advice, or just wanted to vent. He never pressured you to talk, rather, he would sit down beside you and waited until you finish sorting out your emotions.

            And that was why you liked him so much. He was the type of person where you could sit in silence for hours without having to talk. Not to mention, he was a wonderful secret keeper and a great listener. Whenever you decided to say anything, be it a simple story about your day or some silly troubles you’ve encountered, he always scooted closer to you and listened wholeheartedly. You were grateful that someone like him existed, and sometimes wondered what did you do to deserve him in your life. If this was a blessing from God.

            You liked him, as a friend.

            But not him.

            For the longest time, Jihoon had fallen in love with you. He was shy and blunt; these traits had scared a lot of people from developing a deeper relationship with him. While you were a cheerful and energetic girl, a complete opposite from him. These people then met in a fortunate incident, where you accidentally found a slip of paper containing lyrics on the school bench. Luckily, you had spotted the name of the lyricist before you could throw it away. And thanks to your wide acquaintances and sharp memory, you managed to pinpoint his location.

            The art room, where acquaintances became friends before eventually blossomed into crushes. At least, that was what happened to Jihoon. So far, you only thought of him as a close friend, and Jihoon intended to change it with his song.

            A piece of creation that he had created from the bottom of his heart.

            A piece of himself that he had bravely displayed just for you.

            A fragment of the deep feelings that he had long harbored for you, and you only.

            “Noona,” he greeted once you entered a cubicle which was his ‘private studio’ within his equally small room.

            You had always been concerned with his living arrangement and had repeatedly offered another place to stay. With your family’s wealth and your high salary, you could afford to pay his expenses until he could search a better job with better payment. However, Jihoon always declined and said that ‘he was content living here and didn’t want to bother you more than he already had’. You didn’t understand why he thought that way when you were more than happy to help him. He had helped you so much in the past, after all, and it was only fair if you could return the favor.

            But sometimes receiving is harder than giving.

            “I told you to stop calling me that.” You huffed playfully as you plopped down on a chair beside him. You also noted that the chair was strangely more cushioned than his, even though he was the one who did the work. “It makes me feel old, you know?”

            Jihoon chuckled quietly; a cute sound that never failed to warm your heart. “We’re all getting old, anyway.”

            “Well, that’s true.” You crossed your arms like a spoiled girl who didn’t get her wishes granted by her parents. “But you don’t need to remind me. You know how much I hate it.”

            Rolling the chair closer to his, you leaned forward. Jihoon’s body tensed up a little when he felt your warm breath hit his cheek, yet the reaction went unnoticed by you. “So, what are you going to show me?”

            Jihoon hummed, teasing you for the sake of poor suspense whilst trying to calm his thumping heart at the proximity.

            “Oh, come on! I’m dying here!” you whined, shaking his left arm playfully.

            “Alright, alright, you can stop shaking my arm now.” Though, he didn’t mind if you continued. It reminded him of a child wanting to know every secret that he harbored from them. And besides, it has been a long time since you last held him like this. Jihoon had almost forgotten how euphoric the feeling of your skin wrapped around his.

            “Then, hurry up! I’m curious.”

            Jihoon giggled before reaching out to grab his guitar from beside the table. Slinging the strap around his neck, he looked up to you with a shy yet eager glint that you hadn’t seen for years. You remembered him giving you that glance when you first checked out his lyric; the one that he intentionally wrote for you to see and not when you accidentally found.

            “I made a song,” he coughed into his palm when he noticed his voice went a bit high-pitched due to nervousness. “And I want to know if you like it or not.”

            There was a brief period of silence as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once he finally prepped himself up, he began to croon.

                I believe in you and me

                 I believe that we will be

                 In love eternally

                 Well as far as I can see

                 You will always be the one

                 For me (Oh yes, you will)

                 And I believe in dreams again

                 I believe that love will never end

                 And like the river finds the sea

                 I was lost, now I’m free

                 Cuz I believe in you and me

                 I will never leave your side

                 I will never hurt your pride

                 Then I will always be around

                 Just to be right where you are

                 My love, you know I love you

                 When all the chips are down, baby

            Jihoon peeked from his lashes, trying to gauge your reaction. He hoped you would notice the underlying sentiment in that song; about how much he believed that you two would end up together and about how much he loved you. That he would always be loyal to you regardless of the situations. Jihoon also hoped you would notice how that fateful encounter had brought freedom on to his wandering figure. How he had been lost in his mind, searching and wondering if he could ever taste what love felt like – what dating felt like – until he finally met you.

            However, you weren’t a keen judge.

            “That was awesome!” you exclaimed as you applauded his short performance. “Wow, this was the first time I’ve heard you singing. Usually, you just stick with the lyrics. Your voice is wonderful, Jihoon.”

            “Ah,” he blushed, rubbing his nape bashfully. “Thank you. It was nothing, really.”

            “My, Jihoon. You really need to stop undermining yourself. If honed right, you could be a great singer and songwriter in no time!” you gushed, oblivious to his admiring stare that delighted in your gusto. “Then, you could finally afford a nice place!”

            “You’re right, but...” Jihoon inclined his head slightly as he braced himself for your response. “What do you think about that song? Did you... get the feeling I was trying to convey?”

            “Oh, you know I got it. You sang with such love and adoration and affection I was starting wonder if you created this song for someone...” you trailed off before your face lit up. “Or maybe you actually have a special someone, that’s why you asked for my opinion?!”

            “W-what? I–”

            “Aw, don’t be shy!” you cooed, unintentionally cutting him off mid-sentence with your overflowing excitement. “I’m so happy that you finally get someone to love! Hopefully, you can introduce me to them soon. I can’t wait to see the person who has stolen my best friend’s heart!”

            Best friend...

            “So, I’m just a best friend to you...?”

            “What?” you laughed heartily, unaware of his darkening expression nor his softening voice. “Of course, you are. You’re the greatest best friend I’ve ever had! Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives!”

            “Oh...”

            Right before the conversation could escalate to awkward silence, your phone suddenly rang.

            “Sorry, I gotta leave now. Baekhyun is calling me. Bye, Jihoon! Love ya.” you said in one breath, abruptly standing up from the rolling chair.

            Jihoon's curiosity perked up as he slowly raised his head, discerning you rushing out of the room through his black bangs.

            “Baek... Hyun.” Oh, he knew that guy alright. He was your long-time crush. Jihoon remembered when you came to him and gushed about how handsome and adorable Baekhyun was the second day after you established your friendship with Jihoon.

            He supposed it was understandable that you would like Baekhyun in the first place. He had a cute ‘puppy’ face, charming, and energetic. A social butterfly, unlike Jihoon. The type of guy who’s girls with no important businesses flocked towards like bees to honey.

            Jihoon knew you weren’t definite with your ideal type and had wished that you might have forgotten about your silly – cringe-worthy – crush towards the taller boy. It’s been like... What? Seven years since they graduated from high school.

            Unless you had been secretly contacting him...

            The short man fished out his phone from the back pocket and went to your Instagram account. You were a well-known designer, so in order to attract more customers, you often uploaded your creations. Fortunately, you liked to upload your selfies in there as well. Your account was set in public, therefore Jihoon could easily find the recent photo.

            And the newest one was a picture of you sitting in a cozy café not too far from his apartment, with a caption: “I'm waiting~ XD”

            Satisfied with the discovery, Jihoon leaned back and smirked to the ceiling.

            He knew what he had to do now.

[another-tiny-ant]

Why an ant? What’s it all about?

So I heard that Tumblr is the place to come to vent your feelings, and I have been told by various counsellors, etc, that I ought to write things down to help clear my head. I got out a notebook and felt far too embarrassed to put pen to paper, and there was greater risk of someone I know finding it, which would humiliate me even more. So the internet it is- in true millennial form. I don't expect anyone to read this- I actually kind of hope they don’t. But I think I need to start talking, and typing/writing has always come more easily to me. Also this way, I can avoid burdening or upsetting the people I care about. So here goes...

I think mental health problems have always been there for me. I was bullied from the second I started socialising with other kids, and I’ve often wondered why that was. I have a learning disability, dyspraxia, which has affected my coordination, processing, speech (especially when I first started school), as well as other vital life skills, like organisation and planning. I know that, especially because I was undiagnosed, but also because kids are cruel, this marked me out as ‘stupid’ or ‘vulnerable’- an ‘easy target’- or whatever, but I don't think that can have been the only reason. Perhaps I was simply too timid, or kind, or willing to please, and so I got stamped all over (fortunately only ever verbally, though I say “only”...). It sounds pretentious talking about myself like that. But school was simply something to survive for me, not to enjoy, ever, for the whole fourteen miserable years I endured. Despite that, I have always had a love and thirst for knowledge and learning, and that was where I found my solace when things got too much for me- getting my head down in the textbooks (especially because most of my teachers were useless, or even abusive, to varying degrees), finding problems and then finding ways around them. I had to fight my own way through, and find my own coping strategies, because there was never anyone in school either with the time, empathy or will to care. I suppose that’s something to be proud of- I thrashed my own path through that jungle of dashed young hopes and dreams. Though that sounds painfully bleak.

I would be lying if I said I've never had friends, or fun, or love. I certainly have. Though I think my experiences have made it hard for me to trust people- I open up reasonably easily- though only superficially I suppose- but I find it very hard to trust. Friends have taught me to expect people to be unreliable. There are exceptions though. Can you tell, I’m forcing myself to be positive? I have people to see and talk to- I just crave some kind of connection or kinship that I haven’t really found from friends. The one person, however, with whom I do share that kinship, who ‘gets me’, and always not only exceeds, but explodes my expectations, is my boyfriend. Whenever I am down, or vulnerable, or upset, he doesn’t recoil, or ignore me, or push me down more, as I would expect any person to do- he gives me his hand and helps me up. He helps me brush down my clothes, clean myself up. He puts a smile on my face and reminds me that some people at least, are good. Not just good, but pure. Loving, open souls who spread positivity, like light that shines from their bodies and penetrates even the darkest shadows. And he does all of that, without even realising, or making any conscious effort. He is just himself. ‘Just’ implies some kind of put down- but nothing could be more perfect, or glorious. I don’t think he has any clue quite how wonderful he is. In fact, he’ll deny it out of hand. I wish he could see himself as he is reflected in my eyes- perhaps that would make his own battles so much easier to fight.

I have been struggling again recently. Just to state the obvious- anyone who read this I’m sure would see that straight away, just from my tone-of-written-voice. I would at least. But then perhaps, I’m different. I went to my uni GP surgery the other day- when I finally did get them to agree to see me- and tried to speak to one of the GPs there about what’s been going on inside my head. The trouble is, I stammer and struggle to get my words out, or really articulate what I mean, when I get worked up or confronted with those kinds of situations (hence this blog- my mind suddenly becomes less cluttered when I start to write- and less panicked). So the appointment really didn't go well. Added to that, I was very obviously quite under the weather- but the first thing I was told when I arrived was that “we can’t possibly address more than one issue in this appointment”. My mind becomes so much foggier when I’m ill, and my ability to cope becomes virtually non-existent. The only times I’ve ever punched bullies have been when I’ve also been unwell. Anyway, when I started trying to describe how i’d been feeling (and failed dismally to convey quite the aching bleakness I feel in my chest sometimes), the doctor googled a depression questionnaire, and got me to score myself on the questions. Naturally, I paled at the thought of potentially over-exaggerating, as I’m permanently paranoid of undermining the much bigger battles other people experience, so as always, I under-played everything I was feeling, and the results were pretty unrepresentative. Even so, I scored on the depression scale (though that sounds like an utterly arbitrary, bullshit scale to say the least). I suppose that was her way of telling me she was diagnosing me. Five minutes later, I was turfed out of the seat I was in, and clutching a list of phone numbers she’d handed me, as I walked out of the surgery, I felt no closer to mending myself that before I went. If anything, I felt even more cut loose and abandoned, in an institution that wouldn’t care if I lived or died. That’s not to say I’m suicidal, but I do often feel so overwhelmed that i just want to get on a plane and fly far, far away, and never come back. 

In case you hadn’t already guessed, I’ve kind of forgotten where I was trying to go with this. I suppose I’m just pressing keys and spewing words and hoping that I will suddenly feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. Nothing that miraculous has happened, but I do suppose I feel somewhat better for getting things off my chest. I suppose I just find it hard to see the good around me sometimes, and I take for granted what is special around me. I can remember from pretty much when I started talking (and more importantly, people started understanding me- let me tell you, that took a while), I was always called a pessimist. I have to consciously remind myself how lucky I am. I suppose that's why I feel so ashamed to talk about what's inside my mind. But I have my health (physically at least). I have my mind (for the most part). And I have potential. Most importantly though, my family could not be more supportive of me, and openly loving, and I couldn't be luckier to have my extraordinary, sunbeam boyfriend. Christmas is coming up, and not only will i get to escape university, but I will get to go home and spend quality time with the people I love most. I’m not in the slightest bit religious, but I love how everyone makes an effort to put all the crap to one side at Christmas, and just share their love instead. Beyond that, there will be the summer. So there is hope. I just have to keep reminding myself.

I remember now what the whole point of this post was. Haha! What did I say about my planning ability? I wanted to explain my Tumblr name/blog name/whatever-the-fuck-its-called, but basically why I am referring to myself as an ant. The basic reasons- it’s anonymous, first and foremost. But its also non-identifying, non-gender/age/class/creed/etc-specific. The real reason though is that it comes from something my mum has always said to me. So I’ve always been criticised for being a ‘perfectionist’. A counsellor even sent me links to webpages to read all about perfectionism, procrastination, and self-destruction. If I were to write an honest CV, those are probably the ‘skills’ I’d boast about. So when I get worked up about not doing a “good enough” job of something, or putting too much pressure on myself, or I’ve fucked it all up, my mum gently says to me something along these lines: 

“We’re all just tiny ants, scuttling around on the log of the Earth. None of us are more important than the other, but none of us are that important either. That’s not to depress you, but to remind you that existence is short. You’re not around for long. Don’t spend your life stressing about what you’ll achieve. Just do good. Even if it’s just in small ways. Treat people right. Care about the right things. Be kind, always. Make the small changes that you can and live happily. That's what it’s all about in the end. Just do the good that you can.”

That’s not to say that she doesn’t support any ‘big’ ideas that I have. Or that she doesn't tell me “you can achieve anything you set your mind to”, because those are also things she says to me all the time. What she means is take comfort in this perspective- don’t make things matter too much. Save your energy and enjoy your life, because life is short, and you do only get one go at it. And that perspective of being a tiny speck, if even that, in the plane and timescale of existence has always frightened me, but I think I am finally maturing enough to understand what she means. Live your best life, to the best of your abilities, with the best people, and love freely and plentifully. Don’t get yourself wrapped up in what it all means, or what the point of it all is. You’re just an ant- but not “just” an ant. You are a being with a life that you are going to live as best as you can. So this is me, trying to come to terms with the point of it all, but not wrapping myself up in “the point” of it at all. 

I’m Another Tiny Ant. 

🖤🐜🖤

[mustafinaandhergirls]

Here's Aly's statement that she was unable to read in court.

"Below is the statement that I was prepared to read at the sentencing hearing.

Realizing that you are a victim of sexual abuse is a horrible feeling. Words cannot adequately capture the level of disgust I feel when I think about how this happened. Larry abused his power and the trust I and so many others placed in him, and I am not sure I will ever come to terms with how horribly he manipulated and violated me.

Larry was the USA Gymnastics national team doctor and the U.S. Olympic Team doctor. He was trusted by so many and took advantage of countless athletes, and their families. The effects of his actions are far-reaching, since abuse goes way beyond the moment, often haunting survivors for the rest of their lives, making it difficult for them to trust others, and impacting their relationships. It is all the more devastating when such abuse comes at the hand of such a highly respected doctor, since it leaves victims questioning the organizations — and even the medical profession itself — upon which so many rely.

I am writing this letter to share some of my story, in hopes that it will help others understand the profound impact Larry’s abuse has had on me, how his betrayal of trust has changed me and how his actions years ago continue to affect my daily life.

From the age of eight, all I wanted to do was go to the Olympics. I loved gymnastics with all my heart, and worked as hard as I could. Larry, you knew how badly I wanted to be the best I could be, you knew how hard I worked, and that I would do absolutely anything to be on the team. You were my doctor, and like most people, I was taught to trust doctors. I believed that you had my best interests at heart, and you made sure that message was reinforced, insisting your inappropriate touch was for medical reasons and that your care would help me get to the Olympic Games. You promised me that you would heal my injuries. You gave me gifts to make me think you were a good person, to make me believe you were my friend. You were nice so that we would trust you, to make it easier for you to take advantage of so many people, including me. But you lied to me. You lied to all of us.

And because of you, I now have a hard time trusting other people. When I go to the doctor, especially a male doctor, I am scared and uncomfortable. Even if that doctor is recommended as the best, I am skeptical because I was told you were the best, and you certainly weren’t. I am afraid that another doctor will mistreat me and abuse his power like you did. In turn, I feel guilty that I harbor these doubts and suspicions.

This mistrust and guilt has had a very real impact on both my physical and mental well-being. For example, when I started to realize what Larry had done to me, I avoided certain treatments that gymnasts rely upon, especially during intense Olympic training. I should have gotten massages three times a week or so, but I was too afraid (even if the therapist was a woman). I lost confidence in my recovery, and this uncertainty began to undermine my training. Even today, I find myself scared that something bad will happen to me when I seek any medical treatment.

The stress of training to make an Olympic team and competing in the games is all-consuming, and success demands laser focus. As my training ramped up, my stress about the competition increased. But added to that was the stress that came with trying to come to terms with the abuse, and constantly wondering how such a thing ever could have happened. This added layer of stress was more than I could handle. It was as though I couldn’t begin to let myself believe what had happened to me. It was too much to bear.

I have come to realize that everyone deals with trauma differently. As a gymnast, we train to control our emotions under pressure. We become good at compartmentalizing. I became almost numb to my feelings. It was the only way I could survive the Olympic process. It was exhausting. The stress of constantly keeping certain thoughts in the back of my mind may have allowed me to focus in the moment, but it became more and more painful over time, both physically and emotionally. I knew when I finally allowed myself to feel again, it would be one of the hardest things I ever had to do.

I was right. When I allowed myself to start thinking about what Larry had done, I was overcome by anxiety. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like someone was pushing on my chest and my throat was closing up. I couldn’t sleep well because I would have terrible nightmares. I never felt rested. The anxiety got so intense that I needed to see a doctor — a female — who prescribed anxiety medication so that I could function, and sleeping medication to help resolve my extreme exhaustion. After adjusting the dosages of some of the medication, I had a bad reaction and lost consciousness. I woke up to my terrified mom calling 911. I was loaded into an ambulance and taken to the hospital, where the doctors realized the issue was a side effect from one of the medications. My doctor has recommended that I try other medications to help me cope, but the trauma of what happened with those medications put me over the edge. It just added to the list of things I was anxious and stressed about.

After this experience, I decided I needed to allow myself to feel what I had been suppressing for so long. I had spent so much time and energy trying to block out all the pain and trauma, and I realized it was just too much for me to contain. It was the most difficult period in my life. I was exhausted, barely able to do things I loved. I had no energy. I felt sad, anxious and confused. I couldn’t understand how someone could be so evil. And, painfully, Larry and his actions made me hate gymnastics for a time. Larry, you made me feel so uncomfortable and sad, and you made me believe the sport had let me down.

I am trying now to take back my control, to remind myself that Larry has no power over me. It is never easy, but I am fighting to believe that the sport — which I do love — is independent of Larry and those who allowed him to do what he did. I’ve decided that I can’t let him take gymnastics away from me.

Despite my best efforts to regain control, I still have my triggers. My work requires frequent travel, and I feel anxious traveling by myself. I find myself constantly looking around, paranoid and afraid to be alone. When I am at a hotel by myself and I order room service, I worry a male will deliver the food. I’ve had to develop strategies and coping mechanisms. If a male knocks on the door, my heart begins to race. I hold the door open as he drops off the food and keep it open until he leaves. I often wonder if I am hurting their feelings by being so obviously distrusting of them. I always used to give people the benefit of the doubt, but if a decorated doctor who served on the national team for over 30 years turned out to be a monster, then how can I trust anybody? Now, I’ll often catch myself being scared that people I meet are like Larry. And I hate that. I hate that Larry took away my trust of others.

One of my best friends is also a victim of Larry — or a survivor, as I prefer to say. I thought we would be friends forever because we had gone through the best and worst moments together. But I think I remind her too much of what Larry did to us, and our friendship has suffered. Abuse isn’t something you can just bring up with anyone, and I often wonder if I ever will find anyone like her who gets me so well and knows just what to say to make me feel better.

This situation has also affected my relationship with my parents, with whom I’ve always been extremely close. Over the last year, so many of my conversations with my parents have been about dealing with the trauma of what happened. I’m so grateful for their love and support, and I know I wouldn’t be able to get through this without them, but I don’t want to talk about him all the time.

Still, there are so many moving parts to figuring out how to process and understand the abuse. While training I was often away from my family. Now that I finally have a more flexible schedule, I try to make up for lost time with my parents and siblings. I hate that Larry’s abuse has affected my relationship with my family, and how we interact. My sisters are in high school; one of them is in her senior year, a very exciting time. A lot of this past year has been about Larry, processing and dealing with his abuse. I try to discuss it with my parents when my sisters aren’t around, but sometimes they walk into a room when we are talking about it and I can’t help but feel bad that they have to worry about this. It is not fair. Abuse impacts the whole family.

I want more than anything to make sure the next generation never goes through something like this. I don’t want anyone to experience the pain, anxiety, fear and other horrible feelings that stem from abuse. Every 98 seconds another person experiences sexual assault, and sexual violence affects hundreds of thousands of Americans each year. That is hundreds of thousands too many. One in four girls and one in six boys will be molested before they turn 18. Too many abusers do horrible things and get away with it. Too many abusers are master manipulators, who somehow make those they abuse feel guilty. And worse, many find a way to convince adults to support and protect them. Larry’s abuse started 30 years ago. At least that is the first reported incident. In those 30 years, many survivors came forward about Larry’s abuse. Adult after adult, many in positions of authority, protected this monster, telling each survivor it was O.K., that Larry was not abusing them. Larry was decorated by USA Gymnastics, by the United States Olympic Committee — he was even named to an advisory board to come up with policies that would protect athletes from this kind of abuse! Knowing this is like being violated all over again. How many hundreds would have been saved if even one adult had listened and acted? It sickens me to know that for years and years, so many put an institution, or an organization, or medals, money and reputation, above the safety and welfare of young, innocent people. We must listen and take proper action. Shame on all those who actively protected Larry and shame on all those who looked the other way. Those who looked the other way are just as guilty. And shame on you, Larry, you are the worst example of humanity.

Maybe by speaking out, by sharing my story and the way my daily life continues to be impacted by Larry’s depraved actions, I can help other survivors feel less alone, less isolated, and encourage them to speak up and to get help.

I ask that you give Larry the strongest possible sentence (which his actions deserve), for by doing so, you will send a message to him and to other abusers that they cannot get away with their horrible crimes, that they will be exposed for the evil they are, and they will be punished to the maximum extent of the law. Maybe knowing that Larry is being held accountable for his abuse will help me and the other survivors feel less alone, like we’re being heard, and open up pathways for healing.

I hope today you impose the maximum sentence the court allows and I hope people begin to talk about how common and insidious abuse is. Every person we hold accountable for abuse makes a difference.

Thank you."