#but his inner wilderness and passion I love very much too

[davidfarland]

3 Tips that Strengthen Middles

While writing the middle of a story usually isn't as tricky as the beginning, for many authors, the middle can start to sag if they aren't careful. Previously we went over three problems that come up with middles. Today we are back to add three tips to keep your middle interesting.

1. Vary Your Story

Sometimes a novel feels dull in the middle because your conflicts are not varied enough. In other words, as the reader is going along, he feels like the novel on page 400 reads just like it did on page 100. Yeah, maybe your character faces death at every turn, but that’s all that he faces. We’ve all read stories like that–tales so filled with action that nothing of import seems to be going on.

Very often I find this in survival stories. You see a tale about a teenager who goes down in a plane in the Alaskan wilderness. As he struggles to walk 400 miles south, he must first battle off a wolf. Then he gets to battle a wolverine. Then he battles a bear. Next he fights off a moose. You get the idea. The whole thing becomes rather episodic pretty quickly.

Romances can be tiring in the same way. Having a heroine who agonizes about a man and nothing else for six hundred pages would just be too much. That’s why romances tend to be short.

Essentially, no matter what your genre, too much of a good thing is just too much.

So as a writer, you have to wonder, maybe your reader would like something more in this tale. Perhaps it needs a mystery to be solved, a romance, some internal angst on the part of one of your characters–maybe even a character that we haven’t seen much of yet. Or maybe instead of just having the protagonist battling the antagonists, now it’s time to add a new problem–a conflict between the protagonist and his best friend. In other words, sometimes you need to try some things that you’ve never tried before in your storytelling.

When you look at conflicts, there are several major categories that you will hear writers talk about. These categories include: Person vs Person, in which a protagonist has a conflict with another person; Person vs Society, in which a character is forced to combat a stifling political regime–or perhaps just an odd family or clique; Person vs Nature, in which your protagonist fights against the natural elements; Person vs Self, in which a character must battle his own inner passions or vices; and Person vs God, a story where a man takes on his creator.

As you look for ways to vary your story, one way to do that is to ask yourself, “What kinds of conflicts don’t I have? Should I consider using one from another category?” It doesn’t have to be a huge diversion to add this. Maybe you decide, “I’ll add a Person vs Nature” conflict, and so as your hero is galloping through the dark to meet the woman of his dreams, his horse trips on a root and throws him in a ditch, leaving him bloodied and battered, and he has to limp four miles to his rendezvous, only to find that his sweetheart has already departed.

In short, varying your conflicts can help, but there are other ways to add variation to your story. You might consider the emotional beats that you’re hitting. Do you want to add something different? Maybe a little humor, a little drama, wonder, or some other emotion?

Sometimes just describing something that you’ve never described before can bring a scene some life.

2. Avoid Closure

Another problem that I’ve noticed is that a middle may sag because you as a writer have closed a conflict too early.

It is a natural human tendency for us to want to solve problems and get along. As writers, we sometimes resolve them too quickly. For example, you want your hero and heroine to love each other, and so halfway through the book, you have them kiss and get together. Now, maybe that’s all right. Maybe the book will still work, but it’s probably literary suicide.

If you’ve got some conflicts that have resolved halfway through the book, the fact is that you probably need to go and rip out those resolutions. Leave all wounds festering, all hopes unfulfilled, all demons alive and still roaming the city.

But don’t avoid closure for too long. If your reader suspects that your characters aren’t resolving problems because you as a writer just arbitrarily decided that they wouldn’t, you’ve taken too much time.

3. Avoid Agreement

One other trick that can help perk up a sagging middle is to avoid agreement. It’s not simply that two people are refusing to negotiate a problem; it might be that they see two different problems entirely: Imagine that your character has a longstanding habit of taking his wife out to dinner on Friday night. But his business has taken a severe downturn. Now maybe he imagines that his wife will understand if he doesn’t take her to dinner. After all, she’s a sensible woman. That’s why he married her.

But the wife sees it differently. She might see this as a sign that his love is waning. He’s been growing cold and distant for months, preoccupied with business. He’s spending more time away from home. This little Friday night extravaganza is all that reminds her of her days as a new bride. She might even wonder if he is having an affair.

So as they begin to talk about dinner, the husband might say, “Let’s not go out tonight.” To which his wife replies, “Are you sleeping with your secretary?” Bam! They can legitimately have an argument where neither sees the point that the other is trying to make.

Now, I have to warn you that this is another technique to use sparingly, but as you look at your sagging middle, look at interesting ways to keep your characters out of agreement.

#writing tips #writeblr #writing tips and tricks #writing help #nanowrimo #writing reference

[chanluster]

the duke and i | {m} ; {f}

teaser | bridgerton! au | f2l! au | approx. 25k words

“The Duke of Hastings can show you much more than what you write of.”

s u m m a r y >> wishing to be a successful writer in the regency period seemed next to impossible for the sole daughter of a dead earl. with arising pressures from your mother to tie the knot, you turn to your dearest friend, hwang hyunjin, duke of hastings and the most eligible, scandalous bachelor of the season, for assistance. when he suggests the insane of idea of marrying each other to help each other, you agree to the proposal, unaware of just how much the duke can teach you of the wonders of matrimony.

w a r n i n g s >> noble! reader, duke! hyunjin, hyunjin is a fucking rake, reader is a fucking nerd, also really really innocent, hyunjin is sosososo hot, a lot of teasing, endearments, sexual tension, kissing, making out, corruption kink!!!!! corruption! fucking! kink! oral (f. receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe hoemies!!) orgasming on multiple occasions, (kind of) hate sex, there is fluff i promise, tiny bit of angst

p l a y l i s t >> here!

t a g l i s t >> @fivefootfuryanon @h0eforhyunjin16 @seoulicitae @linoscult @aliceu @hwangi @shipsaremything98 @babyyynatty @kabira @danyxthirstae01 @sunseokkies @lunefilm @severetimetravelnerd @minaamhh @starry--koo @ninjaleeknow @hyunjeonnies @inlovewithasa @titleisyettobemade @maedesculpaeusoubi​@healinghyunjin @fleeingreality (send an ask if u wish to be added!!)

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e >> hello hi i am finally writing this fic!! bridgerton may be problematic but simon basset was still the sexiest man i’ve ever seen in period dramas so here is hyunjin being that exact sex god in this teaser i hope you enjoy <3

back to masterlist

“____, YOU HAVE WRITTEN A BLOODY MASTERPIECE!”

Your entire body stilled.

“I...I did what?”

“Wrote a masterpiece!” He swiped through the pages, lighting up at each word that passed his gaze. “A bestseller! An award winning novel!” 

A smile worked its way onto your lips. “You...you really think so?”

Sighing out in exasperation, he set the papers upon the desk as he began to lose his initial anger. “How could you be embarrassed about something so beautiful?” He put his hand on the gold chair, leaning onto its head. “Your descriptions were lovely, the characters are perfectly imperfect. You have really outdone a lot of the writers in circulation.”

Your shoulders sagged a little — almost as if you had been carrying a heavy burden, and this man had taken it off of you.

You made sure he saw your joy when you said, “Thank you, blondie.”

Seeing the pure contentment upon your face had your friend looking away, eyes narrowing to the plans once again.

“There was, however, one thing which needed improvement.”

The setback had you straightening once again, eager to hear. At least he was not sweetening it fully. “Go on.”

“As I was reading through, right till the end, I noticed a lack of very important details.” 

That was quite strange. “A lack of?” you asked, when you were so sure that you had added too much of everything.

“Yes.”

His fingers drummed against the velvet of the chair.

“I noticed that there was a deep lack of...passion.”

An incredulous look was your reply. “Passion?”

“Yes, passion. Desire.” He jerked his head towards the papers. “I hardly saw any of those emotions in the book.”

This new information was certainly quite worrying. “But I do not understand,” you started. “My whole novel is based on this relationship, of the love that blossoms and grows—”

“I understand that, darling, I really do,” he said. “I know what you are going to say.” 

The drumming continued. “But where is that residing in the chapters? Where is that physical lust implied in the characters?”

Lust. 

You had heard of the word before. Heard of its implications, yet never grasped the weight of its meaning. Was it just another form of longing? 

If only your mother had given you an education on this side of love.

“What do you mean...lust?”

Hyunjin raised a groomed brow. “What else could I mean, angel?”

The way he voiced that question, that endearment had you parting your mouth, unable to say anything. You tried to speak, to say something to ease the tension which came slithering back into the bedroom.

“I...what were you expecting? From the relationship.”

Curling his locks behind his ear, his gaze became obscure. “You spoke of forbidden love, of...of a coupling which should not be occurring but happened through the fate of the universe. Is that right?”

When you nodded, he carried on. “See, I did not sense that from their exchanges. Their emotions are tame, chaste. An innocence which cannot be tainted.

“Now where is the fun in that?”

You dared not break his gaze. “What is that ‘fun’?”

His eyes seemed to darken. “That ‘fun’ in the relationship is physicality. Where is that in your novel?” 

He took a step towards you. “Where are the unbreaking stares? The curious hands, aching to caress another’s? Where are the trembling breaths, the lust-stained sighs that fan lovers’ lips?”

The duke had you craning your neck back as he looked down at you. “Where are the kisses, my darling?”

You gulped. “K-kisses?”

“Yes, kisses,” he repeated softly. “Lips enveloping lips, tasting your inner workings? Travelling to your neck, your collarbone...places which cannot even be whispered in polite society?”

Each part he mentioned had its goosebumps pricking.

The bastard still did not stop. “Where is that passion, ____? Where is that forbidden love, which makes the heart burn wilder?”

And as he descended before you on his knees, hands settling on your lap, you had a feeling swirl up your sides which had never struck you before.

“If I were the man in your book, I would not be tame with you.” 

His eyes offered a new, intimidating darkness. “Because if you were my woman, then I do not think I’d control myself. The moment I’d catch the innocence dancing in your eyes, I’d have waltzed it away into my shadows.

“Only God could save you from my hunger, then.”

Silence descended upon the two of you.

One waiting for the other to speak, and the other unable to form the words to do so.

The moon had illuminated your husband, one side of his face glowing like a celestial being, the other side basked in darkness. How strange, when he had compared himself to it just a few moments before.

You seemed unable to look away from him. His gaze, always intense, now became so penetrating you wondered whether he could glance at your soul, quivering from his feedback. 

Improvements which you still did not quite comprehend, despite the implications.

Somehow, he could see it on your face. “I have a feeling you still do not grasp the idea. Is that correct?”

A half nod. “I…” God, speak! “I just...I have never understood it, Hyunjin.”

Your head dipped down, darting at the plains of your hands. “You asked me about lust, and I simply cannot answer because I do not know. I have never experienced such emotion.

“Hell, I have not witnessed a single action that you spoke of. How could you expect me to write of desires I have never even felt?”

This.

This was unchartered territory. This was a terrain you had not explored with him.

Yes, he was your best friend. But one does not talk of such...dangerous conservation when your best friend happens to be a man — a complete rake, at that.

It seemed as if the rake, too, was thinking the same. 

His legs, a force which had never let him down, threatened to buckle under him. His mouth opened, only for silence to answer you. 

Lord and all His subjects help him. He did not think he could contain it any longer.

And as his eyes exposed you, vulnerable before him, he only knew of one thing — one fact within this ocean of uncertainty you swam in.

He would jump into the waters for you. But not in the notion to haul you out to safety.

No, the duke would drag you down further, with him as your sole saviour.

Or even your destroyer. Your fated undoing.

For the Duke of Hastings will absolutely ruin you, body and soul.

“Hyunjin?”

A blink.

A singular action, dragging him back to dark, dark reality — sweeter than his fantasies as it sat before him, shy and wide-eyed.

An innocent reality all for him to defile.

“Yes, angel?”

You tried not to shudder at his lilting whisper. “How am I to be helped?”

The man did not even think of the possibilities, to your surprise.

If only you knew, how long he had kept them hidden for.

“How about...how about I assist you?”

Confusion washed over your features. “And how would you assist me, Hyunjin? You have never written a novel.”

His answer was a chuckle, revealing slight glimpses of his teeth as he stood.

“That is true, yes.”

Sitting down beside you, he planted his hands behind him on the bed, leaning into the position. 

“But what I can provide aid for is the one feature you lack in your writing.”

His voice right behind gave you a fright.

“Pure, raw lust.”

Looking over yourself, you watched him reclined in ease. Your speech was uneven as you said, “And...and how will you help me with that?”

“Simple, my darling.” A pause, looking you over. “I shall provide you with examples. Show you what truly happens between a man and woman when all they yearn for is each other.”

He saw the further questions in your gaze. The questions you dared not voice out loud, perhaps dared not understand. 

Smirking, he sat himself up, eyes never leaving yours as his hands encircled your own, bunched up in your dress. As his fingers brushed against your linen he felt his skin go aflame. 

“If, of course, you would let me.”

Tilting your head slightly upwards, you sensed a foreign warmth envelop your face, burning at the sight of your friend studying you like an empty canvas, begging to be filled.

Maybe you were an empty sheet of paper, waiting to be painted with guidance by the master. Maybe that master was beside you all along.

“What will you do to me, Hyunjin?”

There it was. The question which may have been his drug — his purest form of opium. 

Because when his hands travelled upwards, sliding to your face and imprisoning you with his stare, he knew he would become addicted.

A shame he did not care for his well-being when you were so fucking tempting.

“Show you what real passion tastes like.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin oneshot #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin

[bngtanah]

Unpredictable | VMIN

summary: vmin’s temwork is legendary

part of the EXPECTATION! oneshot collection.

pairing: jimin x reader x taehyung genre: pwp(smut) words: 3.1k warning: smut, fwb(?), threesome, unrealistic sex tbh, oral (m+f), after care (the barest amount), unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, mentions of alcohol. a/n: yeah idk what this is but...i wrote it and now you guys have to deal with it too lmao.

You let out a gasp as they gently push you onto your back. Taehyung and Jimin both follow you into Taehyung’s bedroom like wolves stalking their prey. Your gasp turns into soft moans as they bombard your body with kisses from every direction. Anticipation fills your body as you think of what’s about to happen between the three of you. You had been friends, plus more, with both of them for long enough to know that they could definitely hold their own in a one-on-one session, but there was something almost magical about how well they worked together.

Kneeling at the end of the bed, Jimin pressed butterfly kisses on each of your feet, sending tingles throughout your body.

Just inches above, Taehyung nipped at your stomach, smirking when goosebumps started to appear after every flick of his tongue. Your back arches, causing your torso to rise off the bed just slightly and he leaned over you, his hands on either side of your torso.

You tensed when Jimin moved onto one of your legs, leisurely leaving a trail of kisses from your ankle up to your inner thigh. For a brief second you think he’s going to move onto the sensitive flesh at the apex of your thighs, but he pulls away and reroutes his attention to your other leg. Your eyes briefly meet and when you see the smug look on his angelic face, you know he plans on torturing you tonight.

Taehyung inflicts his own form of torture when his mouth moves to the valley of skin between your breasts, purposely avoiding kissing your actual  breasts, before delicately kissing your collarbone. He finds a home there, biting and licking your skin until he pulled back and pressed a kiss to your lips and then your neck. 

You realize at that moment that they must planned this. Some sick kind of payback for leaving them horny and frustrated when you decided to spend the night entertaining the flirtations of a group of boys that weren’t the two of them. You weren’t really surprised; they always got like this when you made them jealous. You would be lying if you didn’t admit that you enjoyed it when they did.

Despite the pleasure pulsing through your body, you somehow managed to use one hand to grip Jimin’s hair while using the other to grab Taehyung’s darker locks. You give them both a tug and immediately two sets of intense eyes are staring up at you.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung is the first to speak, that trademark smirk on his face.

“You two are doing this because I didn’t give you enough attention when we went out?” You arch an eyebrow at them.

"We have no idea what you’re talking about, do we Tae Tae?.” Jimin protested, throwing an innocent glance to Taehyung as he stroked your inner thigh.

“I think you do.” You answer.

“Looks like our girl is feeling guilty for leaving us, Jiminie.” Taehyung teased and shifted his body so that he was beside you.

“Yeah she is. Maybe she regrets ignoring us all night after all.” Jimin grinned at his friend and moved to occupy the space on your other side.

“I told both of you I didn’t want to go out and yet you forced me. You got exactly what you deserved.” You glanced back and forth between them.

“What do you think, Jimin? Should we give her what you wants?”

“I don’t know, I think it would be better if she felt a hint of what we were feeling first.”

You roll your eyes when they share a wicked grin, only to gasp happily when they both dive for a breast at the same time. Your nipples harden as they suck on the dark brown buds and send a surge of pleasure to each mound. You feels herself grow wetter when their erections press into your thighs and you subconsciously spread you legs, hoping one of them will put your out of your misery.

Neither of them do, instead Jimin lets go of your breast and moved down so his head was between your legs. Though it isn’t exactly what you had been hoping for, Jimin eating you out is the very next best thing.

As Jimin devours your pussy, licking and lapping at your tender flesh, You glance at Taehyung silently watching you inhale with laboured breaths.

 “Are you just going to watch or are you going to come up here?”

Taehyung responded by kissing you heatedly, his tongue tangling with yours. You moan into his mouth when Jimin latches onto your clit and sucks on it repeatedly. Once again Taehyung grabs one of your breasts and your kiss grows even wilder until you pull away to catch your breath.

You give him a pointed look and Taehyung immediately knows exactly what you want. He moved quickly so he was kneeling in front of your face and maneuvered himself so his cock is above your head, grunting when you grab his ass with one hand and wrap your mouth around him.

“Oh, Fuck...” Taehyung growls as his back arched and his eyes roll beneath his lids. It didn’t matter how many times you gave him head, it always feels like the first time every time you wrap your lips around him. The possessive part of him always wondered how you got to be so good at it, how many men before him got to experience your heavenly mouth but the rest of him was just glad that he and Jimin were the only ones enjoying your oral skills these days.

You have to shut your eyes as well when Jimin’s lips move up and down your slit before lapping up the arousal that dripped from you. He snarled, sending vibrations through your inner walls and you tighten your thighs around his head. Jimin continued to lick, kiss, and lap up your wetness, gradually finding his way to that certain spot he knew would make you erupt.

Higher on the bed, You deep throat Taehyung, using your hand to cup his balls. Wanting him riled up, You pull up until your mouth his only wrapped around the tip of him before taking him fully into your mouth again. You do this several times, enjoying the growls and grunts that fell from his mouth.

You let out a loud moan of your own when Jimin hits the spot that sends sparks dancing behind your eyelids and you are pushed over the edge, climaxing hard against his face. Your moans send vibrations to Taehyung’s cock and he feels his balls clench tightly just before he comes as well, his release spilling into your mouth and down your throat.

Once he comes down from his high Taehyung collapsed next to you, a toothy grin on his face.

Jimin pressed one more kiss to your folds before he crawled up your body and pressed a kiss to your neck. Despite your recent orgasm, you find that you feel just as hot as you had been before they got started.

“Can you take me now  or do you need more time?” He asks softly. Jimin was always so caring and emphatic, as much as he wanted you, he was willing to wait for you to be ready again if you needed him to.

“I can take you to heaven and back Ji,” You replied just as softly, touched by how considerate he was. Both of them were actually, which had surprised you initially, considering their reputations. But you quickly learned that they were both more than eager to please when it came to you.

“Okay.” Jimin smiled before pushing himself deep inside of you. He paused for a moment, wanting to savour the feeling of you two joined together. After a while he moves cautiously, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace.

“Oh...” You moan when your eyes meet and you see the passion burning behind them. Never one just to spectate, you move your hips against his, making sure your bodies brush against each other every time they met. Wanting him deeper inside of you, you hook your legs around his back and exhaled with relief when his cock was buried inside you.

Jimin grunted every time he thrust into you and your inner walls clenched tighter around him. Soon it became more difficult for him to push inside of you and he knew it wouldn’t be long before you came.

You moan in time to his grunts, their pace growing faster and faster. With a gentle finger you turn his face so he was looking down at you and wrapped your arms around his neck to drag him down for a passionate kiss, unable to resist the siren call of his pillow soft lips. Jimin return it eagerly until you pulled back for air. Your head fell back when Jimin bucked up inside of you, going even deeper than he had been before.

When your eyes meet again you’re almost taken aback by the emotion you saw in them.

“You feel so good, Y/N. I can never get enough of you.” He whispered as his hips moved faster and harder.

“I’ll never get enough of you either,” You respond just before your climax hits. “Jimin!” You cried, your hot walls clenching tight around his probing shaft as he thrust inside you hard and quick, expertly claiming your body as his. 

A few more thrusts was all it took for Jimin to fly over edge with with you, spilling himself deep inside of you. Once your breath leveled out Jimin pulled out of you before rolling back onto his side of the bed. Before You had a chance to catch your breath, Taehyung moved between your legs and plunged inside of you, replacing Jimin. “It’s my turn now.”

Unlike Jimin’s more leisurely pace, Taehyung did the opposite and slammed into you frantically. You latched onto him and hissed blissfully, loving this side of him no matter how much it stung. The feeling of him rutting inside you was well worth the momentary pain, and you were mostly used to this by now. In fact, the last time the three of you had been together, Jimin was the more frantic one while Taehyung took his time, it pleased you that sex with them was anything short of predictable.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he pushed deeper inside of you. His pace was fast, much faster than Jimin’s and he was happy that the familiarity you two enjoyed allowed him to be rough with you at times.

His pace became so frenzied that it covered his body with both your and his own sweat. He moved a hand down to your clit and stroked, smirking when you twitched against him. You braced yourself as another orgasm crept closer and closer, your walls quivering and clamping tightly around Taehyung’s shaft.

“Y/N!” He yelled out his nickname for you as he came and your walls milked him dry.

“Uhhh…huh…” You whined into the darkness, and curled your toes upwards. “Yess!” You rasped, and snapping your eyes shut, your chest heaving with strained breaths as the spring that had coiled within you released and your pent up juices coursed freely down both of your legs. You writhed; your thighs quivering as your walls squeezed tight around his thick shaft, holding him deep inside you while you rode out your hot orgasm.

“I like it when you two get jealous” You giggled and stroked Jimin’s cheek while brushing back a few dark locks from Taehyung’s forehead.

“We know.” Jimin admitted with a nod.

“And that’s why we came up with the plan to get you as aroused as possible the moment we got you back home.” Taehyung revealed with small smile.

“Seriously? That’s what you two were thinking about while you were brooding in the corner?” You asked, slightly indignant as you shifted underneath Taehyung’s body.

“Yeah,” Jimin shrugged as he pressed a kiss to your wrist. “You knew what you were doing. Letting all those sleazy men buy you drinks and whisper in your ear.” Jimin’s lips twitched with anger just slightly while he spoke.

“And you know how much we hate that. Don’t you , Y/N?” Taehyung stroked your breast, groaning when your walls tightened around him.

“I might have an inkling.” Turned on, You stretched your arms above your head and gazed up at both men lustily. “So what do you plan to do with me now?”

You frowned when Taehyung pulled out of you and rolled onto his back.

Jimin shifted to his knees and pulled you onto his lap so that his erection was pressed against your thigh, somehow still aroused. You grumbled with frustration when he did nothing but smile at you and then glance at Taehyung over your shoulder. You could hear the younger man fumbling around with something behind you, though Jimin kept your attention on him so that you didn’t turn around to look. The sound of a bottle being capped made your eyebrow jump upward and Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before you had the chance to ask what they were planning.

“Are you ready, Tae?” He mumbled against your skin and looked behind you once more, the sadistic grin on his lips making your legs tremble with anticipation. When the pad of Taehyung’s thumb gently slots between your ass cheeks to softly caress the skin of your perineum, spreading a salve of cool lube against you, you know exactly what they’re planning.

“Yeah.”

Almost as if they practiced, Jimin slowly lowered you down until Taehyung’s cock was pressed against the opening of your ass. You gasped loudly and immediately tensed up as he slowly entered you, his intrusion eased by the healthy amount of lube spread over his cock.

“Relax for me baby,”Taehyung whispered in a sultry voice against your skin. Inch by inch he  carefully pushed himself in, until you finally relaxed against him. Once he was fully seated inside of you, you moaned softly loving the fill of him snug inside of you. After giving you a few moments to acclimate to the familiar but undoubtedly shocking sensation, Jimin gently pushed you back until Taehyung wrapped his arms around from behind you so your back was resting against his chest as much as it could. The moment you're situated, Jimin in front of you, his face hovering mere centimetres above your lips.

You tremble the moment you realize you’re pressed between your two best friends, friends that were devoted to you in every possible way. Your legs spread and you welcome the feeling of Jimin thrusting inside you once more. You always felt the most complete at moments like this, like the three of you were connected in a way no one else could understand.

A loud moan tumbled from your lips when both men started to move. They moved slowly, obviously showing concern for any discomfort you might have been feeling and while you appreciated the consideration this wasn’t your first time at the rodeo and their careful movements soon grew to not be enough for you. “Harder,” You plead breathlessly.

Immediately both men start to move faster, moving their hips against your in a coordinated rhythm.

“Oh fuck!” you whimper as you pull Jimin tighter to your chest.

"That's it, Y/N." Jimin sighed as Taehyung pushed in and out of you, feeling every push because of the section of flesh that separated them.

The more they moved, the louder you moaned, you could already feel you skin beginning to become marked and two pairs of hands groped and moved over your body but you didn't care. The pleasure you were feeling at that moment was more than worth it. Your body begin to tense and the coiling feeling deep within your center grow impossibly tight, causing you to reach forward for Jimin’s hair and backward to grab onto Taehyung's bicep to hold on for dear life, a tell tale sign that you were barreling towards your third orgasm of the night “I-I’m comi-” You muttered, barely able to force the words out of her throat before your head spun round and round and your gaze locked onto the ceiling of Taehyung’s bedroom as you felt yourself become undone. You felt like you were floating, but somehow grounded at the same time. A deep, body-shuddering tingle resided between your legs.

First Taehyung, then Jimin followed suit, releasing themselves into you and filling you to the brim before they finally came down from their highs. Jimin was the first to move, pulling away from your body and once again falling back onto his side of the bed. Taehyung is the next to come back to reality and much like his counterpart he carefully he lifts you off his cock and places you between himself and Jimin before lying down in his own spot.

You were the last to open your eyes or move, still exhausted after everything that’s happened tonight. You shift slightly and winced, immediately regretting that action and drawing the attention of the men on your sides.

Without giving you a chance to say no, both men get up and disappear into the apartment, searching to make some attempt to alleviate your pain. Jimin was the first to return with a small warm towel to wipe down your tired and sensitive flesh, once he’s finished Taehyung was kneeling next to you and motioning for you to lift your arms so that he could dress you in one of his over sized sweatshirts. One he knew you enjoyed wearing.

 “Thanks.” You smiled at them.

“You’re welcome.” They reply simultaneously.

They return your smile and return to encompass your body. You rest your head on Jimin’s chest, your lips curling further upward when he wraps his arm around your waist and strokes your back. Taehyung sidled up next to you and spooned against your back, gently kissing your neck and shoulders all the while whispering sweet words of how perfect you were to both of them in your ear. Your lips parted to respond and reciprocate all of Taehyung’s kinds compliments but Jimin pressed a gentle finger to the cleft of your lips before you had the chance. 

“Shh, get some rest, we took a lot out of you.” He advised and placed his palm against your chin “You can tell us how great we are in the morning, preferably with breakfast.” He giggled and honestly wish you had the energy to argue with him. But you didn’t and it only took seconds for you to lose the battle your were fighting against sleep, drifting off into serene unconsciousness with your favourite boys covering over your body.

#btsnoonanet #vmin fic #vmin smut #vmin x reader #jimin #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #bngtanah #expectation!

[padfootagain]

A Very Rose Mistake (V)

Part 5 : How Jealousy Gets Denied

 Here we go with a new chapter! I am back, people! Sorry for the long pause, but depression is kicking my arse these days, so writing is a little hard at times. Plus, this turned out longer than I thought it would be.

No warning to be applied here, except for a little bit of jealousy **demonical laughter**

Troubles are starting. It's coming folks!

I hope you like this part! Please, tell me what you think about it!

Also, if you want to explore more the area where the hike described in this chapter takes place in the Trossachs, here is a very nice website where you have a view from Ben A'an!

Word count: 4686

Holmes Chapel

2008

 Harry was late.

Again.

Third time in a week, and it was beginning to seriously get on your nerves. You repeatedly tapped your pen on your desk, while looking outside your window towards Harry's in the house next to yours. His curtains were closed, you hesitated to use the red piece of glass to signal him that you needed him, but neither of you had used it in a long time. So, you didn't really dare to reach for the drawer of your desk.

You didn't want to seem childish in front of him these days. And maybe it was because of his girlfriend. Maybe it was because he had a girlfriend when you had never had a boyfriend yourself. And maybe you were also getting more and more pissed because Harry was ignoring you these days.

You didn't want to be that friend, the one who called on him and acted clingy and asked for time to be spent with. You understood that Harry was infatuated. You understood that he liked his girlfriend and wanted to spend time with her, and it was normal. But that didn't mean that he had the right to simply cancel all your plans. You were okay with the fact that you couldn't just drop by to his house anymore unannounced, in case Felicia would be there with him. But you had planned this evening to work on your essay for your English class. You had checked with him if he was free, and he had promised to come by 5 pm. It was almost 6 now.

You checked your cellphone one more time, but once again, were met with no text messages or missed calls. He hadn't even warned you that he'd be late, which he used to do before Felicia got into the picture.

You didn't want to be that kind of friend who acted almost possessive, and couldn't manage to accept the arrival of his girlfriend in your inner circle of friends. But on the other hand, you reckoned that Harry was being that kind of friend too. The kind who abandoned his friends to spend all his time with his girlfriend. The kind who got so engulfed in his relationship that he simply dropped everything else the second she asked for him. It was excessive, you reckoned, but then, you weren't altogether surprised. Harry was passionate, and loyal to a fault. He was forgiving and too kind for his own good sometimes. You didn't doubt that in a relationship, he would be a huge romantic. Maybe he had an idea of love that was a little too idealistic, a little too naïve, with too many rainbows and unicorns involved and not enough heartbreak, but you couldn't really hold it against him. You could, however, hold against him that it was the third time in five days that he wasn't meeting you when you planned to spend a couple of hours working together, and it was driving you crazy.

It was a strange mixture of feelings that you experienced, between anger and aching and something a little cold that you couldn't really describe. It felt painful, that was for sure, but more than sad, it was painted red with annoyance and fear. A little voice in your head that screamed 'danger'. You weren't sure of what the feeling meant, but you knew for certain that you didn't like it all the same.

Lost in your thought, you jumped as your mother's voice rang through the house, calling for you.

"Y/N! Harry's here!"

You barely had the time to turn to your door before Harry was stumbling in the room, clearly out of breath.

"Hi, Y/N!" he grinned, staggering in the room and throwing his backpack on your bed.

"Hi," you tried to give him a smile, but it was hard to brush the irritating feeling away as it lingered despite Harry's presence.

"Okay, so… what do we start with?"

You tried to answer his question, you really did. But you were too angry at him for behaving like this for weeks now. So, instead, you answered his question with one of your own.

"Where were you?"

"What?" he asked back with a perplexed frown.

"I've been waiting for you for more than an hour. Where were you?"

He heaved a sigh, letting himself fall onto your bed.

"I know, I'm sorry I'm late. Felicia wanted to hang out a little after my shift at the bakery."

You stared at him for a moment, before standing up to go close the door. Harry watched you with an eyebrow raised in surprise, but he didn't speak nor did he try to interrupt you.

You heaved a sigh, nervously twisting your hands together.

"Harry… You've got to stop doing that," you told him, your voice slow yet he could hear in the way it trembled that you were angry and were trying to keep your voice down. "You can't just… tell me you're gonna study with me and then disappear to go snog your girlfriend instead."

"Y/N…"

"No, let me finish! You're not being fair! I haven't seen you outside of school in weeks. You're either late or you don't show at all."

"What do you want me to do? She's my girlfriend…"

"And I'm your best friend."

"I've got to make time for her."

"I get that. I'm not blaming you for seeing her."

"That's exactly what you're doing though."

Your expression saddened, the crease between your brows fading to reveal a fragility that wasn't there before instead.

"I get it that you want to spend time with her, but we had planned to study together. You can't just cancel everything for her either, you need a balance between the two. It can't be all about her. I get it that you want to spend time with her, and that's alright. But when we agree on a time to spend with each other, you can't bail out."

"I'm not making it all about her."

"You are though."

"If you had a boyfriend, you'd understand."

You cringed at that, wincing and glowering at him. You weren't good either at hiding how his words hurt you.

"What? I'm right," he shrugged.

"You're being a dick."

"You're overreacting."

"If I promised you that I would do something for you, and I didn't do it to spend some time with my boyfriend, wouldn't you be mad at me?"

Harry tried to deny your statement, but he would have been lying. And he didn't want to lie to you. So, instead, he heaved a sigh, and it was his time to wince.

"I guess…"

"Well, that's what you've been doing ever since you started being with her!"

You were starting to raise your voice, and Harry hated it. Not only was he annoyed, but he also simply hated seeing you upset, no matter the reason behind your emotion.

He felt his own anger rising, a mere reflex to hearing your acidic tone. But he knew that it wouldn't do anything good, and he didn't mean to upset you even more. He couldn’t deny either that you were right. He had been neglecting your friendship lately, and he could see now that it was hurting you. So, he heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath, pushing the words out reluctantly. "I guess you're right."

He reached in his backpack, grabbing a bag of pastries he had gotten from the bakery he worked at.

"I bought these for you, by the way."

You cautiously took the bag he was handing you, as if it were a trick of his. You peered inside to reveal a couple of chocolate muffins.

"These are my favourite," you breathed, hating the way your anger simply melted away.

He always had this effect on you. Harry always managed to do something so kind, no matter how big the gesture, that you couldn't stay mad at him.

Because you had never asked him for these cakes. He just saw them and thought of you.

For a moment, you were envious, almost, of his girlfriend. Because it had to be wonderful to be with someone who truly paid attention to people and wanted to make them happy as a reflex.

You knew that he hadn't bought the cakes for any particular reason. That he hadn't thought of anything besides the fact that you liked this flavour and it would make you happy to munch on these as you studied with him.

Your heart was beating faster, and you weren't sure why. You knew though that, as you thought of Harry's girlfriend again, you were bitter, and not only because how annoyed you were at Harry for being late.

"I know," he answered with the ghost of a smile, as if you had said the dumbest and most obvious thing.

You heaved a sigh, sitting by his side on your bed.

"Thanks."

"I'll make sure not to be late next time."

"Thank you."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his embrace.

"Are we good?"

"Yeah… we're good," you nodded, relaxing in his arms.

"Good, cause you need to help me with this history thing. It's so boring!"

"History is not boring! You're boring," you replied, your voice shushed by his jumper as you pressed your face in his shoulder.

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the hallway by your door, but you didn't pay much attention to them, way too comfortable in your best friend's arms to be bothered.

Until your door was swung opened, making both you and Harry jump and break away in a hurry. Your father appeared, seeming infuriated, and when he spoke, his voice was shaking with wrath.

"I told both of you to always keep this door open!"

Loch Lomond

2020

 For the first day with the entire family in Loch Lomond, Cassie and Amy took a day without any planning and proposed to go explore the shores and the wilderness around the lodge. Some members of your family were eager for a quiet day along the shores, but you wanted to go explore other parts of the region, which was why you were now sitting around the breakfast table with a guide book and your phone set on your laps, focused on finding the perfect spot for a hike.

"You've spent half an hour looking at maps, darling… just… choose a path and go there," your mother sighed, annoyed.

"What do you care? You're gonna stay here all day anyway. I want a nice spot. I want to climb and have a nice view, but I also want some forest."

Your mother rolled her eyes at you again, but chose to not say a word this time.

"I think I'm gonna go to the Trossachs and try to go to… Ben A'an. It has a nice spot, it should give us a nice view," you mumbled under your breath, talking more to yourself than to anyone else in particular. "But it's not too high so it shouldn't be too hard."

By your side, Harry was finishing to eat his pancake and drinking his cup of coffee, reading the newspaper. If he was attending your cousin's wedding, he also took this week as a well-deserved holiday. He had been particularly busy these past few months, and would enjoy to spend a calmer week. And if he usually never refused a hike or any activity outdoor, he longed for a good nap. So, when asked, he had chosen to stay around the loch for the day. Amy's grandfather was organizing an expedition to go fishing, and Harry was most likely going to join the activity. Cassie was up for the hike and was on her way to convincing Amy to join her (after all, a lot of kisses always go a long way and are hard to resist), so you wouldn't be going on your own, he could sit this one out and just enjoy a lazy day.

He was sitting next to you around the long table. He had been eyeing your hand for the past ten minutes, but hadn't dared to reach for it. Giving his usually affectionate way to display friendship, it shouldn't have been a worry for him to add a sprinkle of touches here and there for your family to better buy your dating alibi.

But the thing was, it was you. And things were different with you. And touching your hand wasn't the same as reaching for any other of his friends' or acquaintances'. He couldn't say why, didn't dare to, but it wasn't the same, so he read for the third time in a row the same line of his article while he silently weighed the pros and the cons of reaching out and taking your hand in his.

Meanwhile, Patrick was listening to your conversation while munching on his eggs.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" he asked, studying the picture on the guide book of the spot you had found from across the table, craning his neck a little to see the picture better. "It really does look like it has an incredible view."

"Sure!" you answered with an enthusiastic smile. "The more the merrier!"

You didn't notice the frown that settled on Harry's brow. You didn't notice his gaze abandoning the article to settle on you.

"Great! That sounds like a lot of fun. I love hiking. It's soothing, to be closer to nature."

"Yeah, me too. I try to go out as much as I can to take long walks or go hiking around L.A."

"I've joined a group actually last year. We organize hikes almost every weekend. It's nice to have people to walk with."

"Oh, that's so nice! Where do you go hiking?"

Harry studied the way you leaned towards Patrick, and the way he reciprocated your gesture, the open conversation closing around only the two of you. And he wished you were leaning towards him instead.

He shook himself out of this thought, though. What was wrong with him? You were just talking about hiking…

"Just around Glasgow, but I don't think we've been to this spot yet, I'd really like to try this trail."

"Well, then, you're welcome to join us!"

You reached across the table to take a piece of bread, and Patrick accidentally did the same thing as you at the same time, your hands meeting across the table.

You pulled away in a hurry, shying away and mumbling an apology under your breath. And Harry didn't miss a bit of the interaction. He didn't miss the way you wiggled on your chair, and the way you looked away, and the way your fingers struggled a little to wrap around your cup of tea.

And he didn't miss the way Patrick struggled to hide a smile, and the way he stared at you too intensely, and the way his eyes stopped on your lips for a moment before settling on his plate again.

Harry rolled his eyes in response, annoyed. He didn't sign up to play third wheel…

"Who else is supposed to come?" Patrick asked, bringing the conversation back to life.

"Cassie and Amy! I reckon that everybody else is having a lazy day today."

"Your boyfriend isn't coming either?" he asked, turning to Harry, who was still mostly hidden behind his newspaper.

"No, he said he'd go fishing…"

"Actually, I think I've changed my mind," your fake boyfriend jumped into the conversation, folding his newspaper to place it on the table next to his plate. "A hike sounds great!"

"You're sure? You said you were tired," you asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Breakfast gave me a boost, actually. I'd love to go hiking."

This time, he didn't hesitate, and he did reach for your hand that rested on the white tablecloth, wrapping his long fingers around yours and giving them a gentle squeeze. You gave him a grin.

"Great! Then, it'll be just the five of us! It's gonna be amazing!"

You turned towards your food to hurry to finish so you could get ready. Meanwhile, Harry and Patrick's gazes met, and if no words were exchanged, the way that Patrick looked down at his plate after only a handful of seconds spoke volumes all the same.

"Okay, you said it would not be too hard…"

You couldn't answer to Cassie through your panting. You had barely started and you were already out of breath, a sharp jolt of pain stinging your side. The path was steep, making your muscles ache already and your breath catch in your throat. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all…

"Well, it didn't seem so hard on the internet…" you replied, stopping to catch your breath.

The sky was clear and blue, with only a handful of lazy clouds drifting before the sun once in a while. Bosquets around the path clothed the high grass on each sides, while evergreen pine trees mingled their green foliage with the orange, red and yellow ones of deciduous trees. It created a strange and yet beautiful mix of colours that painted the slopes of the mountains, forming a forest across the lower parts of the rocky sides. The path in itself was clear and there was no fear of getting lost, and for as long as you were careful to not twist your ankle on a random piece of rock, you reckoned that the road was quite safe. Except for its slope, that was much steeper than what you had anticipated. You expected an easy hike, and were met with a pretty difficult one instead so far.

By your side, Harry was panting as well, and you were suddenly worried about his asthma.

"You alright?" you asked him with concern painted all over your features.

But Harry gave you a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine. Not ever trusting… you again with… planning a hike… but… besides that… I'm fine," he answered, his words cut by deep breaths he was forced to take in an attempt to calm his burning lungs.

"It'll get easier soon, look," you reassured him, nodding towards the path that stretched before you, and seemed to be less steep further on.

Patrick seemed to struggle less than the rest of your party, and he turned to you as he visibly held back on his speed to stay with the group instead of going further on his own.

"I'll take your bag if you want," he offered you, nodding at your little backpack where you had your bottle of water and some cookies that would be your prize for when you would reach the top.

But you shook your head.

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? It's no bother. I'm used to hiking in this kind of terrain, it's easier for me."

Harry rolled his eyes at the comment, but remained silent, merely trying to catch his breath himself.

Despite having some steep moments, the path was pleasant and the fresh air was doing wonders on your moral. For once, you were able to forget about the stress of your PhD, and spending some time with your friends put an unwavering smile on your lips.

The wind of autumn was chilly and on the less protected spots of the trail, it bit down on your cheeks, but it was vivifying too, in a way that gave you energy to go on and continue further up the path. Without your parents around, both you and Harry were more relaxed, and you fell back into your usual banter, acting more like friends than fake lovers again. And it was comfortable. A known territory you had been exploring for decades, familiar and safe. You were in a comfort zone that the two of you had built along the years, and it felt reassuring to fall back in this old safe area of your relationship for a few hours.

As you finally reached the top after more than an hour of climbing up the rocky path, your breath was taken away not only by the physical effort you had been through, but by the sight before your eyes. The top of Ben A'an offered almost a 360°C sight over the loch and the mountains all around, a perfect mix of peaceful water, blue sky, rocky mountains and slopes painted in green, orange, yellow and red by trees in fall. A couple of ravens croaked a few meters away, perched on mossy rocks and breaking the quiet of the place. The wind, strong and howling, seemed to punch your cheeks with each ghast of air. Facing you, Ben Venue stood taller, its sloops colourful, as if the work of a painter more than of nature. Loch Katrine stretched as a long patch of water, glimmering under the vivid sun, on your right. On the other side of a forest, laid the calm waters of Loch Achray, situated on your left. You rested your back against one of the rocks behind you as you took in the view, your feet safely set against the pebbles and dirt on the ground, the grassy area, punctuated with bushes, only starting close to the edge of the slope. The top of Ben A'an, that you had now reached, was rather levelled, and all over a perfect spot for a break.

"It's gorgeous," you breathed.

"Yeah," Harry nodded by your side, still out of breath after the last push that had been needed to reach the top.

You turned a worried face towards him.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're breathing funny."

He coughed a couple of times, but rolled his eyes at you.

"I'm fine, mum. Just out of breath because I've finished climbing up a mountain just now, you know?"

It was your time to roll your eyes at him.

"Well, sorry to get worried about your malfunctioning lungs."

"They're not malfunctioning!"

"You're asthmatic! They are malfunctioning."

"You're out of breath too."

"I don't sound like I'm about to die."

"I don't either. You've clearly never heard someone dying. That's not how it sounds."

You exchanged a playful smile, while he joined you, resting his back against the rock and enjoying the view.

"In all seriousness though," he went on, still struggling to ease out his breathing. "I might let you choose another hike after this one. It's a very nice view."

"Ha! I knew it!" you cheered, giggling.

Cassie and Amy were admiring the view over the loch as well, holding onto each other. Patrick was drinking some water a couple of steps away from you. But as you felt your body cooling down, you decided to use the last remnants of adrenaline of your long walk to climb on top of the rock you were resting upon, thus reaching the true top of the mountain. There would truly be nothing above you then but the blue sky and the occasional crows flying by. It wasn't a very elegant endeavour, as you struggled to climb up the rock. Harry hurried to grab your waist to steady you, scolding you as you slipped.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a deep frown, worry oozing from his deep voice.

"Climbing!"

"Y/N, it's not a good idea, it's slippery."

"Shut up and help me up!"

He rolled his eyes but helped you anyway. Because he could never say no to you anyway. Never had been able to since you were five years old and you asked to play with his favourite toy. So, he secured his hold on your waist, helping your movements to secure your climb, ready to catch you if you were to fall. But you didn't fall, instead reaching the top of the last rock to climb. You took a couple of steps on the top, to reach the highest part, now enjoying a view of both sides of the mountain, water and forests and steep sloops of mountains seeming to lay at your feet just for you. The wind was even more violent at the top, almost deafening, but you didn't mind. You felt so confident for some reason, your usual problems seeming millions of miles away. Standing there, at the top of Ben A'an, it felt like you had reached the top of the world itself. You let out a laugh as you opened your arms wide, letting the wind blow against you with all its strength, turning your face up towards the sun to let its warmth bloom across your cheeks.

And down the rock, still on the path, Harry was looking up at you, listening to your laugh carried across the sky by the strong wind. He took in your dishevelled looks after your climb, and the way the wind caught in your jacket, blowing it away from your body. The way the sun got caught on your skin, and the way your lips split in a glowing smile. A thin layer of sweat glistened on your face, illuminated by the sun. And your carefree stance made you look absolutely unreal.

There was a deep rumble in his heart. A bright, luminous kind of aching that he had been trying hard to forget for years. And he had succeeded. After years of trying, he had made the feeling go away.

So why did he feel like this again now?

Looking at you with arms spread, embracing the world, it seemed, with a happy and free expression written on your features, he just couldn't stop the feeling from settling in his heart once more.

You were beautiful. Radiant. Something about you made him unable to look away. And he hated it. He hated the fact that he felt like this about you. But he couldn't help it. So, he stared at you as you laughed away in the wind, an uncontrollable yet fond smile on his face.

Sometimes he wondered how you could even be real.

And for a moment, he was so entranced in you that he didn't notice that Patrick was staring at you as well.

Harry helped you climb back down, a safe hold securing your movements, and you held onto his shoulders too for leverage. Landing in his arms, so close to him, made him fiercely blush, but he reckoned that if anyone noticed, he could always blame the wind.

But then he was your fake boyfriend for this week. Which meant that he was allowed to be this close to you. He was allowed to hold you for a moment longer than what was needed, and he could always claim that it was to keep up appearances, instead of him simply longing to have you close. And if he repeated this excuse enough times in his head, maybe, just maybe, he might believe in it himself too.

As your gazes met though, it was impossible for him to pretend, and reflexes came rushing back as Harry stepped away from you, an embarrassed blush blooming all the way up to the tip of his ears. You were distracted from his reaction though as Patrick handed you a bottle of water.

This time though, Harry didn't miss the way Patrick looked at you as you thanked him, accepting the water bottle. He didn't miss the way his gaze lingered for too long on your fingers wrapping around the plastic, nor the way he glimpsed at your lips as you brought the bottle to your lips.

When he felt his blood boiling in his veins, Harry attributed the symptom to mere annoyance. Because he hadn't travelled all the way from LA to Scotland for a week, lied to your parents, gotten dragged in all that mess, taken the risk to face his own mother's judgement about the whole ordeal too as your parents were close friends… to end up playing third wheel for you and Patrick. And that was all there was to it.

Maybe the way his heart stomped in his chest was a bit too violent for mere annoyance, but it wasn't a safe choice to call the feeling jealousy, after all.

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

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#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writing prompt #event #4700 followers

[call-2-arms]

Character Ethnicity, Religion and Inspiration

// Because I want to talk a little about the inspiration and culture of my muses (I won’t go into too much depth about the canon ones since we know already, but I WILL mention them). This isn’t going to be heavily in detail, just a basic outline as I’ve realised I have a real passion for biracial muses--possibly because I don’t feel we see them enough in media today, especially parents of mixed race children, and simply because I enjoy the different cultures between them and how that effect their children etc. I also feel like biracial folks are shoved under the bus a LOT because they “aren’t dark enough” or “you don’t look (insert race)” and that’s bullshit, so I think I like to focus a lot on that and bring light to the situation, or at least I realised that when I was thinking about making this meta. I’ll go alphabetical through my muses (including the ones that I don’t RP here but are still part of my muses lives, and my Inquisitor Kaaras).

This will be a little long, so I’ll post it under the cut.

- Mentions of fantasy racism.

- I use a non white washing filter on my icons for those who are poc. :) PLEASE note that even with filters, DA:I lighting isn’t the best at depicting colours.

- Closed character means I do not RP them here but they are still muses I share here

- Please note that Thedas is not the country they may seem to be inspired by, but MULTIPLE countries of inspiration. These are my headcanons alone. 

Abzi Pământ: Dalish elf from Nevarra ( Egyptian / African inspired ). His clan is a stationed clan in the wilderness of Nevarra, they perform rituals for their dead much like the humans of Nevarra (Egyptian). However, their clan also practices in body modifications, scarification and body plates. Abzi’s clan has an unusually high life span for Dalish elves, which may be due to their stationed life, or their rituals to the gods. Abzi is a warm, medium to dark in skin colour. Abzi’s clan follows the Dalish gods, however, they practice their worship in different ways to most, with sacrifices and preserving their dead (mummification). Abzi’s accent is Egyptian.

Aithell’ana ‘Aith’ Adaar ( closed character ): Ex Dalish elf, ( European inspired ), who has since abandoned and refused to follow her former Dalish way of life. Aith is from the Brecillian Forest, Ferelden . When she came into her magic, she was forced to leave her clan and attacked by templars. She holds hostility towards many Dalish because of her negative experience, and refuses their gods. She was only 7 and did not gain her vallaslin before she was set to be on her way. Aith was adopted by the Adaar family (and Kaaras’ adopted sister) when Kaaras stumbled upon her in the forest. Aith is Caucasian in colour. Aith is atheist and does not believe in any gods. Aith’s accent is Welsh.

Arach Sgott ( closed character ): A city elf from Starkhaven, ( Scottish / European inspired ), he has red hair and pale, blotched skin. His grandparents were former Dalish elves, but his parents lived in the alienage. He wished to embrace his Dalish heritage, so he had facial tattoos (not vallaslin). Unfortunately, Arach’s experience with most Dalish has been negative due to their contempt towards “flat ears”, so he has stopped paying attention to his heritage and makes sure to remind others his tattoos are not vallaslin. Arach is agnostic, he doesn’t know what to believe. Arach’s accent is Scottish. 

Bastien Beaufort: Bastian is a templar of Orlais, a noble born son and biracial ( French / French Louisiana inspired ). Both mother and father are from Orlais, but his mother’s side is darker in skin tone while his father is Caucasian. His mother has Marcher ( French Louisiana inspired ) ancestry, while his father is of a strong Orlesian ( French inspired ) line. Bastien is a medium to dark skin tone. Bastien is a devout Andrastian who holds his religion very close to him, taking vows to keep himself to the Maker and Andraste (he is abstinent). As someone who was punished for his interest in other men, he believes his sexuality is a sin and he must repent. Bastien’s accent is French.

Cassandra Allegra Calogera Filomena Pentaghast: As in canon, Cassandra is of Nevarran ( Egyptian inspired ) descent, her skin colour is a light to medium, olive tone. Cassandra is a devout Andrastian, however, she can learn to accept the gods of others if given time and for someone to teach her. I have always heard a more Romanian accent when it comes to her VA, so I do believe that their accents are Romanian inspired.

Fintan ‘Finn‘ Ghilain: Finn is a Dalish elf from the Dales ( Irish inspired ). He is descended from the Ghilain clan, although he was moved as a boy with his family to Clan Durgen, who resided closer to the Frostbacks. Finn left his clan to wander alone when he was younger, due to the idea that he believed elves and humans could somehow find peace together. He is ghost white in skin tone and has the hereditary condition of Poliosis (whitening of the hair). He is spiritual in beliefs, but exceptionally open minded to all spirits and gods. Finn’s accent is Irish.

Garrett Hawke: Of Lothering, Ferelden ( European inspired ). Hawke’s father was a Marcher, olive in skin colour while Leandra was Caucasian. Hawke is of olive skin himself, a little lighter than Malcolm. Hawke is atheist, and if anything, holds contempt for any god or those who claim to be gods. Hawke’s accent is English ( as heard in game ).

Ignis Scientia: As of FFXV, Ignis is Caucasian and pale in skin colour. I do headcanon that he is of a Tenebrea blood line, however, the Scientia family has been in servitude of the Crown for such a long time that they speak the King’s tongue. Ignis follows the Six. Ignis’ accent is English ( as heard in game ).

Jaime Tywin Lannister: Of Casterly Rock, Westeros. He is Caucasian. Jaime follows the Seven, although he is more agnostic in nature. Jaime’s accent is English ( as heard in the series )

Kaaras Taashath Adaar: Kaaras is a Vashoth qunari, whose parents fled the Qun ( East Asian / Greek inspired ) when knowing they were expecting a child. Kaaras knows little of his parents upbringing under the Qun and was ignorant as a child to why they were so much different from the other children. He grew up in Southron Hills, Ferelden, though was born in Starkhaven, aided by a Chantry sister. He is pale grey in skin tone, his father being medium to dark and his mother being pale like him. Kaaras is Andrastian, however, he is very open minded when it comes to other religions and gods, believing that all gods stemmed from some kind of truth. He loves learning of other religions and cultures. Due to growing up in Ferelden, Kaaras’ accent is English ( as heard in game ).

Latika Madan: A city born elf from Kirkwall ( Indian inspired ). She is medium to dark in colour. Her family history is one of slavery and in the alienages of the Marches. Most elves in the alienages are forced to believe in the Maker, however, Latika never took to the human beliefs. She believes in respecting ones self and inner peace, however, she will use Andrastian curses as it’s what she grew up around. Due to growing up in Kirkwall, Latika’s accent is English.

Lyna Mahariel ( closed character ): The Hero of Ferelden, born and raised in Ferelden’s wilderness in the Brecilian Forest ( Native American inspired ). Lyna is of strong Dalish heritage and faith. She is a light to medium tone in skin colour. Lyna’s accent is Welsh.

Rike Zimmerman: A Vashoth, abandoned by her parents and left on the doorstep of a small village in the Anderfels ( German / European inspired ). She was raised as humanly as possible, but has turned to a very spiritual belief. She befriends animals more than she is interested in people. She is dark in skin tone with a grey undertone. Rike’s biological parents are of the Qun ( East Asian / Greek inspired ). Due to growing up in the Anderfels, Rike’s accent is German.

Talan’ash: Tal’Vashoth from Kont-aar, Rivain ( Spanish influenced ). Talan was born under the Qun ( East Asian / Greek inspired ). He speaks a multitude of languages, and grew up mingling with the people of Rivain, although still subject to the strict teachings of the Qun. He still follows the beliefs of the Qunari people, that their bodies are hosts to who they are and that their spirit will move on to still fulfil its purpose, although he has struggled coming to terms with being Tal’Vashoth. He is medium to dark in skin tone, with a grey undertone. Due to growing up in Rivain, Talan’s accent is Spanish.

Tobias ‘Tobi’ Ettore Clarke: A human of Ferelden, his mother was Chasind ( Māori inspired ) and his father was Antivan ( Italian inspired ). He grew up with a mixed childhood when it came to culture and language, as well as religious beliefs. Tobi hated feeling different from everyone else, so he embraced his mother’s Chasind heritage, hoping that he would be welcome to their village one day. Tobi is atheist and frowns upon anyone who believes they require worship. Tobi is olive skinned. His face and body tattoos are linked to his Chasind heritage ( Māori inspired ). Due to growing up in Ferelden, his accent is English.

#Headcanons: all #Meta: all #Culture #religions #inspiration #ethnicity #culture and ethnicity #ooc #cw: fantasy racism

[sinfvls]

          hey all you cool cats and kittens !  it’s carole desi from big cat rescue and i’m here to deliver a tubular trio to this glorious group. i’ve been on the hunt for a solid supernatural rp for idk how long and i’m so stoked to find a home in bloodshq  &  begin writing / plotting with every single one of you !  admittedly, their backgrounds are pretty underwhelming because they’re all new muses ( lord help me ) and i’m still getting a feel for them, and i have just a few wanted connections up for grabs listed at the end of each of their blurbs, so if you see any that strike your interest please feel free to slide into my ims ( but i’m also super open to anything, so feel free to hit me with your ideas too ! )  &  now without further ado, i give you  DAMON BELMONT ,  NICHOLAS SPENCER  &  VERONA ADLER. 

damon belmont  has been seen walking the seattle streets. the werewolf has been in town for  one week, and are known to be  aloof  but also very  loyal.  the  thirty seven  year old is the  vice president of the mongrels motorcycle club.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble charlie hunnam. their pronouns are  he/him.  damon’s werewolf gene is  triggered.

statistics & connections

doesn’t know who his parents are / were.  he was found abandoned in the woods of hayfork, california as a wee babe by a pair of hikers.  tossed into the social system, he hopped from foster home to foster home, until finally sticking with a woman named delilah belmont, who eventually opted to adopt him.

she lived off the grid, in the backwoods, where she fended for herself by hunting for meat, growing her own produce, and even tended to livestock. damon thrived in this lifestyle, learning how to survive in the wilderness. he didn’t go to public school. instead, he was homeschooled by delilah, who taught him only what she valued to be of great importance. she wasn’t gonna raise no soft, yellowbelly who couldn’t fend for himself.

however, one day while out hunting, the two were attacked by a grizzly bear and it mauled delilah nearly to death before damon put a few rounds of bullets into it. there was no saving her, and she knew it. instead, she begged damon to end the pain. out of mercy, he killed her, and thus triggered the werewolf gene he didn’t even realize was in him. the confusion he had to deal with alone as a result was heartbreaking. he didn’t understand what he was, seeing himself as a monster whenever there was a full moon to unleash his inner beast. damon thought he was the only one of his kind, until he met a group of mysterious travelers.

the mongrels motorcycle club, what everyone assumed to be a band of criminals. damon first met them at a dive bar in town, where he’d been planning to drink himself into a stupor. they knew what he was immediately and offered him a home; a new family with them. while he had so many unanswered questions, the young werewolf also had nothing to lose, and so he joined the bloodmoon pack and never looked back. 

the acceptance and relief from knowing he wasn’t an abomination was overwhelming. never did he think that he would develop such a strong bond with another person, let alone an entire pack of werewolves. the bloodmoon pack has been travelling just about everywhere, stopping in areas to rest before carrying on again, living as vagabonds, and picking up “strays” / other packless werewolves along the way. he’s been with the pack for sixteen years.

( more tba yikes )

wanted connections

bloodmoon pack / mongrels mc members.  still need a president, sgt at arms, road captain, enforcer, chaplain, etc. info can be found on the wanted connections page on the main !

soulmate. listen, he’s been around the block and i think it’s safe to say he’d have found his mate by now asdjkhg. she could have already been with the pack when he joined, or joined after him at some point. completely open to plotting all the details. filled by cleo clarke

( more tba maybe sdjhfg )

nicholas “nick” spencer  has lived in seattle for  twelve years, and are known to be  broody  but also very  altruistic.  the  twenty one  year old human  goes to school at seattle university.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble finn cole. their pronouns are  he/him.  nick is  unaware  of the supernatural.

statistics & connections

born in los angeles, california to a pair of admirably gifted parents, nicholas spencer lived a fairly privileged first eight years of his life. his mother, a soap opera actress, and his father, a talented chef, gave both nick and his older sister a life full of love and luxury. yes, everything was absolutely perfect in their world. until it wasn’t.

at barely eight years old, nick was violently thrown along with his sister into one of the most traumatic experiences any child could go through; they lost their parents to a fatal car accident. being forced to move to seattle with his sister to live with their aunt, he didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process what was going on. the pain of his loss was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though their parents abandoned them. and thus, nick’s out of control behavior was born.

suicide mention tw.  he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, nick found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his aunt’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in nick’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing.

language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with nick spencer. he was quite eloquent, sure, but the one thing he always did was play basketball at one of the outdoor courts in seattle. anytime he needed to blow off steam, to contemplate life, or just to shoot hoops, you could always catch him at the court. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned nick the win and three thousand dollars as a prize.

bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, nick embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he keeps safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to seattle university, where he’s now a literature major with plans of either becoming an author or perhaps an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

( more will be added later oop )

wanted connections

his three best friends ( see listed in wanted connections on the main ! )

someone he doesn’t see eye to eye with, maybe opposite in personality or morals. most likely someone he went to high school with or someone who also attends seattle university ( bonus points if they’re supernatural )

some bad folk he may have accidentally gotten mixed up with, either in the past or current ( or both sdfhkjg ). could literally be ANYTHING, maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have, maybe there’s some drug scandal he got mixed up in and now can’t get out of ??  

more tba eventually !

verona adler  has been seen walking the seattle streets. the fae has been in town for  three years, and are known to be  restive  but also very  fervent.  the  twenty four  year old works as a  bar & grill waitress.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble dove cameron. their pronouns are  she/her. 

statistics & connections

oakdale, louisiana.  born and bred.  she was raised middle to two brothers, one older and one younger, but was the absolute apple of her mom and dad’s eye, being their only daughter. her family was reputable, as were the strawberry fields they owned. people from all over the state would pay a petty price to pick a few cartons full of the famously juicy adler strawberries.

at a very young age, verona had to learn how to better control her emotions, which is very difficult for a child to understand and do. she was known for glowing tantrums, and levitating when particularly elated over something. however, in due time, the young faerie learned to hide these paramount parts of herself from the world surrounding them, out of fear over the potential backlash of human ignorance.

she’s been very personable her entire life, much like a light in a dark room. excelling in school, she mastered both academics and the social aspect, she was on the school’s yearbook committee as well as the cheerleading squad, and played an active part in her community as best as she could, generally through volunteer work. a true southern belle, through and through.

however, verona was exhausted. she couldn’t stand pretending to be something she wasn’t; hiding her true colors from the world just because the world was deemed to be much too censorious when it came to being different. while she adored her family and friends, she wasn’t being true to herself which left her unhappy behind closed doors. so, at the age of twenty one, she found an ad in the paper for a roommate in seattle and the city was evidently huge in comparison to her small town. the thought of living somewhere that was hopefully more accepting was an absolute dream, so she packed her things and made the move.

she’s been living in seattle for three years now, working at the same bar & grill she started off with as a waitress and she loves it. she loves meeting people that come from all different walks of life, the mixture of humans and supernatural is perfect. though she’s still a little put out by hiding her true self, she enjoys being surrounded by a bigger populace of supernatural beings that she generally doesn’t have to hide around.

( more tba probably ... eventually )

wanted connections

exes / flings / one night stands.  her friends calling her a slut is just teasing and gets a laugh out of her, a stranger calling her a slut will put vee in a full on rage, but all in all .... girl gets around.  NOT because she’s a sex fiend, but because she loves the idea of being loved, and therefore looks for it in all the wrong places sdfahkfjg. 

best friend ( supernatural only pls ! ).  she needs someone she can fully open up to without worry of being judged, rant / vent to each other about all the shit in their lives, talk about things they wouldn’t normally be able to talk about in the public, etc. a good wholesome friendship.

someone she annoys / who annoys her / or both.  girl is basically a constant ray of sunshine & agonizingly curious / nosy, and that probably presses at least one person. she can’t stand some who’s a grump without a cause & has an insatiable need to pick people apart in order to find out wtf happened to them / the reason why they are the way that they are.

maybe her brother(s) ?  i mean, if anyone wanted to pick them up, they’re free to snag !!

more tba later !

#bloods.intro #* 𝙙 . 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩 ╱ intro . #* 𝙣 . 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro . #* 𝙫 . 𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro . #suicide tw #murder tw #death tw #made individual intro tags thinkin i was gna post individual intros #i played myself

[hunterartemis]

The Assistant: (Theseus X OC) Epilogue (Finale): Nostoi

Words: 5562

Chapter Theme: The Shores of Scotland by Max Richter : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DgAQtr8g_mA

Theseus waited behind Ms. Nishimori because he couldn’t see a blooming thing because of the thick shroud of foggy mist.

“The sky was completely clear until now...” Theseus exclaimed, “where did the fog came all of a sudden?”

“Sore wa Kiri ja nai—It is not fog” Ms Nishimori had already advanced few steps, her silhouette hazed and edges softened as she entered the whiteout, “they are watering the trees.”

Theseus stopped for several seconds, watering the trees? He couldn’t believe that such massive amount of mist which only appears in the dawn of deep winter can appear thus by watering the trees. Either the trees were inhumanly massive or the waterbearers were airy sylphs floating around and throwing miniscule droplets of water—but all that seemed possible in the Beedle the Bard’s stories, not in real life.

“You don’t believe me do you?” Someone spoke from his behind.

Theseus swiftly turned at his back, and saw Ume Nishimori standing on a rock with her hand extended towards Theseus, and as their hand joined, with a crack they vanished from the edge of the misty veil near the moonbridge.

When Theseus’ vision adjusted with the views, he found himself standing under the endless canopy. He could not comprehend where Ume Nishimori disappeared, and even after several called, no one answered. Confused with this unexpected abandonment, he nervously where he was. And like the streak of sunlight peaking from the mask of cloud, a strange melody entered through the labyrinth of the leaves.

He had no choice but to listen to the strange song the reverberated through the forest around him. A strange mist felt against his skin and for the first time he felt warm and comfortable. His heart relaxed as he looked around him from the ground to the heights of the ceiling of leaves; suddenly he felt stupid about his loss of direction—it was right there... straight ahead.

His pace lead him steadily towards the lighter section of that forest as he followed the direction of that strange tune. His eyes looked straight up towards the canopy as he saw a great silver blue bird glided over the forest singing that strange song that filled Theseus with surety and direction. At the the same time he felt that he wasn’t alone in that forest, someone or something was running past him with a strange invisibility that felt his heart with ease. He tried to look around to see them and he saw a strange creature. It looked like wolf but had none of it’s feral nature—it had glowing silver coat, beautiful turquoise eyes and many bellowing tails that left a trail of glowing mist as it almost floated alongside him. Theseus knew about that creature; it was the most famous and mysterious Japanese Nine-tailed-fox. It had been attempted to be captured and bred by foreign breeders for many centuries but none of them were successful. He looked at his other side and saw couple of more, each one with different eye colour. Their presence assured that he was never alone, never lost.

He had no idea why the beasts were trying to befriend him, he was unknown, he was a foreigner... he should fear them, as they should be wary about him. He was so mesmerised by them that he didn’t even realise that he was standing at the edge of the forest.

The scenery was something out of a fairytale. A brook flowed with roaring current like a flashing line of thunder through the brown arms of the surrounding mountain. The song of that great bird resonated through the valley and as if to enjoy the song, the endless lines of foreign flowers lolled their head. Pink and white petals blew with the gentle and warm wind like lost love letters from some unknown trees. In the world where everything slumbered in wintry covers, this Eden woke with the spirit of spring. Nature seemed to embrace the unknown man from the faraway land with open arms. Not even the first glimpse of the great forest of Hogwarts evoked such a passion in Theseus’ heart. He put aside his coat and sat on the pebbled shore of the brook...

For the first time, in a long time, he could see the heart and spirit of his brother; for the first time he understood the rush behind the life of wilderness—and it made him tremendously peaceful. However no matter how hard he tried he could not fit Maxine’s silk clad, diamond laden, sharp figure into the peaceful Eden. In his spirit of serenity, a mild tremor arose that compelled him to rethink about the woman who pulled him in this far eastern shore. Like an illusive dream, he felt she was slipping away once again. He felt tremendously jealous of Newt who saw her in wilderness—why else she would voluntarily choose such an obscure job! He tried to imagine Maxine’s face in the midst of those nine-tailed fox or that bird, nothing but haze appeared before him. He looked at the silvery mid-day sky, perhaps hoping that her face will appear there.

In the meanwhile, Ume Nishimori was already other side of the forest, upon the hill from where women watered the trees. With swift feet she entered her living quarters and sat herself down. She needed to make herself scarce lest she mars the union of two waiting people. The moment she saw Theseus, his mind was made clear to her like an open book—she was a skilled legillimens after all. However she did not want the straight-forward meeting, thus under her slightly bitten lip hid a plan of mischief.

“Who are in water-duty today?” she called an attendant, dressed in violet cotton yukata.

“Yoka-san, Ryoko-san, Mine-chan--”

“Tell them that they can take the day off...”

“But Nishimori-sensei, who would water the trees? It is still not spring yet, the trees will lose moisture--”

“I didn’t tell you not deprive the plant, I have just given them a day off. And as for your concern, Matsu-chan would be enough to handle the entire forest.”

“Hai...” the attendant left without another word. After she left, Ume Nishimori poured herself some tea, and through every sip, smiled a mysterious smile.

“Now then, Matsu-chan, let’s see how much you’ve learnt”

...

The moment the attendant reached in the inner sanctum of the living quarters, Maxine knew that either she was summoned for the water duty or for Nishimori-san. As soon as she heard about her duty, she bid the attendant goodbye and started to dress. She picked up a maroon pinstriped juban top and the black hakama pants to put on for today. It was quiet meditative, the process of Japanese dressing, or as she thought. Because a snippet of yesterday’s conversation with Ume-sensei was still plaguing her mind.

“what is going on Matsu-chan?” she asked softly leaning on the door panel as Maxine sat under the window, looking outside ponderously. She glanced slightly and stood up as soon as she heard her professor’s voice. She sat down obediently as Ume-sensei decided to take a seat beside her.

“What is going on Matsu-chan... ” Ume spoke with her meandering tone, “your thoughts are so loud and distracting today, I couldn’t concentrate on the firebirds at all! You know they are ovulating right?” seeing that Maxine didn’t respond at all, Ume turned her student towards her by the shoulder to take a proper look at herself, “look at you, all tensed up—no no, occlumency won’t work on me now—I have seen too many things.”

“Then tell me what should I do?” Maxine asked her sincerely, “my days are getting closer and I have said something irresponsible to someone I don’t know what to feel about—I have told Theseus that I will wait for him before I left.” she looked away from the penetrating gaze of her teacher “how I am supposed to face him--”

“You are having second thoughts about him?”

Maxine couldn’t answer. She silently lowered her face with shame and confusion.

“Any sane person would have told you that you shouldn’t have done it, or advised you to give it some time” Ume said reflectively “but what can I say,you have always been very hasty Matsu-chan. The moment you started Mahoutokoro, I have been watching you. You are hasty, attention seeking--“

“Attention seeking?”

“Yes, and irresponsible—and that it what also makes you insecure and do things that you feel oblidged to do but do not mean.”

“I am not a people pleaser, if that’s what you mean. I never were--”

“Oh yes you are... it’s your survival mechanism, otherwise how else you survived in that house of your family if you were not. Humans, no matter how we claim to be better than the animals, are the same as them. We fit ourself to adjust to our environment long enough for us to leave or change. And as for the dilemma of yours, it’s the same.”

“That seems a little extreme even for a legillimens for to figure out.”

“How would you justify your thoughts about him then? You fall for him but do not pursue him, you get cowardishly angry when he was with someone who was not you. And you found yourself a perfect situation to justify your departure from him, in conclusion you decided to return your poisonous roots—to Anatole.”

“Sensei, you know very well that I do not want to talk about it--”

“—you chase, you cheat but you never try to reach, because you cannot stand rejection. The child that feared exclusion have grown up to be a woman who is too insecure to take a ‘No’. And like a unsatified man with a virgin wife, you loiter around with thirst in your heart and grab the nearest whore who stands in your way”

“—please professor, I beg you to refrain from using that term. Newt was everything that I ever hoped for and he is not the ‘whore’ you are suggesting--”

“—and again that chase begins, that superiority complex kicks in and replacing his fiancee with the mistress begins. You know it, deep down in your heart that you never want to give in—you would rather have a whore than someone your equal. and the further I see, I feel that the man of you is the same also—coward, full of himself, reluctant to be rejected from the person he is mad for and thus he chooses convinience over passion.”

Maxine listened to her without interruption. Her face was low and reflective—never in her life has her entire character been stripped naked in front of her own self. She felt as if she was witnessing her own autopsy.

“—so you are saying that I should abandon him--”

“—no... no.” Ume shook her head irritably as if Maxine got the entire thing wrong, “I am so sick of you feeling afraid, I am sick of seeing you fearing that once more your heart would be broken... in fact I think that I think you’ll leave him the first chance you have--” she stood up on her feet, “when you are insecure you do not only hurt yourself but others as well. I suggest you to think it through like an adult.”

Why would she say something like that? why would Ume-sensei say something like that? She was well aware of her mind games, hell! It was from her she learnt the art of twisting words but this time, she felt everything was piercing through her skin. Does she not believe in her own student, or does she think that her student is not confident enough...

Maxine climbed the mountain with doubts and counter-doubts firing against her mind. She tied the bowstring against her longbow as her frown deepened. Her quiver full of glittering transparent looking arrows fell off her shoulder with her absence of mind—disaster! In Futen Sanctuary, when the rain is scarce and the grounds are dry, specially trained archers fire water-arrows from the highest peak of the mountain towards the forest. The arrow melts into mist and precipitation to moisten the soil. The archer needed to be exceptionally nimble and steady to fire the water-arrows, each of which in their solidified form packed the power of a raging flood that had the power even to erode a mountain. Those who studied Beast Trainership in Mahoutokoro under the governence of Yonomori Family are well aware of how hard it was to master the archery of waterarrows, and very few are as capable. A long time ago it was the art that showed Maxine the centre of peace in her mind when the world she knew fell apart.

The mental state of Maxine requires no explanation at this point; tension of firing the bow properly added into her jeopardised mind. She forcefully breathed in as she lowered her bow to fix her arrow. Her posture erect and fixated at the very top of the forest, the upper canopies fluttering into the gentle wind caused by the Song of the Forest guardian, the silver Heron bird—she warned the occupants of the forest to take cover as the archer is in position to fire the arrow.

Theseus sat on the bank of the brook, that strange songbird that he heard earlier floated like a great silvery-blue kite at the gray sky towards the mountain on the other side. Theseus’ eyes followed his gliding motion, until he saw her.

No, it was no mistake. Despite all the distance, the unfamiliar austere clothing, he knew whom he saw. It was the old familiar figure of Maxine, standing like some tall mast of a ship as her unseen long hair bellowed like some black standard behind her. Something glittering and long was rested upon the peculiar looking bow, and her figure stood still as the marble statue. Theseus rose slowly, without blinking an eye, he could see her drawing the bow taut and far, his heart throbbed like a boy and his whole body couldn’t contain the impulse to call her

Maxine...

WHOOSH

Her hand shook as she let go of her arrow, something which was forbidden on every account. The entire mountain valley resonated with her name, as if the entire forest was calling her. She knew that voice, for a moment she thought she hallucinated but when she looked at the other side, she saw the tall figure of Theseus, standing and looking at her way. When Maxine got into her senses, she had already fired her first arrow—it was going straight towards him.

Trouble.

The arrow followed it’s crooked passage towards Theseus’ heart and he stood there as if he has locked his eyes with the basilisk, he couldn’t even see Maxine’s figure on the rocks. The glinting point of the arrow grew closer and closer and suddenly he felt a pressure on his chest, as he toppled at his back towards the stony ground.

After several moment of darkness, Theseus’ eyes fluttered into the light. In the greenish chroma of the forest, he saw Maxine was leaning towards his face. After a few moment when he realised the close proximity of their distance, he uncomfortably wiggled himself up. However he wasn’t prepared for the next.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?” Maxine thundered as landed a tight slap on Theseus’ cheek, “who stands in the middle of a forest and screams at someone who is about is fire an arrow--”

“It was just an arrow though—I would have stopped it with my wand--”

“Right... you would. Have you ever wondered why you are standing like a soaked imbecile?”

Theseus didn’t notice until now. Suddenly he looked around him: the soil the trees looked like they had been hit by a massive flood. He then looked at Maxine, completely soaked and dishavaled who  was pacing up and down with the great bow tied at her back

“Merlin’s beard, I could have killed you—and lord knows how much blood I have on my hand already”

“Maxine...” Theseus stopped her with a disapproving frown, as if he wasn’t really surprised with her self-guilty, only very concerned that she was still investing in it.

“Why are you here...?” Maxine asked with a tone of surprise, as if his presence didn’t register in her mind earlier.

“I came here...” Theseus stopped in his words, chewing and tasting it. “--to take you home.” Theseus asserted with his head held high and lack of confidence in his voice.

Maxine’s brows gathered in a frown, as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying. Her earlier contemplation starkly clashed with Theseus’ upright confession.

“is that because I asked you to wait for me?”

Theseus stopped for a while, his face reddened and hsi brows frowned as if she had said something offensive, “why does everything have to be about you... everything I do has to be about you isn’t it? How spoiled could you be—no, no, how dense could you be to understand that something does not happen because you ask people to tell so--” he said heatedly. And with natural phenomenon of contagious affect, it caught on Maxine too.

“Why are you being such a prick? I just asked a question—a mere question and you just going around like a--”

“It’s not fair!” Theseus screamed on the top of his lungs, “it’s not fair how you push into my boundaries making a complete fool out of me; it’s not fair how I try to be someone else and do things that I never did for anyone—do you know, I am scared to death to sea and I spend a FREAKING WEEK IN IT JUST SO--”

Maxine could not find the reason behind Theseus’ anger and irritation; as far as she knew him, he was one of the most patient person she had ever seen. Otherwise he wouldn’t have put up with her despite her track records of playing the trickster to get what she wants. He paced and fumed in the muddy soil of the forest as Maxine watched him with a stupefied expression.

“Just so?” she asked tentatively.

She could see a slight change of expression in his face, the frowns unknotting and the lines smoothing. His blue eyes looking straight towards her, “Maxine... I was annoyed and angry when you joined Newt without the ministry notice. I was jealous like a stupid child when I saw you dancing with my brother at Yule Party, I was hopeless when I saw you kissing him at the church—but I never realised what was the reason I felt those emotions towards you--” he came closer to her, speaking with his fullest sincerity, “can you forgive me?”

“No...” Maxine said firmly, “No... It is I who must ask forgiveness...” Maxine stepped two steps closer towards Theseus and grabbed him by the shoulders, “I had been so mean towards you—I had been so jealous when you started with Leta—I shouldn’t have done that. Furthermore, I hurt you the most when you needed me. You trusted me and I hurt you and that’s why all those emotions had been generating in your heart. Truth is, now I realise—I refused you in anger and I sought after Newt when my heart was hungry, I wasn’t in my rational self and I almost ruined three lives—of course I forgive you Theseus, but in return I ask for yours--”

“Tell me...” Theseus’s face darkened like a clouded midday sun, “are you still in love with Newt?”

“Yes, I am... ” Maxine looked upwards, “however there is no expectations in that. I went to him in a distraught mind—I am grateful to him because he looked inside my heart and knew what I was running away from. I caused him pain and his companionship showed me where I was supposed to be--”

“Where were you supposed to be?” Theseus asked with eagerness in his voice, in reply he got Maxine’s meaningful silence.Theseus used this pregnant pause and pulled out the emerald box out of his breast pocket and knelt on the muddy ground to put the ring in Maxine’s fingers. Maxine inspected the ring in the little light she got inside the forest and said with an amused annoyance.

“This is what you get for me, Roses and Filigree?” Maxine replied sarcastically.

“Look closer...” Theseus said with a mysterious smile.

As Maxine looked closer the outer layers of rose-gold melted away and vanished. Instead of the soft rose-gold design, a beautiful black gold baroque ring held a miniature crown; the crown was actually a scepter of a fiery opal that looked like a miniature sunset.

“For the dark and fiery soul—for the trickster and perfection of my life” Theseus said softly, admiring Maxine’s expression.

“So, Maxine Adrienne Odessa Valois--”

“I hate when you take my full name--”

“—stop interrupting me, you minx—“ Theseus rebuked her with a paradoxical smile, “so, Maxine Adrienne Odessa Valois, I would like to ask you, if you are willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” he asked with a deep voice.

Maxine paused for a bit. Her eyes glistened with moisture and her usual Devil’s Attorney crooked smile graced her wet lips, “are you, Mr Theseus Scamander willing to bear my wickedness for the rest of your life?”

“—you are suppose to answer in ‘yes’ or ‘no’” Theseus said with irritability, but his face said he felt otherwise.

“Trust me; it is a great responsibility—so, are you?” Maxine repeated.

“—yes!”

“Then yes... I shall be willing to do the same!”

The forest suddenly filled with claps and laughter. They both looked around and saw the entire sanctuary was applauding to them, as if they were waiting for this to happen. Suddenly out of the crowd the old familiar face peeked through the crowd, Maxine knew her—she was Professor Nishimori. Her face could not be seen from Theseus’ side, as if she was a phantom who appeared only before Maxine. Her black eyes streaming in a motherly joy as she applauded with the rest. Through her tears, Maxine felt as if her own mother was standing behind her whispering that she was proud of her own daughter. Her eyes veered towards Theseus, whose eyes too was streaming with joy. There was a pharse in Japanese community she heard for many times, but never understood its full meaning. Now today, as she stands realising that there was more than the shame, jealousy, rejection and fear she recieved in her life.

Umarete Hajimeta

She was reborn.

...

“Merlin’s beard if I don’t have a firewhisky within three seconds I am going to be petrified--” Theseus murmured as Newt fixed his bow tie, very patiently in their room in the Family home in Scotland. The merry morning rays of spring crept in with the roaring sound of sea through the east window.

“Isn’t the bride be the nervous one?” Newt asked as he straightened up and Theseus fixed his tie with an irritable frown. Newt smiled on his own to see his brother on his toes, struggling to cope with the gravity of the situation.

“—nervous? She? The dead shall rise from the grave just to see her flinch a little—Merlin knows what I have put myself through.” Theseus exasperated. Newt wasn’t particularly impressed with the situation, he gravely commented “—Theseus I thought you were looking forward to marry her--”

“—who said I don’t want to marry her...” Theseus interrupted Newt irritably and plopped on the ottoman to put on his silk socks, “—I am out of the world with happiness—but the problem is not her... it’s her family. As long as she was solo, everything was fine, but as soon as her family made up with her... boom... Saint Chappell all over again.” Theseus pulled his socks so hard that the elastic snapped audibly and painfully, “I am scared to death for their expectations—Newt, you don’t understand, I have met her father and all the time I felt like the worst piece of crap in front of his influence and extravagance—they have booked the Drum Castle.... THE Drum Castle for the wedding--”

The train of rant was interrupted with a warning notice by Tina, who huddled inside in a bright turmeric flapper dress and a myrtle bouquet.

“Five minutes...” Tina huffed as she totted, “They have send a Rolls Royce... a flying one”

Tina hadn’t looked anywhere until now, and when she looked at Theseus tying the strings of shoes through his calves. Before leaving an unexpected snigger left her lips.

“IT’S A KILT....” a desperate scream of Theseus left a trail behind her.

The people on Groom’s side, including Theseus, his best man Newt, Mother of Groom Mrs. Bronte Scamander and finally Tina boarded the car nervously. The Royce flew across the Caledonian ranges of beautiful glen until it landed at the front of the castle. Tina huddled through her heels to Maxine because it was a tradition of Scamander family that the bride is to be dressed by the sister of the groom, since the Scamander had no girl sibling, the immediate choice was Tina, and she was soon to be sister-in-law too, if the circumstances permitted. She may have been difficult in some cases in the past, but she had learned that even the worst of the people can change.

“Oh... Ma chere, you have arrived...” Marguerite was standing at the bottom of the tower, dressed in Mauve bell-epoch dress and tilted pillbox hat—Tina had a mini-heart attack at how well this woman looked, the flaming red hair arranged in beautiful chignon and her entire figure exuded power and elegance. But she had to pay attention to her words, “thank Merlin... would you be glad to ‘elp Maxine to add some final touches?”

Tina didn’t know that such mellow and polite lady can hold so much power in her soft voice. She didn’t know if she even had to decline her.

“Of course Madame...”

They apparated at the top of the tower with a crack, Svetlana who was at Maxine’s service opened the door to reveal the bride sitting upright near the ornate Victorian mirror.

“You look beautiful Maxine...” Tina admired Maxine with a tinge of envy as she beheld her. Maxine had rose from her former seat. The simple satin wedding gown adorned her tall figure gracefully and it added the space to the flowers and jewels to shine. Tina, for a moment compared her soft and fluid look with that of the winter wedding in Paris. This Maxine didn’t look like Ice queen with blood lips and decked in diamond—she looked like a bride.

Tina, with fullness in her heart, added red lacquer in her lips, added the baby’s breath and myrtle flower crown at the back of her perfectly pinned curls. After huffing and puffing over her already finished near perfect look, Tina finally stepped down.

“How do I look?” Maxine looked at Tina through the mirror, a nervous tone disturbed her natural cockiness of voice. Tina smiled internally, even the most confident gets nervous.

“the most beautiful bride I have ever seen” her reaction evoked a stray tear in Svetlana’s light blue eyes.

As Newt and Theseus settled near the isle, Theseus’s nervousness pumped through the ceiling. He had a sip of firewhiskey already, but it did nothing—he was marrying a Duchess for Merlin’s sake. He looked around the wedding hall, all the important figures of European ministry were there, looking at Theseus’ way, sitting at the most elegantly dressed hall. The wedding hall somehow transformed from a stony room to a Baroque palace—golden filigreed chandeliers glowed against rose-motived pink walls, he felt like he was an insignificant part of a French painting. Newt could see the tumultuous waves of inferiority and nervousness on his brother’s face. He softly grabbed him by the shoulder.

“—‘Seus, she is their only daughter—she has no blood relatives left in the world, they are trying their best to make up to it all.”

“—Newt, I am not sure if I can keep her happy or not...”

“I believe in you...”

Theseus looked at his brother with widened eyes, his little brother hid again under the unkempt strawberry blond bangs, but the strength he channeled through his softness made Theseus extremely proud of his younger brother.

Maxine fidgeted behind the great Cypress door of the wedding hall. The door will open at anytime soon. In the absence of father, she will walk alone and her bridesmaids Tina and Svetlana will follow.  

The door swung open and the entire hall blazed with a very non traditional music for a bridal march. Maxine knew it was the choice of her family, who would have opted for some ecclesiastical pieces by Vivaldi, Monteverdi or Faure like her wedding; Arrival of the Queen of Sheba was an unusual choice for a bridal march. Maxine slightly leaned back before walk towards Tina to ask who was the one to pick the music.

“It was Theseus...” Tina said with a smile.

Maxine’s lips curved into a full, genuine smile as she stepped forward with light feet. Her eyes veering towards her wedding guests, who were giving her a standing ovation. She saw Charlemagne, Lucian Carr and entire Auror department looking at her; at her right she saw Bongartz and the other wizards from Romanian dragon reserve smiling at her way; a little further stood her professors of Durmstrang and Hogwarts. Dumbledore looked handsome in his tweed suit, accompanying Mcgonagall and Nishimori sensei in a petal pink Silk kimono and really elaborate hairdo. Everyone important in her life gathered under one roof to witness the one thing she needed most in her life.

“Dearly beloved we’ve gathered here to witness the holy union of Theseus Delian Chrysostomus Scamander and Lady Maxine Adrienne Odessa Valois--”

“So... ” Maxine discreetly whispered, “Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, huh! Nice touch, bit Baroque and old, but classy—you know your Handel”

“I had to resort to it, because Handel didn’t write anything for The Duchess of Croy...”

“Chrysostomus...’golden mouth’, how come I never heard that name before?—”

“Because I hate it... and the person after I was named...”

“Who?”

“My great uncle, Chrysostomus Scamander—he gave that name to himself once he became a Seer; none of his prediction ever came true... including me marrying an ugly wealthy widow--”

“—I don’t know whether I should slap you in the face or the old geezer who dared to call me ugly--”

Theseus could not understand what she was talking about until he realise what he has said, “—Oh... I am so sorry, Maxine I didn’t mean that” he whispered under his breath.

“Concentarte Mr. Scamander, we are at a ceremony” Maxine said with a forced deadpan face, painfully suppressing a laughter.

“Why you always put me in an embarrasing position and don’t let me apologise?”

“First of all, it is not my fault that you have no brakes on your mouth and secondly when someone ignores someone’s embarrasment it means that they have already let it go--”

Theseus stopped for a while, so that is what she has been doing all along? All the scolding and anger outburst he had with her at the later years, the ones for which he tried to apologise and she ignored it—that is what she was doing? Silently forgiving him? He felt a rush of gratitude towards her and a pang of guilt in his heart. But as he looked at his left, he could see the radiance of Maxine’s face even under her veil—nothing bothered her anymore. Before she looked like a shiny outer skin masking darkness, but now she looked like something was cleansed from her heart, a weight she had carried all her life was lifted.

While they conversed with each other, the sermon was mostly complete, they both now looked at the Cardinal who had a look in his eyes that he heard everything, but chose to ignore it.

“Do you, Theseus Delian Chrysostomus Scamander take Lady Maxine Adrienne Odessa Valois as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do...” Theseus confessed.

“And do you, Lady Maxine Adrienne Odessa Valois abdicate your position as the Duchess of Croy and take Theseus Delian Chrysostomus Scamander as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do...” with her confession the entire hall stood up to applaude.

“Or do I?” Maxine turned towards the audience with her crooked smile and witnessed the flabbergasted audiences abruptly stopped in their standing ovation.

She savoured the audience’s bafflement. Newt almost slipped from his pedestal, the pastor at the side nearly dropped the wine glass and Theseus looked like he was about to have a breakdown. In the midst of the nearly cruel words, she broke out into a heart-lightening laughter, pointing a finger at Theseus like a small child.

“Come here you minx--” Theseus pulled her by the face to kiss her.

Before Maxine closed her eyes completely immersing herself fully, from the corner of the eyes she saw Newt hiding beneath his unkempt bangs, squeezing his temple with his fingers for a brief moment. Perhaps he saw that the bride was looking at him, and he did one of the rarest things he ever did. He looked straight at Maxine’s eyes with tears streaming down his face.

The tears that said so many things he wanted to say.

--

Nostoi: a Greek word taken from Odyssey which means “Homecoming”. You might have noticed that one of Maxine’s name is “Odessa”, which is a female version of “Odysseus”. The entire story of Assistant is Maxine’s journey from returning “home” or to people whom she was meant to be. It is not only about Theseus or their “skinny love”, but also to her own family who finally accepted her, and Newt. She may not have the relationship she wanted with Newt, but without him her “homecoming” would have been impossible.

    It is Theseus’ homecoming as well. He lost hope on Maxine, terming her unattainable, which caused a rift between them and Maxine’s wandering. When he finally came to terms with his heart and mind he could finally pick up the courage to pursue what he had wanted for so long. Theseus too, sought for Maxine, like Odysseus’ son Telemachus went to Voyage to look for his father. (There is another myth I have based on Maxine and Theseus’ story, I will later reveal it it a post as an addendum)

Yukata: The easy version of traditional Kimono, worn mainly informally and inside the household.

Juban top and Hakama pants: mainly worn by archers and samurai, and is still worn as ceremonial outfit in Japan.

Yume or Japanese Longbow: see above picture

Drum Castle:  Drum Castle is a castle near Drumoak in Aberdeenshire, Scotland. For centuries it was the seat of the chief of Clan Irvine. The place-name Drum is derived from Gaelic druim, 'ridge'. Maxine’s family arranged something that would be the last splendor for Maxine before she abdicates. They chose it with the mutual agreement of the Scamanders because the owner of the Drum Castle, the Irwins, were the starting line of the Scamanders. The Scamanders are descended from a Muggleborn Witch named Maud Irwin.

Also I wanted their wedding to be on Scotland to give Maxine a closer; she was wed to Theseus on the same soil where her mother was born. Although Aberdeen and Edinburgh are far apart, but they are both on the west coast of Scotland

Arrival of the Queen of Sheba:  A piece written by  George Frideric Handel from his Opera Solomon. Although it is a popular choice for bridal march today, but it was certainly not in 1920′s. The fast violin conveys the excitement of the mob to see the queen, and the wind instrument convey the welcoming bugle of the entrance of the Queen. Theseus chose this to convey his excitement to marry Maxine who was an Aristocratic Witch. It is also a Baroque or 17th Century piece, a time which was most valued by Maxine’s family (it wasn’t intended by Theseus, just a coincidence). 

Listen to this piece : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TGKJ9MgCOQ

Delian : a name of Apollo who was born in the city of Delios. Notice, how Newt had ‘Artemis’ in his name, so I thought why not give Theseus’s middle names a bit Apollo-centric, but Apollo seemed way too obvious, so I chose this name.

Chrysostomus: Greek for ‘Golden Mouth’ or someone whose speech is always true (an oracle). Apollo is also God of Soothsaying and Oracle.

Thank you for all the support you gave me. 

#the assistant #fbawtft #crimes of grindelwald #theseus x oc #theseus scamander x oc #romantic ending #happy ending #wedding #coming all togather #theseus x oc finale

[runswithwolvesx]

“ i remember our first kiss. ”

kissy sentence starters || no longer accepting!

Her statement captured Stiles’ attention rather instantly, amber eyes flicking up from the television to the blonde who now stood before him. Stiles had invited Caroline over for a movie marathon and the buttery scent of freshly popped popcorn had followed her to the sofa, the bowl in her hand the only thing he could focus on for a moment. Why was Caroline bringing this up? They had talked about it before, once. The blonde had admitted she didn’t feel the same, didn’t return the romantic feelings Stiles clearly felt within his core for her. At the end of the day, Stiles had decided their friendship was far too important to be compromised. “Do you want to talk about it?” He wondered, eyes then fluttering from the white bowl to her face, and the expression she wore spoke volumes to Stiles.

There was a vivid frown there, and he watched, as if things were in slow motion, as Caroline plopped the bowl onto the coffee table and took a seat right next to him on the sofa. The last thing Stiles wanted was Caroline to feel uncomfortable. “We don’t have to, you know? I’m okay with just being friends.” He answered, quite honestly, a truthfulness ringing in his voice. The woman was quick to shrug, hasty to shake her head and start to speak. However, her inner struggle must have been heavy because it was clear as day on her face, in her cerulean orbs. Stiles just allowed her to rant, allowed Caroline to express how she felt, how she didn’t want anything between them to be different. Again, Stiles was facing rejection, but he sucked it up, knew that it was possibly for the better.

“Hey,” Stiles’ voice fell gingerly, a hand finding her shoulder in an affectionate manner. He tended to be very touchy around the blonde, always instinctively reaching for her when necessary. “It’s okay. I’m fine, Caroline.” That was a blatant lie. Because whenever he thought about it, his heart ached, yearned for something, for someone he couldn’t have. And then other thoughts would plague his mind. What if she eventually fell in love with someone? What if he had to watch her find happiness with another man? Could he have even stomached that? Could he still remain her friend if that were a reality? Still, his amber orbs remained on her beryl eyes, trying to convey that he understood her completely.

Suddenly, he was feeling the heaviness of his heart and Stiles knew he couldn’t possibly sit through a movie marathon with all the ache weighing on him. “Maybe we should do this another night.” The suggestion fell as his shoulders deflated, his chest falling with his exhale. Removing his hand from her frame, he watched Caroline nod in agreement, rise from the sofa and head towards the exit. Stiles rose himself, surrendering to his feelings as he began to slink away towards his bedroom. All he wanted to do at this point was shut his eyes, turn his mind off, fall asleep and hope he’d awake with less of a yearning, less of a nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him that he wasn’t ever going to be the guy Caroline deserved in her life. Oh, how he wished she’d returned the feelings, that she felt them. But, he couldn’t change that and as soon as he came to terms with it, the better they were both off for it.

The clicking of the front door opening hit his ears, and Stiles placed a flat palm on the frame of his bedroom door, hazy eyes closing tightly, lips pressed together thinly in sadness. He needed the support the frame provided because even his legs felt weak, his head spinning with reasons as to why they belonged together, why they deserved a shot at something more. However, there was also a very real part of Stiles that worried if they acted on it, if something came of it and things didn’t work out in the end, he could lose Caroline for good. Maybe it was better this way, maybe it was supposed to be this way. Hadn’t she once told him that friends shouldn’t kiss each other? Guilt invaded his veins at the memory, at the look on her face when she’d said it. 

And that’s when Stiles waited, patiently standing there and breathing in and out at a steady pace, just allowing her to leave, for the door to shut at any second. Footsteps never sounded and the familiar door creak never came. Even though his eyes remained snapped shut, Stiles’ brows knitted together, brow crinkling with discomfort. Why wasn’t she leaving? Hadn’t they agreed to watch movies another night? When both of them weren’t dealing with the tension between themselves? Fingertips rapped against the wood, beating erratically, his ears honing in on the drumming sound. He tried his best to focus on it but the fact that her footsteps never sounded, that the door never shut told him to turn around. Every fiber of his body screamed to spin, to check. Hell, Caroline could’ve used her enhanced speed and he wouldn’t have heard a damn thing.

Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and though he hesitated, Stiles spun on his heel, prying his eyes open. That’s when he saw her, a piercing stare meeting his heavy orbs. Eyelids were somewhat droopy, his face twisted with agony. But the strange thing? Caroline’s expression mirrored everything Stiles felt and it shook his bones, urging him to move, to console the woman he’d fallen so deeply in love with. Battling with his inner thoughts, Mieczyslaw needed to make a decision: keep silent and let it devour him alive or make one last attempt at conveying to Caroline how much he loved her, how he’d move mountains for her. The television playing softly was all that hit his ears now, neither of the pair speaking a word but simply peering at each other across the vast distance.

Kicking himself into gear, his legs began to move on their own accord and Stiles can see Caroline’s expression twist, her head tilt to the side gently though her eyes never strayed from his own. Each inch closer to her, his heart quickened, beating so frantically, he felt it may implode. Every move he made was intentional, slow yet unfaltering and Caroline didn’t budge, didn’t even try to move or stop him from shuffling across the room. There’s a thick air now encompassing the pair as the space between them became smaller and smaller, until eventually, Stiles was standing right in front of her, as he had so many times over the years.

Thick brows elevate on Stiles’ face, a vibrant warmth now cascading across his features as he just gazed at Caroline with nothing but adoration. He can decipher the worry on her face, yet her eyes shone with a need, a desire blazing so brightly, even Stiles didn’t know quite what to do with it. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave things like this between them. He didn’t want to compromise the safety net of their friendship but he also was all too aware of what he wanted, what he craved for. A solitary tear dripped off her eyes then and Stiles moved a hand towards her face, his thumb brushing it away, sliding against her skin in a way he’s never touched her before. Electrifying as the sensation was running up his arm, he knew they both needed some sort of answer and he didn’t speak, didn’t say a single word, allowing himself to finally lean in towards her face.

Nothing about this was similar to their first kiss. The worry of confessing his feelings to her had been long gone. Stiles’ eyes are attentive to Caroline’s, watching for any sign that the vampire wanted him to stop, to freeze in his movements. There’s no detection of dismissal on her face, no ounce of movement in her beryl orbs that told him otherwise. Noses finally bump, and Stiles swore he heard a breathy sigh escape the vampire then, his heart thumping even wilder than it had before, if that were at all possible. Ghosting his lips over hers, Mieczyslaw allowed them both to breathe each other in for a long moment, still giving Caroline ample opportunity to reject him once more. Again, she didn’t budge, she didn’t give him any sign that she was afraid of this, that she was ready to run far away. 

The lingering between them felt surreal, allowing him to drift off to a place of peace, of serenity. Stiles knew he needed to finish what he meant to do, yet hesitation swallowed him until he finally gathered enough courage to allow his lips to timidly brush Caroline’s. The brunette’s lips remained puckered a fraction but as he was ready to pull away, he felt the weight of one of her hands claim his arm. Suddenly, Caroline’s fingertips travel up the length of his bare arm, eliciting goosebumps, causing a shiver to slide down his spine. Before Stiles could process it, her arms loop around his neck and peach lips meld into Caroline’s more passionately, more longingly. Delight pumped through his blood, enjoyment and happiness all taking full hold of Stiles now. Bringing a hand to her face, he cupped one of her cheeks, fingertips traveling against her silky skin, gliding effortlessly while they only parted from the kiss for seconds so he could inhale deeply. Their lips meet time and time again, his tongue sliding under her upper lip, coaxing the vampire into a deeper kiss.

@carebearxsunshine

#carebearxsunshine #tw; long post #answered; memes #stiles: loves her to death but respects her #also stiles: cannot bear the thought of another man being with her #stiles too: shit she can't look at me like THAT #stiles finally: i love you to the moon and back #<3 #otp; you are the embodiment of sunshine #also this got super long #but i'm not sorry because i love them so damn much.

[romancatholicreflections]

6th March >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18 for Ash Wednesday: ‘Your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you’.

Ash Wednesday

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 6:1-6,16-18

Your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Be careful not to parade your good deeds before men to attract their notice; by doing this you will lose all reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give alms, do not have it trumpeted before you; this is what the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win men’s admiration. I tell you solemnly, they have had their reward. But when you give alms, your left hand must not know what your right is doing; your almsgiving must be secret, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.

‘And when you pray, do not imitate the hypocrites: they love to say their prayers standing up in the synagogues and at the street corners for people to see them; I tell you solemnly, they have had their reward. But when you pray, go to your private room and, when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in that secret place, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.

‘When you fast do not put on a gloomy look as the hypocrites do: they pull long faces to let men know they are fasting. I tell you solemnly, they have had their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that no one will know you are fasting except your Father who sees all that is done in secret; and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.’

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

Your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

“When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

“When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites. They neglect their appearance, so that they may appear to others to be fasting. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting, except to your Father who is hidden. And your Father who sees what is hidden will repay you.”

Reflections (7)

(i) Ash Wednesday

Almsgiving, prayer and fasting, which Jesus comments on in today’s gospel reading, have been described as the three pillars of Lent. They are practices that are deeply rooted in the Jewish tradition. Jesus affirms their value in today’s gospel reading, but he warns against engaging in these practices in a way that draws attention to ourselves. What seems like something virtuous can be very self-serving in reality. The gospels show that Jesus himself fasted, prayed and engaged in various forms of almsgiving or self-giving service of others. Of the three practices, fasting can seem the most negative. Fasting is a saying ‘no’ to something. Prayer is a saying ‘yes’ to God, to the Lord. Almsgiving is a saying ‘yes’ to others and, for us believers, a saying ‘yes’ to the Lord present in others. Yet, there is nothing essentially negative about fasting or self-denial. If it is a saying ‘no’ to something, that ‘no’ is always in the service of our saying a more generous ‘yes’ to the Lord in prayer and to others in almsgiving. Pope Francis has said the following about fasting or self-denial, ‘Lent is a fitting time for self-denial; we would do well to ask ourselves what we can give up in order to help and enrich others by our poverty. Let us not forget that real poverty hurts; no self-denial is real without this dimension of penance’. It is clear from what Pope Francis says that he sees self-denial or fasting as in the service of our helping and enriching others, or what we might call almsgiving. Fasting also serves our prayer, as Jesus showed by his forty days in the wilderness. There is always that other-centred dimension to our fasting and self-denial, whether the other is God directly as in prayer or God present in others as in almsgiving. Lent is a time to reflect on how we might take up these three practices of almsgiving, prayer and fasting, so as to grow more fully into our baptismal calling. We take ashes on this Ash Wednesday as a sign of our desire, our commitment, to grow in our response to the Lord’s calling by means of these three great Lenten pillars.

And/Or

(ii)  Ash Wednesday

We often think of Lent as a time when we do something worthwhile to grow in our relationship with the Lord. It is often thought of as a time when we make more of an effort in the area of living our faith. We might think in terms of the three practices that Jesus mentions in the gospel reading, prayer, fasting and almsgiving. We decide to pray a little more or we decide to fast from something that we like or that we are too attached to, or we resolve to give more generously to others out of our resources and gifts. This is a very valid way of looking at Lent. As well as thinking of Lent as a time when we do something worthwhile for the Lord, we could also think of Lent as a time when we allow the Lord to do something worthwhile for us. Lent is as much about God’s work for us as about our work for God. I am struck by that word of Saint Paul in today’s second reading, ‘we beg you once again not to neglect the grace of God that you have received’. Paul is reminding us that God has already graced us. He has already been at work in our lives, and he continues to do his work in our lives. Lent could be understood as a time when we give God more space to do God’s good work in our lives. The goal of our lives as Christians is, in the words of Saint Paul in that reading, to become the goodness of God. This is predominantly God’s work in our lives. It is God’s work in our lives through his Son and the Holy Spirit that enables us to become the goodness of God. Writing to the church in Philippi, Paul says to them, ‘I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ’. God has begun a good work in our lives. That good work of God is always ongoing. It will be brought to completion when we become the goodness of God. Lent is a time when we allow God to do his good work in our lives more easily, more freely. During these weeks we try to co-operate more fully with the good work that God is always doing within us and among us.

And/Or

(iii) Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday could hardly make more visible and tangible the transience of things and our mortality. We start Lent in humility, close to the ground, close to our earthiness: remember you are dust and to dust you shall return. However, we do not gather on Ash Wednesday just to commemorate the transience of creation. The ashes used on Ash Wednesday are the residue of the celebration of Passion Sunday. Jesus died and was buried in a tomb, the place of decay and the place of dust. Yet he rose from the dead to new life. Our ultimate destiny is not dust and ashes but a sharing in the Lord’s risen life, becoming conformed to the image of God’s Son. As we journey towards that destiny we hear the call to grow more fully into the image of God’s Son, which is a call to turn away from sin, to repent. The ashes are a sign of our desire to do just that. The traditional practices of Lent put before us the essentials for growth into the image of God’s Son. There are all in the service of love, a greater love of God (prayer), a more generous love of neighbour (alms giving), and a truer love of ourselves (fasting). We recommit ourselves on Ash Wednesday to build our lives on those three loves, so that we may more fully become all that God is calling us to be.

And/Or

(iv) Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday could hardly make more visible and tangible the transience of things and our own mortality. We start Lent with ashes on our forehead, in humility, close to the ground, close to our earthiness, acknowledging that our ultimate destiny is beyond this earthly life, and thereby recognizing, by means of these ashes, that we are not yet all that the Lord wants us to be. The opening call of the first reading this evening, the first reading of Lent, expresses the call of Lent, ‘Come back to me with all your heart’. It is a call to keep returning to the Lord, to keep journeying towards the Lord. We can come back to the Lord with great confidence because again in the words of that first reading, the Lord ‘is all tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in graciousness’. As we return towards the Lord, he comes more than half-way to meet us. Indeed, his grace draws us to himself, if we are open to it. In this evening’s second reading Saint Paul calls upon us not to ‘neglect the grace of God that you have received’. The Lord is already at work in our lives through the Holy Spirit. Our calling is to yield to that work of the Lord deep within us and in so doing to draw closer to the Lord. The ashes that we receive on our forehead today are a sign of our desire to grow in our relationship with the Lord who so loved us that he laid down his life for us.

And/Or

(v) Ash Wednesday

The traditional practices of Lent that we heard about in the gospel reading, prayer, fasting and almsgiving put before us three traditional ways of growing in our relationship with the Lord. They are three pathways that help us to turn more fully towards him. They are really one pathway with three layers, because prayer, fasting and almsgiving are so interconnected. We often think of fasting as giving up certain foods and drink. More broadly, however, fasting is a saying ‘no’ to whatever may be an obstacle to our growing in our relationship with the Lord; it is a saying ‘no’ to any form of self-centredness. That ‘no’ is always in the service of a greater ‘yes’, a ‘yes’ to the Lord, which then finds expression in prayer, and a ‘yes’ to others, to the Lord present in others, which finds expression in ‘almsgiving’, a giving of ourselves in service to others. In and through these three practices that Jesus puts before us in the gospel reading we respond to the opening call of the first reading, ‘Come back to me with all your heart’. The church gives us the forty days of Lent to respond to that call of the Lord; we are setting out on this forty day journey not as isolated individuals but together, as a church. This journey of Lent will bring us to the wonderful feast of Easter. Hopefully, we will have lived Lent in such a way that when Easter Sunday comes, we will be ready to renew our Baptismal promises from our heart. Just as for our catechumens Lent is an intense period of preparation for their baptism at Easter, so for all of us, the baptized, it is a period when we prepare ourselves to recommit to our baptism at Easter.

And/Or

(vi) Ash Wednesday

The first line of the first reading for the season of Lent is in the form of an invitation from God. There it is at the beginning of today’s first reading, ‘Come back to me with all your heart, fasting, weeping, mourning… turn to the Lord your God again, for he is all tenderness and compassion’. We are hearing there the fundamental call of Lent. The call involves firstly a recognition that we are sinners, that in various ways we have turned away from God. It also involves a recognition that the God we have turned away from is a God of tenderness and compassion who longs for our return. Saint Paul in today’s second reading goes further and reminds us that the God from whom we have turned away has sought us out and continues to seek us out in the person of his Son Jesus. ‘For our sake, God make the sinless one into sin, so that in him we might become the goodness of God’. What a powerful statement that is! God sent his Son to become like us so that we might become like him. God in his Son journeyed towards our sinful condition so that we might journey towards God’s goodness. The ashes that we wear on this day tell the world that we are sinners. Yet, those ashes we received are in the shape of a cross, which proclaims that we believe in a God whose love is stronger than our sin. As Paul declares in his letter to the Romans, ‘God demonstrates his love for us, in that while we still were sinners, Christ died for us’. The three practices of almsgiving, prayer and fasting that Jesus speaks about in the gospel reading are three traditional ways of responding to God’s love for us in Christ, three ways of journeying towards God who has journeyed towards us. They are three ways of responding to that call of God at the beginning of the first reading, ‘Come back to me with all your heart’. These three Lenten practices are closely interlinked. Fasting is in the service of prayer and almsgiving. We die to ourselves so as to live more fully towards God and our fellow human being.

And/Or

(vii) Ash Wednesday

In a few moments, we will all come forward to receive some ashes on our foreheads and, as we do so, we will hear the words, ‘Repent and believe in the gospel’. It is the beginning of Lent. It is a seven-week period which ends with the Easter Triduum, Holy Thursday evening to Easter Sunday. It is a sombre season within the church’s year. The celebrant at Mass wears purple vestments instead of green or white. No flowers will appear to beautify our altar. At Mass on Sunday there will be no ‘Glory to God in the highest’ after the penitential rite. There is a general toning down. In musical terms, we are in a minor key. Lent is a season when the whole community of believers, the church, is invited to go on a kind of retreat. It is not a retreat in the normal sense of going off to a retreat house for a period of time. Very few are in a position to do that. It is more of a retreat in the midst of life. It is a time to come back to the Lord with all our heart, in the opening words of today’s first reading from the prophet Joel. As Joel reminds us in that reading, the Lord to whom we are invited to come back is one who is all tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in graciousness. It is a time to be reconciled to God in the words of Paul in the second reading, so that we can become what Paul calls in that reading‘the goodness of God’. This coming back to the Lord with all our heart will involve in some shape or form the three traditional Jewish practises which Jesus endorses in the gospel reading, almsgiving, prayer and fasting. Our coming back to the Lord will mean a renewed turning to him in prayer, a deepening of our prayer life. It will entail a form of fasting, of abstaining, from whatever it is that is pulling us away from the Lord. Our turning towards the Lord will show itself in some form of almsgiving, a more generous way of life towards others, a readiness to give out of what has been given to us. This is the journey on which we are being invited to set out together as we begin Lent. Our receiving of ashes proclaims our desire to enter into this journey with a willingness of heart and spirit.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: [email protected] or  [email protected]

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin

[astereaholloway]

- ̗̀ * ( sophie turner + cisfemale + she/her ) have you seen ( aster holloway ) walking around campus ? they are a ( twenty-one ) year old, studying ( botany + entomology ). we hear they are in ( theta sigma eta ), and can be ( opinionated & daunting ), maybe it’s because they are an ( aries ). they sort of remind us of ( abandoned greenhouses, spinning bike wheels , iridescent pocket knives ), maybe we can find out more ! *  ̖́-  + habitat

i yeet’d holliday for this child o’ mine pls love her bc i love her sm i’ll prolly change her fc to sophie turner as soon as i get tired of cropping gifs of saoirse but enjoy her face for now sksksk. like this n i’ll come to u!!

tw: fire, death, cancer, etc. etc.

gen. info

full name: aster holloway

nickname(s): n/a, give her one n she’ll cut you probably

b.o.d. - april 1st.

label(s): the hellcat, the minefield, the connard, etc. etc.

height: probably like 5′7″ or 5′8″ tbh

hometown: inglewood, california

sexuality: chaotic. lesbian.

bio. info

hasn’t had the most......stable, life

born to dahlia verbeck, a botanist, wildlife conservationist, and volunteer firefighter whose presence was very well known in south california’s environmental scene

to keep a long story short, she married maverick holloway; a sleazy low-rank cop with a smoking problem and an obnoxious personality when she was 19. he was nearly twice her age. nobody knows why she married him, or why she tolerated him

the relationship was by no means abusive, but it was lackluster

this led to dahlia having a one night stand, and baba boom baba bing, aster was conceived

 the only one who knew that the child wasn’t maverick’s was dahlia’s twin brother, donovan, whose career was p much the exact same as dahlia’s

they were basically both mad scientists; when dahlia started slacking because of her pregnancy, donovan would kick it up

like ykno the twin scientists in bioshock infinite ?? that them like they were eerily alike, always finishing each other’s sentences. nightmare fuel.

the only difference was that donovan was considerably less intense than dahlia b/c dahlia was the kinda lass who would set fire to your car

anywAYs so aster was born and everything was fine n dandy until she got a lil older and it suddenly became clear that this child was absolutely not maverick’s at all because they looked. nothing alike. like u know when u can just tell ?? yeah. yeah u could tell

maverick left dahlia afterwards and it was essentially up to her to raise aster alone. donovan had his own wife and kid to take care of and sort of backed down from his career to do so. house dads ftw

aster grew up knowing her dad as some ‘deadbeat no good’ simply bc dahlia was bitter

also grew up as the kid who would hold worms over another kid’s face and taunt them w/ it. so like, playground bully. that was aster. she’s not ashamed of it

she was often left on her own to do her own kinda shit b/c her mom was always busy out in nature n’ shit but aster never minded; loved her mom a Lot

aster’s life changed when she was nine

her mother had been doing research out in the ~wilderness~ with donovan, after months of convincing him of doing this one last project with her~ when the wildfires started

it spread so fast, and they were already too far away from the road

it took them two months to confirm that the twins were dead

rather than leave aster to maverick, elaine--donovan’s wife--took her under her wing and moved across the country to boston alongside myra, her daughter

elaine always held a resentment towards aster because of her mother, but never did anything about it--it was just always, sorta, implied ?

but myra and aster got along swimmingly despite being polar opposites

aster was p much a feral child, and myra had been receiving etiquette lessons since birth, practically--like, literally

elaine put them in the same hobbies but aster always found ways to be wildly different from the ~standard~

myra learned cello and flute, aster started up on bass and drums (breaking both instruments, repeatedly, for many years)

elaine forced dance onto the both of them, and whilst they both excelled at ballet--aster switched over to a more free-flowing dance as soon as she was able to

(that and when elaine tried to put aster in sports instead of dance--figuring her fiery nature would be put to good use--aster managed to get kicked off of every single team of every single sport she tried b/c of her aggression. theyve had to fight a few lawsuits after aster’s broken a number of noses and sporting equipments)

myra was learning two languages, aster? dyslexic and could barely read english as it was; science made sense to her, however. plants? especially.

people confused myra and aster for twins nearly all the damn time, despite only being cousins, they were so alike and yet so opposite

that was, of course, until they got into a nasty spat when they were seventeen

it was something about dead parents and resentments and yadda yadda; it didn’t end well

aster wound up running away......all the way back to los angeles.

n i mean like......homegirl literally managed to run away across the gd country w/o getting caught or murdered

by the time she arrived in los angeles her aunt was sort of like ‘fuck it ur almost 18′ b/c....aster was nearly 18 by the time she arrived in the city, and elaine contacted maverick who in which found aster

aster did not want to go with him, after hearing stories about him just being no-good

but at that point, maverick was one of los angeles’ head detectives with a beautiful apartment and a beautiful wife and a beautiful dog and just kind of living his best life ?? after dahlia’s death he had really cleaned himself up y’kno

aster still kind of resented him but that was more of an inner thing

anyways she started attending ucla b/c her mother attended ucla, but her mother wasn’t a part of a sorority

it was one of those spur of the moment decisions and like nobody knows how aster ended up in theta sigma eta b/c she’s like a grumpy grandmother

but like she dun’ did that

we stan

a year ago maverick was diagnosed w cancer and has been in the hospital battling it ever since, aster is admittedly effected by it but like would never tell anybody ever

she doesn’t really tell anybody anything about her life, like, it’s a gd mystery

uuuuuuuuh aster works in a floral shop as a florist and grows her own shit ranging from fruits, vegetables, weed, shrooms, uh opium poppies yeah she Does that

it’s organic n fresh n shit like the devil works hard but aster works harder

she doesn’t really ~sell~ too often b/c she’s kinda selfish w her stash but it’s some top notch shit when she does 

no she doesn’t grow in the floral shop she’s not Stupid

aster inherited some of her mother’s properties Out There so she drives up almost everyday to take care of her plants

uuuhh fun fact, aster’s part of a dance like...company, kind of? but not really ? outside of ucla b/c she hates being involved in school shit besides habitat for humanity

personality

v v v harsh tbh

she won’t beat around the bush, usually...brutally honest, tbh?

like lbr she’s kind of a bitch too

just v offputting at first b/c she tells it like how it is n doesn’t rly care abt ur problems

doesn’t go around lookin’ for new friends but if you’re tight w her then she’ll probably die for u like she’s v loyal

but if u wrong her like even once she’ll drop u and treat u like right shit

she either feels intensely or nothing at all n that’s like. smth u have to deal w/

she’s v v v chaotic neutral, bordering evil--really works in her own favors

became a botanist after her mother bc she admired her mother more than anybody else

not saying that being vegan is a personality trait

but

aster’s a vegan

n just super hardcore into saving the earth n shit?

litter and she’ll break ur nose, basically

v into sustainable living n shit. rides her bicycle everywhere if she can, rly rarely drives, doesn’t do fast fashion at ALL

v v passionate, will argue w/ u until u admit she’s right even if she’s painfully wrong

like super stubborn, v opinionated, assumes the worst of u immediately

a lil cynical, but is more realist than pessimist

BIG FUCKING GAY

like so gay

she’s not Out-Out but she definitely doesn’t hide it, just doesn’t think it’s necessary to be like ‘im gay’ every 5 minutes n doesn’t think it’s necessary to let ppl kno she’s gay b/c shes just like....its my business

kinda bitch to flirt w dudes for fun in order to lead them on, get them to do things for her, etc. etc. just to disappoint in the end

this is big dumbass energy b/c that’s how u get stabbed

unless aster stabs u first

kinda gal who’ll key ur car if u piss her off during a class debate, but will also stick thumb tacks into ur wheels n shit too

like.....i said she’s spiteful, right? b/c she can b so spiteful

really, genuinely, has no regard for other ppl’s feelings

her music taste is either heavy rock or straight up like grimes/die antwoord there is no in between (prolly listens to billie eilish tho)

owns a pet tarantula n yes she has it in her dorm n Yes she brings it out n plays w it n shit her name is stevie nicks n u better respect her

big slut

would never cheat on u but also probably wouldn’t date u in the first place bc she’s scared of like....being in a relationship b/c all of hers are p much on the rocks

probably carries around a pocket knife at all times

probably bought said pocket knife from a dude in an alleyway for like $5 

myra also goes to ucla and theyre 100% still not speaking but that’s bc they’re both too stubborn to go to each other but like lbr aster misses her cousin

v unruly, nvr brushes her hair, usually got dirt on her clothes bc she’s prolly been digging in gardens or stealing flowers or some shit

bright side is tht she always smells like flowers

theta sigma eta is lucky b/c she cooks her own meals w her own fresh veggies n shit n she always makes too much food n like ? so good

but anyways she’s also got like no manners okay she’s so impolite

uuuuuuh god i dunno what else

wanted connections

ride or die

other friends of varying closeness

ex-friends ???

...like somebody she’s into but also...not into? v conflicted feelings

on-and-off-agains bc their relationship is awful n probably toxic but it just. hurt so good

ex-gfs

ex-hookups

boys she’s led on

boys she’s currently leading on

flirtatious encounter gone wrong [not clickbait] ??

enemies

enemies but gone sexual [not clickbait]

buyers of her products - either weed, shrooms, or opium teehee

roommate

give her somebody she was a uwu soft crush on but would nvr do anything abt bc gross romance !!

alternately, unrequited crushes of any sorts

fellow gays b/c gays always end up knowing each other

party pals

frenemies ??

sdfgh give me her dad’s trophy wife pleathe....it’d be so funny

childhood friends tht knew her b4 she moved to boston so like...ages 0-9

childhood friends tht knew her after she moved to boston so like...ages 9-17

or acquaintances bc she was....a mean one

A TUTOR just b/c she can rly struggle w her dyslexia

#uclas:intro

[forhisglory]

2020

It’s been more than a year since I’ve journaled properly. I have another journal app on my phone which I use to jot down random thoughts, but I’ve been journaling less and less as time passes. My abilities to be still, to think deeply or to pray have all vanished. There’s nothing inside my brain so there’s not much to write about. Even while reading the news and seeing what’s happening in the world, my heart thumps for a second because of injustice and the brokenness of this world, and I even hatch opinions about some matters, but that quickly goes away and I’m back to feeling nothing... absolutely nothing. 

This year, although it may sound completely and utterly selfish to say, has been exactly what I needed - it’s what I’ve longed for. Taking a break from society, from life, from commuting, from going into the office, from having human interaction - are all things I’ve wanted to do but could never do because life, I felt, always had to go on. 

With covid and wfh, I’ve been able to take advantage of the time that was given to me in a negative way - I have let myself go completely and indulged in numbing my mind, heart, soul, brain and body. I ate. I slept. I isolated. I played games and watched every imaginable show and movie. I basically became a miserable human being and regressed in many ways. Although I felt like this was a time for much needed rest, I felt like this huge gaping hole inside of me was getting bigger and the emptiness I was feeling was getting even worse. I was feeling unmotivated, indifferent to most, if not all things, and passionless. I didn’t know what I was living for. There was no direction. No goals. And like I mentioned before, zero passion. In other words, I feel/felt dead.

It wasn’t until recently though, where I felt like all I needed to make some changes. Maybe it was the sunday services I was tuning into, maybe it was the hardship Andrew and I had to endure the last several months, maybe it was participating in the Spiritual Authority workshop, maybe it was Andrew speaking truth into me and to me in the ever so gentle way, maybe it was the recent conversation I had with Jamie about healing from my past... perhaps it was all of these things including, including the self indulgence part, that led me to be where I am tonight to write this post. But right now, I feel like I am about to have some sort of major breakthrough very soon. 

There are a lot of thoughts going through my head all day today and tonight, but I feel like I’m in a good place. Also, for the first time in a long time, know and feel that God at work in my life - He’s doing something in me... before I try to explain and write another 10 paragraphs, here are some of the thoughts I’ve been having

- last session with Jamie really had an impact on me. Not sure if it was from me just talking about it and then praying to God about it, but it did something in me. 

- I was looking through all the cards that i’ve kept, but mainly the ones from the new heart days. I was reading through them and I felt wistful? Like a longing to go back to the days when I was filled with passion and zeal... for God and people. I feel that frequently in fact, but today was different. It was kind of sad. Kind of feeling shocked that my life used to be so different back then. Shocked also at all the kind words people wrote in their cards to me. Kind of feeling strange actually, but in a good way. It wasn’t negative at all. I was reading some of the card contents to Andrew and he was like, but those church people did you wrong. And when he said that, I could see how the card contents contradicted that so much. These people were blessed by me because they were able to serve side by side with me. They were grateful towards me because of the love I showed them. They were encouraging me. They were all positive. I realized something at that moment, and I’m not sure if this has all sunk in yet, but I was so loved... at church. The ones who did hurt me were all so emotionally unhealthy and in a bad place so of course their actions and words would show that. And then I realized, that was satan trying to keep me out of the church. He was good. He prevented me from going all these years. And right after that, I read a card from Ian. She wrote to me that God is preparing me for something big - that she could sense it so strongly and that God was going to use me for his people. And then another thing I thought about from all of this was, strange too, because it was while we were eating dinner tonight, was how much I struggled with trying to earn the respect of others and how much recognition I needed and wanted when I used to serve. And then I thought, maybe I needed to go through all these years of being in the wilderness and desert so that God could change that part of my heart and humble me. 

- after all this, I wanted to go back to facebook strangely to look at all my old photos for some reason. I saw a lot of my old pictures from my new heart days. I realized just how pretty I was. How precious I was. That I had nothing to feel insecure about. Nothing to worry about when it came to my looks, especially after my face settled down around 2011. I felt like I just got prettier and prettier after that. I wish I could tell this to my younger self.

- I realized now as I’m writing that I struggled with so much shame for so long. Shame, rejection, fears, and believing in lies. 

- all I ever wanted was a spouse/partner in life. now that I have one, a really great one, I realized that it doesn’t fulfill me. I have great moments with andrew, but I am still so empty inside, sometimes feeling like I’m wasting away my life.

I don’t want to get too excited because things like this have happened before. I have these realizations and then it just kind of fizzles out. I do know that I still have some deep, inner healing that needs to happen in order to break free from my insecurities and anger issues. There’s a lot because I have to go so far back to when I was so young. Oh yes, I wanted to mention that I realized recently that I’m stuck in high school or rather, that I have been stuck in high school - unable to move on from what happened during those years and years after that. 

God, its been awhile and I’m sorry for that. Maybe it was something I needed, but I do want to go back to you now. I know I need you and you’re the only thing that can fulfill the deepest desires of my heart and soul. I want to fall in love with you again. The right way this time. Please help me love Jesus the way you do, God. Make me whole and renew my heart. Amen. 

[tillymint7]

Rick Creed 😎

Rick lectures was great, his humour and the relaxed way he speaks about his work it speaks volumes to me about how comfortable he is with how he creates. I hope Im lucky enough one day to attain that sense of depth and self knowledge.

To Rick life is a circle ⭕️ he talks so beautifully about all the world being drunk and he is just trying to make some sense out of it through his work. I love this analogy so much.

His works with mixed media found objects and geometric shapes that create a sense of perspective in his paintings. Ricks says his paintings are very urban due to his love of the city. To me they also have a sense of journey, like a story of colour and emotion. Rick also talked about the countryside unnerving him, he gets confused by all the green 😂He talks about how the more dangerous an area is the more he is attracted to it. His paintings explore painting beyond the frame. He talks about going for a walk on the canvas, which sounds really romantic 💓

Rick also uses Latin words for his titles, which is a language that I find fascinating. My generation just missed out on learning Latin in school, but Iv always heard how difficult it is to learn.

It’s interesting to see that literature plays a big part in Risks inspiration as well as the fabulous artist Piet Mondrian. I can see Piet Mondrians influence in Ricks work through his use of colour and geometric shapes.

In particular Rick is inspired by a 12th century poet called Rumi ❣️ I’ll definitely have to investigate this poet, the one poem he read was absolutely beautiful. 🥰

Titles are very important to Rick giving the viewer a way in to maybe understanding or reading his work.

His atitude to his work is amazing he has gotten to that comfortable place with his work that ability to stay out of his own head so he can create, which is a great skill. Iv always been able to zone out so much so thats sometimes I even do it unconsciously during conversation, not through being consciously rude or bored, but it’s just how my mind travels. I can still get too stuck in my head at times with my own work and it can stop the creative process for me entirely. I hope through years of practice I can hone that fabulous skill.

Rick talks about remembering to be true to our inner selves, thoughts and emotions and not over thinking or allowing outside influences to hinder our genuine self.

Rick’s attitude of doing what you love and being true to ourselves is the best advice. It’s definitely something we all need to remember create work from our hearts without external influence or expectations.

He talked about the time a lecturer told him his work was terrible. He spoke with such passion about his lecturers at uni being ‘a bunch of bastards’ and how that stopped him in his tracks creatively and how destructive that can be for any artist.

To be honest I had happen to me recently with me print work and I havent looked at them since. So I know how he feels. It’s hard to move passed being deflated. Another person aggressively and negatively commenting is so unhelpful. It’s about the wording, critiqually constructive advice helps the person progress and doesn’t hinder the creative process.

I always find Rick really welcoming and lovely to speak too. I know we are constantly being assessed, but Rick it great at making you feel relaxed. He always makes you laugh and listens to what you have to say. He always has time for a natter he is a true legend and a genuinely kind hearted person that doesn’t suffer fools gladly. My favourite Rick moment was catching him walking into our studio making the crucifix sign .....😂🤣 probably best to be safe than sorry.

The Q&A was amazing, Rick’s insight is so reassuring and supportive to us all. I look forward to seeing his new works. He is such a wise and fabulous artist. I hope to be that focused someday.

Rick talked about how we are all embarking on a career where we are always having to start at the beginning. When you look at it that way it makes you realise how much work goes into dedicating your life to art.

I said to Rick once ‘being an artist is like we are dancing in the dark’ We are dancing around hoping not to miss that next step that helps our work come into its own.

Rick Creed - my lecture notes

Robert Crumb - cartoonist

What am I doing in this dimension

Most of the world is drunk - making sense of the none sensical 🥰

Latin - forms our language- English

Abstract shapes bright colour perspective mixed media geometric

Social life inner life - what is is to be human

Tractus- path Latin

Find countryside very strange - smells green

P Mondrian - dedication to trees and the spaces between the trees, which became his geometric shapes ❣️

More dangerous the more attractive something is.

Rock against drugs 🤪

Everything is a circle ⭕️ always feel like that 💖

Unlocking unpicking our practice

Pushing the boundaries

Found objects

Sense of city and furniture 🪑 creates perspective

All end up on the skip recycling 😜

Loves response/ reactions-

Almost like it tells a story?

Eaggemearc- eye Mark

Titles important interesting

Load of bastards hehe 😂 love that term like a room full of bastards - very negative 👎 stops progress completely agree

Show in Turkey

Lacus - not being bound by the frame painting beyond the frame 🖼

Hockasy?? Can’t spell

Recino -

Screw the history - my work for me not for others sod expectations- 🙌

Caput - making a portrait

Paperwork- through a window like a blur or a memory

Drawing good for not being self conscious? Automatic writing ✍️

Trying to be a poet

Volantes- looking down looking through

The Rebel - Doesn’t know he is a genius - is genius real?

‘Your colours are the wrong shape’

Alister Grant - paintings in movie 🍿

Rumi - poetry 12th century?

‘Only from the heart you can touch the sky’

Q&A - work everyday 2 -3

Intuition - I use this

Albion - book 📚 Peter Ackroid

Choosing to explore - I like that

Very urban

Uncertainty and chance

Leaving an imperfection int he work to remain human. Not too perfect.

About me and my head

Built on - go on a walk on the canvas

Seeing the world as shapes

It’s a sensation

Never think I’m making a picture

I became the drawing man 👨

Positivity madder and wilder

[musicaddictand]

Over the last days I read many complaints about the show never telling us why Dethan broke up and how Jethan then happened, so let me share my head-canon with you.

Danny and Ethan left Beacon Hills as we all know, but we don’t know where to. I think they just wandered aimlessly around the world for some time. Ethan, who had nowhere else to go, was happy this way, but Danny, who had friends, family, and a life back in Beacon Hills, was not. Ethan eventually realizes that he is drawn to something. He cannot immediately figure out to what or where it is, but he decides to give in to it. They end up at the French Nematon we could see on a map in episode 6.16. They meet other supernaturals there, and Ethan figures that he might as well just live among them in the wilderness. Danny, however, is unhappy. What he had been feeling during his voyage with Ethan reached a new climax at that moment.  He decides that, although he loves Ethan with all his heart, it is not enough to have him live as a savage. As neither are willing to compromise, they agree to split-up. Danny then returns to Beacon Hills and avoids interactign with Scott and co., since he wanted nothing more to do with the supernatural following the break-up.

Around the same time, Jackson, who is living in London, begins realizing that something it drawing him to it, too. Once the school-vacations begin Jackson then does as Ethan did and decides to follow the inner-voice. He takes a ferry from England to France, and back-packs around the country for several days. He, too, ends up at the Nemeton. There he introduces himself to the other supernaturals. Ethan, who has sharp werewolf-hearing, can make Jackson out saying “Beacon Hills”. He then approaches Jackson, and the two learn that they both used to call the same city their home, albeit at very different times. They then delve into a conversation, in which Ethan tells Jackson (who was not in Beacon Hills during S3) about the Nemeton’s drawing powers.

It should be mentioned at this point that Ethan stopped wearing clothes VERY Soon after his arrival, since he had no way of cleaning them out in the wilderness. For Jackson’s sake he put on a pair of boxer’s out of fear of having Jackson feeling awkward. Little did Ethan expect that Jackson was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate, and eventually noticed that he has a HUGE boner in his pants. Ethan inquires about Jackson’s weird behaviour, and eventually finds a possible explanation. “Jackson, are you gay?” “NO!!” Jackson yells, VERY, VERY loudly, so that even the other supernaturals turn towards them. Ethan apologizes, but there is now an awkward silence between them. Charlie eventually figured out that it might be better if he leaves, but Jackson grabs him by his wrist. He then places a kiss on Ethan’s mouth. The latter was taken by surprise completely, but eventually returned the kiss. It didn’t take much longer until they made out passionately, and it doesn’t take much longer for them to retreat behind the bushes. There they have hot and passionate sex. For different reasons this is very special for them. For Ethan, because he had thought he would never have sex with someone again after Danny left, and for Jackson because it was his first time with a man. After the cum, Ethan falls asleep contented, but Jackson is now disgusted at himself. While Ethan is sleeping, Jackson takes to his heels. Ethan is slightly disappointed next morning. He had never expected Jackson to want a relationship with him, but he had hoped to be able to enjoy his company for a little longer.

Back in London, Jackson proceeds with things as if nothing happened, but after a few days he realizes that he cannot get Ethan out of his head. He returns to the french Nematon, and both are delighted once they reunite. Jackson apologizes to Ethan for leaving immediately, but the latter is not angry much to his surprise. Jackson then opens up about having suspected being gay since he had been much yonger, but having been scared of accepting it to himself. He also exlains about his struggles in bed with his ex-girlfriend Lydia Martin. He suspects that it goes along with his “unrealistic expectations” problems. Ethan offers guidance, and reveals he knows a way to help him see things clearer. Ethan then seduces Jackson, and they fuck again. Ethan asks Jackson if he liked it, afterwards, and Jackson says he does.

Jackson stays in France with Ethan for the next couple of weeks. They spend almost their entire time together, and have more sex. Once Jackson’s vacation ends, Jackson reveals to Ethan that he has come to accept that he is gay. Then he tells Ethan the he loves him. Ethan returns he loves Jackson, too. Jackson begs Ethan to not let things end here, and asks him to come to London with him. Ethan is sceptical at first, since he had grown accustomed to his life here around the french Nemeton, but Jackson appeals to him about being able to do better than live as a savage. He emphasizes that Ethan would be with somebody who really cares about him. In the end, Ethan is convinced and follows Jackson back to London.

In London they search for an appartment together. With the help of Jackson’s parents and some inheritence from Ethan’s family, they manage to rent a loft in the city. Ethan does not find it difficult to settle back into civilization, considering he is right around West-End. That’s how Ethan and Jackson found their happy ending, which even the werewolf-hunters, who came for them exactely one year after they had confessed their love for each other, had been unable to spoil. In the years to come Jackson and Ethan would joke about whether the Nemeton had actually wanted to draw them towards each other, or not.

Edit: Feel free to say what you think. Could you imagine things playing out like that?

#jethan #jackson whittemore #ethan #teen wolf cast #charlie carver #Alpha Twins #tv #teen wolf

[queenof-wands-blog]

Spiritual Path Reading

It felt right to do a tarot pull on my spiritual path today. My spread so far has been beautiful and I feel the need to express the meanings of the cards in written form to gather deeper understanding of how they are all connected. The explanations of the cards are not my own and come from Biddy Tarot. 

Am I on the right path? 

Knave of Wands: The Page of Wands is similar to the Fool in that he is a free spirit who represents change and new beginnings. He has a true passion for life, despite his understanding of this world is not yet fully developed. He has not yet been weighed down by the burdens of the material world, coming and going as he pleases, and usually encouraging change wherever he goes. He is like the catalyst that inspires changes that might be impossible in any other situation.The appearance of the Page of Wands indicates that you are experiencing a creative restlessness within you that is just waiting for some sort of expression, or, you may be on the verge of some sort of discovery or new phase of life. The Page of Wands represents the sudden creative spark that comes to you, suddenly and unexpectedly, and that starts you down the road of a new creative vision. Thus, he encourages you to express yourself and your individuality with light-hearted abandon. Listen to your unconscious mind and follow your creative urges, even if you are worried about being the lonely voice crying out in the wilderness. With persistence and a balanced perspective even the immature desires of the Page of Wands can be transformed into a beautiful creative vision that can change the world.Similarly, the Page of Wands indicates that you need to be positive and spontaneous but not overly impulsive. Your enthusiasm impresses others but if you become impatient or quick to anger or lose interest, you will put others off-side and you will waste time in your creative projects.With the Page of Wands, you are inclined to give anything and everything a go. If you are enthusiastic or passionate enough, you embrace the opportunity to start out on a new journey or project and see where it takes you. You do not necessarily have a solid plan in place, nor do you really know where you are headed but you do know that you are excited about the possibilities.You are enjoying being busy and involved in various activities and projects. You like the freedom of being able to choose what you will work on today, and hopefully it is different from what you worked on the day before. Oftentimes, the Page of Wands is a messenger, bringing you inspiring or unexpected news, new information or a welcome surprise. It may be the birth of a child, a new and inspiring idea that a friend has, or a new opportunity for you to be involved in to ‘change the world’ such as a community project. His news is nearly always positive and welcomed because it is often associated with change and creation.The Page of Wands may also represent someone you know or who is about to enter your life. He is a trusted friend who is devoted to your interests and will do everything he can to help you. His intentions will be honourable and genuine. He is here in your life to spark change, to help you see the world from a new perspective and to guide you towards a new approach. While you may look to this Page as an immature or child-like presence, he actually has a lot to offer you if you open yourself up to the possibilities that he shares with you.

Why am I on this path?

Eight of Swords Reversed: The Eight of Swords reversed indicates that you have come through a difficult time and you are becoming more open to change and self-acceptance. You have been able to reflect on what did and did not work in the past and have changed your perspective and approach. You acknowledge that you do indeed have options, and you are refusing to play the role of ‘the victim’, taking greater accountability for where you are in life.The Eight of Swords reversed indicates that you need to free yourself from some of the limiting factors of your past. You have some skeletons in the closet that need clearing out. Allow yourself to let go of old patterns of behaviour and belief systems that have previously held you back.

Positive Influences/People for this my path.

Eight of Chalices: The Eight of Cups indicates that it is time to ask yourself what you can do to bring a deeper satisfaction and joy to your life beyond the obvious pursuit of material satisfaction and/or physical enjoyment. You are seeking deeper meaning to life and focusing in on your personal truth. You want to escape from the ‘rat race’ and pursue deeper, more spiritual goals at this time. You are willing to let go of your material possessions in favour of something more meaningful. Thus, the Eight of Cups is often reflective of the start of a journey of discovery, particularly on a spiritual level.The Eight of Cups also indicates that you are disappointed enough to walk away from everything you have built up so far. It could indicate a disappointment in love or dissatisfaction with material success. It could also indicate that you have over-extended yourself to the point of emotional exhaustion. Even though you have already come so far, you feel that you can no longer go on and your only choice is to walk away from the situation. You feel disappointed with yourself but you know that this is the right thing to do before you completely burn out. You may also be feeling that you are giving too much and not getting nearly enough in exchange.

Influences/People acting against my path.

Knight of Swords reversed:  This reversed Knight is incredibly impatient, impulsive and bursting with energy. This person has so much energy but so little direction that this results in them making rash decisions and pulling down others with them. Their thoughts are scattered and all over the place. They are likely to be very disorganised, flippant and unpredictable. If you encounter this type of person, you need to be very wary and make sure that you do not get caught up in all the hype and energy that surrounds them. It will be easily done for this person is a greater talker and is full of ideas and thoughts about future opportunities. Do not get sucked in to their whirlwind of activity and energy! The Knight of Swords reversed indicates that you need to go it alone in order to build up valuable life experience and maturity. As you search for freedom and independence, it is likely you will make mistakes on your way due to your reckless and impatient nature but this is all part of the journey. This card can often reflect a rebellious teenager who is fighting for their own independence, and the parents who need to allow that teenager to make the mistakes and to be accountable for their actions.The reversed Knight of Swords can also suggest that you need to slow down otherwise you are at risk of serious burn-out and exhaustion. You want to be involved in everything but you are not succeeding at anything due to this scattered thought and energy. As such, you are spinning your wheels and accomplishing very little but growing more and more tired by the day. Take some time out so that you can first ground yourself, gather your thoughts and focus on only the top priorities.

How difficult will this path be?

Two of Chalices: Despite the focus on the two beings shown on this card, the Two of Cups also points to what is happening within the individual. To be truly loved, deeply treasured and valued highly by others, you must first and foremost strive to create those feelings for yourself. That is, when you work toward loving yourself, you hold your inner spirit in high regard, treating it with deference and deep respect. When you see yourself in this positive light, other people cannot help but respond to your personal sense of value in an equally positive manner.

#spiritual path #spirituality #spiritual growth #tarot #tarot reading #true north

[antisocial-wings]

I’m not sure if it’s too late but I couldn’t let this contest go by without putting in an entry!  This is for the contest @shipwreckedcomedy is holding for their new short film The Case of the Gilded Lily, which looks amazing so how could I not?  If you like film noir (or at least noir-inspired short films), comedy, mystery, or just talent in general PLEASE consider donating to the kickstarter for this awesome project here!!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1029702011/the-case-of-the-gilded-lily

So without further ado, this short fic is called ‘Breaking’.

     The tall grass of the African plains swayed calmly in the breeze, paying no mind to Evelyn Buckminster as she ran for her life.

     “What are we going to do, Ev?” asked her companion, strapping young zoologist Henry Write as he ran along beside her.  The distant sound of a lion’s fierce roar could be heard behind them.

     Without slowing her speed Evelyn surveyed their surroundings.  Flat grassy plains, as far as the eye could see.  The few trees or rocks scattered across the land were not nearly of any size to hide them from the hungry beast that pursued them not far behind.  She slowed and spun around frantically, her eyes scanning the environment as quickly as her mind was racing to think of one of her usual last-minute escapes.  But her eyes, and her mind, found nothing.

     “Oh, gee Henry!” she admitted, defeated.  “I just don’t know!  It looks like the hunter is becoming the prey.”

     Henry was silent for a moment.  “Well then Evelyn, doll.  It looks like this might be the end of the line for us.”

     “You can’t mean that!” she gasped.

     “I’m just sorry my damn assignment dragged you all the way out here in the wilderness with me,” he looked down at the dirt beneath him.

     “Don’t be,” she shook her head firmly and took both his hands.  “Why, it was my fault we’re in this mess!  I should have known not to observe the cubs’ behavior from such a close distance while their mother was around.”

     As if in response another roar sounded, this time much closer.

     “But if this is it, baby,” he grabbed her by the shoulders, “then I just wanted to say you are the most dynamite dame I’ve ever met, and that’s the truth.  Call me selfish but I’m glad I get to spend these last few moments with you.  I’d rather be eaten alive out here on these damn plains than have to grow old without you ‘till I’m eventually crushed by the feather of loneliness.”

     “What?” she blinked.

     “It’s an expression.”

     “Oh.  Oh Henry!” she exclaimed, before he swept her up in an intense final kiss right as the jaws of death were upon them.

     “And…..CUT!”

     Immediately Wilhelmina and Cliff broke apart, their burning passion from just a moment before suddenly dissolving into polite disinterest, with a few casual murmurs of “well done” to each other.  Nothing they hadn’t done dozens of times before with every take of this film.

     “Miss Vanderjetski, Mr. Calloway, great job.  Brilliant performance, as usual,” the director remarked without so much as a glance up from his notes towards them.  “Alright people, reset!  Scene twelve shoots in exactly thirty minutes!”

     Thirty minutes of prepping and retouching before she had to go right back into it.  That was the “downtime” of an actress these days.

     “Wilhelmina, darling, superstar, that was phenomenal!” gushed that greasy-haired manager of hers as he rushed over with her usual post-scene mineral water.  “Why if I’m not mistaken I do believe I smell another Oscar in the near future!”

     “Oh, I don’t know…” the young starlet directed an unsure gaze toward the set crew as they wheeled a glaringly fake stuffed lion onto the already crude replica of the African wilderness.  “I’m just not so sure about this film anymore.  Are you sure it was the right choice to turn down that other role?  In the wizard movie?”

     “What, that new Oz picture?” her manager sniffed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.  “Trust me doll, it’s a sure-fired flop, it’ll never take off.”  He turned to blow smoke away from her direction.  “I’m telling you, that Garland dame is taking a bullet, it’ll be the beginning and the end of her career, you mark my words.  But THIS-” he gestured grandly toward the painted backdrop of the African plains.  “THIS is a picture that’ll have the crowds talking for decades to come.  By the next century, there won’t be a single soul that hasn’t heard of the iconic cinematic masterpiece “Sufferin’ Safari”!  Have I ever steered you wrong sweetheart?”

     “I suppose not…” she replied slowly, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the paper-mache disaster that was supposed to pass as a boulder.  “No, you’re right,” she said resolutely, pointedly ignoring every tiny voice in the back of her mind that said otherwise.  With a wink and an “of course I am!” her manager disappeared into the mass of moving set pieces and extras.

     “Besides,” she said aloud, more for her own benefit than anyone that might have been within earshot.  “I am, after all, Wilhelmina Vanderjetski.  What kind of trouble could a name with so much weight in this town get into anyways?”

     “What indeed…” said a voice behind her, causing her to jump.  Her curls bounced as she whipped her head around to face the source of the voice and found two unfamiliar young faces that didn’t look at all like they belonged on set.

     The female stranger, a dark-haired beauty dressed in a stylish skirt suit sighed with a delicate roll of her eyes.  “You’ll have to forgive tall-dark-and-mysterious over here, he’s still learning to keep his inner monologue to himself.”

     “Who are you?” the starlet demanded, her eyes flickering between the two faces.

     “No need for fear or suspicion, Miss Vanderjetski,” the young man in the fedora assured.  “At least, not yet.  The name is Ford Phillips, and the game is detective…ing.  Detectiving?  Detecting?”  He glanced at his companion for help.

     “Investigating?” she offered with another roll of her eyes.

     “Yes!  Investigating….is the game… To reiterate the name is Ford Phillips.  Yes.”  He cleared his throat.  “And this is my associate-”

     “Fig Wineshine,” the young woman beside him interrupted, extending a hand.  “Ace junior reporter and TEMPORARY partner” she glanced pointedly at the man, “to Ford over here.  We’re on a case right now, following a hot scoop which you may or may not know you’re wrapped up in tighter than a fly caught in a web.”  When Wilhelmina remained in a stunned silence, the young reporter’s dark eyes shifted again toward her colleague with a confident gleam, the look of a captain that’s just caught her Moby Dick.

     “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

     “And…..CUT!”

     Immediately all temporary illusions were dropped as characters regressed to actors and the director stepped out from behind the camera.

     “Sarah, Tom, good job with the safari scene.  Sean and Sinead I wanna do that final shot one more time from a front angle.  Let’s run it from there,” William Stribling announced, repositioning the camera to a better location.

     Sean turned to Sinead, who had temporarily removed her ace reporter’s hat to plump up the curls that had been somewhat flattened beneath it.  “I don’t know, do you really think we need to throw that feather reference to Poe Party in there?  Seems kinda cheesy.”

     “Oh come on, they’ll love it!”  Sinead replaced her hat on her head, smirking.  “Everyone loves a good fourth wall break.”

Okayyyyy so I might have gotten a little carried away with the prompt but once I started writing it was hard to stop.  I also may or may not have taken the title of Wilhelmina’s film from one of the newspaper articles in the kickstarter video.  So there it is, my very first fic ever!  Hope you enjoyed, and PLEASE don’t forget to consider donating to this amazing team of people!

#The Case of the Gilded Lily #Shipwrecked Comedy #Fig and Ford #FigAndFord #Gilded Lily #my post

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

6th March >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18 for Ash Wednesday: ‘Your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you’.

Ash Wednesday

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 6:1-6,16-18

Your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Be careful not to parade your good deeds before men to attract their notice; by doing this you will lose all reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give alms, do not have it trumpeted before you; this is what the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win men’s admiration. I tell you solemnly, they have had their reward. But when you give alms, your left hand must not know what your right is doing; your almsgiving must be secret, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.

‘And when you pray, do not imitate the hypocrites: they love to say their prayers standing up in the synagogues and at the street corners for people to see them; I tell you solemnly, they have had their reward. But when you pray, go to your private room and, when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in that secret place, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.

‘When you fast do not put on a gloomy look as the hypocrites do: they pull long faces to let men know they are fasting. I tell you solemnly, they have had their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that no one will know you are fasting except your Father who sees all that is done in secret; and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.’

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

Your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

“When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.

“When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites. They neglect their appearance, so that they may appear to others to be fasting. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting, except to your Father who is hidden. And your Father who sees what is hidden will repay you.”

Reflections (7)

(i) Ash Wednesday

Almsgiving, prayer and fasting, which Jesus comments on in today’s gospel reading, have been described as the three pillars of Lent. They are practices that are deeply rooted in the Jewish tradition. Jesus affirms their value in today’s gospel reading, but he warns against engaging in these practices in a way that draws attention to ourselves. What seems like something virtuous can be very self-serving in reality. The gospels show that Jesus himself fasted, prayed and engaged in various forms of almsgiving or self-giving service of others. Of the three practices, fasting can seem the most negative. Fasting is a saying ‘no’ to something. Prayer is a saying ‘yes’ to God, to the Lord. Almsgiving is a saying ‘yes’ to others and, for us believers, a saying ‘yes’ to the Lord present in others. Yet, there is nothing essentially negative about fasting or self-denial. If it is a saying ‘no’ to something, that ‘no’ is always in the service of our saying a more generous ‘yes’ to the Lord in prayer and to others in almsgiving. Pope Francis has said the following about fasting or self-denial, ‘Lent is a fitting time for self-denial; we would do well to ask ourselves what we can give up in order to help and enrich others by our poverty. Let us not forget that real poverty hurts; no self-denial is real without this dimension of penance’. It is clear from what Pope Francis says that he sees self-denial or fasting as in the service of our helping and enriching others, or what we might call almsgiving. Fasting also serves our prayer, as Jesus showed by his forty days in the wilderness. There is always that other-centred dimension to our fasting and self-denial, whether the other is God directly as in prayer or God present in others as in almsgiving. Lent is a time to reflect on how we might take up these three practices of almsgiving, prayer and fasting, so as to grow more fully into our baptismal calling. We take ashes on this Ash Wednesday as a sign of our desire, our commitment, to grow in our response to the Lord’s calling by means of these three great Lenten pillars.

And/Or

(ii) Ash Wednesday

We often think of Lent as a time when we do something worthwhile to grow in our relationship with the Lord. It is often thought of as a time when we make more of an effort in the area of living our faith. We might think in terms of the three practices that Jesus mentions in the gospel reading, prayer, fasting and almsgiving. We decide to pray a little more or we decide to fast from something that we like or that we are too attached to, or we resolve to give more generously to others out of our resources and gifts. This is a very valid way of looking at Lent. As well as thinking of Lent as a time when we do something worthwhile for the Lord, we could also think of Lent as a time when we allow the Lord to do something worthwhile for us. Lent is as much about God’s work for us as about our work for God. I am struck by that word of Saint Paul in today’s second reading, ‘we beg you once again not to neglect the grace of God that you have received’. Paul is reminding us that God has already graced us. He has already been at work in our lives, and he continues to do his work in our lives. Lent could be understood as a time when we give God more space to do God’s good work in our lives. The goal of our lives as Christians is, in the words of Saint Paul in that reading, to become the goodness of God. This is predominantly God’s work in our lives. It is God’s work in our lives through his Son and the Holy Spirit that enables us to become the goodness of God. Writing to the church in Philippi, Paul says to them, ‘I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ’. God has begun a good work in our lives. That good work of God is always ongoing. It will be brought to completion when we become the goodness of God. Lent is a time when we allow God to do his good work in our lives more easily, more freely. During these weeks we try to co-operate more fully with the good work that God is always doing within us and among us.

And/Or

(iii) Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday could hardly make more visible and tangible the transience of things and our mortality. We start Lent in humility, close to the ground, close to our earthiness: remember you are dust and to dust you shall return. However, we do not gather on Ash Wednesday just to commemorate the transience of creation. The ashes used on Ash Wednesday are the residue of the celebration of Passion Sunday. Jesus died and was buried in a tomb, the place of decay and the place of dust. Yet he rose from the dead to new life. Our ultimate destiny is not dust and ashes but a sharing in the Lord’s risen life, becoming conformed to the image of God’s Son. As we journey towards that destiny we hear the call to grow more fully into the image of God’s Son, which is a call to turn away from sin, to repent. The ashes are a sign of our desire to do just that. The traditional practices of Lent put before us the essentials for growth into the image of God’s Son. There are all in the service of love, a greater love of God (prayer), a more generous love of neighbour (alms giving), and a truer love of ourselves (fasting). We recommit ourselves on Ash Wednesday to build our lives on those three loves, so that we may more fully become all that God is calling us to be.

And/Or

(iv) Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday could hardly make more visible and tangible the transience of things and our own mortality. We start Lent with ashes on our forehead, in humility, close to the ground, close to our earthiness, acknowledging that our ultimate destiny is beyond this earthly life, and thereby recognizing, by means of these ashes, that we are not yet all that the Lord wants us to be. The opening call of the first reading this evening, the first reading of Lent, expresses the call of Lent, ‘Come back to me with all your heart’. It is a call to keep returning to the Lord, to keep journeying towards the Lord. We can come back to the Lord with great confidence because again in the words of that first reading, the Lord ‘is all tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in graciousness’. As we return towards the Lord, he comes more than half-way to meet us. Indeed, his grace draws us to himself, if we are open to it. In this evening’s second reading Saint Paul calls upon us not to ‘neglect the grace of God that you have received’. The Lord is already at work in our lives through the Holy Spirit. Our calling is to yield to that work of the Lord deep within us and in so doing to draw closer to the Lord. The ashes that we receive on our forehead today are a sign of our desire to grow in our relationship with the Lord who so loved us that he laid down his life for us.

And/Or

(v) Ash Wednesday

The traditional practices of Lent that we heard about in the gospel reading, prayer, fasting and almsgiving put before us three traditional ways of growing in our relationship with the Lord. They are three pathways that help us to turn more fully towards him. They are really one pathway with three layers, because prayer, fasting and almsgiving are so interconnected. We often think of fasting as giving up certain foods and drink. More broadly, however, fasting is a saying ‘no’ to whatever may be an obstacle to our growing in our relationship with the Lord; it is a saying ‘no’ to any form of self-centredness. That ‘no’ is always in the service of a greater ‘yes’, a ‘yes’ to the Lord, which then finds expression in prayer, and a ‘yes’ to others, to the Lord present in others, which finds expression in ‘almsgiving’, a giving of ourselves in service to others. In and through these three practices that Jesus puts before us in the gospel reading we respond to the opening call of the first reading, ‘Come back to me with all your heart’. The church gives us the forty days of Lent to respond to that call of the Lord; we are setting out on this forty day journey not as isolated individuals but together, as a church. This journey of Lent will bring us to the wonderful feast of Easter. Hopefully, we will have lived Lent in such a way that when Easter Sunday comes, we will be ready to renew our Baptismal promises from our heart. Just as for our catechumens Lent is an intense period of preparation for their baptism at Easter, so for all of us, the baptized, it is a period when we prepare ourselves to recommit to our baptism at Easter.

And/Or

(vi) Ash Wednesday

The first line of the first reading for the season of Lent is in the form of an invitation from God. There it is at the beginning of today’s first reading, ‘Come back to me with all your heart, fasting, weeping, mourning… turn to the Lord your God again, for he is all tenderness and compassion’. We are hearing there the fundamental call of Lent. The call involves firstly a recognition that we are sinners, that in various ways we have turned away from God. It also involves a recognition that the God we have turned away from is a God of tenderness and compassion who longs for our return. Saint Paul in today’s second reading goes further and reminds us that the God from whom we have turned away has sought us out and continues to seek us out in the person of his Son Jesus. ‘For our sake, God make the sinless one into sin, so that in him we might become the goodness of God’. What a powerful statement that is! God sent his Son to become like us so that we might become like him. God in his Son journeyed towards our sinful condition so that we might journey towards God’s goodness. The ashes that we wear on this day tell the world that we are sinners. Yet, those ashes we received are in the shape of a cross, which proclaims that we believe in a God whose love is stronger than our sin. As Paul declares in his letter to the Romans, ‘God demonstrates his love for us, in that while we still were sinners, Christ died for us’. The three practices of almsgiving, prayer and fasting that Jesus speaks about in the gospel reading are three traditional ways of responding to God’s love for us in Christ, three ways of journeying towards God who has journeyed towards us. They are three ways of responding to that call of God at the beginning of the first reading, ‘Come back to me with all your heart’. These three Lenten practices are closely interlinked. Fasting is in the service of prayer and almsgiving. We die to ourselves so as to live more fully towards God and our fellow human being.

And/Or

(vii) Ash Wednesday

In a few moments, we will all come forward to receive some ashes on our foreheads and, as we do so, we will hear the words, ‘Repent and believe in the gospel’. It is the beginning of Lent. It is a seven-week period which ends with the Easter Triduum, Holy Thursday evening to Easter Sunday. It is a sombre season within the church’s year. The celebrant at Mass wears purple vestments instead of green or white. No flowers will appear to beautify our altar. At Mass on Sunday there will be no ‘Glory to God in the highest’ after the penitential rite. There is a general toning down. In musical terms, we are in a minor key. Lent is a season when the whole community of believers, the church, is invited to go on a kind of retreat. It is not a retreat in the normal sense of going off to a retreat house for a period of time. Very few are in a position to do that. It is more of a retreat in the midst of life. It is a time to come back to the Lord with all our heart, in the opening words of today’s first reading from the prophet Joel. As Joel reminds us in that reading, the Lord to whom we are invited to come back is one who is all tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in graciousness. It is a time to be reconciled to God in the words of Paul in the second reading, so that we can become what Paul calls in that reading‘the goodness of God’. This coming back to the Lord with all our heart will involve in some shape or form the three traditional Jewish practises which Jesus endorses in the gospel reading, almsgiving, prayer and fasting. Our coming back to the Lord will mean a renewed turning to him in prayer, a deepening of our prayer life. It will entail a form of fasting, of abstaining, from whatever it is that is pulling us away from the Lord. Our turning towards the Lord will show itself in some form of almsgiving, a more generous way of life towards others, a readiness to give out of what has been given to us. This is the journey on which we are being invited to set out together as we begin Lent. Our receiving of ashes proclaims our desire to enter into this journey with a willingness of heart and spirit.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

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