Tumgik
#Warm color family supremacy
sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 6 months
Note
bites you.
i would like to request,, any form of sippi content from my gf,, /nf
*bites you back* Ofc my love <3
"Fat Funny Friend" is 100% a Sippi song
He loves flowers and has several magnolia flower crowns that Loui has given him 😭🥺
Scared of literally everything. From spiders to death, he’s scared of it 😭 (he’s so pathetic-)
WE👏STAN👏SQUISHY👏BOYS👏 Squishy Sippi supremacy 🛐
Usually won’t choose violence, but if you hurt someone close to him, you have exactly 3.6 seconds to tell your family you love them. If you’re lucky.
Is 100% one of Loui’s favorite people to cuddle with (I mean- he’s warm and squishy what’s not to love-)
He has sectoral heterochromia in one eye (that means that one of his eyes is split into two colors, blue and brown.)
TE AMO MI ÁNGEL <3
12 notes · View notes
lydia-too-late · 4 months
Text
You go for walks at night. Your neighborhood is safe enough. There are streetlights, plenty of them, and even in the darkness, you know the lawns are meticulously-tended, each with the requisite two decorative trees lining the sidewalk, each splayed before a sprawling home, one of precisely three floorplan variations available in half a dozen colors. It’s a Good neighborhood, everyone says so, and even though you married a Good man with a Good job and paid your way in like everyone else, you haven't yet shaken the feeling of strangeness. Maybe you don’t belong. Maybe you’ve fooled everyone, and maybe that includes yourself. Maybe you are not Good.
Nevertheless, you are here, and you walk at night. A while ago, when things were really hard, sometimes you’d cry while you walked, listening to sad songs or nothing at all, fairly certain the darkness would conceal your tears from any neighbors peeking through the blinds. It was nice, on occasion, to have a change of location from your closet, where you usually went to cry. (Did any of the other women living here cry in their closets, away from their children and husbands? Was any other woman gazing outside her blinds and into the night, able to face the darkness but not her own family?) It’s been a while since you’ve been that sad. You suspect it’s still there, packed away like a cardboard box in the basement, waiting to be rediscovered and finally dealt with.
The requisite two decorative trees in each yard are not enough to conceal the fact that a decade ago, hundreds of acres of forest were felled for these oversized, unimaginative homes. Their construction demanded the destruction of everything else. Isn’t that how it goes, though? Perfection leaves nothing alone. The trees that grow now are far too domesticated to threaten the supremacy of asphalt, tidy lawns, pruned shrubs, seasonally-wreathed doors, concrete driveways and golf carts. You are outside, but you are hardly in nature.
Still, sometimes the world reminds you it still exists. In the springtime, dozens of frogs warm themselves on the concrete sidewalks after sunset, so many that you fear you’ll accidentally step on one if you don’t pay attention. You’ve seen a few snakes over the years, and once, a fox. Rabbits, mostly from the back as their tails bob away. A black cat sometimes follows you near the end of your route, before you double back and head home. If you stop, it will rub itself against your shins. (It’s not Good to let your cat wander outside, the neighbors say on Facebook.) The sky delivers its own occasional surprises: shooting stars, heat lightning in the summertime, and the moon, which sometimes hangs so low and large that you try to take a picture, but it cannot make the transition from sky to phone screen. What you get is a pathetic echo. You can’t capture it.
Tonight there is none of that, or nothing you’ve noticed. You walk fast enough to breathe more deeply without getting winded. The uniform orderliness of the sprawling houses and neat lawns is nearly invisible. You’re lost in your own thoughts, the music in your headphones. You are fine, maybe not Good but still okay. Suddenly, something swoops low overhead, something large and fast, and something happens, and then it’s gone. You see the flap of wings, light-colored in the darkness. A hawk. It’s enough to stop you in your tracks, peering into the direction it vanished.
Then, something closer to you, slower. Floating, almost. You reach out your hand, and catch a feather. Small, perhaps four inches long, tan and striped with darker brown. Later, you’ll look it up and identify it as a secondary wing feather, and you’ll also learn that it’s against the law to keep it. Still, you do, feeling somehow like it was a gift. You don’t believe in magic or miracles, but you do believe in meaning: self-created anchors to things, events, people, feelings. For a moment, you were seen and acknowledged by the wildness everyone works so hard to keep at bay. It could have fallen anywhere, but it fell right into your hand.
It’s not Good, but you keep it. You tuck it away in a blank journal. It never touched the ground.
3 notes · View notes
taryn-phillips · 1 year
Text
Ch.5 Fieldwork
White Supremacy
Tumblr media
White supremacy is beliefs and ideas emphasizing that the white human races is superior over other racial groups. This is largely shown and viewed in American culture (our country). For example, our formal president Donald trump was a white supremacist who's slogan was to "make America great again" meaning to gain power and benefits for only white people. Additionally, a riot perpetrated against the capitol by Donald trump supporters that was enforced by Donald trump himself. Our country is viewed as white people can get away with things that black people or any other person of color can't. The system has been like this since the beginning and it all roots from white supremacy.
American culture
Tumblr media
in 2018, Childish Gambino an American rapper/singer released a song called "This is America" where the song focuses on a side how the world views America and then the other side what America is hiding (that is not shown). The side that is portrayed to the world is the American dream where every family is living behind a white picket fence, in a beautiful home with great jobs. The side that is not shown is the struggle minorities go through in this country on a daily basis. The music video targets black life in America and American culture by including secret messages and symbolism throughout the video like black people fighting the police etc. We can say that our culture the (American culture) is portrayed to other culture as fast food, sports, and privileged.
Genetics
Tumblr media
In the human we race we distribute ourselves into groups based off of race. According to chapter 5, based on variations of skin color and other visible features associated with race are shaped by less than 0.1% of genetic code. For example, a person from Western Africa who starts walking east will have more in common genetically with someone in Russia compared to their neighbor at home.
Stereotypes
Tumblr media
Stereotypes are widely held fixed ideas of a particular race or group. A popular stereotype among the black race is that we have large noses/ large lips. As the first humans evolved from Africa, your features came from where you are in the world and the climate of that location. According to the article sciencelet, an advantage with having a larger nose facilitates breathing in more air thereby supplying the body with more oxygen especially in warm climates. Physical activity in a hotter environment is more demanding because your body requires more oxygen rather than in cooler climates. So
Tumblr media
The show blackish also portrays black culture stereotypes. It shows how a typical black family lives in America and the struggles that come with it. In the show, it shows how black culture is viewed from an inside and outside perspective.
Microaggression in American society
Tumblr media
Microagression is common for POC in America and it is simply a term for everyday insults, snubs, or negative attitude to target someone solely on their race or culture. We have a common with microagression in many places such as the workplace, hospitals, and unfortunately schools. Many black children are judged right when they walk in the door that they are either disruptive or will slack off. This judgement roots from racism and has turned into a microagression in schools. For example, the award winning movie The great debaters portrays a group of kids from an HBCU that challenge white kids in debating during the 1935 era. In the movie, actor Denzel Washington starts a debate team at a hbcu which was highly unheard of during that time. In the movie, nobody expected anything great from this all black debate team. They were viewed inner American culture as dense and unintelligent. Surely, these kids made a good name for themselves and ended up winning the debate contest. Although they won, they were judged on their knowledge just because they are black which gave them the disadvantage.
Racial genocide
Tumblr media
Racial genocide is the systematic destruction of a group of people because of their race, ethnicity, or religion. In the us, too many black people have died for crimes they did not do. We call this a racial genocide as many of them from the same race was killed. For example, according to the article Black Agenda Report, the Martinsville seven were seven black men who died in the state of Virgnia's electric chair for a rape they never committed. Black genocide still occurs under color of law.
Sources:
3 notes · View notes
caramella120 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
No sleep just them. I can't... they are so cute
2K notes · View notes
Julieta: How's having your own actual kids?
Félix: Horrible. I never knew something could cry so much. It never stops.
Julieta: Oh, well, the kid will grow out of it eventually, right?
Félix: Oh no, the kid's great. She hardly ever cries.
Julieta: But I thought-
Pepa, sobbing while holding Dolores: FÉLIX, I LOVE HER SO MUCH.
2K notes · View notes
primalsouls · 3 years
Note
gaah I only found 2 poly reki x reader x langa fics, one of which was yours, loved it!! that's why i'm here to ask if you could give some more of that <3
poly reki x reader x langa supremacy, amiright? 🥰 anyway, im happy you loved it! :D so ask and you shall receive 🙌
also sorry it took a bit to answer ☠ hope you like it and enjoy! ty for requesting! 💖💖🫂
love between breaks
reki kyan x gn! reader x langa hasegawa
⚠️ : none
theme: fluff
≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪
Spring. The season with cold yet warm weather. Cherry blossom trees bloomed throughout Okinawa. But what came with spring was a break. A break Reli looked forward to spending it with his partners. [Y/N], his and Langa's lover, planned to visit the two of them during spring break. They studied aboard, settled in California, USA with their family. Reki and Langa met [Y/N] Last spring. Langa was the one who introduced them to Reki. He bumped into them when they were asking around for a place to exchange their currency. [Y/N] was so happy to meet someone who spoke English. The minute they stepped into Okinawa, the Japanese lessons they took for a few years left their head and they had a hard time trying to form a single sentence without butchering any of the words. Langa and [Y/N] instantly clicked when the young boy noticed the skateboard of theirs. He questioned if they liked to skate, to which they replied in an enthusiastic tone. It made Langa happy in return.
After their first meet, Langa and [Y/N] spent the break hanging out together at the skate park. It was on their second to last day when he introduced Reki to them. Reki got a bit jealous but when he saw them skated, his heart raced along. The same feeling Langa had felt when he first saw them skated. Now, every break they got, whether it be spring, summer, or winter, they visited Okinawa. It wasn't until the end if their last week of winter break that Langa and Reki confessed their love. They were both shocked when they blurted out their confession in front of [Y/N], who couldn't honestly pick on who to go out with.
But here they were now, three skaters dating each other. It was perfect to Reki, twice the kisses and affection felt nice. He didn't had to worry about who was cheating on who.
Reki chuckled, picking up his board from his bedside. He planned to meet Langa at skater park. Where they both thought to meet [Y/N]. He was excited. Even though it was only a few months since they left, it felt like a long time for Reki. Sure, they video called and texted each other whenever they could, due to time zones, he still missed them. Just like how Langa missed them much more.
Langa glanced up from his phone. His blue eyes met amber ones.
"Ah, Reki. Good morning." He said with a smile, leaning into the pole beside the park. "[Y/N] landed yesterday. They said they're coming down to meet us in a few minutes."
"Morning, Langa! And that's awesome! Aah, I missed them so much, I'm gonna pepper their face with my kisses!" Reki said, a determined glint in his eyes. Langa laughed softly, shaking his head.
"I heard from them that they got a new skateboard." Langa pointed out. Reki rose a brow. He didn't heard that from them and they always spoke to each other in a three-way video call, most of the time that is.
"Huh? Really? They didn't mention anything like that." Reki muttered, scratching the back of his head. Langa shrugged, no reason coming to mind.
As they waited for their lover, the boys practiced some tricks they saw throughout S. [Y/N] had yet to learn about their night activities. They always questioned why they were doing up so late when they talk through the call. The boys always make up an excuse or try to change the subject. S wasn't something to spoke openly with them, the boys agreed on that. Sure, [Y/N] was a great skater but Reki didn't want them going to S in case Adam was there. That was one reason he kept to himself, though. The other reason he agreed with Langa was to keep them safe from going against stronger opponents.
"Yahoo~! Practicing without me~?" They heard a familiar voice they missed so much. Reki and Langa stopped their movements right away. Their head snapped to the direction of the voice that [Y/N] feared they got a whiplash. Their eyes widen when they landed on [Y/N]. A wide grin was on the [h/c]-colored skater. A hand wave excitedly above them before they skated their way to the duo. "Hi! Did ya miss-augh!" [Y/N] screamed as they were tackled off their board, slipping off from it and fell on the ground with the other boys on top of them, their weight adding to theirs. "Oof! H-hey, get off!" They squirmed under Reki and Langa, catching their breathe.
"You're here!"
"[Y/N], I missed you!"
They heard from the both skaters. A chuckle left their lips as they pulled their arms out from under them with a little struggle and patted their backs. Langa and Reki grinned, sighing in content. They were happy to see their partner.
"I missed you, guys, too." [Y/N] said softly, planting a kiss on each their forehead. The boys got off from them, letting them sit up on the ground with them. Their skateboards grouped up together from a few feet away. "Anyway, how you guys been? Anything new that happened?"
"Miya scratched Reki on the face." Langa said blankly. It brought a giggle from them. Reki gasped, pouting.
"Hey! He started it! I asked if he wanted to skate but he was too busy playing on his game. So, I took it off his hands and next thing I know, I got three scratch marks on my face!" Reki recounted, crossing his arms as he let out a huff. [Y/N] bit back a laugh, shaking their head.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't had taken his game away." They scolded him, waving their index finger with their lips puckered out. Reki rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a smile but found it difficult to do so.
"Whatever, what about you? How you been?" Reki asked.
[Y/N] shrugged, looking at the ground as their fingers traced around the stitches of their pants. "I don't know... My board broke back home, so a friend of mine made me a new one. The skatepark is also getting a new feature added. Other than that, school is biting my ass and my parents are thinking of moving." They said dismissively. Langa and Reki blinked.
"Wait, what? Your parents are moving? To where?" Langa asked. [Y/N] shrugged once more, looking down to stop them from seeing a grin blooming on their face.
"Hey, [N/N], tell us where you moving? Does that mean you won't be visiting us anymore?" Reki said, his brows knitted down. Eyes filled with worries. Langa tried to look into their eyes. They shook their head at Reki's questions. A hand of theirs hovered on their mouth as they looked back up at their boyfriends. Reki and Langa wore identical confused expressions. It made them want to laugh but they desperately tried to hold it back in.
"I'm, I'm still gonna visit you guys..." Reki and Langa sighed in relief at the clarification. "Everyday." They blinked, minds pausing as the word registered into their head. When they looked up, a bright smile was on their partner's face. It took them a second for the words to click in.
"Oh! You're moving to Okinawa!?" Their boyfriends asked together. It freaked them out a bit but they nodded anyway. [Y/N]'s smile widen as they saw their eyes beamed up at the realization.
"Ah! That's awesome, [Y/N]! Now we can see each other everyday!" Reki said as he got up from his spot and jumped excitedly with both fists pumping the air. Langa nodded, looking happy as well. "We're gonna go on so many dates and skate together! Oh! Does that means you'll go to our school, too?" When they nodded, Reki yelled out with glee. "We get to eat lunch together!"
"Wait, when are you moving?" Langa asked, looking at them with a brow raised.
"Today."
Langa blinked, looking at Reki who froze.
"Today!?"
"You guys really need to stop talking at the same time, it's getting freaky."
"That's not the point! You moved in today!? Why didn't you say anytime before hand?" Reki bombed them with questions after questions.
"Reki, Reki... Calm down. We get our answers later. They're gonna live with us now. So, how about we skate and then later we can go out to some udon." Langa offered. [Y/N] grinned along with Reki. Reki walked over to get his board while Langa and [Y/N] got up from the ground and joined him.
"You know what's best about living in Okinawa?" [Y/N] asked, earning a couple of questioned stares from their boyfriends. They smiled as they planted a kiss on their cheeks before backing away. "Kisses everyday!" With that, they skated out of the park with a blush on their face. Langa and Reki's faces were decorated with a blush as well.
"Hey! Wait! You're supposed to kiss on the lips!" Reki shouted, going after them. Langa snapped out of his daze and joined in, laughing while he skated behind them, a bright smile on his face as he watched his lovers from behind before he picked up his speed.
259 notes · View notes
pillow-anime-talk · 3 years
Text
boss.
synopsis: Doppo can finally rest. Why? Ohh, of course thanks to you.
# tags: scenario; company!au; strangers/?; crush culture; love at first sight; adult!y/n; lil bit drama and angst; fluff; plot twist; we believe in female reader supremacy; sfw
includes: female reader ft. doppo kannonzaka {hypmic}
Tumblr media
It was nearly 9 p.m. and Doppo should have been home for three hours, but more and more papers appeared on his dark-wooden desk. The young man wanted to cry so badly, but he also knew that he couldn’t do it because he was very afraid of losing this silly job. So he nodded to another person who gave him their share of the documents, and then proceeded to further sort and fill them out.
He didn’t even notice the smooth hand that took one piece of paper from the top and picked it up so that making it easier to read the signs and tables written on it.
“Mhm... Mr. Aizawa? I think this section of the documents is your part of duties.”
The brown-haired man jumped up on his chair and only when he raised his head he notice a woman leaning against his desk; perhaps a few years younger than him, perhaps his age. The fact was, however, that she was slightly shorter than him, and at the same time really cute. Although the suit she was wearing in seemed to add sex appeal and domination rather than sweetness and color.
“Huh? Sorry, but who are you to remind me of what I should be doing?” The dark-haired, middle-aged man who had placed a pile of black and white papers on Doppo’s desk a second ago laughed under his breath as he put his hand on his hip. “I’m in a hurry to go home, and Mr. Kannonzaka will surely be happy to do everything on my behalf, right?”
“W-Well... I...” He started softly, but you waved your hand at him and he immediately stopped talking.
“Everyone in this company would love to come home to rest, eat something warm, to meet family or friends. You are no exception, Mr. Aizawa. I would also like to go out for a drink or watch my favorite series. But life isn’t fair and everyone must complete their duties to the end in order to be able to enjoy rest and time with loved ones. Of course, for all this to make sense, a person must do everything on their own, and not count on the help of others around. I think you are old enough to understand my words.” You smiled at him as you put the paper down, then folded your arms over your chest. “Please take these folders back to your desk and fill them up without the help of Mr. Kannonzaka, who should have finished his work a long time ago, but for some reason he still hasn’t done so... I wonder why?”
“Listen, you little la...”
“Better think about what you want to say, because you could lose your job faster than you think.” You started in a calm tone, at which the man laughed even louder than a few moments ago.
He walked three steps forward, coming face to face with you, then snorted straight at your forehead, making you close your eyes for a moment, breathing steadily and slowly.
“You think I’m afraid of the words of an ordinary worker like you? Who are you to speak to me in this tone, Missy?”
Your body moved forward and your finger landed on the chest of a much older man. You looked him in the eye for a moment, then you tilted your head. Doppo was watching your actions all the time, fearing for your person.
After all... The employees in this company weren’t the nicest. The boss too. But you...? You completely felt no fear, your face was devoid of all emotions except self-confidence. Your breathing was calm, and in addition, after a short while, your lips curved into a faint smile. It was interesting. 
As interesting as your next words.
“... I’m your new boss, Mr. Aizawa. From now on, this building and all yours jobs belong to me, and you can forget about a promotion and further work in the office. You are relegated to the position of a cleaner.” A strong smile was still on your pretty face, and everyone on the second floor choked on the air. Even Doppo felt a strange feeling in his heart that at first he couldn’t explain. “But please, finish filling the paperwork you left on Mr. Kannonzaka’s desk. And if I see again that someone isn’t doing their duties and outsourcing them to someone else, then you too can say goodbye to good references, raises and positions in this company. I can assure you that insubordination may end up with no further work for me or other companies. So back to job, everyone and have a great night.” You added by stepping away from the older guy and back to the Doppo’s desk, who was looking at you like at the eighth wonder of the world.
You smiled at the sight of it, winking at him, then rested your hip against his desk again, staring at his tired, but also incredibly handsome face.
“It took a long time, huh?” You asked softly, and he nodded uncertainly. He was about to say something and thank you for everything, but you continued. “I give you a paid vacation of two weeks. If you need anything, I’m always on the phone. Here.” You quickly handed him your white business card, and then corrected the jacket that would perfectly fit your body. “Go to home. Have a nice evening and see you in two weeks.”
As you walked towards your private office, Doppo slowly rubbed his both eyes, thinking that what had just happened was one, big but also beautiful imagination. However, when he was still able to see you walking, he immediately felt his cheeks turn the color of ripe tomatoes and his heart begins to beat again strangely, even dangerously fast.
Brunet might have been a workaholic and he might have had zero social life since childhood, but he was well aware that the positive feelings in his body weren’t just caused by vacation and an early (for him) return home, but by something much more serious.
And he couldn’t wait to go back to the company to see your slight smile again and a proud look that was accentuated with black eyeliner and long mascara.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
239 notes · View notes
wolf-zer0 · 3 years
Text
Ya want some WORLD-BUILDING????
Have some world-building!
*REMINDER* This is based on characters, not real people.  I’m not going to be writing any shipping/smut content, especially involving minors.  Please be respectful of content creators’ boundaries!
The Crystallos Empire (AKA the Antarctic Empire)
Largest the countries (takes up most of the southern half of the map) but agreed to stop expansion after a bloody battle with Valeriana 
Centered on a large snowy mountain in the middle of the tundra 
Mostly stays out of other countries’ business, but will step in as a last resort 
Has some of the most well-known citizens in the world because… they’re pure chaos 
Attack at your own peril 
Has vast deposits of ores and gemstones, and the metalwork from Crystallos (mainly weaponry, armor, and jewelry) is highly sought after 
The only known food export is potatoes.  Wonder why… 
Associated Colors: Royal blue, light blue, crimson, gold 
Aesthetic/Vibes: gothic vibes, white stone and large stain glass windows, not particularly opulent or extravagant but still impressively royal looking, think catholic cathedral but brighter and with less Jesus (can you tell I’m a recovering catholic yet?), spires shooting into the sky that’s visible even during a blizzard, cavernous halls full of sunlight and echoes, snow that can comfort and kill in equal measure
Notable Members:
Philza Minecraft:
Angel
Visible wings look like a harpy eagle
Probably the most powerful person in the world
Didn’t mean to start an empire it kinda just happened
Also didn’t mean to adopt kids but his Dadza alarm went off
Usually kind but will not hesitate to use violence when necessary
Technoblade: 
Is pig.  
With braid.  
At least 8 feet all
Extremely adept fighter, skilled in almost every form of combat.  
Not a people pig, prefers his potato farm to being a prince
Hella protective of his family but will not hesitate to bully when given the opportunity
Wilbur Soot: 
Muse who can influence people through song
Can’t totally control people (yet) but can subtly push them in a certain direction
The public face of the imperial family
Would rather insult than fight but can and will cut a bitch if he needs to
Because inspiration is fickle he’ll have some … strange episodes (see: the Sand Incident)
Tommy Innit: 
Child.  
Chaos incarnate.
Is he human?  Is he not?  No one’s sure yet.  
But he’s a gremlin and a hellion and willing to throw down at any moment.  
Has a surprisingly caring side, but no one outside his immediate circle has ever really seen it.  
The Kingdom of Valeriana (aka Dream SMP)
Oldest of the countries 
Located in the middle of a massive forest at the center of the main continent 
Home of the Fae Courts
Ruled by a single king who is chosen by a tournament held every 100 years 
Known for causing chaos in other countries, but after an Incident with Crystallos they have kept their meddling to annoyances rather than outright declarations of war 
Considered the most magical of all the countries, and traditional enchantments almost all come from Valeriana 
Associated Colors: neon green (duh), bright yellow, forest green, light brown, blood red (more saturated than Crystallos), rose gold 
Aesthetic/Vibes: spooky art nouveau (idk what else to call it), lots of plants and nature but with an edge of danger, poison gardens and carnivorous plants, hedge mazes that lead everywhere and nowhere, laughter deep in the forest, deer with eyes just a hair too human, Alice in Wonderland on steroids 
Notable Members: 
Dream: 
Current king of the Fae
As long as he’s touching the ground, he knows where everything and everyone is
Can terraform
Unlimited in the boundaries of his kingdom
Much more limited outside of his realm
No one has ever seen what he really looks like, even before he took the throne
Since people outside the kingdom don’t know who he is, he’ll wander the outside world and challenge random people to fights
Never says what happens to the losers
Only one person has ever beaten him: Technoblade
He might have a lil obsession around Techno, but it’s fine.  
A little competition is healthy.
Sapnap:  
High Lord of the Summer Court
Dream’s right hand man
Likes fire a little too much probably
George: 
Human that Dream took a liking too and yoinked from the mortal world
Dream and Sapnap made him immortal but he hasn’t realized it yet.  
Skeppy: 
Changeling who started growing diamond-like scales across his body
Is vaguely allied with Dream simply because he’s Fae, but is more loyal to BBH
Like a lot of other Fae, likes to make challenges but he makes them less deadly.  Not totally safe, just less deadly.
Badboyhalo: 
Demon who was kicked out of hell because he was too nice
Found Skeppy in the Overworld and the rest is history
Cursed by the Demon King that the moment he says a swear word, the entire world would end, but can never tell anyone that he is cursed
The Merchant’s Guild
Not quite a country, more of a international power 
Oversees the largest and most important businesses in the world 
Makes sure that no laws are broken between different countries and everyone gets a fair shake 
Has a very large reach, so some members have dabbled in espionage for various groups 
From the outside it looks like the whole thing is kept together with duct tape and hope, but its actually pretty functional
The main members are just… a lot. 
More concerned with keeping things working than influencing other nations (although there are still jokes about it) 
The most valuable thing they trade in is information
They have a lot of fingers in a lot of pots, but are trusted with their information 
Associated Colors: dark blue, teal, deep yellow, burnt orange, copper
Aesthetic/Vibes: art deco babie, angles and lines, very modern and streamlined, sleek suits instead of armor or robes, whiskey in a crystal glass, wars won by words not weapons, knowing when someone’s lying without them saying a word
Notable Members:
Schlatt: 
Ram-man with a plan
Not that bad of a dude, but is in a position where he is constantly in possession of highly sensitive information and that does things to someone’s mental state
Drinks pretty regularly but not a full blown alcoholic
Trying his best
Can be a snarky asshole sometimes
Quackity: 
Lucky duck.  literally.  
Duck man with an uncanny ability to absorb good luck from people (typically Fundy) and apply it to himself
No one knows when or why he joined the guild, but now he’s there
Pretty damn smart, but hides it behind humor
Fundy: 
FOX!  
With BEANS!
Trying his goddamn best but life (and Quackity) make it very difficult
Usually is stuck with the shit end of the stick when getting jobs/contracts/etc. 
Wilbur being his dad is an inside joke that’s gotten a life of its own.  
(No Fishfuckers Allowed!!!)
Puffy: 
Badass sheep lady who captains a ship and commands her own armada
Schlatt’s sister
Also part of Storm’s Landing’s council and acts as the main liaison between them 
Do not fuck with her she will kick your ass.
Storm’s Landing
Port city that became a country after becoming a safe-haven for seafarers
Led by a council of important people, with the head of the council known as the Admiral 
Closest ties to Crystallos and the Merchant’s guild because: 
1) Clingy supremacy!!!!
2) it’s a good idea for a guild to have good ties with a large sea power
3) all the dads for Tubbo
Associated Colors: navy blue, scarlet, white, brass 
Aesthetic/Vibes: Nautical (obviously) with heavy “Age of Exploration” vibes, barnacles crusted on treasure chests, think tall ships and pirates and shit, respecting the ocean because holy shit she’s gonna smash your boat to pieces on a whim because she can, has an edge of darkness because when you go deep enough who knows what you’ll find down there (maybe mermaids???) 
Notable Members:
CaptainSparklez: 
elected to Admiral after the previous Admiral went missing on a routine voyage 
(idk who it used to be, I just wanted to make him new at leading)
not 100% sure about the whole thing, but handling it pretty okay
still answers to “Captain” instead of “Admiral”.  
Niki:
If Storm’s Landing had a queen, would be it unquestionably
Never gets robbed even though there’s a well known “underbelly” in town
Could probably end wars with her croissants
Has a significant history of empathic abilities in her family, so she can tell how people are feeling at all times
Eret: 
Owns a magic store in town that really only shows itself to people who need it.  
Having a bad mental health day?  
He’s got a warm blanket and a cup of your favorite warm beverage waiting.  
Dysphoric?  
She’s got the perfect outfit and affirming words already prepared.  
Trying to find that specific book but can’t remember the title or plot, only vaguely know the color of the cover?  
They’ve got it.  
Ranboo:  
Not sure why he decided to move to a seaside city when he’s not chill with water, but now he’s here and he’s too anxious to leave
Known for teleporting around town randomly when nervous, and the people who find him are always willing to let a hand if he gets lost
Tubbo: 
This boi!  Has so many dads!  
Epitome of “Kindness does not equal weakness.”  
While a lot of people underestimate him, he’s not some fragile little flower
He hasn’t fully grown into his ability to speak to animals (he can only understand bees right now)
He’s just as much of a shit stirrer as Tommy.  
When they meet up, look out.  Something’s getting destroyed.
The Astral Academy
An independent university focused on advancing knowledge in the arcane arts and engineering 
Not a country, but has the political power of one due to their vast resources and building prowess 
People can’t enter unless they are invited or have been given entry as a student 
There are a bunch of potential doors scattered around the continent that could lead to the Academy, but no one is sure where the real entrance is 
Associated Colors: royal purple, lilac, sepia, sky blue, silver, bronze Aesthetic/Vibes: bright academia, massive libraries with bookshelves stuffed to bursting, workshop benches covered in scrap and prototypes, open air observatories, runes waiting to be translated, the crackling energy that comes from successful collaboration, falling down a research rabbit hole, bursting with pride after a project is a success
Notable Members: 
Sam
Purpled
Ponk
Punz
Antfrost
Jack Manifold
I don’t know much about these characters, so if you have any ideas please let me know!
Zero’s OC Land - The North Haven
Smallest and newest country 
Recently gained independence from under a cruel dictator (not schlatt lol)
Located in a pine forest at the base of a huge mountain range 
Has pretty good relations with the other countries, but outsiders don’t know much about them 
Main exports are wood carvings and leather goods 
Associated Colors: Maroon, dark brown, black, pewter 
Aesthetic/Vibes: medieval but with a modern twist, dark wood lit by a roaring fireplace, snow-covered woods without a living soul in sight, half timber houses and detailed wood carving, no outrageous ornamentation or extravagance 
Notable Members:
Tyr: 
Lord of the North Haven
trying to keep his people safe and protected
one of the few remaining Spirits (higher in power than the Fae, but lower than angels)
Spirit of Justice
lost a hand in the war for North Haven’s independence
didn’t want to become the leader but does a pretty good job at it
Adopted 5 kids and is trying his best
Bragi: 
Heir Apparent
24 year old human
can influence the world by speaking (not singing) but has to be careful about which words he uses
has a book full of phrases that have proven effects (a spellbook of sorts)
has a friendly rivalry with Wilbur
Freya: 
Spymaster
actually the oldest but abdicated because she feels she’s not the right person to lead a country
age unknown because she’s the last known [REDACTED] (it’ll be revealed, but I wanna build suspense)
has gyrfalcon wings and heightened senses
chronic insomniac
Forseti: 
Official Librarian
20 years old
hybrid with an unknown entity
has black fingers with sharp claws
always wears gloves to hide them
can create portals to places he’s been or to people he knows (the second is much riskier, but not impossible)
knowledge sponge
wants to join the Astral Academy but is too nervous to apply
Odin: 
Older Twin
The “Sensible One”
17 years old
Has an uncanny sense of direction
Can’t get lost no matter what
Can manipulate magnetic fields
Loki:
Younger Twin
The “Hot Headed One”
17 years old
can manipulate fire
idolizes his older siblings, particularly Freya
The Institute
Creeping around in the background
Up to bad things
Something’s going on in the world, but no one’s noticed yet
They will though… soon
Aesthetic/Vibes: minimalism (the worst kind of vibes imo), think laboratories or empty hospitals, harsh artificial lights and cold floors, labyrinths of monotonous hallways with no doors
99 notes · View notes
clxser · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
〔 oscar isaac, 42, cis man, he/him ) julio de león was seen listening to warm healer by everything everything. lio is a trauma surgeon and known to be patient & gruff. ( rosie, 22, gmt, she/they )
further information under the cut;
TW: Homophobia, surgery, death, grief, military action, injury
BASIC INFORMATION:
FULL NAME:  Julio de León
NICKNAME(S): Lio
BIRTH DATE: April 7th
AGE: 42
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aries
GENDER: Cis Man
PRONOUNS: He/Him
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Homoromantic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual
OCCUPATION: Trauma Surgeon
BACKGROUND:
BIRTH PLACE: Guatemala City, Guatemala
HOMETOWN: Guatemala City, Guatemala
PARENTS: Aleja de León
SIBLING(S): None
CHILDREN: Edith (8), Ivy (5), Laurence (25, Step-son)
PET(S): None
OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: Cheryl Beauregard (Second-cousin)
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS:
FACE CLAIM: Oscar Isaac
EYE COLOR: Brown
HAIR COLOR: Salt-and-pepper
GLASSES/CONTACTS?: Glasses at home, contacts at work
DOMINANT HAND: Right
HEIGHT: 5’7”
BUILD: Somewhat stocky, DILF supremacy
TATTOOS: None
PIERCINGS: None
MARKS/SCARS: Several over his chest and arms
NOTABLE FEATURES: N/A
PERSONALITY TRAITS:
POSITIVE: Patient, Reliable, Compassionate
NEGATIVE: Gruff, Standoffish, Guarded
ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral
MBTI: ISFJ-A
TEMPERMENT: Choleric
EXTRAS:
HOBBIES: Fitness, Reading, Gardening, Sewing
HIDDEN TALENT(S): Thanks to plenty of suturing, he’s pretty good with a needle, and can sew a hem with his eyes closed.
BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: Graduating from Edinburgh
BIGGEST REGRET: Enlisting
MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: Being caught in his first relationship
FAVOURITE MEMORY: The births of his daughters
BIOGRAPHY:
In his earliest years, Julio was comfortable. He was an only child to a doting mother and a hard-working, if a little distant, father. Though the man was strict, perhaps more strict than Julio or his mother would have liked at times, but they would soon learn his reasons for this.
The memories Julio has of his father are few and far between. Each one of them is hazy except for the last; he can remember being balanced on his mother’s hip, calling out for him to stay and play a little while longer before he left on his trip. His dad was hard at work, she told the little boy - he was a doctor, and he needed to go and make people better. Little Julio couldn’t understand the difference between this, and the times his father would go to work, aside from the white coat he would usually only wear for the latter.
He was five that day, and he never saw his father after it.
A few days passed before he could tell something was wrong. It was maybe a week later that his mother started drawing the blinds, and they stopped seeing their friends. She was scared of everything all of a sudden, and that made Julio scared, too. It was only when she told him they couldn’t turn the lights on anymore, and could never open the curtains, that he first wondered if they really were in trouble. One day, there was a banging at the door, with a man shouting so loudly on the other side that his mother covered his ears as they hid behind the couch. He can remember how tightly she clutched onto him, and how small she seemed in that moment, and the wet feeling of her tears, sliding from her cheeks to his temple. They stayed there for a long time after the banging stopped, and it wasn’t long after that when she told him they would be going away for a long time.
He was too little to understand the realities of the war at six, or who his father had risked his life to provide aid to, or why he was killed for it, but he felt the aftershock nonetheless. They arrived in England to stay with distant family on his mother’s side, and although she promised they could go back some day, he could tell from the distant look in her eye that it was a hollow sentiment. She could never go back there.
It was tough to be in a country where he spoke so little of the language, but there were kind people around. People who looked at him with large, sad eyes, who treated him like something fragile. He didn’t like that, it made him feel small, but at least they were patient with him. Cheryl was the first to break him out of that box. They were family, apparently, although he couldn’t quite see how - she didn’t know a thing about him - but she cared all the same. She sat by him as he sulked during lunchtimes and tried to rope him into games with her friends, even though they were older, and even though he was too self-conscious of the snickering whenever he mispronounced a word. He understood Cheryl was a kind person. In later years, he would come to understand that she was his second-cousin through an elaborate pattern of marriages, and that she was his best friend.
When he was 11, and moving into secondary school, Julio had adjusted to his new life, but his mother hadn’t. She still couldn’t bare to have the curtains open, and even worse, she could barely look at Julio anymore. He looked too much like his father - who she could never bring herself to talk about. More seeds of tension were sown each time she brushed off one of his questions, which culminated in a fight on his 13th birthday, where he announced his birthday wish was to be a doctor like his dad when she grew up. The woman broke down into tears, and once his few party guests had left, she gave him a letter that she’d apparently hidden for years.
Those trips his father had taken so often were work after all, but not the kind he told everybody he did. The letter was long, and more emotional than he ever remembered his father being, and detailed why he’d written it in the first place. They were lucky in Guatemala City; being a doctor paid well, and afforded them a lot of privilege, but that privilege came from a bad place. Whenever he could, his father would travel to the rural areas where the civil war saw its bloodiest combat, and do what he could to heal the sick and wounded. It seemed that, upon being found out for this, his father was killed.
For the first time, Julio saw a glimpse of his mother’s true pain, and felt the loss of his father more than he ever had before. It was the first time he had gotten to know the kind of person he was missing in his life, and while he held his bawling mother and promised him he would be careful for her, and his father’s memory, he couldn’t help but reassess the kind of man he wanted to be.
It was the perfect age, after all, for discovering the kind of man he was. Other teenage frivolities started to feel trivial in the face of that knowledge, but he found himself wrapped up in them all the same. Apparently, he was a rather good-looking young man - a fact that only occurred to him when he found out that Emily B and Emily D from his maths class had been sent out in the hall for arguing over him. It was funny - he had never paid the two girls more than civil attention, but he couldn’t help but notice that the boy who had leaned between their desks to whisper this to him smelled nice, and had dimples when he laughed.
Though Julio’s promise to his mother still lingered, he couldn’t help but feel a draw when the cadets came to his school, handing out leaflets and making other promises, ones that tempted him. They saw his sense of duty to others, and a hunger to find his purpose helping others, and decided to take advantage of that. It would boost his confidence, prepare him for life, help him to make friends - and, hey, if he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, there were plenty of opportunities in the army.
That was something he kept a secret from his mother for years. He kept other secrets too, like his growing attraction to one of his fellow cadets, a boy with sandy hair and blue eyes and a similar sense of compassion. They became close, and made a habit of getting closer still - it wasn’t until their instructor caught them hugging in the changing rooms after all the other boys had left that they realised what an issue that might be. He wouldn’t tell anyone, he said, but they could be in a whole heap of trouble if he did - especially in the army. If they persisted, for their own safety, he might have to tell their parents. Julio didn’t fight it - the thought of his mother finding out he was there at all was too much to bare. The other boy persisted, though, and Julio didn’t see him at cadets after that.
That bitter conversation came when he graduated. There were no words for the look of pain in his mother’s eyes when he told her that, not only did he want to be a doctor too, but that the UK’s military had taken enough of an interest in him and his grades to put him through medical school on their own dime. It was an intense argument that left both of their voices raw and their eyes red and blotchy, but she couldn’t stop him. She hurt him, though. Her final declaration of “you cannot honour your father this way” would haunt him for years to come, for more reasons than he could understand in that moment.
He began his studies at the University of Edinburgh, and devoted himself to the work of medicine. There were friends and boyfriends in between, but none of them took precedent over his plans. He was going to help people. Somehow, some way, he was going to do as much good for the world as his father did. The politics behind the UK’s military affairs were beyond him, and too exhausting to comprehend in the wake of his studies - but that lack of forethought would come to haunt him later too.
They told him, of course, that they were in the right. The Iraq war was supposedly a necessary evil, and he would be there to heal, not to hurt. He was utterly convinced, at that point, that he was in the right.
Medical school was one beast, but army training was another. It was brutal, and doubt began to creep in - but he persevered. He couldn’t have possibly come so far if it wasn’t his duty, could he? That was something he reminded himself of whenever a sergeant screamed obscenities in his face of his cohort mocked him, with or without realising they were doing it. He wasn’t, and he was gay - two big no-no’s amongst his ranks.
His first tour was worse. He had been in practice for a long time, but seeing combat was something else. The battle didn’t end once they found the medical tent; Julio sustained plentiful injuries from his service, and performed procedures with anything from brutal conditions to insufficient, improvised equipment. Losing them was the worst. There were boys as young as 18 on his operating table, with screams that shook him to his core and stuck with him long after their last breaths.
Becoming numb took work. Years of it. He would have to serve for a minimum of 4, after all, and he didn’t know a moment of peace for any of them.
It wasn’t until a fateful operation during his 5th year that Julio realised he couldn’t continue any longer. Usually, they kept him behind - he was among their most skilled surgeons, and led his own team by that point - but he was called forward to serve as first aid during an operation. They came across a young girl, injured and suffering in the wake of their actions, and he was stopped from helping her with a firm hand on his shoulder, and a warning of disciplinary action.  Outraged, he insisted on getting her out of the crossfire, and only managed to avoid more serious punishment thanks to the support of a handful of the soldiers - although there were plenty who opposed. For that procedure, he spent the entirety questioning everything he devoted his life to, and a handful of months later when he had his leave, he decided to end his time at the army altogether.
He wasn’t the same man. He had proven his mother right, let his father down, and perhaps dedicated years of his life to something evil. An obsession came from his guilt, of studying the effects that war was having, and the significant harm it was doing aside from any good. He couldn’t protest - how could he possibly have the right? - but he could withdraw himself from the wider world for its own good.
Somehow, his loved ones cared for him all the same. His mother would insist on combing his hair still, and Cheryl would stop by at least once a week to keep him from getting too gloomy. She would bring her little boy, too, a new addition to her life that he grew deeply fond of, as well as other things to occupy his interest. Books. Ones he went through like water in the desert, written with prose that made him feel like he could perhaps be gentle again, and that there was light in the world despite its darkness. He was gay too, apparently, which Cheryl announced one day with a confusing nonchalance - as if it was fine. That, to his own surprise, was when Julio told her he might be too.
She had been talking about setting him up for years, but of course, all of the women she’d hoped to introduce him to were never going to pique his interest. Truthfully, he wasn’t too eager to be set up with a man either, but she promised that he’d be interested in who she chose with such determination that he wouldn’t dare to refuse.
Julio was hard to love, but Rhett? Rhett was a breath of fresh air. He was handsome, and kind, and although Julio was standoffish at first as he was with most things, but they clearly interested one another, and so things snowballed from there. It wasn’t until Julio caught himself cleaning his flat and humming to himself, or perusing open positions in Glasgow hospitals, just for the possibility of reducing that pesky commute between them, that he realised he was in deep. He was not a complete man, he still had a lot of healing to do and amends to make, but he was in love. Some days, that was enough.
By the time their wedding came around, he felt much closer to the man he had always wanted to become. He was in a position of authority at the hospital, leading and mentoring others, and closer to starting the family he had always missed. Being a step-father was an honour too, and he did his best to stand by Laurence as any dad would when he came to stay.
When Rhett was offered a teaching position in Canada, of all places, Julio was shocked - but fully supportive. It was a sudden change in trajectory, but Rhett had been a rock for him for so many years while he recovered from the aftereffects of seeing combat, a comforting hold between nightmares and a calm voice of reassurance when he began to linger too long on his regrets, and so Julio knew it was his turn. They moved to Huntsville, and their lives began anew.
Once they were settled, and Julio finished getting his credentials in order to practice in Canada, their family grew yet again. Edith and Ivy, all of a sudden, were the most precious thing in his life. Julio was a reserved man, and so he’d never seen himself as the look-at-these-pictures-of-my-kids-in-my-wallet type, but there he was, showing them off to anybody who made the mistake of lingering too long in the break room with him.
Still, there was more to be done. He lived a privileged life once again, the same kind he knew his father had in his infancy, and so Julio couldn’t shake the feeling that he ought to be doing more. He wanted to be a part of his children’s lives as long as possible, but he still wanted them to see the kind of good they could do in the world. With that thought, he began the first proceedings of launching a charity. He was a busy man, of course, and had partners (WC!) to help him lead the charge - but whatever free time he had that his family didn’t need went towards the organisation.
Now, at 42, Julio wonders if he’ll ever feel like he’s done enough to fill that shadow - and knows he’ll spend the rest of his days trying to.
3 notes · View notes
thesundanceghost · 3 years
Text
@elicash tagged me to do this and I’m finally home relaxing so lets do it
nicknames - never really had one stick, “Emma” is too easy to just say at once. Like sometimes my family will shorten it to Em, but very rarely, it’s just as easy to say the whole thing
zodiac - Taurus (and Leo moon/ Libra rising, according to costar, because no matter how many times I read that I will forget it instantly). I don’t really know anything about astrology but I do firmly believe that my sign is the best one
height - 5’3” and I hate it
last movie - Can’t remember if it was Macbeth 2015 or Butch & Sundance, I’m getting my days confused. I didn’t actually finish Macbeth tho the whole time I was just wishing I was reading the play :/ I’m biased against movie adaptations of Shakespeare I guess
last thing I googled - “Atlantic hurricane”
fave musician - you guys probably don’t know this but I would let Joan Osborne do literally whatever she wants to me. don’t know if I think Relish (1995) is the best album of all time but I do think its the sexiest.
song stuck in my head - Candy by the Blasting Company
other blogs - none that i still use
blogs following - I can’t remember how to check and I’m too lazy to try but I’ve been on this fucking site since 2012 and rarely unfollow people so lets just assume “too many”
amount of sleep - I am a firm believer of 7h sleep supremacy
lucky number - none
what I’m wearing - jeans and a bra (my normal lounge wear)
dream job - i hate jobs so much. But idk I’d love to do any editing work remotely, and also do some farm/fishing work, I personally enjoy manual labor
dream trip - Currently still dreaming about my still-theoretical road trip up the Atlantic coast. @benjhawkins has been giving me so many to-visit spots in Maine and I need to get there!!! As boring as it is most of my dream vacations are in the US, I think because it just seems like less stress for me, and when I dream about trips, that’s what I think about.
fave foods - Mango, and alfalfa sprouts. I made a jerk pork dish with grilled pineapple and a mango salsa and it was just so damn good. I also love a good stew or soup, like any kind honestly
play an instrument - Piano, although I haven’t done it seriously in years. Used to play viola and violin and I miss that. I can play guitar but like only simple chords
languages - English baby — can understand French and Spanish okay but I freeze up when I go to speak it.
fave songs - I know y’all are sick of hearing about it, but any song off of Relish. Literally got goosebumps listening to that album in the car yesterday. Also both Nina Simone and Jeff Buckley’s versions of Be My/Your Husband, that song really gets me.
random fact about me — I want to know more about taxidermy, not to like do it, I just think its cool and I know nothing about it
describe yourself by aesthetic things - uhhhhh idk linen? My dream closet is one that’s only made of linen. I mix a ton of silver and gold jewelry. My house is filled with tons of warm colors and southwestern/Mexican interior artwork and furniture. I am almost always in jeans unless its 100 degrees. My dream day is just fishing in a boat under the sun with a beer in my hand. I love fabric and mixing textures together is my favorite thing. I make myself overindulgent and overly complicated dinners where four things are cooking at once and I have six different timers set and red wine to drink. I don’t know if any of this counts as an aesthetic I’m just saying random shit……..
I have no idea who’s done this yet, but I’ll tag @satisfactuality @benjhawkins @benjaminagunn @cithaerons @starbuck @lupismaris and whoever else wants to do it!
10 notes · View notes
blondeblackwidow · 4 years
Note
Could you write a fic about the Resistance meeting a Kenobi!reader who used to be Snokes old apprentice, and over time Poe begins to fall for her? I love your writing and if you do choose to write this request, the fluffier the better❤️
Tumblr media
M e t a n o i a ( Poe Dameron x Reader )
prompt:  Could you write a fic about the Resistance meeting a Kenobi!reader who used to be Snokes old apprentice, and over time Poe begins to fall for her? I love your writing and if you do choose to write this request, the fluffier the better❤️ +  I’m the anon that sent the Kenobi!reader ask in, I forgot to say that the reader wasn’t Snokes apprentice willingly and she was taken as a child.
a/n; holy fuck i feel like i just poured my soul into this. this was something i played with a while on my own and i can’t get over how proud of it i am. thank you for this request, anon! i would zone out for hours just writing, and that hasn’t happen since like eighth grade. title is a greek word for a journey of self discovery.
song: the archer - taylor swift
t/w: slight mentions of child abduction and manipulation, very minor though.
w/c: 3150 ( omg )
-
D’Qar was loud, and the air was thick as it hit your skin. The sun hidden behind clouds, it was still considerably warmer than the Supremacy. You stepped off the transport, black boots hitting the pavement, the rest of you covered by the oversized brown robe. 
You’d never seen Leia Organa before. But you knew her son, and the minute you saw her eyes, you knew who she was.
You lowered your hood. “General.” You breathed with a smile. She greeted you with a handshake, and the most comforting of smiles. She radiated a motherly energy you had never known, not in this life at least. 
“Welcome, I’m so happy you got here safely, and you took me up on my offer.” 
“It seems our families can never live without each other.” You responded, and Leia gestured you further into the base. 
“Let’s talk in my office, and I’ll see about getting you something with some color.” She guided you amongst crowds. Her office was small by most standards, but felt comfortable and homely. She took a seat and you followed suit.
The air was tense, full of unanswered questions. 
“He’s alright, doing well, all things considered.” You offered, and her shoulders seemed to relax.
“You didn’t have to..” She started, and you waved your hand.
“It’s nothing, I know you must hold your breath everyday when it comes to him.” You spoke softly, as if people were listening. “He talked about you a few times, it was always brief, but he did.” 
“Thank you.” Leia reached out and squeezed your hand. The door opened behind you two and you saw a man, standing in the doorway, holding a wad of clothing.
“Ma’am Pava sent me in here with these.” He held up what looked like a shirt and pants. “She said you asked if she had spare uniforms?” 
“Well yes because she’s always in her pajamas or her flight suit.” Leia reached her hand out and he gave them to her, sparing you a cautionary glance. “All of black squadron seems to operate that way.” 
He opened his mouth to object, but she kept talking. “This is Poe Dameron, one of my top commanders and pilots.”
“THE top pilot, ma’am.” He turned to fully look at you, and you introduced yourself.
“She and I have family history.” Leia answered before Poe could ask. He didn’t take his eyes off you though.
“Have I met you before?” You swallowed thickly, clamming up to find a lie. You remembered him as soon as he started talking. 
“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you.” He struggled out to breathe.
“We’ll see.” Kylo said from in front of you, not yet aware that you had entered the room. The man you now know as Poe starts to scream.
“Ren, you’re needed by the supreme leader.” Most of your face covered by a hood, you avoid the curious gaze from the chair in front of you both.
“It’s in a droid, a BB unit.” He barked on his way out. You take one glance at the man before you leave, hesitating.
“No, I don’t believe we have.” You forced a smile. “It’s been a pleasure though.” You turned your gaze back to Leia, who cleared her throat.
“You’re excused, Commander.” He took a breath to object, but it died on his tongue. He offered a small smile and excused himself.
“I was there, when Ren…” You trailed off, staring at the now closed door. “How am I supposed to….”
“He may look tough, but he’s got his mother’s heart.” She sighed, standing and collecting a few more things. “He’ll understand, probably more than most.”
“I hope so.” Leia smiled and gestured toward the door. 
The quarters she gave you were smaller than yours on the Supremacy, but far less daunting. Glossy black walls had been replaced with cracked stone, this whole base a work in progress.The uniforms were more relaxed, and people smiled as you walked past, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that they saw right through you. Cracked foundations were held together by hope, maybe here, you thought, you could start to heal what Snoke shattered. 
You were going to go out and explore. You grabbed an old brown satchel, and went to place your saber inside. It was silver with a gold band around the emitter, black striping down the sides bleeding into the solid black band around the hilt, gold circles breaking up the darkness. Kylo thought little of it, said it looked too much like a Kenobi’s lightsaber. For once in your life though, you were happy you had something to remind you of the light that coursed through your veins. It would need a new crystal, the old one corrupted by the dark side, but that was a question for Leia at a later time.
The walk to the airfield was peaceful, on the ship, all you had was recycled air. But there was something about the breeze and the smell of wildflowers and trees. And if you were honest, the smell of the engines burning fuel was better than the nothingness that you had become accustomed to. 
Your eyes quickly set sight on the obnoxious X Wing that sat front and center. Black with an orange stripe, while it was Hux’s responsibility to know the specs of the Resistance, you knew that it was the ship that always meant trouble. You walked up to it and ran a hand down the side. The side panels were rough against your hand, but you liked it here, the perfection of the First Order became suffocating after a while.
“Can I help you?” A voice behind you asked. You turned to see the man from earlier, Poe, you think his name was. 
“Oh no, I’ve just never seen an X Wing in person before.” You laughed. “They’re just so legendary in my mind.”
“You a pilot?” He asked, walking closer. His black hair was messy, and there was grease on his orange flight suit.
You shook your head. “Oh no, my grandpa flew A Wings during the Clone Wars but other than that we’re a pretty ground bound family.” 
“Was your grandpa a clone?” Poe asked, and you furrowed your brows. 
“No?”
“Well because droids were used by the separatists and clones by the republic.” He laughed. “So unless your grandfather was a clone, that doesn’t work.” 
“There were civilians in the Republic.” You rolled your eyes. 
“I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders, you knew he didn’t buy it. But you were okay with it, it was something to talk about at another time. A reason to talk to him again.
“You have pilots in your family?” You asked, leaning against the warm metal of the body of the ship.
“Uh yeah, my mom.” He cleared his throat. “She flew A Wings.” He raised his finger to note the similarity. “But for the Rebels against the Empire.” 
“Sounds like a kickass woman.” You smiled. He shifted his weight and looked at his boots.
“Yeah, she was.” He smiled. You could sense the discomfort, and the loss. 
“So how long have you been with the Resistance?” 
“I’ve never met such a bold new recruit you know.” He laughed.
“Blame it on the family connection.” You laughed in return.
“What is the mysterious connection?” He asked, taking a step closer.
“Can’t give up all my secrets on the first day here.” You smirked. But how were you supposed to explain it all? Your father was a hidden bastard child from the days of Mandalore, your mother died before you could walk, you’re competition in training was the General’s son who was named after your grandfather who the General called to before Alderaan’s Doom – and that was just the surface level of it all.
“I’ll have to come bug you another time then.” You tried to hide the rising heat in your cheeks. 
“It’s a small base, you can come find me.” You smiled and pushed off the ship. “I’ll see you around.” 
“See you around, newbie.” You rolled your eyes, and kept walking.
You and Poe spent days on and off together, chatting, laughing, unknowingly being watched by Leia with a motherly smile. He radiated an energy unlike you had ever known, it was warm, and bright, and full of love. It was the light, the light that you were ordered to swear off for the rest of your days since you were a child. 
Leia felt like the mother you had never known. The both of you aching for something taken so long ago. You spent a lot of time with her, causing a lot of questions. 
Poe jumped to your defense everytime. Causing even more questions.
“Do you know where I can get a Kyber Crystal?” You piped up, reading in Leia’s private office while she worked.
“Why?” She just glanced up. You sighed.
“Mine won’t heal itself, no amount of meditation will ever make it change, not even to white. My blade still glows red.” You closed your book and turned to face her. A devilish grin grew on her face. “What?” 
“After Luke lost the temple, he gave his remaining crystals to someone he trusted for safekeeping against the rising order.” The grin grew more. 
“Where are they?”
“Yavin IV.” She smiled.
“Okay I’ll go to Yavin–”
“At Kes Dameron’s home.” Your jaw hit the floor. You felt like you had known Poe all your life, and maybe in another life you would have, but you really only knew him for a month or so. 
So now you had to ask to meet his dad, when you hadn’t even admitted to yourself you liked him. 
“I’m gonna have to ask him to go with me.” You breathed out, slightly nervous all of a sudden. 
“Relax, Poe needs to go home anyways, it’ll get Kes off my back.” You snorted. 
“And how do I approach that?” You started. Unaware of the door opening behind you. “Poe I need you to take me to your childhood home so I can get a crystal from your father because I secretly have a lightsaber and come from the lineage of a Jedi Master in the Old Republic, who trained both Vader and Luke?” You inhaled, unaware of how fast you were just talking. “I’m sure that’s a very easy question to ask.” 
“The answers’ yes, I just have a few questions first.” 
You thought you were gonna die right then and there.
The flight to Yavin wasn’t very long, but felt like years. The transport was small, Leia was unwilling to give up her large ships for the two of you. 
“So how long have you been a Jedi?” He asked, shifting the controls and turning to face you.
“I’m not a jedi.” You mumbled.
“Well you have a lightsaber. That’s a very jedi thing to have.” Of course in your oblivious confession, you didn’t include how you acquired the weapon.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” You got up from the copilots seat now that you were in Hyperspace, wanting to be anywhere but under his gaze. He grabbed your forearm to stop you, and your skin burned at the touch.
“I have met you before.” He whispered. “You were on that ship.” 
“I’m so sorry.” Your voice was broken full of shame. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Why were you there?” His eyes were locked on yours.
“I was a child, my father was on the run after Mandalore’s downfall. They caught us after a few years.” You sighed. “My father was killed, but Snoke knew of my lineage, said that because my grandfather created Vader, I had a capacity for greatness.” You shifted your weight and sat back into the chair. “I didn’t know the difference, I was so young, with this weird energy flowing through me that I couldn’t control.” 
“It’s okay.” He relaxed his hand and brought it back to his lap, you tried to hide your disappointment at the lack of touch. “You’re safe now.”
“Thank you.” You whispered, and you both sat in safe, comfortable silence before the ship made its entrance to the Yavin system.
Yavin IV, you’d come to realize, was a lot like D’Qar, luscious green trees and warm summer breeze. The Dameron home was a black and white contrast to anything you had known. Poe, on the other hand, doesn’t welcome the energy, instead tenses, as if he is in fear of what lies ahead.
“I’ll do the talking, if you want?” You offer, and Poe shakes his head.
“It’s alright.” He sighs. “How do you tell someone that the ideals they spent their life fighting are growing stronger everyday?”
“You tell them that there’s hope.” You smile softly. “Hope is the only thing you have that they don’t.” The weight of your blood red lightsaber seams to double, and none of this seems doable.
He starts to walk toward the house and you are left with no choice but to follow. He opens the door to find an older man with the same tone of skin, and same curly hair, faded now to a silver, working on something at the table. 
“Hey dad.” You want to hide behind Poe’s shadow.
How do you tell someone that the ideals they spent their life fighting are standing in front of them in their dining room?
“Poe!” He exclaimed with a smile, and gave his son a large hug. “Leia warned me you were coming. Who’s this?” He asked, returning to the neutral position.
“Oh this is Captain…” He trailed, remembering he’d never learned your last name.
“Kenobi.” You smiled, your chest swelling with pride at the surname you discarded so long ago. Recognition and surprise flashed among both men’s faces.
“I would assume you’re here for the crystals.” He winked.
“How did you…”
“A feeling, I guess.” He shrugged and began to search through a container, and Poe just mouthed your surname back to you with shock and wonder. You waved your hand to dismiss him. “Poe can you run this down to the lady down the road, the one who always gave you sweets after Shara said no?” He gestured to the project he was working on, and Poe opened his mouth to protest. 
But just like with Leia, it died long before he could manage words. He scooped it up and gave you an apologetic glance before leaving.
“Can I see it?” was the first thing Kes asked after his son’s departure.
“Y-Yeah.” You stumbled and pulled out the saber from your bag, handing it to him. He placed a small brown bag on the table with a quiet clink, and began to smile. 
“It resembles Luke’s second saber..” He looked at you. “Made with pieces of Ben Kenobis.” You couldn’t help but return the smile.
“It’s the same style, according to old texts.” You said. “Not exactly the same I’m afraid.” 
“What’s the need for a new crystal?” He handed it back.
“I..” You hesitated. Poe forgives so easily, but Leia said that was his mother, not Kes. “I was taken in by Snoke when I was young, trained..” You swallowed, staring at the saber in your hands. “I want to make things right, I can’t do that with red blades, the crystal is too broken to heal, I need to start anew.” Kes’ shoulders relaxed and he leaned against the table.
“I am sorry.” 
“For?”
“Had we done it right the first time, there never would have been a Snoke to corrupt your gift.” He smiled sadly, you reached for his hand and gave it a light squeeze.
“Had you done it the first time, I would have never met him.” You smiled. “And there will always be those who want destruction, but as long as there is more hope, then we’ll always have peace.” Tears welled up in your eyes, you were talking more to yourself, but he pulled you into a hug, and you cried, for the first time in years.
“I know a place where you can install that.” He said, releasing the hug, and you followed him to a large tree in the field. It hummed with energy. Not evil or good, not light or dark, just balanced force.
You sat on your knees in front, placing a crystal next to your saber, Kes walking away to give you a moment. You closed your eyes and pictured it all, the darkness, the mistakes, being swept away by light, and forgiveness. You opened them to reveal your reassembled saber, and the cracked crystal next to it. You decided to bury it with the tree, putting to rest your conflict, your guilt, and anger.
And Igniting your forgiveness, certainty, and compassion in a deep blue light. 
“A True Kenobi.” Kes said from afar, Poe just watching in awe as the sun set behind the mountains. You disabled the saber and wore it proudly on your belt.
“Thank you.” Was all you could manage, walking back toward the older of the two rebels.
“Don’t even worry about it.” He squeezed your shoulder, and walked back toward the house. 
“Bonfire?” Poe asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yes.”
The night fell rather quickly after the sun set, and the summer breeze gave a chill while you and Poe sat on a log and exchanged dumb jokes and he filled you in on all the need to know information. A silence fell over you soon enough and he just stared at you over his shoulder.
“Kenobi, huh?” He laughed. “My grandpa flew A-Wings.” He mocked
“You’re an ass.” You rolled your eyes.”He did!” You defended. 
“He was a kriffing Jedi that is the least interesting thing you could have said!” 
“Sorry my life story isn’t entertaining.” You punched his arm and he acted fake hurt.
“Oh it definitely is.” He poked. “They’ll write myths about you.”
“Hopefully about the good to come, not the bad that’s passed.” You half smiled. 
“I hope it’s all of it, more inspiring that way.” He locked eyes with yours.
“Me being a trained sith apprentice doesn’t scare you?” He shook his head. 
“No. Sith, Jedi, call it what you want but I just see a beautiful woman who is strong enough to know right from wrong.” He tucked a hair behind your ear. “And that means more than making things float.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips and your heart forgot how to keep a rhythm. 
You were sure Obi Wan was up there cursing about the Old Jedi Code and falling in love, or whatever. The best part was, you didn’t love Poe.
but you know you could, given time. 
And for once in your life you weren’t scared.
198 notes · View notes
lunaescribe · 3 years
Text
A Christmas Carol 2019 ★★★★½
A Christmas Carol 2019 ★★★★½
Rewatched Dec 25, 2020
MariaSar’s review published on Letterboxd:
A RESTORATION OF THE BOOK’S SOCIAL JUSTICE This is not another adaption which seeks to be family friendly whimsy and sanguine lightness on harsh realities. When Dickens described a character in the 1840s who said “Then let them die and decrease the surplus population”, he was not summoning an over the top miserable monster from his imagination. Capitalism boomed in this period, poverty thrived and many did die in the streets in the age of industry as Monopolies and Robber Barons were born and the 1% as we still know it today struck their roots into the ground. And they did it on the back of many POC and lives of workers. Dickens work was attacking their success and exploitive practices in his story, while creating a story that could be emotionally related to by many readers.
Over the last nearly 200 years much of the book lost its bite to warm fuzzy film adaptions loosing the ghost story angle, as Dickens begins the book with, in their retelling. This adaptation returns the gothic to the story. This version is a viscous attack on capitalism and an updated version of how much our understanding of human psychology has grown in 200 years.
This version goes into Scrooge’s psyche like we’ve never seen before, and I will do my best to explain without giving spoilers. It builds on the underlying sprinkles of abuse Dickens’ writings hinted at, and crafts a version of the storys themes free of any societal censorship in the 1840s. It breaks down the mind of money obsession of the extreme capitalist and asks what turns a person to delve so deeply into that mindset.
Much like the original story this version allows sympathy for Scrooge however unlike nearly every other version it does not excuse his behavior in favor of sympathy. This version highlights the exploitive practices of business men in the 1840s and today, especially how it fell on women and POC of color. And POC indeed finally! A version showing a diverse London as it historically was! Astonishingly it is one of the first versions to include Ali Baba as a character even though he does feature in the book as a vivid piece of Scrooge’s childhood. This version finally confronts the white supremacy of past adaptions and men like Scrooge did and today still do commit.
The biggest change and update to the story is how it uses its women. It’s common knowledge Dickens was not particularly kind to women, most of the 19th century wasn’t, however this version is good enough to realistically and thematically build up the prominent women in the original story creating a more balanced and nuanced story. Mary Cratchit’s outburst in the book of loathing Scrooge even more than her husband is heavily built on and she finally get to be a person instead of just a device. The same can be said of Scrooge’s sister without going too much into spoiler territory. And almost every addition is paired with a common motif or occurrence to women in the 19th century, making them all fit smoothly into the narrative.
Lastly and most importantly is how this film handles the climax and Scrooge’s redemption. In most films Scrooge’s is so horrified by a future of dying alone it drives him to change. I won’t reveal the way they do it in this film but it is jaw dropping and the truest most informed and perfect example of character redemption I’ve ever seen. It shares focus on those who have been abused by Scrooge, not sweeping over their pain or anyone’s pain. It is the most sincere authentic portrayal of true remorse as opposed to selfish fear of consequences.
This is a version of a Christmas Carol that embodies the phrase “Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable”. This is a version that challenges what it means to seek redemption and feel remorse, and offers comfort to those who have been abused of how to forgive themselves and the ill that was done to them-and break their own cycle of abuse. It is strikingly brilliant artistically and acted, and if you can let go of what you think a Christmas Carol should be-it will offer you deep epiphany, hope, and potentially righteous anger. I beg you to watch it, it is now one of my most favorite pieces of media ever, and I believe destined to become an adult classic.
Tumblr media
15 notes · View notes
heistmaster69 · 4 years
Text
pariet lilium
pariet lilium
pariet lilium~by @heistmaster69​
4th Year Draco Malfoy x OC fic. 
~so uhh um I was maybe watching a video about dark academia while writing this and may have gotten a BIT carried away~
gif by @fairylightwishes​ all credit to them!
Tumblr media
~
Frankie and Cher sat in the back of Potions class while Snape droned on about the effects of crushed versus shaved Bicorn Horn on the end result of a Pepperup potion.
“-now you see that’s exactly what I was talking about. Muggle movie stars are much more attractive than boys at Hogwarts-”
“Leonar-” 
“-Dicaprio, yes.” She whispered.
“Frankie that man is gorgeous-”
‘So fine-”
Cher let out a sigh, while Frankie continued. “All the boys from Dead Poets Society-”
“So it’s decided then-”
“Yes. I’m saving my virginity until I’m of age and Leonardo Dicaprio can come and take it fro-”
“Miss. Reed.” Snape deadpanned. “If you and your friends would be so kind as to stop squealing about muggle boys in my class-I would appreciate it. That will be five points from Slytherin.” 
Cher kicked Frankie under the table. 
“My bad, professor.” She murmured, putting her palm under her chin and turning back to her notes. 
Potions had to be her third favorite class, Frankie didn’t mind it at all, it’s just, she was a little distracted, recently. It seemed like her single-ness was beginning to get to her and she found herself daydreaming during class. She didn’t want to be as obsessed as she was, but Frankie couldn’t really help it. She wanted the movie-scene first kiss and the romance novel passion, as unattainable as it is, she craved it. 
But the thing is-Frankie never let herself daydream about people she knew. In reality, none of the people she’s liked would ever like her back, and it just hurt her because she knew that no one would ever have feelings for Frankie as she did for them. Every time she let her walls down she got hurt. 
A lot of the people Frankie has met have made sure she knows that she will never be as valuable, never as loved, as beautiful, as successful as others because she wasn’t as thin as others. Frankie loved herself. But her ‘friends’, her family? It seemed like they hated her for it...
Magic had always interested Frankie. Being a witch or wizard usually goes over the heads of purebloods, with the mere prospect of having the gift coming so naturally to all of them. Frankie’s isolated upbringing, rarely seeing her parents and being brought up by a strange yet kind tutor who instructed her in all sorts of topics, ranging from basic arithmetic to discovering Frankie’s magical abilities. Ms. Selwyn, around Frankie’s parents, and Kendra, during her tutoring sessions daily during childhood. 
These memories with Kendra have a warm haze to them, and whenever Frankie reminisced, a smile would find its way onto her face. We would stand together in the garden, during the golden sunsets, and she would say;
“Magic is an incredible gift, it is beautiful and infinitely important. We hold the power of the universe in our hands.” 
Young Frankie would stare wide-eyed, confused, and tug on the side of Kendra’s robe,
“Ms. Kendra, what’s the universe?” Frankie would ask.
“The universe is everything.”
“Everything? How much is that?” 
Kendra would smile so gently and kneel down beside Frankie, grasping her small hands and gesturing towards the sky alive with color.
“More than we could ever know.”
Kendra knew the power purebloods held with the Ministry, after all, the Selwyns and the Reeds were a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The Ministry was still hypnotized by the status and the blood purity that these upper-class families held and overlooked the small laws broken by the elite, so Kendra and Frankie would practice small magic in their free time-in secret. The Reeds would never want their precious-little-delicate-perfect-pureblood baby daughter learning anything but the proper protocol for stuffy dinners with the Prewetts, the Malfoys, the Greengrasses, the Bulstrodes, the Parkinsons, the Notts, the Flints, or any other sort of perfect families that they could put in their larger-than-life estate. 
Nevertheless, Kendra would take Frankie into the garden behind the mansion, near the rippling brook by a big oak tree. They would sit in the shade of the branches and Frankie would learn about everything her family didn’t want her to know. She learned about the inequality between purebloods, half-bloods, and muggleborns and as Kendra told her of the First Wizarding War, Frankie felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. How could someone think they were any better than another human being due to their blood? Their lineage? How they treat those supposedly ‘less than’? This realization caused a rift to form between Frankie and her parents-the entirety of what being Sacred 28 pureblooded perfection was. 
She despised it.
Kendra warned her though, she spoke softly the words that shoved Frankie into a vault, locked her away, and threw away the key.
“I don’t know if this will ever change.”
Little Frankie blinked quickly, her wide eyes sore and puffy from tears. “Why?” She cried. 
“They will never relinquish the privilege that this supremacy gives them.” Kendra let out a deep sigh and placed a tender hand on Frankie’s shoulder. 
“I think you’re wrong, Miss Kendra.”
“I hope I am, Miss Frankie. I think you could make a difference.”
This upbringing of acceptance and wonder from Kendra instilled a unique view of magic in Frankie. She saw it as a privilege and took an interest in a side of magic that tended to be overlooked until necessary. Frankie liked to create spells and potions. Specifically, she had a fixation on wandless magic. It was crazy to her-she could create life from her hands. How so many of her friends and peers overlooked this, she understood but wished more people wouldn’t call people like her Loony Lovegood. 
Anyways.
Frankie hid a tattered mahogany-colored, pleather-bound journal in her pillowcase. This journal rarely let the safety of her room, only transferring annually between her estate and Hogwarts. It was never shown to a soul, and it contained her life’s work in what could barely be considered spell-creation. Notes and random scribbles littered the pages, but if it were ever to be lost, Frankie would lose everything she’s done since she was six years, four months, and thirteen days old and Kendra told her about spell-creation. She thinks she would cry.
~
“Oi Francesca-” A voice called.
“-you’re not allowed to call me that, Blaise.” Frankie chuckled as he jogged up to her, stopping to lean against the wall with a smirk.
“I don’t care, you’re Francesca to me. Anyway, Potions, what happened in poti-” Blaise looked over his shoulder and shouted to Theo. “Oi Theodore, get your arse over here!” Blaise had a thing for using people’s full name-even if it’s not really their name, (ie Daphnessa/Pansleigh.) Frankie rolled her eyes as Theo strolled, shoulders taut, up to Blaise
“Frankie, what happened in Potions? You love potions, you’re always talking about how Potions is a really cool way to learn about how magic affects the world-”
“-Potions is a super cool way to learn about how magic affects the world-” Blaise interjected, wrapping an arm around Theo’s broad shoulders.
 Theo turns to Blaise with a sarcastic stare at him. “Yeah, that.”
I want to have a stupid dumb kiss already. Which is stupid dumb and I don’t even care but I’m horny for love.
“Oh, yeah I-I didn’t sleep well last night.” Frankie choked out.
“It was kind of a relief, your constant enthusiasm about Snape’s class is alarming.” Theo snickered. Blaise snorted as he and Theo sauntered towards the Great Hall. Frankie let out a breath and followed soon after the two boys let for lunch to get to the common room.
~
Frankie’s boots tapped gently against the cold stone floor of the dungeons. Dust hung low in the air, illuminated by the amber glow of hanging torches that littered the walls. The dungeons are always shown as a dingy, disgusting place but Frankie found the common room comforting. She stilled in front of the entrance and spoke softly the password. 
“Labebantur anguis.” 
The wall dragged inwards with a low scraping sound, revealing her home. The estate is not a home, the estate is merely her stage, acting as the perfect daughter for an audience of haughty purebloods. This common room was perfect, smelling like pine and cotton and the perfect temperature. Green rugs and plush couches in front of a fireplace, tables and booths next to an espresso machine and a tea kettle. Arching windows and pillars showcasing the beauty under the Black Lake. This is home.
She stepped past the commons and walked up the winding stairs to the shared dormitories. Cher laid on Frankie’s bed with Daphne with parchment and quills set out on the emerald silk sheets.
“If you two spill ink on my bed one more time I’ll hex you in your sleep.” Frankie shrugged out of her robe and fell back onto Cher’s bed. The two girls giggled and returned to their subsequent conversations.
Cher was gorgeous. She radiated kindness and had an aura about her that made her seem impenetrable, yet she was humble. She had a crooked smile that never failed to bring one to Frankie’s face. Her eyes shone with emotion and were a deep brown that glimmered at all times. She was incredibly brilliant and the top of many of her classes. With the exception of Potions, Frankie held that spot proudly. 
Everyone says that perfect Hermione Granger, the “brightest witch of her age”, is the top of every class, but ever since she had to use her time to deal with the two rambunctious children that are her friends, she holds strong at about fourth. Frankie had to admit, she had a burning jealousy of Granger. She managed to befriend Potter in her first year, as well as make friends with many of the teachers, ace her classes, and save the entire school three times by now. Not to mention, she was also very pretty. This envy flared its deep green color whenever Frankie so much as heard the name Granger. 
“Earth to Reed?” Frankie snapped out of her covetous haze and met Daphne’s eyes. “Pansy’s bringing up lunch, get started on your essay, like, now.” 
Frankie tipped her head in agreement and reached into her bag to pick out her Astronomy notes. “Five sheets of parchment? Is Professor Sinistra trying to kill us?” 
“I think I might just use one sheet for every word: Sorry, I, Don’t, Want, To.” Cher counted on her fingers with a snort.
Daphne tugged at her bottom lip with her pinkie. “Maybe Frankie can use one of the spells from her secret journal to erase this essay from Sinistra’s mind.”
“That spell already exists, you toad.” Pansy swung the door open with several food items floating behind her, a slice of pumpkin bread levitating into Frankie’s waiting hands. “It’s called Obliviate, it has murderous side effects, and, next week it’s Reed’s turn to get the food.”
“Thank you Pans,” Cher cheered, mouth full of a danish pastry.
“Plus, the boys were bugging us to sit with them more often.” Pansy sat beside Frankie, parchment in hand. Daphne rolled her eyes.
“It’s one day a week, they’ll get over it eventually.”
“The students at Uagadou are so lucky. They have a good Astronomy program and they live in a cloud.” 
Cher scoffed. “They don’t live in a cloud, Pans, They live in a castle-that’s on a cloud. It’s very particular.”
“I want to live in a castle.”
“You idiot, you do.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you bloody mean?”
“Nothi-whatever-what are we doing for Hogsmeade tomorrow?”
~
Draco. Bloody. Malfoy. 
He walks around the school all high and mighty, like he owns the place, yet he acts like a right prat to many of its inhabitants. It’s like the boy was born with a stick up his arse. Yet, Frankie knew how he was raised, not that it’s an excuse. He doesn’t want to be the way he is, but he’s not some broken boy for her to fix. 
She’s had many conversations in the common room with Malfoy after nights of nightmares. She’s shared hugs that linger a second too long and strange glances during lectures. His stone grey eyes held an emotion behind them that she couldn’t understand. It made her uncomfortable, the strange buzz on her skin where his hand met. The fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach when they got too close. She didn’t like it. It made her feel like a creep.
She sees the way he looks at Cher. Frankie doesn’t compare to a golden, legs-for-days goddess with a waist the same circumference as Frankie’s thigh. Besides, a Malfoy should be with someone the same physical caliber as him. Frankie’s mother prayed to the ghost of Merlin that Frankie would blossom into a beautiful flower, but as her mother continuously reminded her, 
“You are a disgrace. Nothing but a weed in a garden of perfection.”
It’s not hard to believe. Many pureblood parents held a disdain for their children in private. Frankie was lucky to have someone like Kendra. Other teenagers didn’t have anyone. Frankie was lucky, not special. A mere weed, removable by a weak pull. A thorn on an otherwise perfect rose, fit to be plucked, ignored by onlookers.
Draco Malfoy was never written in the stars for someone like Frankie. 
Not that she liked him or anything. He was, as stated before, a right prat. A good looking one, but a prat nonetheless. They didn’t talk much, at all, instead seeking solace in the late hours of the night, a deep bond hidden from their friends. How could two people who were supposedly so perfect, be so broken?
~
pariet lilium.
chapter two
54 notes · View notes
keichanz · 4 years
Text
@clearwillow​ @lemonlushff​ @dangerouspompadour​ 
*RUNS AWAY*
Tumblr media
Kagome strolled into her bedroom as she dried off her hair, rubbing the towel over her head and absently humming a tuneless melody under her breath. It was late and she’d taken full advantage of her family being asleep by taking a nice long bath, soaking in the hot water until her fingers pruned, and then retreating back to her room in naught but a towel.  It was her favorite time of day, Kagome had to admit, because not only did she not have to worry about annoying little brothers pounding on the door demanding she hurry up, it was peaceful, quiet, and she was actually able to get some studying done without distractions.
Well, at least when her brain wasn’t determined on forcing her to relive the day’s rather...interesting events. Kagome’s face flamed for the nth time that night as she recalled the whole debacle with Kouga and a certain word he’d used which had prompted a very uncomfortable conversation with Inuyasha, which in turn made her remember how her traitorous body had reacted to a certain arrogant dog-boy doing...that to her.
“Stupid,” Kagome hissed, not quite sure if she was insulting Inuyasha or herself as a rush of heat swept through her body and gathered at the apex of her thighs, a pulsing, frustrating ache that had only worsened as the day wore on. Most of the time she’d been able to ignore it—until Inuyasha caught her eye and sent her suggestive smirks and heated looks and suddenly she was unable to look at him without feeling like she was going to spontaneously combust.  And if the arrogance that just rolled off of him in waves was any indication, he knew damn well what he was doing to her, and didn’t that annoy her even more, the prick!
Grumbling under her breath and idly wondering where the stupid hanyou’s odd behavior was even coming from – he’d never shown interest before, so why now? – Kagome let the towel drop to pool around her feet as she grabbed the shirt that lie on her bed. Shrugging it on and immediately feeling a little better as the soft cotton slid across her damp skin, Kagome was too distracted by her thoughts to hear the soft click of her bedroom door being closed.
Closing her eyes, Kagome allowed a soft, fond smile to curl the corners of her lips as she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and slowly inhaled. It smelled typically of cotton and fabric softener, not at all like the man that had previously worn it years ago, but all the same it helped to ease her mind and relax her tense muscles.
The button-down shirt was one of the few things Kagome still owned that had belonged to her father, and oftentimes when she was feeling stressed or a little sad, she’d put it on and would immediately feel better. She liked to imagine wearing it was like getting a hug from her dearly deceased father and just as they had when he was still alive, his embraces were like magic and they took all the bad feelings away.
Thanks, dad, Kagome mused fondly and started buttoning it up, her smile nostalgic, but warm as she mused aloud, “Funny how a dead person can provide more comfort than the actual living breathing man in my life. Then again, he’s the one that caused the bad feelings…stupid jerkface prick…”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, wench.”
Every muscle in Kagome’s body tensed as her fingers froze on the shirt and the color slowly drained from her face. Chocolate eyes went wide, her mouth parted on a near soundless gasp, and the wave of heat that swept through her traitorous body just from the sound of his voice had her knees trembling and the ache between her legs suddenly viciously intensifying.
The low growl that rent the room told her clearly her reaction did not go unnoticed. Kagome shuddered and withheld a whimper as dual emotions battled for supremacy in her mind: unadulterated, horrified embarrassment that urged her to use the sit command, and powerful, savage lust that threatened to erase all coherent thought completely.
“Turn around,” his voice came again, dark and husky and delicious, and Kagome’s fate was sealed.
Utterly helpless to the dark allure of his command, Kagome did as she was told, dropping her hands and slowly turning to face him. The instant her eyes connected with deep, burnished gold another wave of heat rolled through her body and her nipples tightened as she involuntarily stumbled back with a breathy gasp. Her hip bumped into the nightstand but she barely registered the miniscule flare of pain, the slick heat between her thighs and the heady desire ravaging her body thoroughly distracting her.
Her back hit the cool glass of the window and Kagome realized, as his eyes flashed and another hedonistic growl reverberated throughout the room, she was well and truly trapped.
She bit back another whimper and tried to swallow past the lump in her throat as Inuyasha finally pushed away from the door he was leaning against and leisurely strolled across the room toward her. His gait was lazy, relaxed, a complete contradiction to the way Kagome’s composure seemed to melt away with every step he took. Her breathing quickened, her heart raced in her chest, and by the time he finally stopped in front of her it was all she could do to not melt into a puddle of hot, wet, and wanting female flesh at his feet.
The steady growl thrumming through his chest rolled across her skin like a physical caress, skating up her arms, across her chest to tease the sensitive peaks of her breasts, and down across her belly before arrowing straight to her weeping center. Kagome couldn’t contain the whimper that time and squeezed her thighs together, though it did little good to stem the flow of liquid heat that slicked her thighs.
God, had she ever been more turned on her in life? And Inuyasha hadn’t even done anything besides be his infuriatingly arrogant self and oh god she liked it.
Shuddering as he lazily swept his hot gaze down her body, lingering on her breasts and between her legs, Kagome licked her lips and attempted to seize control of the situation before it got too out of hand.
Because even if her body clearly wanted it, she didn’t think her heart would be able to handle what came afterward.
“I-Inu—” she tried, but then he abruptly cut his eyes to hers and the rest of his name was lost in a breathless whisper. She exhaled sharply and could do nothing but gaze up at him, trembling, helpless, trapped in the amber gaze that burned hotter than the sun.
With eyes gone heavy-lidded and mouth parted to show a teasing flash of fang, Inuyasha lifted a hand, slipped his fingers inside the deep V of the half-way buttoned shirt, and rubbed the soft material between his fingers. He heard the way she held her breath but paid it no mind, silently studying the garment that hid her body from view while simultaneously admiring the smooth flesh already bared to him. The garment still covered her breasts but just barely, nipples hard and jutting against the fabric just shy of the edge.
The urgent need to see her, bared and beautiful and his, slammed into him hard and the growl that erupted from his throat was positively visceral. Kagome gasped and quavered before him in response, the dark spice of her scent suggesting it was a very positive reaction. Without further thought Inuyasha flicked his eyes to hers, slowly slid his finger down the V of the shirt to the first fastened button, and tugged meaningfully.
“Remove it,” he growled, catching the slight hitch in her breath, “or I’ll shred it.”
“No!” Kagome gasped a little breathlessly, eyes going wide as she raised a hand to clutch at the fabric instinctually, the thought of the only memento she had left of her father falling pray his claws a terrifying one.
“Then take. It. Off,” Inuyasha ordered her, lips peeling back just the slightest bit to display his fangs in a mild snarl of warning. Amber eyes narrowed and he curled his finger a little tighter against the fabric, his meaning very clear. Off now, or have it reduced to rags.
Kagome whimpered as indecision tore at her. Taking it off meant she would be completely nude in front of him, no barrier, no protection against the dark honey of his gaze as it took her in fully. But if she didn’t, she knew he would absolutely carry out his threat and rip it off of her without a second thought so Kagome supposed she really didn’t have much a choice, did she?
Save her father’s shirt and obey his wicked command to bare herself. Or: refuse, have her father’s shirt get destroyed, and be naked before him anyway.
Inuyasha growled sharply, his impatience clear as he once more tugged at the shirt, a reminder to act quickly. Closing her eyes, not without a fierce blush and a soft whimper, Kagome gave in, moving trembling fingers to the buttons and releasing them one by one.
Satisfied, Inuyasha’s growl lowered into a pleasing rumble of approval and he dropped his hand, greedily taking in every inch of smooth skin bared to his hungry gaze. When she released the last button but hesitated in shrugging out of the garment, Inuyasha’s patience abruptly expired and with a grunt he slipped his hands beneath the shirt and carelessly shoved it off to land in a forgotten heap at their feet.  
101 notes · View notes
thenxghtwemet · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
&&. cauldron above, ( jacqueline dubois ) was just spotted in the fae lands — word has it ( she ) is affiliated with ( the night court ). ( she ) is a ( 340 / appears 34 ) year old ( high fae ). it’s been said that ( she ) resembles ( àstrid bergès-frisbey ). ( she ) has been said to be ( practical & clever ) but also quite ( manipulative & selective ). ( she ) is currently serving as ( royal advisor to the night court ).
Basic Info
Name: Jacqueline Dubois
Pronunciation: Jac-eh-lin Do-bois
Occupation: Royal Advisor to the Night Court
Age: 340, Appears 34
Place of Origin: The Night Court
Physical Description
Height: 5″7
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Mixed
Gender: Cisgender Female
Build: Slender
Wings: Expansive black and purple wings
History
“Fortune favors the clever, and spares the beautiful,” remarked the late Duke of the Night Court, with his children sitting at the foot of his chair. The cold and calculating Duke passed a disparaging eye at his youngest born, for whom beauty quickly became her identifier. The third offspring of the Duke and Duchess of the Night Court, Jacqueline Dubois boasted great beauty at a young age. The luster of her black locks, the sheen of her pale skin, and the shimmer of her iridescent eyes made her mythic within the mountains. A girl for whom, many sonnets and songs were dedicated. Such beauty would make any family proud. Except, for her own. Beauty, as her father determined, was born by chance. Only the truly clever would thrive, and Jacqueline showed little promise. In a land where cold and calculated proved strength, his daughter’s appeal did little to secure a reputation. Instead, he focused his tutelage towards his other children, leaving Jacqueline to the care of the Duchess.
Under-looked and underestimated, the young fae quickly recognized the benefits of such a position. The clever pianist began to fuel her reputation as the fragile and beautiful high fae. Save for her childhood friend, Gabriel, most who came to know Jacqueline saw only her outward exterior. That was how she liked it. Usurpers, gossips, and social-climbers alike were quick to show their cards, determining Jacqueline as inconsequential. Once the young fae came of age, her father determined she be wed to advance the Night Court’s position within the realm. Despite her protests, Jacqueline followed in suit, traveling to different courts (at least, those that would welcome a high fae of the Night) to meet with prospective mates. Unknown to her father, she quietly amassed ‘friendships’ and ‘kinships’ that would provide eyes and ears into other courts. An undertaking of Jacqueline’s own mission; to prove herself worth of his praise, and of a place within Gabriel’s ranks.
To the surprise of Jacqueline, Gabriel’s ascent into High Lord granted her a most formidable title; his royal advisor. A public title that brought her father both pride, and shame. It was a triumph for the Dubois, but a correction of what he long determined; that his daughter would be nothing but a pawn in the great game. Jacqueline had, after all this time, proved herself a clever fae. Loyal to Gabriel and the protection of the Night Court, Jacqueline approaches her role with pragmatism and patience. The recent political allegiances are met with wariness from the advisor, for whom outside influence has always proved untrustworthy.
Additional Facts
True to the artistry of the Night Court, Jacqueline is a talented pianist and composer
Sibling to the Duke and/or Duchess of the Night Court
Personality
“Clever as the devil and twice as pretty.” An apt description of the advisor to the Night Court. From the outside looking in, Jacqueline’s persona is a stark contrast to the reputation of its court. The beautiful fae appears charming, delicate, and warm. But one need only look into her eyes, to see the cold and calculating nature within. Naturally manipulative, Jacqueline prides herself in catching the most poignant needs and desires of others, and using it to advance the Night Court’s place within the realm. Born and raised in the Mountains, she believes in the supremacy of her court, and believes others to be beneath their like. Despite her belief system, she maintains allies and comrades outside of her court. A purposeful move, to ensure knowledge of the ongoings within others. Despite her nature, Jacqueline is internally insecure and temperamental.
11 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
I pulled this from an article on that off duty female firefighters account of George Floyd’s murder and alarms went off immediately - so many things are made clear in how the cops responded to her here, a woman who’s more their peer and team mate than ANY ONE:
-They don’t believe her when she says she’s a firefighter [because she’s a woman, and someone will certainly jump in and posit that a white guy saying the same thing would get the same response from the cops but .....I really don’t think so, I think we’re kidding ourselves when we pretend that equality is our cultures norm and not segregation and actual genocide and systemic racism and obvious sexism, seen in our disregarding/discrediting/cheapening everything that is feminine, like fucking feelings😤. Those cops would have recognized themselves in another guy claiming his skill set and even if they wouldn’t have let him check George’s pulse while he was dying, they would have for SURE treated him with more respect and with the assumption that he’s telling the truth if he exhibits enough “friendly qualities” aka be white, be male, not be dressed in clothes that look ‘urban’ or homeless (because a homeless white guy is just a failure which is unamerican 🙄) qualities which are literally a result of *luck* [white, man] and superficiality+privilege [money to buy clothes that make others more comfortable]
-‘you would know better’ is a totally infantilizing tone to take with this professional woman, and ultimately she DID KNOW BETTER THAN THEM and had they let her do what she knew was right to do a person would still be alive [like, piece of shit Derek Whatever should be fucking WISHING he had listened to her in that fucking moment every day for the rest of his life, it should haunt him that he let his surrounding fucked up culture of white supremacy and male-coddling move him to murder a man over a $20 bill instead of listen to a woman, or listen to a child, or listen to someone crying, or listen to someone with no money - he should be the poster child of “yo, we white men NEED everyone else around us and we should start acting like it, NOW” that’s literally what “make space” means, because too many men need to move out of the fucking way, like “let the grown ups talk” “let them work”, “let them save lives” I am so sick of LETTING cops play action hero with real guns and imagined ‘enemies’ in their real neighbors bodies - they shouldn’t ever be working with a defense mindset, it should be “support the community”, their intentions and goals should be *sooooo feminine* and rooted in love and care and family projected onto their country at large, their home🏠=their home🌎
- If/then statements become instantly threatening when someone’s life is immediately at stake, it’s an aggressor and his buddies telling you to get out of their way, to shut the fuck up
-....”you’d know not to get involved” WHAT THE FUCK she is part of the team of emergency responders in our country and she SHOULD get involved when she sees something that she can take care of - like a man with a swollen face smashed into the ground and a blocked air pipe and weakened heart rate - that is exactly her fucking job and how she knows to do it [all stories of off-duty cops running around discharging their weapons and making arrests without wearing their uniforms - we’re supposed to be fine with that, but not when the other emergency peeps try to apply their experience?? In this case where there was no threat to anyone as George was HANDCUFFED AND LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS surrounded by three cops and a crowd upset to be watching them kill him. cops constantly demand all this respect in response to their abuse and demand that citizens suspend their logic and their fucking freedom to exist so cops can “do their jobs” and we can’t complain, we can’t protest their bad job, we can’t give them *any* attitude at any time while they harass us even if they aren’t dressed as such..... but none of these special rules apply to anyone else.... like, cops fail the golden rule from the outset 🤨
The fact that a murderer who used to make money as a cop [because to be clear, being a cop isn’t a personality trait, it signifies no goodness, no heroism, nothing more than a job, a job people do to get money, it’s not heroic to get a chunk of cash after “triaging a childs gun shot wounded leg” especially considering the violence that cause that child’s injury was propagated by the violent and militant policing of their community...so cops have literally set the stage perfectly for all their “acts of heroism”and bonus! They get bonuses/pay increases when the crimes rates are “really🤑bad” like HELLO!!!]
that these spineless men can actually rest on the defense of “it was the black mans fault that he was killed, it was the counterfeit bills callers fault, it was the crowds fault for making us nervous and being threatening to us and angry at the sight of a man being slowly murdered in front of them” - the crowd was mostly people of color, young kids, and this firefighter who made a point of staying behind because she was concerned for the safety of her black neighbors *while police were around*
😑I need fucking Queen amidala in the center of the senate saying “the people have spoken and we vote no confidence” fire all cops, tell them “we set up this new protective agency, you can apply but we cannot promise you’ll get this job, you’ll have to PROVE IT that you can even do it” because I’ve never seen men spoken to like that,
I constantly hear how women and bipoc “just need to find another job” when they are in a tough spot with bad treatment, harassment, low pay, hours, etc, (these are almost always service jobs that entertain/benefit wealthy people, like waiters, like strippers, like masseuses, like fast food workers, like cheerleaders, like maids, like nannies, the rich seem to be in this cycle of consuming without resistance for as long as they possibly can, then if/when anyone brings up how it’s kind of dangerous and there should be a better way they say “well fucking fine! Just shut it down, we didn’t even NEED it, this was a pointless job anyways so now it doesn’t exist” it’s a shitty breakup - it’s the other person responding to your valid criticism and willingness to work together to improve the relationship “well I didn’t even like you and you’re ugly so” 🙄Cool!
~Whyyyyy don’t wealthy/privileged people get called out for all their daily bridge burning??? [the answer is unfortunately because they were burning bridges with people no one cared about - like the workers of a Taco Bell, or the child of a black man murdered by cops, or a teenage girl raped by an executive who invited her to his office for “an interview” - no one tells all the many people involved in letting abuse continue not to burn bridges with their victims, with all of THOSE people, because our culture doesn’t respect them. hence #blm #metoo #transrights etc, the real theme is “we’re not white straight men” white supremacy needs to die a horrible painful, ugly, honorless, despicable death~
So the wealthy creates the job, labels it from the get go “not worthy of respect”, enjoys without consequences, abuses, pretends that it’s the fault of the worker for their pay and that they receive no respect [✨gaslighting✨]...... and when that worker decides that their dignity isn’t worth 8.25 an hour, the wealthy response is to either fire the easily replacable body whose Heath is clearly of no importance to them [if it was we’d have universal heathcare] or just erase that job entirely that serves as someone’s lifeline, their survival, because abusing vulnerable people bears no weight on their own wealthy existence, with all their options. bill gates doesn’t give a shit when a subway closes, but that subway was not only the job/livelihoods of a whole team of people who *hopefully* live nearby with their families [and not three different bus rides away in a more “diverse” neighborhood 🙄], that subway also fed the community when they wanted lunch/dinner or wanted a sandwich snack or something warm, and didn’t have the time or the ingredients or the know how or *bodily ability* to do it themselves. To so many nameless/non celebrity people, that closing is catastrophic and in some cases threatening to their life.
We dismiss little lives and simple lives so ruthlessly, a man could be perfectly happy heading a subway for 35 years if he was paid respectfully by his employer and treated respectfully by everyone [if We had a subway guy like that, we’d love him! We’d know his name and he’d know ours and our faves and our goals and we could ask how his three kids are without hanging our heads in shame knowing he makes no more than $30,000 a year as a manager which is NOT AT ALL ENOUGH for either him alone or his lovely family that he loves so much - and this hypothetical is annoying already because we shouldn’t pay people a certain amount *because they are good*, people should be paid an amount that allows them to access the things that help them and enrich them, make them happier, healthier, make *choices* that lead to goodness for sure - but we can’t fucking expect people living in poverty now to prove to us that they’ll use their money “appropriately” - it starts with us helping them up
We couldn’t let restaurants/grocery stores close during the pandemic, that alone proved that we need these people who just flip burgers and stack cans - and we need them to be well paid, and healthy and happy
it is always those vulnerable individuals responsibility to find a new employer, not for structures of power to end discriminatory practices and mistreatment [uwu, too hard, thanks for making this laziness in our leaders possible white supremacy! It’s going so great😒] I’d like for white male cops to feel that vulnerability FOR ONCE [even just in conversation, even in a hypothetical] and have to consider winning a new job, and winning it based on actual merit and skill, not the fact that their fellow white dude bosses feel most comfortable with them in the locker room 🙄
if the larger portion of the community that doesn’t subscribe to white supremacy has no confidence in the men and women whose jobs it is to protect them and ‘serve justice’ then we need to adjust, not throw more money at the privileged, brainwashed fuck ups and say “here’s more money to be less monstrous” I really don’t get why anyone is surprised these tiny, insignificant, performative measures don’t result in any positive change - because we’re not tackling the actual issues and unfortunately for dipshits, *racism/sexism/classism* is the entire issue that needs to be handled - the issue is simply that some humans don’t think another group of humans deserve their respect [and I don’t want to hear that that’s how the animal kingdom works because fuck that, we’re thinking and *feeling* humans and that places us on a higher plane of existence and potential - to not know that we’re better than *this* is so fucking offensive, and we can’t keep moving as slowly as white straight ass holes, everything is on fire]
1 note · View note