𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙨𝙚

𝗜𝗻𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀

• 1/4 cup cream cheese

• 1/4 tsp pressed garlic or 1/4 of a clove garlic or garlic leaves

• 1 tbsp fresh chopped dill or dried

• 2 pcs Salmon 2 pieces about 5"x3

𝗠𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗱

1. Pre heat your oven to 400 degrees F.

2. Prepare your baking dish by greasing the bottom. If using a flat baking pan line it with parchment paper.

3. Take your cream cheese in a medium bowl and warm it in the microwave just so it is a little bit soft.

4. Once the cream cheese is softened, add the garlic (I used garlic leaves) and fresh dill and mix by hand or by mixer, both will work.

5. If your salmon has skin on one side, place that side down in the baking dish.

6. Spoon the cream cheese mixture onto the top of the salmon - you may need to flatten it down with your fingers as it can stick to the spoon.

7. Place into the preheated oven uncovered, and bake for about 20 - 25 minutes until the cream cheese on top is just staring to turn golden brown.

8. I served with brown rice and asparagus - enjoy! 😊

Chapter 10: Haven Conversations – Templar Vows (Cullevelyan fic)

The squad goes back and forth from Haven to new places to explore, in between those travels, Bryony tries to get closer to their new team, especially on certain Commander ~

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A pair of rookies usually train close to the Commander. Their swords clashing would prevent them from hearing the discussion he had with the Herald of Andraste, yet they were always curious about what their murmurs could say. All of this since it became almost custom for the Herald to visit the Commander after she returned from her travels.

Most of the soldiers didn’t think about it thoroughly, heck, the Herald, after all, always visited specific people once she arrived. The Commander, Spymaster and Ambassador were known for receiving her usual approaches. Others such as her own teammates received the same treatment, and, of course, people in charge of some important tasks such as the apothecary, smith and merchant. Nothing out of the usual according to everyone.

“Look, Daniel, I’m just saying that she always visits the Commander, always.” Said one of the pair of recruits.

“Hey, I believe you, she always first talks to him after each trip. But maybe is business talk? I mean it’s too soon to assume anything.” Answered Daniel to his partner, Jessie. Both of them tried to gossip before being reprimanded by Cullen himself for slacking in middle of the training. “You think Calla will get jealous?” he asked while resuming his combat posture, they had a few seconds left before focusing of the swings and blockings.

“Probably, although to be perfectly honest, I don’t think she has a chance with the Commander. He doesn’t seem interested in her.” Said Jessie while she put back on her helmet.

“And what about the Herald?” Daniel asked while giving the first swing. Jessie blocked with her sword.

“I’m willing to bet coin on that one, but I think I’ll need to see more… exposition of them before dropping any Sovereign.” And then Jessie began swinging her sword on the offensive.

The rookies were onto something. Bryony did prioritize to visit Cullen every time she returned from any journey. And their conversations were very long, not to mention that the Commander looked comfortable at her side. At least Jessie was the first one to ship them.

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Upon heading towards the Hinterlands, Cullen spent the rest of those weeks training rookies, calibrating the trebuchets and reading some books while he had free time. Cullen hoped that the Herald would returned safely from her journey.

Meanwhile Bryony and the gang were frantically running away from at least five bears at the same time, patching up some wounds they got from the rebel mages and templars, getting lost in the Hinterlands at least twice a day and gathering as much Elfroot as they could since Bryony discovered that she loved jumping from high places or trying to climb every rock she saw.

After they returned, Mother Giselle was accompanying them, making a success in their first mission. Of course, none of the four mentioned the fact that during their exploration in the Hinterlands they discovered that Bryony didn’t know a thing about swimming. Said fact was brought to the light when she jumped into a lake and wasn’t floating at all. Varric had to rescue her.  

The Herald, of course, tried to look for the Commander, but only found the recruits practicing. One of the templars that joined the organization was helping while Cullen was absent. So, Bryony headed towards Cassandra in order to stay low.

That day there was a bit of a ruckus in front of the Chantry. The templars blamed the mages for killing the divine, the mages blamed the templars for not protecting her. Both sides were so chaotic, it was impossible to choose one of them for their aid.

Whomever has to do that choice… will have to suffer a lot of consequences, thought Bryony.

How Cullen managed to stay in control is beyond the Herald’s mind. It is almost redundant mentioning that the Commander wants to recruit the templars, yet he didn’t side with them. Both parties were reprimanded by him. If anything, the only person Cullen wanted to punch in that event was Roderick, and Bryony wanted to join as well.

After things cooled down, everyone returned to their places, both Bryony and Cullen stood in front of the Chantry while they saw Roderick walking away. The Chancellor had to retire to his tent since there was no one he could convince. Bryony reached for one of her satchels and took out of some grapes she was carrying with her.

“Want one?” she offered one to Cullen, which was gently turned down. Bryony didn’t mind since her focus was still on the bickering they survived minutes ago.

“If you’ll excuse me, I must reassume training the recruits, it’s better if my mind is somewhere else.” Added Cullen, he wanted to leave already… but with Bryony at his side. Although, he thought that maybe it was a bit inadequate to have a small talk with her after the tense situation. Probably she wants to head to Val Royeaux as soon as possible.

“You don’t mind if I walk with you? I have to see the smith after all” added Bryony while eating her last grape, she checked her satchel and confirmed that it was empty, “I need to get some more.”

“No! No, of course not” replied Cullen immediately, he was happy that he could talk with her a bit more before she left for Val Royeaux.

“Also, don’t let anyone riot while we’re gone,” added Bryony with her usual sarcastic tone. Cullen made a small smirk due to that, in a way her funny comments helped him a lot. Unlike Varric, he welcomes her comic side.

“The walls will be standing when you return… I hope.” Cullen surprised her with his comment. She doesn’t know if he was being funny, neither does the Commander. At least now both of them were more relaxed now.

The chat was short, nothing too personal for both of them. It was more about Bryony asking on Cullen’s opinions about Josephine, Leliana and just soldiers in general. The Herald didn’t admit it to herself, but she was trying to find out if the Commander was already taken without rising any suspicion.

Yes! Apparently, he’s single… I guess, hm, I should probably ask him directly. Maybe next time, thought Bryony once both got separated by their own duties ahead.

It didn’t take long enough before Bryony went straight ahead into Val Royeaux. She forged some new armors, ate something, visited the tavern and checked some pending missions in Haven. The advisors noticed that Bryony was working more compared to what they asked her already. In way it was inspiring that someone was so dedicated to their cause. The Herald of course, was getting rid of those pesky pending chores since she was stressing over how much things were tasked to her.

“Can’t the quartermaster gather velveteen by herself?!” Bryony shouted in one occasion while getting lost in the Hinterlands trying to find said crafting material.

Fortunately, Varric told her minutes later that they could buy them in the Black Emporium any time they wanted.

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“Look, I know at this point I must sound a bit crazy, but,” said Jessie while practicing.

“Shh, quiet you, they’ll hear us! See if we can move closer towards them!” Daniel shushed her while trying to get a look at the Commander and the Herald.

The pair of recruits spotted their superiors having one of their usual talks whenever the Herald returned from her journeys. And, of course, she would go straight towards the Commander. Maybe they could be talking about boring but important matters regarding the Inquisition, maybe something more personal? Maybe they were already planning to elope soon enough. The imagination from both recruits was very wild. But may-

“The Lord Seeker’s actions are a mystery, but the templars will aid us. They cannot sit idle while the Breach remains.” Said Cullen a bit frustrated towards Bryony.

“And it is Inquisition’s stuff” said both recruits at the same time, to say that they disappointed is an understatement. They sadly distanced themselves from the pair before they slashed by accident the Herald’s arm.

“You aren’t the only one upset about this, I, too, expected help from them.” Bryony said while looking without any reason at the floor. She was very mad towards the seeker’s attitude. The templars that lived with her in the Tower weren’t as despotic as these ones.

The journey to Val Royeaux ended in a complete failure. Both Cassandra and Bryony exited growling while Varric tried his best in remaining calm. Had he laughed, it would’ve been his death sentence. Both the dwarf and elf expected as much from the city, they hadn’t that much of hope in the humans in first place. The only reason as to why both ladies didn’t explode the moment no lord or lady with an excessive use of perfume was on sight was because… One: Lady Fiona asked them for an alliance, and Two: They received two mysterious invitations. Apparently, some unusual guests were interested in joining the Inquisition, and right now what they needed were allies. As much as Cassandra disapproved it, Bryony never felt more reassured in believing nothing from the Chantry’s bullshit.

“I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you speaking so fondly about the templars, given that you are a mage. I mean… I, ah, do not think they cannot coexist, is just… with the current situation.” Cullen was having a hard time trying to sound polite without getting on Bryony’s bad side. He already got it the first time and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances with her.

The moment he thought about having a chance with her at all made his cheeks blush immediately, he awkwardly rubbed his neck a bit while trying to hide the small heat in his face.

“Ah, don’t get me wrong. I am a mage and, well… I do believe that they could help us, the mages I mean,” Bryony thought about Fiona and the way she approached her in Val Royeaux, she thought her team should head to Redcliffe as soon as possible.  That… before some missions are completed first, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for templars in general.” Finished the Herald while looking specifically towards Cullen.

The Commander saw her gaze and smiled a bit. Whether it was because she cared about the templars or him, that is unknown, maybe it was a mix of both.

“Although, and, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know more about the templars.” Bryony approached him once more, Cullen didn’t move since there was a bit of surprise in his eyes.

“If you need insight into what the Order is doing now, I’m afraid I can’t offer more that you already know. Anything else, I will answer as best I can.” Answered back Cullen, there was a bit of skepticism in his voice, but maybe with his answers he could convince Bryony in siding with the templars.

“Is nothing serious, you have my word on that. Is just that… I don’t know if Leliana of someone else have already told you, but when I was a kid, I enlisted myself to be part of the templars. None in the tower ever explained to me more about the templar life, it always bothered me not knowing what would’ve been of me as one.” Said Bryony while remembering the templars she knew in the tower.

“Alright, what would you like to know?” Cullen found it a bit odd that she didn’t know that much about the templars, considering her family was very much involved in the Rrder. Then again, probably Ostwick kept strong vows about their way of living; the mages he met weeks ago did mention that Bryony’s older brother trained mainly the physical aspect.

“What does templar training involved?” Bryony started with the easiest question before shooting anything more personal.

“I’m surprised due to the question. From what I was told, one of the members of your family trained rookies personally.” Cullen tried to avoid revealing that he knows about Ser Hector, now he was interested in what kind of combat Bryony was taught. He took a small step towards the Herald, both of them liked the closeness they’ve developed, even if it was only being some inches closer.

“My brother’s methods are… special. I’ve trained since I was five but, it was mostly gaining muscles and just general condition for combat. We never got fully templar sword and shield training since that was for official initiates, those already accepted by the Order,” Bryony started talking while Cullen listened patiently, “actually I was trained in physical combat, that’s why sometimes I end up just punching something instead of using my staff.” Said Bryony a little bit ashamed, she remembered some cases where she resorted to punches and hit the wrong people.

The other thing is that some men in the Tower didn’t find muscles very attractive in a woman, nor her punching almost any enemy. Most of them were mages.

“If it helps, I must admit, your combat abilities are very well trained and polished,” he wasn’t lying, he always saw Bryony when she was training with the rookies. She focused more on using the fists rather than magic to train reflexes, she has quite the flexibility. Bryony blushed a bit and warmly smiled. “There is weapon and combat training. Even without their abilities, templars are among the best warriors in Thedas. Initiates must also memorize portions of the Chant of Light, study history, and improve their mental focus.”

Cullen didn’t show it, but he was enjoying speaking of this topic with the Herald. Remembering the few moments of happiness was a luxury many templars weren’t allowed to have. And Bryony, a mage, was listening deeply to his words without judging.

“Did you enjoy your training?” she asked with such curiosity in her words. She is usually interested in anything related with training, but today her focus was the Commander, getting to know him slowly.

“I wanted to learn everything. If I was giving my life to this, I would be the best templar I could.” He said while remembering the first day he slept on his new bed, very away in one of the castles the Order used for training new recruits. That night he couldn’t sleep very much since he was excited for his new lessons.

“You were a model student.” Bryony used her comical side afterwards. The Herald couldn’t stop looking at his eyes, they were brimming cheerfully like a young kid receiving a birthday gift. Cullen couldn’t help but laugh at it, he felt a bit ashamed.

“I wanted to be. I wasn’t always successful. Watching a candle burn down while reciting the Chant of Transfigurations wasn’t the most exciting task. I admit, my mind sometimes wandered,” Cullen said while remembering a time he almost fell asleep in front of the Knight Commander while doing said task. He cleaned the corridors for a week after that. But he wasn’t alone, one of the captains kept him company always, “what about you? Were you a model student?” He asked Bryony, meanwhile he noticed that Bryony took out another grape for her satchel, she faintly laughed at the question, then took a bite. She offered one to him again, this time he accepted.

“Actually, I was the complete opposite of it,” Cullen raised an eyebrow to that answer, there was a bit of a shameless smirk in the mage’s face, “I don’t know if you have noticed, but I’m not much of a believer in Andraste. Very ironic if you ask me.” She said while looking at her hand with the mark. “Instead of… mentally wandering, I would just snooze in many of my classes, especially the ones about the history of Andraste and the Maker. There were other classes as well in which I slept. The First Enchanter always had this specific punishment for me every day. But I learned in my own way. The mages in the Tower can’t deny that I made a good job by myself.” She said with confidence, then she remembered each night heading to the Tower’s kitchen as her punishment. Those were the times for the Herald.

“Punishment?” Cullen asked a bit worried. He immediately remembered some of the displays the templars used for conditioning some mages, mainly within the Gallows due to Meredith. “Were you treated inappropriately during your time in the Tower?” He asked without thinking.

For a split second there was a glimpse of horror in Bryony’s eyes. Did I step more than I should? Cullen thought.

“For the punishment, no. It was one of the few pleasant places I’ve stayed in. I was alone and no templars guarding me. We called it punishment so that the others would get scared if they slept in class. But I used that time for myself in training. Instead of listening boring lectures, I practiced on my own.” Bryony answered while eating another grape. Cullen noticed that she ate faster the grapes after the question.

There was a bit of relief from Cullen’s part after knowing that she wasn’t punished in a way similar to Kirkwall’s mages. But he saw that small second in which Bryony showed a bit of fear. At least for Cullen, he feels it is too soon to ask. It wouldn’t be fair since he has his own share of memories that wants to keep locked.

They needed to change the topic, and since the Commander’s abilities for socializing were just a complete mess, it was Bryony’s turn to save the day.

“How about another thing?” She asked, Cullen nodded happily. “Do templars take vows? ‘I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages’ – that sort of thing?” The Herald looked at the Commander with curiosity.

“There’s a vigil first…” Cullen continue explaining the process. He was surprised by the specific question, but he would comply if it took them out of the previous topic.

Bryony was listening carefully at his words, yet at the same time she remembered some of the templars inside the Tower. Some of the templars actually coexisted peacefully with the mages, some maybe had too much coexistence together. Sadly, most of them acted coldly and many talked about ‘respecting the vow’. The Herald never understood that part quite well, so she wanted to know if it was something the Ostwick’s templars invented or if it was a universal rule.

“As templars, we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgment. Our lives belong to the Maker and the path we have chosen.” Cullen finished explaining.

He mentioned many components Bryony already knew such as the first philter of lyrium. Cullen mentioned nothing related to socializing, but, most importantly, nothing related with fraternization.

“A life of service and sacrifice. Are templars also expected to give up… physical temptations?” She asked out of the blue with a firmly face, actually showing curiosity about the general topic. Cullen, on the other hand, stopped thinking properly.

“Physical? Why…” Not even the Maker could save him right now, he was having a hard time finding any word as an answer. He cleared his throat before carrying on. “Why would you… That’s not expected. Templars can marry – although there are some rules about it, and the Order must grant permission… Some may choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it’s… um, not required.” How he managed to find the words, heck, even formulating a sentence was a miracle already.

Cullen was lucky no one was watching them, much less listening to the actual conversation. The poor Commander started sweating a little bit, his usual awkward mannerisms began to show.

Why is she interested in that? She’s not interested that I… no, that would be completely inappropriate, although I’m no longer part of the Order, Cullen was trying to think of anything else, but the word “flirting” couldn’t escape his mind right now. Was the Herald actually flirting with the Commander? No, it can’t be. Cullen returned to his old self, when he would just run away from anyone that tried to flirt him, only that this time he was frozen solid in the ground. A part of him wanted to believe it was an actual flirting and pursue it properly this time.

Aha! So, it was an Ostwick thing then! Though the fool Herald. While Cullen was almost choking with his own breath and sweating in middle of a mild snowy day, Bryony was still thinking about the templars in the Tower. Many of the warriors would ignore the mages saying that they couldn’t fraternize or socialize due to some ‘vow’, now Bryony confirmed it was just a lame excuse.

Of course, she knew what was actually happening inside the Tower. Years ago, she uncovered the truth surrounding some templars, especially one whose relationship with Bryony was very close. So close that sometimes the memory haunted her.

But old stories are old, there’s no point in digging an old tomb, that’s what Bryony believes in. She is living in the present, and so, a new curiosity emerged from the Herald’s mind.

“Have you?” Bryony asked without thinking about the consequences of that question. Yet, curiosity can be a pain if not satiated. And the Herald did what she does best, asking in the most direct way.

Cullen was officially in panic.

“Me? I… um… no. I’ve taken no such vows. Maker’s breath – can we speak of something else?” He was losing it, one more question and an armored man would just sprint away from the Herald as fast as he could.

While this confirmed in a way whether Bryony is ‘flirting’ or not with the Commander, it became a backfire. There is a mixture of happiness, confusion and awkwardness within the ex-templar’s mind. Although panic is ruling his mind in this very instant.

Bryony’s brain cells finally connected, realizing the sort of question she made a few seconds ago. Suddenly her face turned aggressively red.

“Well… that should be enough training for now, don’t you think, Daniel? Daniel?” The rookie sheathed her sword and removed some droplets of sweat from her forehead. Daniel on the other side remained stiff while looking perplexed.

“Wha- what just happened right there?” Daniel asked Jessie while pointing behind her.

The rookie turned on her back and saw an interesting scene than no one else took notice of it.

The Commander stood frozen in place; his reddish head was gaining more color with each second. He isn’t naturally red, so he was clearly madly blushing in that spot.

Meanwhile, the Herald was heading towards the inside part of Haven, full opened eyes, mainly gazing at the floor rather at the road she was heading to. Cheeks bursting with red as well. She was fast pacing her walk.

“Wait… wha- what” Jessie tried to process the scene.

“What did we miss?!” Both of the recruits exclaimed in awe and regret.

That… um, that just happened. She left. Maker. Cullen was just thinking about the situation, now thinking that maybe those feelings he has aren’t one sided at all. Now the feeling and mindset became harder to ignore, as well as his desires.

I said what?! I can’t believe I asked that! I am so stupid! Briony, on the other hand, almost sprinted towards her cabin, slammed her door while closing it and threw herself towards her bed. Now, with her face embracing her pillow, she thought: Why am I like this?! Please, just… someone just send me to the Void!

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This chapter took me more time to write, I was busy with work ;-;

so far that's how the story goes, would you like to see small chapter dedicated to the companions and their interactions with the dense couple?

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oh yeah here’s some little notes about some of my ocs that i don’t rly mention? but they’re important

lukas is selectively mute! they’re perfectly capable of speaking, they just don’t like doing it. the only real instance you can catch them talking is while they’re at work. even then their voice is kinda gravelly from disuse and they’re very soft spoken. any other time if they don’t absolutely Have to speak, they will default to sign language or writing out what they want to say. there are only a couple occasions where they might speak outside of work and it honestly depends on who you are.

the boardwalk fire that made casper an avatar of the desolation also killed his boyfriend. even though casper was a bit of a functioning pyromaniac beforehand, it was actually his involvement in setting the fire and causing emilio’s death that drew the desolation to him (because of the whole loss thing). it was the point where fire changed for being comforting to understanding its true terror, but by that point the desolation had already claimed him. the wine red mark on his face is also from that incident.

rafe won’t call ellie his daughter. he’ll basically refer to her exclusively as his ward considering his involvement in her life is purely business related to him. she was placed into his custody as a protective motion since she is descended from a line of very powerful witches, and who else better to protect someone like that than a man who had been hunting and killing monsters for 30 odd years. that doesn’t stop ellie from calling him dad to annoy him though.

bryony’s relationship with her brother is very codependent. soren is the only one who’s shown her any real kindness in her life (especially compared to her parents) and so she’ll do anything for him. bryony will react very badly if you call her out on how unhealthy the relationship is and probably try to attack you if you do. she also occasionally sees her parents as ghosts though she doesn’t know if they’re actually haunting her or if it’s a hallucination.

We welcome Perrie Van Winkel to the city. She’s 22 years old and is an ice skater and physiotherapist. Perrie is often mistaken for Skyler Samuels. She’s open.

→ Background Information

Perrie was a very inquisitive child. She would always pick things up that she found out and about and bring them home, often calling them her ‘found things.’ Perhaps her favourite thing was fixing them up. As she grew up however, she had less and less time to do this as her mother forced her into ice skating classes. Perrie loved her mother of course and did enjoy the sport so went along with it. Before too long she was playing in regional and national competitions. There was talk of her joining an Olympic team but unfortunately Perrie lacked the competitive trait to make it. She was far too kind and wasn’t anywhere near ruthless enough.

→ Relocation Explanation

Growing up, Perrie only had her mother. It wasn’t until she turned 18 that her mom explained that she was born from an affair. Perrie’s father had been on a work trip away when he met her mother and their hooked up. Unfortunately he already had a pregnant wife back home - Which is why she hadn’t come on the trip. Some time went by and while Perrie grew to not care about her father, she grew more and more interested in her long lost sister. So she made some calls and found out that she had a half sister called Bryoni, in a new city called Libertas.

→ Living Situation

It’s thanks to the money from ice skating that Perrie was able to afford a place by herself. It’s not huge - Only a small apartment. But it’s hers and that’s what she likes. Despite living alone, she’s rarely actually alone though. Perrie is always inviting people over for a cup of green tea. There’s nothing she loves more than learning about peoples life stories. This works perfectly with the fact that comfort is the main aim for her home. Perrie has blankets a plenty, it’s always warm, and she picks the softest furnishings she possibly can. Her aim when decorating was to create a space where people felt like they could completely take a break from the outside world and feel safe.

→ Her Personality

Perrie is incredibly smart and always intrigued by new things. She ended up training as a physiotherapist because she had one while training as an ice skater and found what they did astounding. If she can try something out and master it, she will. While she can often get caught up in the fun of things, Perrie is generally incredibly mature. She’s calm and collected, and is good at managing difficult situations. When it comes to decision making on small things though, Perrie is useless. She’d much rather let someone else decide.

→ Her Qualities

Adventurous, caring, warm

Clumsy, naive, passive

→ Her Relationships

Moira Glissa & Spike Armstrong (Best friends): Perrie met Moira and Spike through Cole. They’re friends of his who came to meet him after training once, and then Cole introduced Perrie to them. Now, Perrie couldn’t imagine her life without them. They both have their own very different personalities but she adores them both so much. They are who Perrie goes to about everything now. She’s even started to get them both onto the ice themselves, which is something Cole is excited about too.

Cole Sled (Skating partner & friend): Although she works a full-time job now, Perrie couldn’t have ice skating not be part of her life still. So she started going to training sessions occasionally at a local ice rink. This was how she met Cole. They were partnered up as soon as they started to learn couple’s routines. Perrie was nervous at first but couldn’t be more thankful for having Cole in her life now.

Terence Curie (Acquaintance): She may be a well trained ice skater but that doesn’t mean slip ups never happen. Perrie ended up in hospital once for a slightly busted wrist and it was here she met Terence. Perrie was worried about healing and whether she’d have to take a break from skating. Terence listened fully to her and helped her as best as he could. Thankfully, she healed pretty quickly and was able to manage the pain easily thanks to Terence’s help and understanding.

→ Possible Connections

Bryoni Tinker (Half-sister): Bryoni is the main reason why Perrie is here in the first place but she’s still scared to meet her. Perrie has no idea how the woman will react. So she’s holding off actually finding her for now, but she is keeping an eye and ear out to see if anyone she meets knows her.

Sol Eun-ha (Acquaintance): Swimming is a great way to heal from any injuries so Perrie often takes classes to work on that skill. She’s a sportsperson after all and loves mastering anything she can. Han is a really nice and caring teacher. Perrie couldn’t appreciate her patience more. They don’t have a bunch of informal chats but the few they have done have been really lovely and make Perrie know she can trust Han.

Vidia Anluan (Acquintance): Before Perrie picked up ice skating again, she knew she’d need some physical training. So she booked up an instructor by  the name of Vidia. Perrie could tell easily early on that Vidia didn’t like her, but honestly as long as they respected each other when it came to actual training, that was all that was important.

→ Faceclaim Change:

Allowed | Not allowed | POC must | Discuss with admin

Suggestions: TBA

Perrie is based on Periwinkle the frost-talent fairy from the Tinker Bell franchise.

Prodigal Daughter: 4/4

For Day 5 of @oqpromptparty, a prequel to this verse when Bryony was a baby. #181: “I know you care for her, Regina, but I don’t want Zelena around my son.”

Also on AO3

There were certain things that only a reformed villain could understand. That being said, there were also certain things that they tried to see, even when they weren’t really there in the first place. Regina struggled with that, and she knew it. It didn’t become too much of a problem, until Zelena had the baby.

 The darkness had been taken out of Emma and Hook was dead. Things weren’t exactly calm, they’d never be that way in Storybrooke, but it was giving everyone a chance to work out their issues. Emma had sold her house and moved back in with her parents, to repair the damage her lies had done to their relationship. Henry was working on forgiving her for what she had done during that time. Rumpelstiltskin and Belle were battling their own issues now that he was the Dark One again, and she was pregnant.

 Robin and Regina were trying to find their own footing as well. He, Roland and the baby had moved into the mansion permanently. Their romantic relationship was stronger than ever, and they knew that nothing was going to get in their way again. Henry was perfectly happy with the arrangement; Roland had adjusted beautifully. The baby, now named Bryony, was thriving under the care of Regina and Robin. There was just one problem…Zelena.

 No longer in prison, she wanted to see her child. Regina took her a couple of times a week so they could bond, while Robin stayed behind. He trusted his partner to make sure that Bryony would be safe and knew deep down that Zelena would never do anything to hurt her own child. He was in therapy for what she had put him through and he was working on forgiving her. He’d never be able to be alone in the same room as her, but maybe one day, they could actually co-parent without him wanting to scream.

 Things got less simple when one day, Zelena popped by the house unannounced, claiming she desperately needed a baby fix. All of the kids were home and Robin suddenly felt an urge of protectiveness. He asked Henry to take Roland upstairs and Regina took Zelena onto the porch to explain why this couldn’t happen and that clearly, she was having a bit of manic episode and needed to talk to Archie. It all ended in a huge argument, with Zelena storming off and not seeing the baby at all.

 When Regina came back inside, Robin was feeding Bryony and cuddling her closer than normal. She sat beside him and put a hand on his arm. “She’s gone now.”

“I know. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Look, I’m not trying to protect myself here. I know I can, and I know that she would never hurt her own daughter.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Robin let out a sigh. “I know you care for her, Regina, but I don’t want Zelena around my son.”

Regina bit down on her lip. “Robin…”

“She tricked him, just as much as she did me. I know we made it so he has no memory of that time and she treated him well, but it doesn’t change that anything could’ve happened. I don’t truly believe she would’ve hurt him, but what if she tried to take him from me? Or turn him against us?” Regina’s face fell. Clearly, she knew he was right to have this anxiety. “Like I said, he can’t remember any of it, but I know that it happened to him. I can still think about it. And I just can’t handle the possibility of her being around him.”

 Robin had expected a fight, but to his surprise, Regina was quiet for a few minutes. She didn’t look upset or hurt by this request, instead, she was deep in thought.

 “I think you need to file for full custody,” she said, finally.

Robin tilted his head. “Of Roland?”

“No, Bryony. Look, as of right now, there’s nothing stopping Zelena from coming over here and seeing her. Hell, there’d be nothing stopping her from taking her and disappearing. I don’t think she’d do that, but this way, there will be boundaries. We’ll keep up the visitations, with me bringing Bryony to her and have it in writing as to when those will be. And we’ll include that she can’t go anywhere near Roland.”

“I didn’t expect you to agree so easily.”

“She may be my sister, Robin, and I’m trying to help her be a better person but that doesn’t mean that her actions don’t have consequences. Snow doesn’t want her around Neal either. And if Emma was still a small child when the curse broke and she didn’t want me around her, I’d get that too. Forgiveness is important, but that doesn’t mean that you have to be around the person that hurt you. That’s one thing I’ve learned through all of this.”

 Regina looked down at the baby in his arms, stroking her chubby cheek.

 “We still don’t know what we’re going to tell her one day, about any of this. It’s not just her we need to worry about, though. We need to protect Roland and Henry too. They need to come first.”

Robin scooted closer to her and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“It’s what I’m here for.”

 Unfortunately, Zelena wouldn’t take the custody suit very well. Despite them all saying that with help, in time things could be different, she was just too emotional to handle all of it. In the end, she went back to Oz, leaving Bryony behind. Robin could tell she was heartbroken and he couldn’t blame her. Regina had gone to bat for her sister and fought for her so much. Then, as soon as Zelena didn’t get what she wanted, she was gone. This time, Robin would have to be the one to be there to support Regina, which he would happily do a million times over.

Performance Evaluation

Post 7 - Performance Evaluation

The final performance we had was very successful, I believe it went incredibly well and I’m overall extremely happy with the piece performed. There are many aspects of the show that worked effectively for various reasons, the message was clearly communicated with the audience, we used our setting successfully and we had plenty of moments of pure movement to help physicalise the individual stories we were telling. 

Devising a show of this variety, with such serious yet taboo topics involved, was never an easy process to revolve around an online setting in our own private homes.  Despite these challenges, we as a group, wanted to use being in our bedrooms to our advantage as much as possible, and really engage the background into the piece. This was one thing that really benefited the performance as a whole, especially with the use of the posters relating to each theme in the background behind us. Props are an aspect of the show that I definitely would have used had this performance been on campus under normal circumstances, so I didn’t want to rule that out due to being in an online setting. 

Another detail of this performance that was valuable in portraying the message of struggle, specifically for me,  in terms of men’s mental health, was the shadows overlapping myself and Charlotte’s monologues. Our main goal was to really exaggerate each feeling we were describing. Specifically in my monologue, I was describing a lot of physical moments such as reaching out for help, looking into yourself and going to therapy. Although these words are so strong alone, we wanted to take it that step further and really show how powerful this could be by having the movement with the shadows. This is just another example of how you can really use your surroundings to your advantage, and to physicalise emotions in a simple yet effective way.  

A lot of inspiration for the use of the lighting and shadows in particular came from Bryony Kimmings, a performance artist we looked at during week eight of the original blog post. We looked at Kimming’s 2015 show ‘Fake It Til You Make It’ which explores her financé’s battle with chronic depression and anxiety. Despite the piece matching perfectly to what I was looking at within ‘THINK’, being men’s mental health, it wasn’t actually this that I took so much inspiration from. For me, it was the imagery and symbolism used by the pair that I really want to incorporate into our piece. There’s a particular moment in the show where the two are standing side by side, Bryony singing into a microphone and Tim playing the guitar with a cloud over his head, covering his face and eyes completely from the audience. The way the couple create a physical representation here of a clear battle with mental health is extraordinary. Men in particular struggle so much to talk openly about their mental health due to this idea from society that you have to ‘be strong’ and ‘keep going’. Therefore, when you’re stuck in a negative mindset you can often feel like shutting down and pushing yourself away from your close friends and family, something which this cloud image portrays so accurately, as if you’re blinded to see how things will ever get better. 

Like Bryony’s staging here, I wanted to really communicate that this can happen to anyone no matter your age, race or circumstances. This is where the shadows really excell as that darkness, the silhouette created doesn’t show a face or any physical features of a person, it almost represents a blank screen, portraying not one character but anyone.  

Adding to this, despite our words obviously  telling a very clear, important message, this could also be supported by our moments of movement seen in the piece. As well as further movement we choreographed individually, mine being the smudging and later removal of makeup, which signifies the sorrow, struggle and rollercoaster of emotions dealing with mental health issues can cause. I later took this off completely and went bare faced to further show the transition from a female character to male. 

The performance on a whole was successful due to our verbatim style of structure throughout the piece. Sometimes verbatim theatre can be difficult to stage, due to the interview-style process of creating a script, as character’s don’t have direct conversations with one another it can sometimes seem like several monologues in a row, rather than a performance as a group. This is something I was very cautious of going into the process, as I wanted the five of us to really connect throughout the piece, this is where the movement we did in unison comes into play, such as the use of lighting and blowing out candles. A candle light can signify many things, but for me personally, it represented hope for those who are currently battling the issues we addressed, and loss of those who may have passed away, whether that be from mental health issues, domestic violence or homophobic related bullying and stigma. This was a personal thing for each of us as actors and was also up to each audience member as to the message they wanted that image to convey. 

To Conclude, the performance of ‘THINK’ as a whole was successful for not only the way we staged it and the use of movement throughout but also as each story told include such taboo issues in today’s society, it was so interesting and an honour as an actor to explore topics that carry such an important message behind them.

ahhhg! i love you're writing so much!! please never ever stop. how about some hc with lazy fluffy cuddles?

A/N: omg that means so much to me!!!!! you have no idea how happy i get when people compliment my writing! i hope you like this!!

➤ when dan has a cold, he likes to be showered with love. well, we all know he likes to be showered with love all the time, but he feels particularly needy when he’s sick. luckily he also had the best boyfriend who accepts the chance of also getting a cold and cuddles with him, making sure their bodies are fitting perfectly together as they try to watch a movie while dan coughs and sneezes every two minutes. 

➤ dan and phil probably aren’t as romantic as people seem to picture them, but sometimes, phil has to admit they’re disgustingly sweet. cuddling is something they cherish a lot, maybe more than kissing. phil loves the feeling of holding dan or being held by him. he likes to just sit on the couch, feel dan’s hair against his neck, his warm breath hitting his collarbone and the skin of his arm soft under phil’s touch. 

➤ phil probably has a special love for winter, not only because he’s obsessed with snow, but because he enjoys the cold. he had always enjoyed it, but since it became an excuse to cuddle dan all the time the season got even more appreciated. “i’m feeling cold, warm me up!”, he demands jokingly, opening his arms and pouting as dan rolls his eyes, a fond smile on his lips. “c’mere, you spork”, and phil can hear the love everytime his boyfriend calls him that, it’s like he’s saying something like “babe” or “love”. it’s so them that phil has to go as fast as he can inside dan’s arms. he feels safe.

➤ phil told dan that, before him, none of his past lovers liked to cuddle as much as him. dan still couldn’t understand who wouldn’t want to cuddle phil as much as they wanted to make love to him. because the thing is: phil is great at both. when he pulls dan into his arms, the younger boy feels like he’s floating, like he’s invencible. being inside phil’s arms is like finally finding the answer to an important question you never asked. it’s not desperate, it’s just right and even though you didn’t know before, all you needed.

➤ phil remembers how he described dan’s smell. “he smells like warm”, he typed and he was so infatuated with the boy, that he knows his heart swelled while he remembered holding dan so close he could press his nose on his neck and just breathe him in. warm was the perfect word to describe dan. he has a warm smile, a warm voice, warm eyes, a warm heart. 

➤ there’s not such a thing as the right time for cuddles to dan and phil. the right time is all the time. while watching a movie, while eating breakfast, while having bryony and wirrow over, while editing a particularly hard video, while scrolling through tumblr. they just love to feel so close and so in love, knowing that anyone who saw them all tangled together would see how much they love each other. it’s a great feeling.

Homeless

74 “Wait… a-are you saying you’re kicking me out?” I squealed. He looked like he didn’t want to repeat it, but I could tell from the look on his face that that was exactly what he was saying. My landlord was kicking me out. Three nights before, I’d sat in silence until the police arrived at my flat. They’d had a quick look around, and it genuinely barely looked like they’d done a thing, and then they told me they would get in touch, and then they left. Harry had sat in silence with me. We’d been close. Close to opening up, and close to me finally talking about my feelings, but as I sat there in my trashed, empty flat, I couldn’t find the words to say. Not just about that, but about anything. I was totally lifeless. Then he’d gone home, and I’d gone up to sleep on Mo’s sofa. And I hadn’t spoken with him since. No matter how many times he’d called.

“There were no signs of a break in.” He sighed. “Which means you left the door open, something you’ve done more than once.” “No I haven’t!” I lied. “Every time I’ve come round to fix your boiler, the door has been open.” He folded his arms. “That’s a fair point! Every time the boiler was broken, it always took you like, a week to come and fix it, and I didn’t shout at you once.” He gave me a discontented stare. “Well… Okay! Maybe I yelled at you once or twice, but it always took you fucking ages. You owe me!” He sighed again, looking down to the floor briefly before he looked back at me, tucking his lips inwards, clearly sympathetic, but not sympathetic enough. “You’re just not a trustworthy tenant. I’m sorry, Florence, but I need you out by the end of the week.” I stood in silence as he dragged his feet out of the place I could call home until Sunday evening, and I couldn’t even put up a fight. With tears in my eyes, I watched him leave, sad and frustrated but not quizzical. My stupidity had left me here. My stupidity had also meant that my insurance wouldn’t cover anything. I couldn’t blame him, really. I was unreliable. I don’t think I’d rent out somewhere to me, either. But it still stung. I flopped myself down on my sofa, one of the few things that remained in my home, and I wiped my tears away before I let them fall. I only had myself to blame for this, and I didn’t want to turn myself into the victim. I didn’t want to pity myself and cry and let everything get on top of me. I needed to suck it up. Deal with everything. The only thing that could possibly make me more pathetic in that moment, was if I started crying. That’s what I thought, at least. Until there was a knock on my door. I slumped towards it, hoping it would be my landlord saying he had changed his mind, but knowing it wouldn’t be. I opened the door to my therapist. I really was pathetic. “Bryony!” I gasped. “What are you doing here?” “It’s Thursday.” She simply said. “I know.” I lowered my brows. “Your sessions are on Wednesdays. You didn’t show. Why?” I hadn’t even thought about it. It felt like I’d been completely blank since Monday night, in all honesty. I’d floated from one day to the next, barely thinking of anything. I’d stayed at Mo’s the entire time, too uncomfortable in my home to stay there for too long, but he could barely get a word out of me. A therapy session was the last thing on my mind. I opened my door a little wider to her, inviting her into my flat with literal open arms, silently instructing her to look around the place. Her heels rang a deep tone as she walked across my wooden floor, glancing around the place with low eyes. “Someone broke in on Monday night.” I told her. “I’m sorry. I’ve kind of… I’ve been a bit all over the place, to be honest.” “Are you okay?” She whipped back round to face me. “I’m actually fine.” I chuckled, closing the door. “I mean… It’s my own fault. I should have seen it coming, really. I was constantly forgetting to lock my door, so, I was more or less asking for it. I’ve been a bit… distant, I guess. But I’m genuinely okay.” She briefly studied my home, and I imagined she was trying to picture what it would look like when it was full; what it looked like when it had inhabited my possessions. I think that might have been one of the reasons she’d decided to visit in the first place, rather than just calling. She had been hoping to scope out a part of my life she hadn’t been able to previously, like maybe that would help her in her quest to help me. She was having to conjure some images up in her head. “Do you need to talk?” She asked me softly. I shrugged, but I felt like even if I’d said no she would have made herself at home and spoken with me anyway. She went and sat down on my sofa, and I felt rude for not offering her a drink but I didn’t have anything to offer. I slowly walked into the living room to join her, folding my arms but feeling too weird to sit down with her. She looked like this was perfectly normal, a delicate smile on her lips as she continued to look around. I stood awkwardly looking down to my feet. “How are you really feeling?” She questioned. “I’m a bit… shook up. It feels… weird that someone was in my home. In my space. I just… I think I was just getting used to it all and calming down, but… my landlords just been in and said he doesn’t want me living here anymore. I’m kinda… I’m all over the place.” I concluded. She nodded, trying to think of a sensible thing to say to me, but it wasn’t hard to just admit that I was in a terrible situation. It wasn’t like I could go home. I couldn’t stay with my mum and dad whilst I found my feet. I couldn’t even stay with Mo for much longer. His place was as small as mine, and he had been on edge the entire time, just waiting for his mum to make one of her random visits and have an absolute breakdown over the fact he was living with a girl. Every noise from the hallway had made him jump. I felt stuck. “You need to be somewhere you feel comfortable. Around people who make you comfortable. It’s the only way you’ll be able to feel regular during such an irregular time.” She instructed. “Do you have anyone you can stay with? Friends? Colleagues?” “Probably Niall.” I shrugged, finally moving to sit on the sofa with her. “He’s already offered his spare room to me. He’s like… one of my best friends.” “I strongly advise you take that offer.” “I will.” I nodded. “How are you feeling in general?” She then asked. “How are you feeling in yourself?” I began twiddling my fingers, not feeling sad over the question like I often did, but more along the lines of contemplative. I was trying to think how I really felt, because she was an easy person for me to open up to, at that stage. I’d gone from being reluctant to share anything with her, purposefully withholding things, to knowing she was the one person I could be completely honest with. I even found myself being more honest with myself, when she asked me questions. Her asking the right things, could lead to me admitting things I didn’t realise I needed to admit. It was nice, how far I’d come because of her. How far we’d come in terms of my therapy. “Okay.” I sighed, nodding somewhat. “I feel okay.” “And how you do think our new technique is working?” “Spreading good vibes and stuff?” “Yes.” “It’s going well, I think.” I sighed. “It’s nice. And, I think I’m not making it too obvious. Like, people aren’t really picking up on it, which I prefer. Because then it’s almost like a subconscious thing, rather than a forced thing. I like it. I think it’s nice.” She seemed happy I’d said that. Despite the vast array of people she spoke to and dealt with in her job, I somehow knew that I was one of her more difficult clients, or at least I used to be. I was unwilling and hesitant, sceptical and cynical and at times, I’d be downright rude. It must have been difficult for her to find a sufficient way of getting through to me, and I could see how happy she was now that she had. Her ideas and her words were working, and when she smiled, I wasn’t sure whether she was more happy for me, or for herself. “That’s good. I’m glad it seems to be working for you.” “I just… I hope it bounces back, like you think it will.” I breathed heavily. “That would be nice.” We sat in silence for a few minutes, and it was always during those silences that I worried what she would say next. Usually, when we were in her office, she’d fill the silences by jotting down things in her notepad, etching words onto the paper that she believed summed me up and broke me down to something more simple. But she didn’t have her book, she was just looking at me. “Florence, when are you hoping these therapy sessions will stop?” I finally took my eyes to hers, confusion creasing my brows closer, because suddenly the thought of no longer going to therapy every single Wednesday was somewhat uncomfortable. It had become part of my routine, and it was something that now put me at ease. “Um, I dunno.” I sulked. “When I’m happy, I guess.” “I was worried you were going to say that.” She shook her head and chuckled. “What’s wrong with that?” “I think it’s important to remember that happiness is an emotion, Florence, not a goal. And it’s a complicated emotion at that. In my job, I speak with a lot of people who have wonderful lives, and they can’t quite figure out why they’re sad. It will be great, when you start feeling better, and I think you’re already well on your way.” I nodded in agreement. “But it’s natural for us to strive to want more, and it’s natural for us to change what happiness means to us. Happiness for you a few months ago, was ignoring your issues. Now happiness is the idea of solving them, correct?” With tears in my eyes, I nodded again, only then realising that setting pure bliss and happiness as my goal had been a ridiculous thing to do. She wasn’t saying that I’d never be happy, but simply that happiness alters, appears as different shapes and in diverse shades as our lives change. “Yes.” I shuddered, wiping under my eyes. “So, when do you think you’ll stop coming to therapy?” I felt my whole body shaking as I tried to think of a new answer, a new goal to set myself. Over Christmas, my goal had been to speak to my parents; that had been the bargain that meant I would no longer need to go to therapy, but I felt like so much hand changed since then. I felt like I had changed so much since then. I still needed to speak with them, but that wasn’t my main focus. “One day, I’m going to wake up,” I breathed. “And confidently tell myself that I deserve more. That’s the day. That’s when I’ll stop.” “Are you not already there?” I had been trying to tell myself that I deserved more than I had. That I was worth more than bitter words, twisted judgement, and being at the back end of favouritism, but I wasn’t sure I ever fully believed it. But one day I would. One day I would tell myself I deserved more than I’d been handed and I would completely believe it. I could almost see that day, like the bright horizon was already teasing my vision. But I was yet to see the full sunrise. “Not quite.” I smiled. She nodded, another small smile on her lips before she got back up to her feet, brushing her coat down. I quickly leaped up to join her. “We’ll talk more on Wednesday.” She sighed. “If you’re feeling up to it.” “Yes. Yeah, I’ll be there, I promise.” “Until then, get yourself somewhere familiar, somewhere you can gather yourself and find your feet.” “I will. Thank you, again.” She began walking to the door, and I followed her coyly, glad she’d decided to make an impromptu visit, because I already felt better than I had. She tugged on my door handle, opening it wide and standing in my doorway before she turned around, something else to say.  “You want to know something else I’ve noticed?” “What?” I asked, eager intrigue attached to the word. “At the end of every session, you used to say, thank you for your time, like you felt as though you were wasting it. Now, you just say thank you.” My face dropped, and I just silently watched her walk away from me, a smug little look on her face. It was only in that moment that I fully accepted that the progress we had made hadn’t just been entirely conscious. It hadn’t just been me going in there with a different attitude, or voicing things and talking about things because she’d asked me to. Little things that I hadn’t even took note of were changing, small pieces of progress I hadn’t even noted slowly adding up and making me realise that I was really getting somewhere. These minor alterations had been subconsciously occurring over the months, and I hadn’t even known. I slowly closed my door, feeling lost for a few minutes, and then I practically ran, darting into my kitchen and picking up my phone as quickly as I could. Shaking, I dialled, holding the phone up to my ear, my stomach in knots. Harry answered within seconds. “Ren,” I could hear the quiver in his voice. “Hey!” “Hi.” I swallowed the thick shame that was wedged in my throat. “How are you?” “I… Yeah, I’m fine. How are you?” “I’m okay. I just… I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Things have been… weird. I’ve felt weird. It was nothing to do with you. It was me, and I’m sorry.” “That’s okay!” He gasped quickly. “That’s completely understandable. As long as you’re okay.” Harry was shockingly understanding. I’d ignored him and his efforts to reach me since Monday, and even though it had only been a few days, it felt like it had been years since I last heard his voice. He had every right to be mad with me for ignoring him after what had happened on Monday night, but he wasn’t. For a split second, the thought crossed my mind. I don’t deserve him. Angry at myself, I kicked my foot, my toes crashing against my kitchen cupboard, and it hurt ten times more than I had been anticipating. “OW FUCK YOU FUCKING PRICK!” “Ren? Ren, what’s happening? Are you okay?” “I’m fine!” I whimpered, leaning down and stumbling as I grabbed at my injured toes. “What happened?” Unsteady on my feet, as always, I fell backwards, landing with a harsh thud on my bum, in the middle of the kitchen floor, my bottom lip stuck right out and cradling my poor toes. “I kicked the cupboard.” I pouted. “What?” He sniggered. “Why?” “Because I’m mad at myself. Look, it’s not important. I have a weird question to ask. And when I say weird, I mean weird, but it’s like… You would be doing me the biggest favour ever, but Dr Jackson told me I need to be somewhere comfortable and be familiar and I think that… No, fuck, okay, the thing is, when-” “C’mon, Ren, just spit it out.” “Can I live with you?” I’d spurred a silence on the other end of the line. I mean, I wasn’t sure I was expecting other than silence, really. It wasn’t just some simple request that he could grant without a second thought. Of course he was going to struggle to find a sensible response. But Harry was that person. He made me feel at ease without even meaning to. He made me feel like myself, and that was what I needed. “Ren-” “You don’t have to!” I cut him off. “I know I’m asking a lot, but… I don’t know. My landlord doesn’t want me living here anymore, and I just need somewhere to stay whilst I find my feet and figure out my next move. I just… You live near my work and… You have a big place and I promise I won’t get in the way and-” “Would you stop rambling!” He cried. “It’s a yes. It would have been a yes no matter your situation. Yes, you can crash here. For as long as you need.” I don’t know why I expected any different. Maybe because of how complicated our friendship was, maybe because he lived in that beautiful open-plan apartment, maybe because he didn’t want to have me under his feet, maybe because moving in with him somehow felt normal at the same time as feeling like I’d taken a leap, maybe because I’d once again ignored him whilst I battled my emotions. But all those things came second, because Harry knew I needed some help, and I needed a friend, and he was happy to be that to me. “You’re wonderful.” I told him quietly, eyes down on my kitchen floor. “I’m working, until seven.” He told me. “Feel free to come round any time after that, okay? Bring everything you need.” “I don’t have very much.” I chuckled. “A fair point.” He managed to laugh with me. “Is that the stage you’re at now? Making jokes?” “Looks like it.” I shrugged. “Okay. As long as I know.” He snorted. “Well, I need to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight though, yeah?” “Are you sure about this?” I questioned. “Positive. I’ll see you later.” “Bye, Curls.” With another low chuckle, he hung up, and I flopped backwards so I was laying facing the ceiling, trying to piece together my thought process, and how it felt like I’d been calling him before I was even aware of what I was doing. I cursed to myself, already annoyed over the words and the looks my friends would give me once I told them I’d decided to move in with Harry. But I didn’t care. Not really. 75 “I don’t know how I feel about this.” Mo complained as we climbed the stairs up to Harry’s floor. “It’s fine. It’s good. Harry is great.” “I’m not doubting that Harry is great, I’m doubting how sensible it is to move in with your ex-boyfriend! You’re gunna fall back in love with him.” “I was never in love with him in the first place!” “Alright then, well you’ll fall in love with him for the first time!” “Have we ever spoken about how much of a hopeless romantic you are?” I turned to look at him, grinning his way. “Because you totally are.” He shrugged, because he was probably well aware of it. Mo was the type of boy who read books about love, about the spirit and the soul and finding a ‘life partner’ because that was one of the main things he wanted from his life. To meet a girl he could fall hopelessly in love with. He was currently having to project all that on me. “I’m gunna try and intimidate him.” He moved the conversation along. “Oh my god.” I laughed, finally reaching the top floor. “Don’t laugh at me! I can be intimidating.” “You’re about as intimidating as ten puppies frolicking through a field.” “Someone who is afraid of puppies and open spaces would definitely find that intimidating.” “Well, until you find me that person, I’m gunna say your point is invalid.” “You’ll see.” We only had a few bags between us. Most of the things I owned has been taken, and the furniture in there came with the flat. Thankfully, I had most of my clothes, but they’d smashed my TV and taken everything down to my fucking forks. I think the thing that hurt the most, was that they’d taken my Titanic DVDs. Both of them. That stung. The bags we were carrying mainly consisted of books, clothes, and towels. It was the first time I’d felt glad that I didn’t actually own very much. A little nervous, we stopped outside Harry’s door, and just when I was about to knock, Mo stopped me. “If this all ends up going terribly wrong,” He rushed. “You always have a place at mine. I know it’s not ideal, but if this doesn’t work out, you move straight back in with me, okay?” “I’m still coming to visit. A lot. I miss you already.” I shrugged. “Don’t. I’m getting emotional. I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about it but… That building has lost all its appeal now you don’t live there, y’know? I’m gunna hate not having you so close.” I could feel myself getting emotional, which was ludicrous because I knew I’d still see a lot of him, but I guess it was the first time I realised that there would no longer just be a floor between us. If I wanted to see Mo, it would take more effort than me banging my mop on the ceiling. Mo had been my home, much more that that flat had. I hoped I’d always feel that way. “I love you. You know that, right?” “I do.” He nodded. “And I love you too.” I would have hugged him, but we both had too many bags to even bother attempting it, so I just gave him a kind smile, taking a deep breath in before I finally looked back in front of me, and knocked on Harry’s door. He answered so quickly I was half convinced he’d just been waiting on the other side of the door just waiting for me to arrive. His smile grew as soon as he saw me, crawling up his cheeks and lighting his eyes. I could almost see Mo rolling his eyes at the two of us already, but I didn’t turn around to confirm it. “Hi.” I said breathlessly. “Hi. Come in.” He held the door wide as the two of us scurried inside. “You must be Mo.” “What’s it to you?” He scalded. I whipped my head around immediately, just about to say something, but within a second Mo had slapped his hand against his mouth, clearly completely in shock over what he’d just done. “Mo!” I cried. “I’m so sorry.” His words mumbled against the palm of his hand. “I was trying to do this intimidating friend thing and I’ll have to admit defeat because I just can’t. I’m sorry. I promise I’m not rude.” I looked at Harry, who still looking completely confused by what had just happened, but he let out a light chuckle, moving to hold his hand out to Mo, who quickly took it. “I’m Harry.” “Mohammad. Sorry, again.” “Don’t worry about it, man.” He sniggered. “I think I’m a bit protective over her too.” “Well someone bloody needs to be. She can barely look after herself.” “Hey! Stop it you two.” I demanded. They both looked very pleased with themselves as the handshake came to an end, grinning at me as Mo dropped my bags by the front door. I gently put my bags down, shaking my head at the two of them. “I best go. You need anything, just ring me, okay?” Mo pointed at me. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping.” “Nice to meet you, Harry.” “You too, man” “I’ll see you soon, Ren. Byeeee!” We both said our goodbyes to him as he backed out of there, giving us a small wave, and then leaving me and Harry alone in my new, impermanent home. Harry turned to face me fully, taking a deep breath in before he smiled, and we were both completely stuck for something to say. I snapped. “Fuck.” I gasped. “Is this us involving ourselves in yet another completely insane plan, that we’re just going to go through with anyway?” “It’s likely.” He tittered. “I don’t know why I chose you.” I rushed my words. “Dr Jackson told me I needed to be somewhere comfortable, and all I could think of was you.” Although he was silent, I could see it within the sparkle of his eye, that he was rather overwhelmed by what I had just said, but it was the truth. I thought back to the time we’d spent together over Christmas, how happy he had made me, how at ease I’d felt when I was with him. Our situation had been complicated, something I’d wanted to walk away from before I’d even walked into it, and he somehow still managed to soothe my mind and make it enjoyable. I needed that kind of feeling again, and I knew that Harry could give me that. After blushing down to his feet for a few seconds, he lifted his head back to me, a wonderful and tender smile splaying his lips. “Welcome home.” He simply said. I looked around myself, and I got to be reminded of how beautiful his apartment was. Those giant windows, the red brick, the open layout of the place, the art he had hanging from the walls, the dark oranges and browns and leather and wood. It truly was a breath-taking place to be within. I was lucky enough to be calling it home, even if it was just for a short while. I glanced to my side, seeing Moggy and her bright blue eyes staring at me from on top of his bed, and I think she was silently judging me. “Moggy, say hi!” Harry instructed. She meowed my way, and my heart near burst. I’d forgotten how cute it was that his cat replied to him every time he spoke to her directly. “That’s just so adorable.” I fluttered. “Give her some time to get used to you, and she’ll be less miserable, I promise.” I then moved my eyes to his sofa, seeing the thick duvet that he’d arranged perfectly, with a plump pillow on one side. “That genuinely looks better than the bed at my flat.” I sniggered. “Thank you.” “Uh… No.” He mumbled. “I want you to take my bed. That… The sofa is for me.” I felt frustrated, automatically. I don’t know why I was surprised, to be honest, because it was completely in Harry’s nature to offer his bed alongside everything else he was already doing for me, but for some reason I found myself wanting to shout at him for being so bloody nice that it was verging on irrational. “No.” I folded my arms. “Yes.” He folded his. “It’s my place, my decision.” “No. Absolutely not. You’re already doing enough for me, and that’s too much.” “Why is it?” “Because do you not think you have a hard enough time sleeping anyway, Harry?” I scalded. “I’m not then going to let you kip on the couch for however long I’ll be here. It’s just not going to fucking happen, okay? It’s not my home, it’s yours. You stay in your own bed and I’ll stay there, okay?” He didn’t have any more fight in him, because we both knew I was right. Harry didn’t need a single other factor that would make his evenings sleep any more torturous than it already was, and he deserved to sleep in his own bed and bloody stay there. I wouldn’t have anything else said about it. He looked like he was trying to think of some kind of way to sway me, but he couldn’t. Nothing he could ever say would make me be okay with taking his bed when he had a perfectly good sofa for me to spend my nights on, and I could sleep peacefully knowing that Harry was just a few feet away from me, snug in his own bed. “You’ve done enough.” I continued, my voice calming. “I’m not budging on this.” “No,” He lowered his head again. “I know you’re not.” “So you’ll drop it?” I raised my brows. “Fine.” He grumbled. It felt like I’d just shouted at a child, and now he was all sulky and pouty and I hated myself for it automatically. Not wasting another second, I rushed over to him, and he didn’t lift his head until the very final second, where my body crashed against his and I threw my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to hug him as tightly as I physically could. He soon nestled his nose into my neck, his arms crossing around my back, and he held me just as tightly, a silence constructing itself between the two of us as we lost ourselves in one another. Nothing felt more important in that moment as having his arms around me did, almost as though every other useless worry of my life fell apart around us. It was just him and me. “Thank you.” I whispered, gripping my eyes shut. “I’m so glad you’re here.” His voice was just as hushed. “All I’ve thought about all week is what might have happened if you were in your flat when they broke in. I just… I don’t know what I would have done.” “But I’m okay.” I slowly ran my hand down his long hair. “But if you weren’t… I… Fuck, I’m just so glad you’re here. I’m so glad you’re safe.” His hands widened against my back, his fingers gripping and clasping at me as though he needed the confirmation even still, that I was okay. I never wanted to unwrap myself from his snug snare, and being within his grasp made me feel even worse for ignoring him all week. I’d ignored most people, really, but I shouldn’t have ignored Harry and I knew that. “I’m sorry.” I said again. “It’s okay, Ren. It’s okay that you shut down, just don’t shut me out, okay?” “I promise.” I didn’t want to keep shutting him out and blocking my own feelings, even if it was the easier thing to do. Only a few days had gone without us talking, and I could feel the ache that it had brought me. “I missed you.” He spoke the words that were running through my mind. I think I tensed my hold even further, squeezing him forcefully, and I found myself feeling more at home than I ever had in my flat, just being in his arms. “I missed you too.” I wasn’t used to that feeling, missing someone after just a few days apart, and maybe it was down to how things had been left between us, but I really had missed him. I’m not sure how long I stayed in his arms, I only know I felt cold when we distanced. He looked down to me, and he looked a little lost for a second, his eyes searching over my face, his throat hitching as I gazed back up to him. “I… I’m sorry to do this,” He swallowed. “I think I should probably be a better host, but I barely got any sleep last night and I’m knackered. I’m gunna… go to bed. Feel free to watch the tele and stuff but… I’m on the verge of falling asleep.” Staying true to myself, I had been running late, and it was going on 10pm so I couldn’t blame him for wanting to get to bed. “It’s okay. I’m tired too. It’s been a draining day, to say the least.” “You sure? I know it’s a bit weird, because it’s open plan in here, but you can stay up if you want.” “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” He nodded, and I’m not sure he believed me, but I genuinely was exhausted. I felt like I’d gone through a million emotions that day, and even though I hadn’t had much to move, there’s something about moving from one place to another than just completely takes it out of you. I darted to one of my bags, routing through and pulling out the first baggy t-shirt I could find, ready to prepare myself for bed. When I turned back around to face Harry, he had his hands on his hips and a grumpy little look on his face. “Is that my Joy Division t-shirt?” He asked. I gripped it closer to my chest, giving him the most innocent smile I could conjure, which probably still looked incredibly guilty. “Yes.” I admitted. “I always knew you were a thief. I called it as soon as you saw my Christmas shirt.” “No… I… I brought it back for you!” I held it for him. “I accidentally packed it after we stayed at yours.” “Liar.” He sniggered. “Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.” With bright red cheeks, I said thank you, and then ran off to his bathroom, which thankfully, was cut off from the rest of the apartment. I readied myself for an evening’s sleep, trying not to think of the inevitable. I hadn’t seen one of his dreams since December, and it was almost like I had been trying to block the memory. I could hardly remember how I’d handled them, what had helped and what hadn’t. I didn’t know how things would go, I didn’t even know if he’d want me to try and comfort him like I used to. So I just tried not to think about it. I really fucking tried. A few minutes later, I let myself back out, turning to my right and seeing Harry was already in bed, the duvet gathered around his hips, his body on show and Moggy curled up on the spare side of his double bed as he ran his fingers through her fur, watching me as I scampered over to the sofa, trying to ignore his eyes following me from one side of the room to the other. I lifted the thick sheet and practically sunk into my new bed, drowning under the mass of comfort and it felt wonderful. I was suddenly more understanding of why Harry would have been okay to take the sofa. I heard a shuffling and then the lights went off, and the two of us lay there, the only sound filtering through the room was the soft purring coming from Moggy. I had to say something. “Thank you… Again.” I sighed. “You didn’t need to do this.” “I did.” “No you didn’t. Especially… after everything. I dunno. I just… I don’t know.” “No matter what happens, I will be here for you. Always. Because… I…” He fell silent, and I waited for a while, waited for him to finish what he was saying. But I was greeted with nothing but quiet. “Because you what, Harry?” I encouraged. “Because you mean a lot to me.” He sighed. “And if I can help, I will.” Goosebumps crept upon my skin as I closed my eyes, a subconscious smile blessing my lips as I settled down fully, sleep creeping to me. “Goodnight, Curls.” “Goodnight, Florence Daisy Valentine.” 76 My eyes shot open to darkness, and it took a few seconds for me to remember where I was. I heard him whimpering. My body bolted upright, my eyes adjusting to the dark as I glared across the room, and quickly noticed that his body was writhing on top of the mattress, his fingers pulling at the white bedsheets. My heart was beating hard. Moggy was down at the side of his bed, watching him, crying to him as I slowly lifted myself and tiptoed towards the two of them, and I hated that I was being introduced once more to the pain that coursed through my body when I saw him in that state. Once I got close enough, I saw a tear slipping from his eye. I stood at the side of his bed next to Moggy for a few seconds, staring down at his frame and hoping that it would pass, even though I should have known that it wouldn’t. I should have been able to admit to myself that it was only going to get worse, but sometimes it’s helpful and necessary to just try and remain dumb and blind to some things. Me telling myself that it would pass, that soon he’d stop struggling, was one of the only ways I got through the torment of seeing him in such a distressed state. It was easier to lie to myself than it was to admit the agony he was going through. Slowly, his neck started snapping backwards, his chest pushing up off the bed as he let out a low cry, and I wiped away a tear that had carelessly fallen from my wide eye. He gritted his teeth, more streams of tears now falling as I clambered onto the bed next to him, crouching at his side and stroking my hand down his cheek. “Harry.” I whispered, as weak as I remembered myself to be. “Harry, please wake up. Please.” He cried again, all his muscles tense and his whole body trembling as I tried to compose myself, just about to call out to him again, and then he screamed, loud and hostile, his throat emptying every iota of pain he was feeling. I placed my other hand on the other side of his face, my fingers searching through his hair and my heart shattering in my chest. “HARRY, WAKE UP!” I yelped. “I’M HERE! I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP AND LOOK AT ME, PLEASE!” His screams kept increasing, heightening in volume and proving his pain, his anguish. I pressed my forehead against his, closing my eyes and sobbing, holding his strands of hair even tighter, desperate to save him. Fuck, all I wanted was to save him. I forced out a few harsh breaths, grunting encouraging words to myself, telling myself that I could do this, that I could wake him up and help him return to a world where he felt safe and secure and away from the colour that haunted him every single night. One more deep breath in, and I screamed down to him one final time. “HARRY, WAKE UP! I AM HERE FOR YOU AND I CAN HELP YOU! WAKE THE FUCK UP.” A shock of electricity bounded through his body and forced his eyes to open, all the air crawling through his throat and inflating his chest as he woke, clearly still terrified as the nightmare he hated so deeply toyed with his reality and his worst fear. “Ren?” His hands lifted from the sheets, one finding my hair and tracing it, the other hand moving upwards, his fingers stroking over my jaw. “Look into my eyes.” I instructed, wheezing. “You’re awake. You’re here, with me.” “I’m still dreaming.” He gulped. “You’re not here.” “I am!” I cried, moving one of my hands to lay on his chest, feeling the unforgiving thud of his heart. “Look in my eyes. Please. Fuck, you need to… Fuck.” His eyes were wide, just gazing into my own, and it was slowly dawning on him that I was there with him, that I wasn’t just another twisted dream keeping him from his rousing. He looked amazed, like he couldn’t quite fathom that once more, I was there to comfort him through the ordeal, there to help and aid him through the pain and pull him back to a reality where he felt safe. He stroked his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyebrows shifting lower as he tried to make sense of the situation. “I can’t believe you’re really here.” He trembled. “There were… so many times I woke up searching for you… an-and you weren’t there.” “I’m here.” I told him, quaking as he wiped away some of the tears that were falling from my eyes. “I’m here now.” I still hadn’t lifted my forehead from his, quickly chancing a glance down to his parted lips, and then I returned my gaze to his eyes, because I knew how much they helped him, even if they were filled with tears. We remained quiet for some time. He stared at me, and I stared right back, keeping one hand on his chest so I could track each moment that he calmed, the other still playing with his soft curls. He played with my hair in return, grazing the back of his fingers of his other hand up and down my jaw, his body easing gradually. “Stay with me.” He hushed, his deep voice calling to my soul. “Let me hold you.” When I didn’t distance, he took that as yes, and gently moved his body to the other side of the bed so I could lay beside him. Once we were both on our sides, he grabbed at my waist and pulled my body so it pushed against his, leaving me gasping quietly and closing my eyes, my chest jolting thanks to our proximity. He held me as close as he physically could, his breathing steady once again, and when I finally plucked up the courage to open my eyes, he was still staring, still in awe. I placed my fingers on the side of his neck, stroking over the area until his eyes began to droop again. I watched him fall asleep, my stomach churning and my heart stammering the entire time, and then I fell asleep too, trapped in his arms and caught within a net of complicated emotions that I could barely comprehend.

We never know the love of a parent till we become parents ourselves and I can’t imagine my life without these little balls of energy AKA the ones who just don't sleep and then wake up super early - WHYYYYY!?

What I hope to be able to teach my family is you must believe in what you’re doing, that what you’re doing is the right thing - even if in life we fail as long as we learn from our mistakes and can evolve as people. As the saying goes "There is no such thing as a perfect parent. So just be a real one." I'm definitely not perfect - that's how the name came about 'Bryony - Perfectly Imperfect' when I made a WordPress blog 3 years ago, because to be Imperfect, to be flawed is to be human.

The importance of parents, carers, families and friends can be seen in the way they support our lives and families can come in many shapes and forms. They can also play the biggest role in our development - whether it’s in our mental, physical, social, financial, or career development, parents help us in every step of our life. Family might look different for everyone, but at its core, it's the group of people we surround ourselves with and love (even when it can be difficult, and oh boy can families be difficult!)

No family is the same, just like non of us are the same and we shouldn’t be expected to have the same life or the same way of dealing with things.

Commit to growing yourself. Growing yourself is important.

Commit to learning through hard lessons, even if some days it's hard to even leave the bed.

Trust yourself and in the universe that everything will work out in the end… Or, maybe just in a different way to how you hoped or expected... This I can definitely say with experience. With all that being said, it’s ok to grieve what you’ve lost, or expectations not succeeded in life. It’s ok that you’ve tried and failed. It’s ok to be sad. It’s ok to wish things had worked out differently. It’s ok to have regrets. It’s ok to not move on straight away.

That's my thought for today.

At the end of the day, talent, particularly in regards to acting, is completely subjective. What one person perceives as good acting is completely different to what another person perceives as good. Furthermore the performances were completely different and were brilliant but for different reasons. 

Charlotte did deserve the nomination because her scenes of comic relief were honestly brilliant. Comic relief is a technique that dates right back to Shakespearean writing and it’s something that is important when an episode gets quite heavy. (Just think Barbara and the Diaphragm in 6.8, comic relief was needed in a very intense episode). It’s also very difficult to convey effectively and Charlotte nails it every single time, she has natural comedic talent. Her more emotive scenes were also brilliant and you couldn’t fault her performance in the FGM episode.

Laura and Bryony, however, deserved a nomination but for very different reasons. Their performances were emotive and heart wrenching. Laura portrayed the fear of a first time pregnancy and threatened miscarriage perfectly. Shelagh was teetering along the fragile line of hope and Laura conveyed that perfectly. Bryony’s performance was also incredible, and arguably my favourite of the series. Portraying mental illness in a way that is convincing is so difficult, there’s a fine line between dramatising mental illness (which shouldn’t be done) and portraying the harsh reality of it. Bryony, was convincing and it was heart wrenching. 

The frustration isn’t because Charlotte didn’t deserve the nomination, because she did. It’s because other brilliant actresses, who gave a sublime performance were over looked again. Ideally the cast should get an ensemble nomination because it’s the culmination of everyone’s performances that make Call The Midwife such an amazing show. (But that probably won’t happen because CTM is continually overlooked at other award shows, such as the SAGs)

CtM Thursday Thoughts

Series 6 Finale Random Thoughts

OK, so today I thought I’d just post a few scattered thoughts about the series 6 finale and series 6 in general, although I’m planning on posting more general series 6 thoughts next week. This is going to be something of a stream-of-consciousness, and I want to stress that these are my opinions and everyone is free to agree or disagree. Here goes (more thoughts follow):

I’ve read a lot of comments about the final so I’m going to be addressing some of those thoughts as well. Generally, I liked the episode but I agree with those who think it was a little too busy, and I wish some of the stories could have gotten more time (especially the birth and the wedding) and that some would have waited until next series (Violet’s menopause especially). Anyway, here are just a few thoughts I had, and I think the first one may be controversial. 

Too Much Phyllis?--I love Phyllis. I really do. I think Linda Bassett has done an incredible job of playing her, and I’m amazed at how much she has risen in the estimation of most of the fans (including myself) since she first appeared in series 4. Still, for a lot of series 6 it felt like I was watching The Phyllis Crane Show. She seemed to get a LOT of focus stories, and while I always find her interesting, I find myself wishing other characters could get more focus.

Phyllis in 6x08--I do really like the character, though, and I loved that she got to be Barbara’s bridesmaid. I think she was the ideal choice there. Still, although I did sympathize somewhat with her disappointment in not being chosen as Shelagh’s midwife, that also struck me as somewhat unrealistic. Phyllis is a perceptive woman. Regardless of how much she knows or doesn’t know about Shelagh’s history, she would have to be completely blind not to notice the bond between Shelagh and Sister Julienne and to recognize that there was really only one choice for Shelagh. I did like, though, how Phyllis supported Shelagh after her meltdown at clinic, and that it seems that Phyllis and Shelagh have got past their awkwardness in series 4 and have a much better relationship now. I hope we get to see more of a friendship between them in future series.

Barbara’s Dad--I thought he was perfectly cast. It’s funny because I had a mental image of what her dad looked like and when I first saw the pic of the actor they cast, I was like “that’s him!” Great casting there, and even though he wasn’t on screen much I totally believed his and Barbara’s father-daughter relationship.

Cynthia--I’m a little surprised that so many fans seem to be expecting Cynthia to return, because I don’t, at least not as a regular character. I love her character and would be happy to be wrong, but I think she’s been mostly written out, as evidenced in 6x08 by the billing--Victoria Yeates has moved up in the billing and is now in the block with Helen George and Laura Main--a block that used to contain Bryony Hannah’s name. I’m wondering if we will see Cynthia periodically in the future, in occasional guest appearances, but I won’t be surprised if her time as a regular is over. That’s just the impression I got based on the story telling and the billing.

The Wedding--I liked seeing everyone pulling together to help Barbara and Tom, and the wedding was cute. I like these two as a couple although they’re not as interesting as other couples to me (especially the Turners).

Patsy and Delia--I’m glad they kissed and I thought that scene was done very well. I’m also glad, though, for Patsy’s absence to a degree. I think her being away was the best thing for Delia as a character, actually, since we finally got a chance to see her as a nurse and a character in her own right, and not just as half of a couple.  Kate Lamb has done a great job this series!

The Turners--I’m going to elaborate a LOT more, I’m sure, in my Tuesday posts during the hiatus, but I thought this was a wonderful series for them and I’m so glad Shelagh got a spotlight story. I loved the birth plot in this episode, and I loved the singing moment--it’s an instant classic Turnadette scene as far as I’m concerned. Also, (and I know I’ve written this many times) Laura Main deserves multiple awards because she’s an amazing actress! I did wish that the story hadn’t just dropped off after the birth, though, to focus on the wedding but that’s what happens when you have to cram so many stories into an episode, I guess. I’m glad we got a few brief scenes of the Happy Turner Family at the end.  And I want to know Baby T’s name! 

The Pill Story--I’m actually surprised that Wilma actually died. I was expecting this to be a scare, and a brush with death but not an actual death.  It may send a mixed message, but I do think it’s important to highlight the risks of the Pill as well as its benefits. I expect the Family Planning Clinic to be a recurring feature of the show in future series, so I’m guessing we’ll see a variety of Pill-related stories as the show goes on.  I did think this was done well, though, and I especially liked Trixie’s role in the story, which brings me to...

Trixie and Christopher (and Tom)--I like Christopher, and I think Trixie’s relationship with him is promising. I liked his daughter too and think the casting people did a great job because she looks a lot like him! I did find it slightly strange that we had to get another “closure” scene for Trixie and Tom before the wedding, as if the show wants to keep telling us “yes, this is *really* over” when it’s been over for a long time now. I don’t think Trixie and Tom were well-suited as a couple and both of them are much better off with their current partners, although there was some nice chemistry in series 3. Still, Tom is married now so we don’t need Trixie giving him her blessing for every stage of his relationship now, nor Tom giving Trixie his blessing for hers. I am glad that they can actually work together and be friends, though, like the adults they are.

Transition--I’m going to elaborate more on this next week, I think, but I really think series 6 was a transition series for this show. There were a lot of actors taking leaves of absence and a major new character added, and several characters got major transitional story arcs. There’s also much more emphasis on the Maurizio Malagnini music and de-emphasis of the Peter Salem music (beyond the somewhat bizarre reappearance of “In the Mirror” in 6x07), While the series finale could have worked as a show finale, I think Heidi had plans for more and she was setting it up so that the characters could move into a new chapter in their lives for the next few series, echoing the winds of change that were starting to seriously stir up as the story moves more into the 1960s. The shadows of the earlier series, and especially the first three that were set in the 1950s, are being put to rest and it’s time for the story and the characters to move on. If only they could just officially write Chummy out now, though, since it really looks like Miranda Hart isn’t coming back. 

OK, that’s all for now. Tune in next week for more Thursday Thoughts!

REVIEW:

Lord of Vice by Erica Ridley

Rogues to Riches #6

 Bryony Grenville is the last of her siblings still at home and her matchmaking mama has plans to have her married by the end of the season whether or not Bryony wants to be saddled with a husband. So, with that in mind clothing, hair, behavior and dancing all dances at every event are a must. However, Bryony’s interests lie more along the line of investing money than taking on a spouse – a man who would take over her investments and money and holdings and try to mold her into the woman of his dreams rather than seeing her as she is and liking her just as she is.

 Maxwell Gideon is not on the list of any of the ton’s matchmaking mama’s but he is on the list of people Bryony has invested in. With that in mind and a potential change in the investment-wind she sneaks out to his establishment, The Cloven Hoof, to see what she can find out that she might need to know before deciding the future of that particular investment. Well, of course she is caught and thus begins a friendship of sorts that crosses the male-female divide as well as the have/have not divide.

 This is a delightful story of two people that in that time period would not be allowed to find a happily ever after together though they are well suited to one another in more than one way. Both have mathematical investment minds. Both are quick witted. Both see the value in people no matter what their monetary worth or social ranking. Both see family as important – perhaps more important than anything. And, both are truly good people though seeing a way for them to be together is more than a bit difficult to figure out.

 I loved this story for many reasons and fear this could be the end of the series and that would be sad. I still would like to find out who Lord Lambley will end up with and perhaps whether or not Max’s sister will find true love. But you know what? I am sure that this author will provide me with a wonderful story with whatever she writes because so far every book I have read written by her has left me more than satisfied. I am taken into the lives of people that I would love to meet and have as friends…if only they really existed!

 Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 4-5 Stars

   BLURB

Appearances can be deceiving… Vice merchant Maxwell Gideon is wickedly handsome, sinfully arrogant, and devilishly ruthless. Rumor has it, his gaming hell has the power to steal souls and grant miracles. Truth is, Max only owns half of The Cloven Hoof. He’d buy out his silent partner if he knew the man’s identity. But it’s hard to focus on business matters when a fallen angel tumbles right into one’s lap… Miss Bryony Grenville has a well-earned reputation as an unrepentant hoyden. But even the gossipiest of the pinch-faced matrons ruling High Society could never imagine the daughter of a baronet secretly financing the ton’s most infamous gambling parlor. Its maddening, sexy proprietor doesn’t suspect a thing… and two can play at temptation! In the Rogues to Riches historical romance series by USA Today and New York Times bestselling author Erica Ridley, Cinderella stories aren’t just for princesses… Sigh-worthy Regency rogues sweep strong-willed young ladies into whirlwind romance with rollicking adventure.

Lord of Chance   Lord of Pleasure   Lord of Night   Lord of Temptation   Lord of Secrets   Lord of Vice  

EXCERPT:

Although this was only her first kiss, Bryony realized in a heartbeat that Max’s “ice king” demeanor and melting kisses had ruined her for all other men.

His body was hard, his muscles stiff, as if fighting an uncontrollable urge to plunder far more than her mouth. His lips were firm, possessive. Demanding, freely taking what the rest of him would not.

He did not seek her submission, but her very soul. Coaxed her innermost desires to the surface with every brush of his lips, every stroke of his thumb against the side of her cheek. He treated her not as if she were an unwanted interloper, but as if she were a treasure more precious than silver. Softer than rose petals. More addictive than opium.

Heaven knew she felt the same.

Her heart pounded faster than ever. She’d been lost from the first, was losing further ground by the moment. She clutched him like a life raft rescuing her from a sea of doubt and denial. In his arms lay both safety and seduction.

In the back of her mind, the whirlpool of reality threatened to pluck her out of his embrace and pull her down into the depths of despair where moments like these were forbidden and wrong.

If she were honest, she had believed giving into her desires would prove their incompatibility. That he was not for her. That together they were nothing.

Instead, everything about him was horribly, perfectly, right.

She ran her hands over his chest and secretly thrilled that he permitted her to do so. As if his body was no longer his to defend, but hers to explore. To enjoy.

His ardent kisses made it all but impossible to think. She did not mind. This was not a time for thinking.

The palms of her hands told her the width of his shoulders, the coiled strength in his arms, the softness of his black hair where it curled over the edge of his starched cravat.

He was like her, she realized. He had not cut his hair to a more fashionable length, nor had he shaved his jaw to appear more respectable. He was none of those things.

He was wild and untamed and devastatingly handsome. The starch in his cravat was not for Society, but for her.

Author Bio

 Erica Ridley is a USA Today and New York Times best-selling author of historical romance novels.

In the new Rogues to Riches historical romance series, Cinderella stories aren’t just for princesses… Sigh-worthy Regency rogues sweep strong-willed young ladies into whirlwind rags-to-riches romance with rollicking adventure.

The popular Dukes of War series features roguish peers and dashing war heroes who return from battle only to be thrust into the splendor and madness of Regency England.

When not reading or writing romances, Erica can be found riding camels in Africa, zip-lining through rainforests in Costa Rica, or getting hopelessly lost in the middle of Budapest.

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We welcome Iridessa Lyte to the city. She’s 24 years old and is a firefighter. Dessa is often mistaken for Herizen Guardiola. She’s taken.

→ Background Information

Iridessa was extremely ill when she was born. She was born prematurely which meant she spent the first month of her life in hospital. This didn’t stop her from living exactly how she wanted to. While her parents always warned her to be safe and school teachers kept a close eye on her too, Dessa really let loose when she was with her older brothers. The youngest of four meant she always had someone to play with. Thankfully, her brothers never saw her for her difficult start. They just saw her as their little sister. This stayed the same as she grew also. While they pushed her around and teased her, no one else could even look in her direction without them clearing it.

→ Living Situation

Dessa knew that she would not be able to afford a place entirely by herself when she moved. The idea of living completely alone wasn’t all that appealing to her either. This was how she ended up moving in with Fawn Hawk. The shared space in the house is a bizarre amalgamation of their property and tastes. Iridessa keeps all of her really personal things, like pictures and heirlooms from family, in her room. It’s a very bright room. Every wall is painted in yellow. It’s a color that brings happiness. That’s what she wants from her space - Somewhere she can come, relax, and be happy.

→ Relocation Explanation

Firefighter training began immediately for Iridessa after finishing college. She did a short degree in human nutrition after finishing high school. Iridessa was actually the first in her close family to go to college at all. After graduating from firefighter school, she knew that she didn’t do all that studying just to stay in her hometown. She came across Libertas while looking for ideas of places to move. It was far away from home but they were building an entirely fresh firefighters team. The idea of a brand new place with no corrupt system or bigoted leaders had her sold on the idea immediately.

→ Her Personality

A lot of people question how someone like Iridessa is a firefighter. This hurts her feelings slightly, sure. But she can understand where they’re coming from. In her personal life, she’s incredibly worrisome, and constantly concerned about her friends’ health. She’s detail-focused and doesn’t let anything slide. When she’s in work-mode though, she is only in work mode. Every single personal feeling and thought is put aside. Dessa’s one and only focus is saving the lives of whoever she is there to save. Her tenacity and sheer determination make her an incredibly fighter. There is no problem that she is ever afraid of facing.

→ Her Qualities

Focused, determined, resourceful

Worrisome, neurotic, pedantic

→ Her Relationships

Fawn Hawk (Roommate & best friend): When agreeing to share an apartment with a stranger, Iridessa couldn’t have gotten luckier. Within hours of them being in the apartment together, Fawn insisted that they have wine and watch movies that evening. Iridessa knew they’d get along from that moment. The girls fit perfectly together. They’re both averagely tidy people so there’s no arguments there. Dessa enjoys eating clean and healthily anyway, so doesn’t mind when Fawn asks if they can have a vegan meal. It all works out perfectly - Most of the time.

Rosetta Linden & Sol Eun-ha (Friends): Iridessa met Rosetta while in the queue for the toilet on a night out. The girl’s ended up getting along really well. They walked back to the bar together. This is where Dessa found her roommate Fawn talking to Han. The group have been the best of friends since. They go to each other for everything. The group chat is always popping, especially when they spend time apart. Iridessa can’t imagine where she’d be without this incredibly important network.

→ Possible Connections

Bryoni Tinker (Acquaintance): Dessa met Bry when she took in an old piece of her father’s. Obviously Iridessa opened up immediately about the importance of the piece. Bry was intrigued. They hit it off immediately.

Diego Gracilis (Acquaintance): Diego and Iridessa cross paths through work. A lot of the police force are incredibly egotistical. Diego is actually the only one Dessa can tolerate. If she has to contact the police, she’ll do everything in her power to make sure he’s the one she deals with.

Astrid Hofferson (Acquaintance): Iridessa is actually incredibly intimidated by Astrid. She also has a lot of respect for her however. They cross paths often as Astrid works in the Valley surrounding Libertas and Dessa is often sent to deal with any forest fires.

Dessa is based on Iridessa the light fairy from the Tinker Bell franchise.

Thark

I’m a great fan of the 1920s. Ok, I’m not old enough to remember them but thanks to books like the Jeeves and Wooster series, I do feel that I know the era pretty well. I’m also a fan of farce as a theatrical genre and a combination of both seemed too good to miss. So off I toottled to the Drayton Arms to see a performance of Ben Travers’ quintessentially English farce Thark.

At the home of Sir Hector Benbow (Mathijs Swarte) his butler Hook (Daniel Casper) has just received some news. He has become a father – admittedly of a girl but he can cope with that. As he tries to head off to go and see his wife and child, he gives instructions to Warner (Sophia Lorenti) the maid as to what to do when a female visitor arrives. Sir Hector is out at the races with his nephew Ronny (Robin Blell) while his wife Lady Benbow (Charlotte Vassell) is away, so it is up to the servants to ensure that Sir Hector’s guest gets the right message and meets him for a liaison later that event. Unfortunately, nobody knows the girl’s name – Cherry Buck (Isabella Hayward) – and so the message is passed not only to Cherry but also to Mrs Frush (Ellie Gill) who, along with her son Lionel (Alexander Hopwood) are trying to get hold of Sir Hector and complain about the house he has recently sold them. The house – Thark by name – was formerly the property of Sir Hector’s ward, and Ronny’s girlfriend, Kitty (Natalla Lewis), and is, much to Mrs Frush’s horror haunted. Sir Hector and his entourage decide to set off to Thark to debunk the whole ghost nonsense and secure the sale.

Can Mrs Frush be placated? Will Sir Hector manage to get his liaison dangereuse without his wife finding out? Will Ronny and Kitty’s romance be able to survive the traumers they are about to face? Just how dodgy is Mrs Jones, the Housekeeper at Thark and who is the mysterious Mr Whittle (Kieran Slade) hanging round the property. Finally, will Hook get to see his baby daughter before the ghostly shenanigans really get into their stride?

A good farce requires various elements, the most important of which are doors. People need to come in and go out in rapid succession, preferably through different doors, and Granville Saxton’s set does that very well. Not only does it have lots of doors, which slam effectively, but the furniture is very in keeping with the period and the changeover in act II from dining room to bedroom is brilliantly done with both rooms looking really good. Matching the set are the really splendid costumes by Bryony J Thompson. They all looked very period appropriate with the ladies, particularly Isabella Hayward’s dinner dress, looking particularly stunning.

The story itself is a pretty standard farce with messages going to the wrong people and being misinterpreted, very stupid men believing they can get away with anything, and general mayhem. It is very much of the period. Women are not really respected that much – though they are definitely feared – and that attitude is perfectly summed up by Hook’s reaction to the news he has a new daughter. But, overall, it still works. You can’t sit there and compare the actions of these people with what is acceptable today, but if you put yourself back in the time of the flapper and the playboy, it makes sense.

Director Matthew Parker has assembled a very strong cast with a couple of real stand-out performers. Robin Blell was one. An actor with perfect comic timing and a wonderfully expressive face and body that transmits so much across the footlights, Robin was brilliant as young Ronny. Equally I really liked Isabella Hayward’s Cherry Buck. Yes, the character is a rather a stereotypical good time girl that pretends she is all virtuous but Isabella makes her more a real three dimensional person able to hold her own with any of her, so called, social betters.

Overall, Thark was thoroughly enjoyable. My one criticism was the ending, which seemed to just turn up, taking some of the audience by surprise. However any show that includes a Beyoncé dance break, certainly has something going for it. The pace is fast and the highly talented cast do a wonderful job of keeping everything moving smoothly. There are some really deft touches in the action that keep the audience on their toes – keep an eye on the whisky glasses and soda syphon in Act I – and ensures the attention never flags. All in all, if you fancy a break from worrying about Christmas, treat yourself and the family to a trip to Thark and sit back, relax and enjoy a fun and highly entertaining evening out.

Review by terry Eastham

“Ghosts – bunkum! Have you ever met anyone who’s seen a ghost?” “No; but I’ve never met anyone who hasn’t met someone who has…” London, 1927. The rebellious twenties are roaring right outside Sir Hector Benbow’s Mayfair window. All he wants to do is to take Cherry, a ‘good looker’, out for a spot of dinner. His saucy liaison is scuppered when Lady Benbow and his ward Kitty arrive home unexpectedly. What’s more, there are reports that Thark – the family home – is haunted! Hector, his plucky nephew Ronny, and the rest of the family set out to investigate. Will Thark live up to its spine-chilling reputation?

Fast-paced, fruity and full of flappers, Ben Travers’ Thark is a hilarious classic British farce combining sparkling witticisms and bold physical comedy with glamour, naughty romps and a hint of gothic spookery!

This sparkling new production is directed by Off West End Award winning director Matthew Parker.

Cast: Robin Blell, Daniel Caspar, Ellie Gill, Alexander Hopwood, Natalia Lewis, Sophia Lorenti, Kieran Slade, Mathijs Swarte, Charlotte Vassell and Isabella Hayward.

Directed by: Matthew Parker

Thark Booking to 6th January 2018 Draytron Arms Theatre http://ift.tt/2Bmd8ey

http://ift.tt/2z3PQ7c London Theatre 1

Photography- Evaluation

Personally when reading the project brief I was excited as it looked promising to keep me busy experimenting and producing various styles of photography. In terms of my actual interpretation of the brief I at first thought very literal and was thinking on an actual self portrait of someone but after a couple lessons I decided to be ambiguous and do a self-portrait on someone who isnt exactly human but rather metaphorical yet more important than humans as my person mother nature is responsible for the well-being of the world and keeping us as a race alive. I thought she would be an interesting subject and different from the likes of the rest of my classes self-portraits. In terms of what I was looking most forward to it was defiantly the day of experimentation with the cameras as Ive never got to us a professional camera before. A rule I found hard to take into consideration was that my portrayal should have been of a person although I think Mother Nature can be seen as a person just like god, however thats my interpretation and other peoples interpretations differ so I had to make sure my images would be convincing so that I could overcome this restriction.

When looking at this project I researched many photographers but the ones that stood out to me more and can relate to aspects of my project were Hanna Lenzs project on this elder Else and how she had only herself in the world with virtually no one to care for her as well as Bryony Campbells Dad project and how she cared for her dying father. In doing this project I also found out about the idea of documenting someones life through the use of visually archiving them which helped develop my contact sheet work. Through doing all this I have learnt how photography is a effective method of documentation of someone or something as well as a great aesthetic entertainment and art.

This project has come with much development to perfect it and I have gone through many steps of playing and experimenting to learn how to photograph and develop my ideas as well as my photos. A significant exercise to me in which perfectly done this was my first lesion with Othello when he taught my class camera controls and how to experiment and play with the cameras I thought this was not only fun but also very intellectual. A reoccurring problem that I constantly had was that my pictures either werent dark enough or bright enough however I found out this could easily be resolved by methods on Photoshop in which could alter my images. Ive had a fair bit of feedback now on my photography work but the one the sticks out to myself most was my chat with Ana after my first initial shoot of my images, she saw my pictures portraying mother nature as too literal and a representation that had already been done as a result of this she told me to go away and re-shoot and think my images.

In my photographic journey ive had to use a few resources to help me, these being mainly sites on google and Wikipedia to research about artists as well as the artists own pages, I also went to Hassan hajjajs exhibition at sommer set house during reading week to also learn about the art of photography. Throughout the project in terms of technical photographic methods I have used depth of fields a lot as there effects have greatly benefited my photos and also high as to make some of my images super precise. During this project I have learnt loads of new skills such as methods on Photoshop to enhance my images and all the camera basic techniques in which I was unaware of prior to this project. 

In terms of how strong my work is I feel my ideas are very unique to me and I think that makes my work stronger as it has grater meaning to it and has it good research base to be backed off. However in terms of organisation I dont think I have done a brilliant job as I was almost overwhelmed with the work of a whole project I had to do within two weeks and was also behind blogging so I have had to hugely improvise whilst tying to complete a large amount of work. Personally I have found the self-directed study days super useful this time round as I have got a lot done during those days. Overall this project was fairly fun despite the huge amount of work and am glad with my works.

Great gift idea for a childs birthday - a vagina shaped piñata for them to destroy because historical accuracy is important.

Bryony perfectly imperfect mama