#it's clear that he hides his inner struggles and vulnerabilities and only shares them with Padme

[the-far-bright-center]

Hating on TCW because of certain OOC Anidala scenes? Yes, exactly 💯💯💯💯 👍👍

Hating on TCW because Anakin is 'too suave'? Eh, while I can see where people are coming from, Anakin's characterisation isn't limited to AotC, and his 'suave' qualities are already extant in the original Prequels-era material, such as in TPM's Litle Ani and in descriptions of Anakin in RotS novelization (for more on this, see here and here).

Hating on TCW because of a misperception that the existence of Ahsoka is detrimental to Padme's character? WHAAAAAT. NO, STOP, what even are you doing???? ⛔️⛔️⛔️⛔️✋✋✋✋ ⁉️❗️‼️Anakin and Padme love Ahsoka, she's the only child they got to raise together!

[caffeinatedseri]

Shin Soukoku in 55 Minutes

(particularly how they view Dazai and their dynamic)

This post will mainly cover the ending of the light novel 55 Minutes, please read it if you have the opportunity to!

Shin Soukoku’s Perspective on Dazai

Unsurprisingly, Akutagawa and Atsushi clash when they first meet, but the mention of Dazai in danger is enough to spark Akutagawa’s interest. Atsushi establishes that he most definitely wants to save Dazai.

Atsushi and Akutagawa disagree here because they both see Dazai in fundamentally different ways. 

Atsushi tries to imagine what Dazai would think of this situation, but Akutagawa argues that it’s impossible to understand Dazai as a person. Atsushi tends to view Dazai as more human than everyone else believes, which is why he also tries to understand Dazai on a deeper level. Atsushi also classifies Dazai as a “good person” in his mind, which further pushes the need for Atsushi to save him. If Atsushi didn’t save a “good person,” then he could never forgive himself. However, Akutagawa keeps Dazai at a distance. Rather than try to understand him, Akutagawa places Dazai on a pedestal of sorts as his mentor. It’s interesting to see Akutagawa mention his own “reasons” for wanting Dazai to live, because he doesn’t necessarily care about Dazai the same way that Atsushi does.

Akutagawa and Atsushi both share Dazai as a mentor figure in the PM and ADA respectively, which considerably affects how they view him.

Akutagawa points out that Atsushi doesn’t understand Dazai, because Atsushi has never seen the “dark era” side of Dazai that Akutagawa experienced. Although that’s the past Dazai, it doesn’t change the fact that the PM undoubtedly shaped some part of his character. Atsushi fails to recognize the “evil” parts of Dazai by always painting him in a good light, which is why Akutagawa points out Atsushi’s lack of understanding. Akutagawa also mentions that Atsushi’s “not qualified,” suggesting that he sees Dazai on a higher level than him.

Given that this excerpt takes place after Atsushi and Akutagawa’s exchange, this is where Atsushi starts to see the flaws in how he views Dazai. 

Previously, he saw Dazai as “perfect,” as a result of how Dazai helped him find a home when he needed it the most and guided him to become stronger and help protect others. This description fits well with the “protagonist” stereotype, thus explaining why Atsushi sees Dazai as a “good person.” However, this belief is subverted by the obvious flaws in Dazai’s character. 

After Atsushi asks Dazai why he wants to kill himself, Atsushi reaches the conclusion that he will never come to understand Dazai, similar to Akutagawa. However, this fact never stops Atsushi from trying to understand Dazai because he sees Dazai as a person more than Akutagawa does. 

Throughout the series, Atsushi’s ability to be compassionate is a core part of his strengths. With the case of Kyouka and Lucy, he used his past experiences to empathize with them and gain their trust. 

However, in this scene particularly, Atsushi reaches an understanding with Gab through his experience with Dazai. Gab’s feeling of loneliness, despite being around a lot of people, sounds a lot like Dazai. Atsushi goes as far to point out how that feeling of loneliness is a human emotion, even though Gab isn’t human.

Atsushi is emotionally intelligent. Even though Dazai puts up a barrier to prevent people from getting close to him, Atsushi still recognizes part of Dazai’s inner struggle.

Dazai subtly hints at his past, concerning Oda and Mimic, while talking to Atsushi and shows a bit of vulnerability as he reminiscences about Oda. 

I point this out because Dazai is extremely good at hiding his emotions, which  means that he intentionally showed Atsushi a little bit of himself, by expressing an emotion that differs from his fake smile: melancholy. Because Dazai trusts Atsushi, he’s willing to let down that barrier and express his true self.

Shin Soukoku’s Rivalry 

Atsushi and Akutagawa are clear foils in many ways that serve to challenge their beliefs. Their principles in life are especially prominent throughout their fight with Gab.

Atsushi continuously hangs on to the fact that he’s fighting for the “good side,” which leads him to characterizing certain people as “evil,” despite the fact that good and evil are not binary opposites in reality.

Although Atsushi is emotionally intelligent, and is fully capable of using empathy to resolve conflicts, he fails in this scenario because he doesn’t understand Gab as a person. When Atsushi sees a person as someone who’s endangering his allies or as an obstacle in his mission, he dismisses the idea that they could be people with greater complexities.

Atsushi recognizes Gab as a lonely person, but he doesn’t use this point in his approach because he doesn’t understand Gab’s emotions that push him to act in the way he does.

(this is not to say that Gab was in the right for reliving the same moments everyday in a time loop, but rather Atsushi’s approach was flawed)

Akutagawa presents the idea that only the strongest will survive, while also disregarding the idea that people survive because they have a reason to live. Considering that Akutagawa grew up in the PM, his values align completely with the environment he’s been placed in, and these values have ultimately served him well in his climbing of the hierarchical ladder.

This principle of “survival of the fittest” essentially prioritizes the strong by tossing aside the weak, which counters Atsushi’s principle. 

Atsushi is a person who survives because his reason to live is to protect the weak. Akutagawa is a person who survives because he is powerful by stepping on the weak.

Although these simple statements present their philosophies as opposites, they also point out the inherent flaws in both Atsushi and Akutagawa’s thinking.

Atsushi can’t protect the weak if he himself is weak, which is what drives him to push onwards and grow stronger, yet he criticizes Akutagawa’s search for strength. Atsushi also doesn’t have the jurisdiction to decide who’s defined as “strong” and defined as “weak”. If Akutagawa was a weak person in search for strength, would Atsushi protect him?

Akutagawa can’t find fulfillment in life if he lacks a purpose. If he only seeks strength and in turn disregards interpersonal relationships, he follows a path of misery and desolation. Ultimately his only reason for existing is to survive, which places him in this endless loop of surviving through suffering, yet pushing on for the sake of surviving regardless.

Atsushi tends to characterize Akutagawa as a villain in the same way he does with Gab, which leads him neglecting important moments like these that reveal that Akutagawa is his own person with human emotions.

Akutagawa knows Atsushi sees him as “evil,” which is exactly why he uses that to motivate Atsushi to fight. By playing the role of a villain, Akutagawa activates Atsushi’s “reason for living” survival instinct. Atsushi wants to protect the weak, which indirectly means he has to fight his enemies that threaten the weak. Akutagawa creates an enemy for Atsushi’s passions to be directed towards, thus his motivation to fight is fueled.

However, the last paragraph reveals that Akutagawa isn’t the heartless killer Atsushi makes him out to be. Akutagawa shares the same feelings of guilt and remorse that everyone does, but he’s forced into a situation where he has to face those feelings in order to survive. 

Atsushi is revitalized with the activation of his ability and his will to push forward, which prompts Akutagawa’s response that suggests they fight together, as Shin Soukoku.

To wrap it up, here’s my favorite excerpt from the novel:

[miniature-space-hamster]

Wrote a fic that was a byproduct of me trying to figure out how Kaidan and Karina Shepard had their first kiss. It got a little spicier than I originally intended. This takes place before the rest of my “Soft Place to Land” fics. Anyway, hope you enjoy.~

Shepard cursed to herself as her eyes darted from screen to screen on her omnitool, trying to find a solution. Nothing seemed to be physically wrong with Mako, but the vehicle had lost all communications. Even the sensors were failing her, and she was beginning to lose her patience. Kaidan laid outside the Mako, almost entirely under the vehicle, trying to look for any possible damage underneath. He’d never say it out loud, but with the way Shepard drove this thing, he was half expecting to find a large rock lodged in the vehicle, but there was nothing. He grumbled to himself before pulling himself up, and leaning against the Mako as he poked his head through the doorway, towards Shepard. “It’s all fine down here. I don’t know what happened.” He paused for a moment, kicking the dirt slightly as he watched the growing winds whisk away the dust cloud that formed at his feet. “Wish Tali was here. She’d probably know what to do.”

Shepard looked up at the ceiling of the Mako to stretch her aching neck, they’ve been at this for nearly an hour with no luck. “Same, but we couldn’t risk it with the suit rupture.” It was just a pin prick moments before departure, but Shepard sent her to the medbay immediately before she got a severe infection. Shepard considered asking another teammate to come, but it was such a minor task and she didn’t want to postpone scanning the planet for necessary resources any further. She knew the two of them would be fine. They were supposed to be fine. But now she definitely missed the Quarian’s expertise.

Shepard smacked the dashboard of the Mako in equal parts irritation and last ditch effort to try anything. Kaidan jumped slightly at the sudden sound. Shepard was always quiet, sometimes almost unnervingly so at times that he half expected the motion to not make a noise. But, to both of their surprise, the dashboard came to life, bathing her in its golden glow.

“Are you reading me, commander?” Joker's voice was nearly inaudible against the overwhelming amount of interference. It sounded like he's been trying to contact them for a while now. From what she could make out, his voice sounded strained with desperation. He needed a sign that they were okay.

“Barely, we’re having some trouble with the Mako.” Shepard grumbled into the microphone, trying to use her omnitool to sharpen the signal, but it didn’t help much.

“There’s a storm coming. A bad one. We won’t be able to pick you up in the middle of it. You’ll need to sit tight until it’s over.” The irritation was evident in Joker’s voice. If they had a window for rescue, it seemed that it had long since passed.

Shepard gave Kaidan a look, seeing the wind whipping the stray hairs that fell down to his brow. She tried to hide the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was near pitch black darkness on the horizon that blocked out the setting sun, and it was approaching at an alarming speed. Kaidan gave her a nod in understanding, they needed to move quickly. “There’s a cave not far from here. We can park the Mako there for shelter. “

Shepard nodded as Kaidan hopped into the passenger seat without hesitation, providing directions. She could feel the wind trying to rip control of the Mako from her grip. She found herself constantly having to overcorrect the wheel just to keep the vehicle moving straight. She kept her fingers off the boosters, for fear of flipping the vehicle. Her knuckles were white and her hands were shaking by the time they were in the cave.

The vehicle lurched in protest as she hit the brakes a bit too hard, too eager to take her hands off the wheel. Shepard craned her neck to get a look at the cave’s ceiling, wondering how much she trusted it’s stability. It felt weirdly claustrophobic having such a big machine nestled in a cavern this size. It was a tight squeeze. They'd have difficulty getting out on either side, but they were free from the wind and what sounded like hail.

Shepard looked to Kaidan with a somewhat sheepish grin, feeling somewhat responsible for their predicament. She found herself mentally going back through the calculations and reports in her mind, trying to find out where she went wrong. This wasn’t in her reports of the planet.

“Well, I guess we better get comfortable.” There was a sigh in her voice as she took off her helmet and untied her hair. She let her hair fall naturally with a slight shake of her head.

She met Kaidan’s eyes and she couldn’t tell over the darkness of the cave, but she could’ve sworn she saw him blush. He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment before pulling up a box that rested by his feet onto his lap.

Shepard saw the shine of the dashboard against his teeth as he gave her a slight smile before reaching in and handing her something. She took the item, unsure of what was in her hands for a moment, before realizing it was a sandwich. “I, uh, noticed you didn’t get a chance to eat before we left..” he seemed unusually bashful as he placed a hand on his neck.

She looked at the sandwich, and again at Kaidan. She tried to figure out when he had the time to do all this. She completely forgot to eat today. She didn’t have the time to have more than a cup of instant coffee, and even then it went cold before she took her first sip. It felt like the work Hackett sent her was never ending.

She gave Kaidan a nervous smile as a silent thanks, finding herself at a loss of words as heat rose on her ears and neck. Kaidan continued to pull out two beer bottles before untwisting a top and passing one to her. “Before you say anything, technically our shift ended an hour ago.” He gave her a sly grin that she couldn’t help but match as she took a bottle.

“Well, we might be stuck here for the night...” Her voice was wary as she pressed the cold glass bottle to her lips. She was never one to lax on regulations, but after today she needed a drink. Despite nothing going right today, she couldn’t help but be thankful for the choice in company.

She took a bite of her sandwich, unable to remember the last time she had something that wasn’t prepackaged and in the form of an energy bar. With her hunger finally catching up to her, in this moment it was the best thing she’d ever eaten. She looked at Kaidan, seeing the golden light of the dashboard reflect the warm, bronze flecks in his eyes. “Thank you…” She looked away quickly afraid she’d get lost in the depths of his eyes.

Kaidan held back a smile, as he pulled out a sandwich for himself. He noticed how her features softened as she ate. She finally stopped clenching her jaw as she took a moment to accept their new situation. This was about as relaxed as he’s ever seen her, on or off duty. He felt like these were the moments when he got to see the real Shepard. She was so sure of herself on the battlefield, but in moments like this she let herself be vulnerable. It was a word he never would’ve normally associated with the great Commander Shepard before getting to know her.

Shepard expected to feel a nervous tension rising in her chest. It’s only been two days since they both admitted to maybe feeling something for one another, though neither were quite sure what it was yet. Kaidan suggested seeing where things would go if they went out during shore leave. Despite these mutual feelings, she still found Kaidan easy to be around. Shepard struggled to open up and connect with others at times, being as painfully introverted as she was, but Kaidan never forced herself to be someone she wasn’t. He was content to be near her, even if she didn’t have anything to say at the moment. She never felt pressured by his presence to put on her usual facade of commander.

After finishing her sandwich, her hunger sated. She felt her mind shift to other needs. Shepard shivered violently, feeling the storm’s chill enter her bones. The nights on this planet often dipped below freezing. She heard the rattle of her armor, feeling another violent wave fill her body. She noticed Kaidan was rubbing his hands together for warmth. “Cold?” She asked, already knowing the answer. She paused for a moment as she climbed into the back of the Mako. There was an emergency blanket, but only one. She held it up for him to see. It felt thin, but it was better than nothing. “We’ll have to share.”

Kaidan quietly followed her to the backseat, trying to hold back his grin. There was more leg room here, without any bulky tech to get in the way. They both stripped themselves of their outer armor, letting their chest plates and gauntlets litter the floor, leaving on the more comfortable inner layer.

Kaidan was the first to sit, finally feeling the strain of the day cause his muscles to ache. He stretched his legs as he slouched to get comfortable. He rested an arm on the back of the seat, inviting Shepard to sit next to him. She first took a cautious seat before curling up beside him, realizing that they’ve never touched like this before. Was he always this warm?

Besides the time she pulled him away from the beacon, she’s never touched him at all. But even in that moment she only thought about his safety, not how it felt to be curled up next to him. She found that her desire for warmth overcame her sense of modesty as Kaidan wrapped them both in the blanket.

She twisted herself closer as she felt her body shiver violently. She rested her legs on top of his as Kaidan wrapped his arms around her. His warmth quickly filled her body as she leaned in his direction, pressing their bodies flush. She tried to tell herself that this was solely for warmth, and it was, but she so desperately wanted to explore his body with her hands.

She tried to speak, about anything to pull her thoughts away from the body pressed against her own, but any and all words were trapped in her throat as a flush rose on her face. She tried to wash down the heat in her face with what remained on the beer. Kaidan was usually the one to speak, and Shepard would listen, but he too was silent in this moment as he watched her trying to gauge her reaction to their close contact.

Shepard met his eyes, nearly black in the darkness, but still warm nonetheless. Her eyes trailed down to his lips, wanting desperately to know what they felt like, before her eyes yet again met his. She didn't want to yearn for him like this, reminding herself that he was her staff lieutenant. Her pulse quickened as she reached for his face, nervous she was taking things too far. Her hand softly grazed his stubble and rested at his jaw. In the near pitch dark she caught herself focusing on the softness of his skin.

Kaidan’s eyes widened, but so did his smile. He let a hand gently trail up her neck, resting at the base of her skull. He applied the slightest gentle pressure as he stroked her scalp, without pulling her in, as he invited her to come closer if she wanted. He was fully prepared for rejection, they were after all in an emergency situation.

Before Kaidan even realized it, her lips locked with his own. There was a moment of tender uncertainty as they tried to find one another’s rhythm. They settled for a slow pace, as they gently explored the expanse of one another’s lips. Shepard liked the way Kaidan’s lips felt on her own, tasting the beer on his breath. He felt almost electric as she gently bit down on his lower lip. The smell of element zero filled her lungs and made her head feel fuzzy. It was unfamiliar to her, but pleasant nonetheless.

Shepard let her free hand dance on Kaidan’s torso, before resting behind a shoulder blade, trying to pull him in closer than their bodies allowed, as their kiss deepened as Kaidan’s tongue momentarily slipped into her mouth. Kaidan propped up his legs to pull Shepard closer. She readjusted herself so she could straddle his lap without breaking the kiss. He let his tongue explore her lips, memorizing their shape, while his hands gripped her waist. His tongue traced the scar that marked both lips and trailed upward.

Shepard pulled away to catch her breath, not realizing how long she was holding it. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder as she bit her lip, holding back a smile. Kaidan in turn let his head drop back against the seat as he also tried to steady himself, with Shepard still straddling his lap.

Shepard cursed to herself, quietly but against Kaidan’s ear. He turned to her direction, “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

Shepard held back a laugh, “No, that’s not it…” She paused as she groaned again in frustration. “I shouldn’t want this.” She poked his chest gingerly. “Ishouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I sh-“ her voice trailed off as she again tapped her forehead against Kaidan’s shoulder in frustration.

Kaidan took a deep breath, “You aren’t taking advantage of me if I also want this, Shepard.” She met his gaze as he ran a finger across her forehead, tucking a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear.

They looked at one another for a long while before Shepard finally spoke up, “Karina.”

Kaidan gave her a raised eyebrow.

“Call me Karina.” She felt her pulse in her throat. He just kissed her senseless, why did this somehow feel more intimate? “Any fraternization rules are pretty much out the window now. At least when we’re alone.”

Karina could hear the smile in his tone. “Then you should call me Kaidan.”

“Alright, fair enough Kaidan.” She laughed, feeling another wave of blush rise in her face, but she didn’t make an effort to hide it this time.

Kaidan felt his stomach flip. Something about the way her accent made the syllables roll so softly from her tongue. He really liked hearing his name in her voice and couldn’t wait to hear it again.

Hope you liked it.

[witched-the-watcher]

Geralt and Yennefer are living their well earned happily ever after and Jaskier is mortal. Jaskier is happy for Yen and Geralt after everything is said and done. Together with Ciri they brought peace to the land and finally made their relationship work after much hardships. It is a hard won decision, but Geralt, tired of all the fighting, decides agrees to take a break from being a witcher and just retire for a while with Yennefer by his side exploring and enjoying their new relationship.

The plan for their retirement doesn’t involve Jaskier and he doesn’t ask to accompany them. This is the ending of their story and he was never a protagonist. Side characters have no role in the happily ever after and he came to terms with a long time ago. All of them walk together side by side not quite ready yet to say their goodbyes. In his heart he knows it will be the last time they’re together like this, but he refuses to say the words out loud clinging to the hope that he will see them all again. The immortals by his side don’t notice the inner conflict, he hides with song and laughter.

First to go is Ciri, who has become like a daughter to him over the years even if the sentiment isn’t quite shared. To her, he ponders, he must be more like a fun uncle she can turn to when she needs a break from Geralt and Yen. He gladly gives her everything she needs and asks for and is so proud of the strong woman he helped raise. When she depards, eager to find her own place in the world, she leaves them alone in a clearing far enough from Kaer Morhen for Yen to use her portals.

Who would’ve thought the witch would grew on him so much over the years. A deep and chaotic friendship connects them now and knowing she finally found the love she’s been looking for all her life fills him with joy. The jealousy he used to feel towards her seems an eternity away. She deserves all the love she’s getting and gives so much back in return. Thanks to her hardly a day goes by without Geralt smiling and even with his smiles mostly directed at Ciri and Yen, Jaskier can’t find it in his heart to be discontent.

Geralt, grown so very soft compared to their beginning, initiates a hug and Jaskier allows himself to indulge in a fantasy of what could’ve been and never was. He imagines a life full of secret glances and stolen touches, whispered confessions over the campfire and a warm bed to return to. He imagines Geralt turning his embrace into a passionate kiss asking him to run away with him somewhere far away and then he lets go.

“See you around, Geralt.” He says with a smile as Yen leaves with him through a portal and he is left alone on the clearing.

Tears he held back for weeks flow freely down his cheeks now that there is no one is see and Jaskier takes his time to collect himself again before starting his journey again. It’s nearly dusk already and he should start putting it all into song. Audiences love a good happy end. 

His bones ache.

Time passes and the story of the witcher, the mage and the lioness becomes a legend, told and sung about far and wide. Jaskier has spend his last active years as a bard spinning them into an epic tale immortalising them for all generations to come. He can’t stand the thought of the world forgetting the trio and their deeds.

Yen and Geralt have all but disappeared from the face of the earth, but Ciri keeps up with him those first few year through letters and visits. She is a busy woman however and with time their contacts becomes few and far between until they cease completely around the time Jaskier decides to move to the coast to live out the last of his years.

He doesn’t blame her. She, like her parents, wasn’t made for a mortal life and why would you count the decades if you’ll live for centuries. By the time they will think of him again, he can only hope his songs will be enough for them to remember him by. 

Living by the sea is all that he thought it would be. He loves the unpredictable beauty of the ocean, the stormy winds and the salty air. The people are rough but merry and welcome the old rich professor from the big city with open arms, even though he’s grown completely useless over the years. His time as a bard is long since over and neither his hands nor his voice allow him to create the music he prides himself in anymore. All he has left are the stories of his youth, that he gladly shares with everyone in town.

One late spring day a big commotion is running through the little coastal town. A witcher has arrived and everyone is excited. They heard the heroic songs and stories about witchers and want to catch glimpse of the living legend. As the oldest in town and the only one who has any experiences with magic folk the townspeople steal him out of his cozy home and bring him out to talk and negotiate with the witcher.

He sees Geralt standing in the middle of the market square surrounded by curious and excited people of all ages, who dare not approach him just yet except for a couple of children held back by their parents. He is scowling. Of course he is scowling, Jaskier thinks as his heart begins to soar again. He tries telling himself that he is far too old for such silly romantic feelings, but he knows that him giving up on romance is just as likely as Geralt giving up on scowling.

The witcher has obviously been in a fight. His clothes are torn and there are bite and scratch marks all over his body. The people must’ve told Geralt to wait for him before talking to anyone because as he arrives inside the circle Geralt immediately faces him clearly annoyed at the whole procedure and asks

“You’re the elder here?”

Jaskier nods dumbfounded. For once in his life he does not quite know what to say as he tries to keep the tears from falling. Geralt clearly doesn’t recognize him as old and wrinkled as he is and Jaskier isn’t sure if he wants him to or not. Age has always been a bit of a sore spot considering the ageless company he liked to keep. In his youth he tried everything to look as young as possible but not even the best moisturizer in the world could help him now, he thinks slightly bitter as Geralt continues.

“Finished the job. I want my coin and place to stay for the night.”

The job? Jaskier is momentarily baffled. As far as he knows there were no monsters around except for the couple of teenage mermaid messing with the fishermen for the last couple of weeks but surely they couldn’t have banged up Geralt this badly.

“With the job you mean the mermaids?” He asks carefully trying to keep his voice steady.

“Hmm” Geralt grunts as eloquent as ever and Jaskier loses it and starts laughing. Decades later and Geralt still thinks “hmm” is a good enough answer to give. Decades later and Jaskier still understands him perfectly. He loves this beautiful idiot so much it hurts.

The way to the square and seeing Geralt again has tired Jaskier out and he needs to sit down. Thankfully someone in the crowd already brought a chair expecting him to need a rest after this encounter and guides him gently to sit down. Jaskier would’ve thanked the man if it weren’t for the fact that he’s still wheezing thinking about Geralt’s most recent heroic fight.

“You got beat up by a bunch of teenagers? How out of shape are you? You know you were just supposed to scare them a bit, right?” Jaskier manages to spit out in between his giggles.

“Now listen here, old man. You don’t-” Geralt starts through gritted teeth, unamused, only to be interrupted by Jaskier’s continuous laughter.

“Old man? Really, Geralt. We both know you’re much older than me in age and in spirit.”

Jaskier can see Geralt freeze up, confusion and dread slowly overtaking his expression but he continues talking unperturbed. Let Geralt figure it out for himself

“Seriously though you must’ve really let you go in your retirement. Yen’s magic made you lazy didn’t it? Please don’t tell me you’re hiding a potbelly unter all those armor. No, no Yen wouldn’t let you get one, I’m sure, but for you to lose your touch so completely. You must admit this is pretty hilarious.”

Tears have filled Jaskier’s eyes and he tries to wipe them away struggling to keep his laughter under control. Meanwhile, Geralt stumbles a bit, so out of place for the normally unfaced witcher. His eyes have grown wide in shock and his face pale. It’s proof enough for Jaskier that Geralt really didn’t realise how much time has passed between them and he feels lighter, relieved knowing Geralt hasn’t meant to forget about him for so many years. Who is he to judge Geralt for getting caught in the storm of love, when he’s standing here before him looking so vulnerable and scared all of a sudden. 

“J-Jaskier?” Geralt stutters in a fragile whisper and Jaskier’s heart clenches in his chest. Seeing him like this is hurting the witcher and there’s nothing he can do about except for making light of the situation and smiling through it just like in the good old days.

“Took you long enough, old friend. I was already scared you might’ve gotten forgetful in your old age.” He teases and notices the murmurs and stares of the bystanders all around them. In a dramatic motion he raises his hands and tries to shoo everyone away.

“All of you scram. Shoo! Let me catch up with Geralt in peace. Satisfy your curiosity tomorrow after the poor man had a proper bath. And you,” He faces Geralt again and waves him over. “Come here and help me up, will you. You can stay at my place for the night. Melitele knows I could use the company.”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that, Jaskier notes grimly as Geralt winces slightly at his words. He promises to be better and make this visit count. It’s unlikely that he’ll have another chance to be with Geralt like this and tainting their last time together with thoughtless remarks and accusation just would not do. He wants his love to have some good memories when he thinks of this in the future.

Almost mechanically Geralt obeys and ,unnoticed by anyone but him, hesitates only for a second before helping him him up.

“My house is not far but this might take a while. I’m not as fast on my feet as I used to be. But then neither are you it seems.” He says with a laugh gesturing at Geralt’s torn clothes. The only retort he gets is a grumpy growl as he links his arm with the witcher’s using him as a crutch and leaning into him just a little bit more than absolutely necessary.

The people scatter around them some slightly disappointed but mostly cheerful. Jaskier knows the town will go and prepare a surprise feast for tomorrow with Geralt as the guest of honor. And Geralt will pretend to hate it as much as he will secretly enjoy all the positive attention he’ll be getting. They make their way towards his house and it’s once again up to Jaskier to fill the silence. He tells Geralt about the town and its people, acutely aware of the stares Geralt is giving him. It must be hard for the witcher to see him like this all frail and wrinkled. 

“I may not have your magical witcher senses but even I can feel your staring, Geralt. What’s the matter?” Jaskier asks knowing full well the reason behind his behaviour. 

Sometimes Geralt needs to be forced to talk or else his quiet brooding will consume him and every attempt at conversation will be for naught. To Jaskier’s surprise however one question is enough to make him talk. Looks like he’s not the only one who changed a bit over the years.

“You look old.” Geralt blurts out, making Jaskier raise an eyebrow. “Yeees, that’s because I am old. Very old in fact. Still younger than you of course, but not everyone can be an ageless immortal like you.” He responds. Geralt has to do a little better than that.

“No, I mean you look older. You never looked older before. I didn’t realise how long it’s been. I forgot…" 

Regret oozes out of Geralt’s words and he doesn’t bother hiding it. It reminds Jaskier of his apology after the mountain disaster and he’d much rather not be reminded of that chapter of his life again, so he takes pity on Geralt and continues for him.

"You forgot that I’m just mortal. That I’m ageing like a normal human. I don’t blame you, my dear. Back then I was obsessed with looking young and terrified of growing older. Thought you wouldn’t want me around if I wasn’t uh pretty enough anymore." 

Geralt tries to interrupt him, likely for things he already knows or god forbid to apologize again for the mountain incident but Jaskier simply shushes him and keeps going.

"That was a load of horse dung of course. You should’ve seen me in my sixties, Geralt. I was the most sought after professor in Oxenfurt history. I broke so many hearts in those days.”

He sighs dramatically. “I gave the distinguished gentleman look a whole new meaning. Turns out graying hair and a couple of wrinkles just made me look more dashing. Even you wouldn’t have been able to resist my charms.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Geralt answers sounding amused and the thought of Geralt visiting him back in Oxenfurt makes him stumble. 

It had been a foolish fantasy of his. He used to imagine Geralt finding him in Oxenfurt during a lecture and suddenly becoming captivated by his new more mature side. After the lecture Geralt would be overcome with passion and drag him into a side corner, kiss him and apologize for how long it took to seek him out again. It would’ve been worth the wait.

Geralt holds him steady and helps him catch his footing. He is pretty winded after their short walk and needs a moment to catch his breath.

“You don’t have to take my word for it. There’s a painting of me in Oxenfurt somewhere on the campus. You should check it out next time you’re there.”

“I will. I promise.” Geralt says looking at Jaskier with an honest expression.

He feels heat rising in his cheeks and splutters. “Eh, um right well. Ah, here we are. My house. It’s not much but enough for an old man like me. Let’s go in.”

A bath was already waiting for them when they arrived. Marie, his housekeeper, had rushed home as soon as she heard Geralt would be staying with him and made the necessary preparation. He hired her some years back to help him around the house after he broke his leg in a stubborn attempt to do everything himself despite his age. His leg healed but Marie stayed. At least twice a day she comes around to cook him food, take care of the chores and keep him company for a bit. 

After Jaskier introduces her to Geralt and thanks her for her efforts she excuses herself to cook dinner leaving both men alone once again only a bath between them. He carefully sits down on the stool next to the bathtub and makes a silent note to give Marie a raise as Geralt undresses and gets in. Sexual pleasure might be beyond him now but her can still appreciate the form and Geralt even after decades of retirement is a sight to behold. He wonders briefly, while admiring the muscles before him, if witchers were even capable of losing their well toned bodies. Imagining Geralt skinny with no muscles or as big and soft man however does nothing to make him look any less appealing in Jaskier’s mind and he absentmindedly pours some of Geralt’s favourite bath oils into the water. 

An old routine is overtaking them and for a moment Jaskier forgets about his aching bones and brittle body. Feeling young again he prepares to help Geralt wash and hums a little melody. 

A silly little song he once came up with a couple of years into their friendship. Just the two of them under the night sky, a warm fire illuminating their camp as they had one too many drinks. He was teasing Geralt about something insignificant and Geralt retorted by singing a couple of lines back to him. The alcohol relaxing him enough to smile at Jaskier and with a sudden clarity the bard realised that he wasn’t feeling the simple fleeting infatuation he was used to, but something different entirely. Something true and lasting and all consuming. This was the love he sang about in his songs and had yet to fully grasp. This was the kind of love that could push him up to the greatest heights or leave him wanting forevermore. He listened to more of Geralt’s tone deaf singing and let himself fall, damn the consequences.

“I missed this” Geralt says relaxing into the bathtub.

You couldn’t have missed it that much or you would’ve come to see me sooner, Jaskier doesn’t say, instead he replies with a simple “Me too” and gently pushes Geralt’s head into the water.

“It’s a shame you cut your hair though.” He continues running his hands through the white hair. “Washing it was always my favourite part.”

“I forgot to take care of it and after a while it got all tangled up. Had to cut it in the end.” Geralt explains and Jaskier rolls his eyes exasperated.

“I spend so much time and money caring for your luscious white locks and you just forgot. I can’t believe it. My poor beautiful white hair. Where was Yen in all of this? I know she knows how to take care of long hair. How could she let this happen?”

Geralt lets out a chuckle that leaves him breathless as he glances at him with an oh so fond smile on his stupidly handsome face.

“She’s fine with me as long as I don’t smell too badly. You’re the only person invested enough in my personal hygiene to help me bathe.”

Jaskier, embarrassed, slaps a bunch of soap on Geralt’s head as a response and starts massaging it in. Geralt however moves away from his touch and takes Jaskier’s hands in his examining them carefully.

“You don’t have to do this.” Geralt frowns, worry in his eyes. “They must hurt.”

“They don’t. They’re just a bit stiff and hard to move. You won’t hear me play the lute anytime soon but this I can still do.” He reassures him. Today is one of the good days and meeting Geralt made him feel much more energized than usual. He can barely feel his aching joints and the moment.

“Now turn around like a good boy and let me have my fun.” He orders and Geralt obeys with a hmm.

After the the bath they treat the worst of Geralt’s few remaining wounds and make their way to the kitchen. Marie left their dinner neatly on the table before leaving for the day most likely to help the others out with the preparations for tomorrow.

They eat in comfortable as sun sets through the window illuminating the small room in orange hues. Jaskier doesn’t have much of an appetite and leaves his food for later in favour of watching Geralt eat. Neither him nor Yen knew how to cook anything more complicated than plain vegetable soup and from the way Geralt is devouring Marie’s cooking they haven’t bothered to learn it in his absence either. Idiots,the both of them.

“What are you smiling at?” Geralt asks him noticing him staring.

Jaskier ignores the question and proposes to go outside and watch the sunset instead. A couple of minutes later Geralt finishes eating and helps him around the house to the backyard and onto the bench facing the ocean. He had to be carried for most of the way there, his legs giving out under him at last. It’s been a long and he’s exhausted, only the thought of Geralt finally being at his side again keeping him awake.

Jaskier leans against the other man resting his head on his shoulder and watches the ocean waves move back and forth glistering under setting sun.

This is it, he thinks, this is what pleases me. He had been right all those years ago on the mountain when opened his heart to Geralt and asked him give him a chance to prove himself. A quiet life like this, just the two of them and the sea, would’ve been enough to calm his yearning heart.

“You’re quiet.” Geralt remarks, breaking the serene silence.

“Hmm.” He teases but Geralt’s mind is somewhere else. He seems uneasy, concerned.

“Have you ever been married? Are there any children?” The witcher blurts out blunt as ever-

The questions make him chuckle. “Of course not.”

“Why not?” Geralt pushes. “You said you had a lot of admirers back in Oxenfurt. There must’ve been opportunities.”

“Certainly.” He agrees lightheartedly and pats Geralt’s arm. “But how could I marry someone else when my heart already belonged to you. That wouldn’t have been fair.”

Geralt’s face crumbles. “Jaskier, I-”

“Oh don’t give me that look, Geralt.” He interrupts him. “We both know you’re much more observant than people give you credit for and I’ve never made loving you a secret.”

Jaskier takes Geralt’s hand in his and places a kiss on his knuckles.

“I never once regretted it. Any of it. So please no more apologies, my love.”

“Okay.” Geralt whispers and squeezes his hand tightly in response letting silence fall between them once again.

Okay, Jaskier repeats in his mind as he closes his eyes for the last time to the sound of the waves and the wind and Geralt’s slow and steady heartbeat. He is happy like this. It’s good enough.

[dothwrites]

part iii of mafia!au

Dean/Cas, canon-typical violence with some non-con drug usage. references to torture and blood (canon-typical)

part i | part ii

---

Once, Castiel had a world of possibilities at his fingertips, only awaiting his touch to unfurl and release their potential. The whole city spread open before him like a banquet, and he, the favored son, was able to cherry-pick experiences and scenarios. He could sample them at will and discard anything not to his liking. He strode through the world like a colossus, and watched the future unspool before his feet. 

Now, his world has shrunk to cycles: awake and not. Dark and not. Pain and not. 

Mostly, his world is pain. 

Much of what passes is outside his understanding. Faces swim in front of him, some familiar, some not. Some he recognizes, like Raphael and Naomi, his father’s right and left hand respectively, and some he doesn’t. Some he knows are impossible, like his mother. And some he just wants to see. Like Dean. 

Real and not real take on new definitions. He knows he’s not all there, at least not all of the time. He swims into awareness one day to witness someone bent low over his arm. A needle digs into the vulnerable flesh of his inner elbow, and blood trickles down to the floor. 

“No...What are you...stop it.” He watches, horrified, as blood wells and fills the glass syringe. A merciless thumb presses down on the plunger, pumping poison into his veins. “No, no...please. Stop. Please.” Castiel’s voice breaks on the last word, even as a chilling numbness begins to spread through his arm. If he were capable of mustering the emotion, Castiel would feel humiliated. A son of the Novak family, begging for mercy. 

Novaks don’t beg. Novaks don’t ask. Novaks take. 

And here he is, a single fat tear rolling down his cheek, even as his eyes roll back in his head and the world washes out and becomes Not. 

---

The Not is better than the Pain. 

His nerves are confused, too haywire from the drugs to properly protect him, and the Pain hits harder than it otherwise might. 

When he and Gabriel were little, his father had trained them (not his father, because Michael Novak had been busy with more important concerns than his sons, but someone on his father’s payroll) to withstand pain. He and Gabriel had been cut, had their hands held in fire, had their joints twisted and bent, and been beaten, all in the name of training any weakness out of them. Castiel knows pain. Castiel understands pain. 

But Pain and Not combine to make a hellish reality, one which Castiel’s sluggish brain fails to comprehend. Shapes move in and out through his peripheral vision as the walls melt around him. He doesn’t know if he’s floating or if the world is shifting around him. Things like hours become meaningless concepts. Eventually days lose their sense of urgency. 

Pain is his constant companion, lingering around his ribs, his legs, his feet, his hands...Pain lingers around his body. Sometimes, he’s even present and awake when they hurt him. He clamps his jaw around a scream (Novaks don’t scream, hissed in his ear, a slap across his face, Novaks don’t cry), but soon he’s not conscious enough to know whether or not he screams. 

He doesn’t think so. He hopes not. 

---

Clarity arrives in little blinks. 

Naomi’s face materializes before him. A cold smile graces her features as she flashes a light into his eyes. “Ah, Castiel,” she says, politely, like they’re both participants in a boardroom meeting. “Are you with us?” 

“Stop.” Castiel tries to put the bite of command into his voice, but his voice comes out as a weak croak. 

Naomi doesn’t do him the courtesy of pretending to listen. “Pupil reaction is delayed but within acceptable ranges.” She taps a quick note on her phone. “Your blood pressure is a tad high.” 

With difficulty, Castiel gathers the memories of the past hours (days?). His arm going numb, drugs pumped into his blood, the world spinning, Dean, his father, his mother, Gabriel, all swimming before him in a wild dance-- “Well, perhaps my body doesn’t like the drugs which you’ve been plying me with.” 

A cold tendril of fear wraps around Castiel’s heart at Naomi’s delighted little chuckle. “Oh Castiel, I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet.” She taps out another note. “If you’re still this cognizant, we need to up your dosage.” 

“No!” He’s overcome by terror at the thought of losing even this small amount of awareness. He tries to bolt, only to find his arms strapped down to the chair. The leather straps around his forearms creak with the strain of his struggling, but hold firm. “No, no, you can’t!” 

“Oh, sweet boy, yes we can.” Naomi turns around, and Castiel catches sight of the small table behind her. Surgical instruments gleam, as light glances off the wickedly sharp blades and needles. She chooses a syringe filled with clear liquid. Castiel’s stomach churns as she approaches him. 

With the ease of practice, Naomi ties a tourniquet around his upper arm. Castiel struggles and tries to jerk away from her, but the straps keep him immobilized. Her perfectly manicured thumb presses mercilessly on old bruises as she attempts to raise a vein. 

“Why not kill me?” Naomi’s eyebrow lifts in surprise, though Castiel has to remind himself that her surprise, like almost everything else about her, is a mask to hide her true intentions. Castiel licks at his dry lips before he continues. “You must suspect me. Why not just kill me and be done with it?” 

His father is not known for his mercy.

Naomi’s face breaks into a polished, insincere smile which never comes close to reaching her icy eyes. “Oh Castiel, what would be the point in killing you? A corpse can’t take over the Novak family.” She prods at his elbow and raises a vein. Before Castiel can even cry out, she plunges the syringe into his flesh. 

“Of course, after you’re done with your...punishment, you’ll need help. Someone to guide you on your proper path. You’ve shown that you can’t be trusted with the hard decisions, so I think it wise to have someone by your side. They’ll share your power, so to speak.” The smug tone in Naomi’s voice leaves no doubt in Castiel’s mind as to who she thinks will be “sharing” power with him. 

“So that’s it?” He has to gasp the words out; thinking is becoming difficult. “You torture and drug me to teach me a lesson, and by the end, I’ll just willingly agree with whatever you want?” 

Naomi’s smile never flickers as she looks at him, but there is a terrible satisfaction within her eyes. “Oh, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll agree to whatever I want, and you’ll do it with a song in your heart.” 

She turns back to the table, leaving Castiel to hyperventilate as her words rattle around his skull. She’ll leave him a vegetable, or something close to it. She’ll make him into her creature, she’ll rip him apart until there’s nothing left, and then rebuild him to her specifications. She’ll keep at him with knives and drugs until he’s so desperate for any reprieve that he’ll say anything, agree to anything, just to make it all stop. 

Naomi turns back towards him, a scalpel glittering in her hand, but mercifully, Castiel is already gone. 

---

He dreams, sometimes. Or not. It’s difficult to tell; the barrier between wakefulness and slumber is so very thin. 

Ungentle hands pry open his eyelids, and Castiel tries to snarl his displeasure. The sound comes out as a disgruntled whimper. He tries to jerk away, but he’s weak and the hands holding him are like steel. 

“--stiel. Cas. Are you there? Can you hear me?” 

Castiel moans as the hands finally release him. He blinks and a face swims into view. 

“Balthazar?” The middle of the name muddles through his mouth, but he gets enough across to make sense. “What are you...Why?”

Balthazar’s features twist and swim in front of his face; he can’t read them. “Good to see you’re alive. Try and keep it that way.” 

They’re not going to let me die, Castiel wants to tell him. They’re not that kind. 

But then he blinks, and Balthazar is gone. 

---

He wakes to find Dean’s face before him. 

Castiel forgot just how disarmingly beautiful he was. 

Dean’s smile is a sweet, gentle thing, which has no place in Castiel’s world, which tastes of blood and metal. In their time together, Castiel was never able to se this side of Dean except in quick little glimpses. He yearns for Dean’s warmth with a strength so viciousness that it surprises him. “Hey sunshine,” Dean murmurs, perched at the edge of the narrow bed. “How are you feeling?” 

Castiel blinks. There’s something wrong; Dean is hazy around the edges, and his eyes don’t blink like normal people’s. There’s a static quality to him which reminds Castiel of the portraits lining the walls of the mansion: Dean’s eyes stare through him, their gaze eerie and uncomfortable. 

Dean asked him a question. “I hurt,” he murmurs. His hand rubs at his chest. It takes a moment for him to realize that he’s not restrained. Too bad he’s too weak to do anything; no doubt that’s why he was allowed to remain unrestrained in the first place. “They come, and they...” He swallows. “Why are you here?” 

He put Dean in the car. That much he knows. He kept Dean safe. 

(Every time he struggles back into consciousness, that’s all they ask him: Where is Dean Winchester, where is Sam Winchester, where is Gabriel Novak? Castiel grits his teeth and spits blood and eventually he even allows them to hear his screams, but he never tells. 

Gabriel would have taken them away from the safe house. He knows how Gabriel’s brain works, pragmatic and ruthless for all his joking. From the moment Dean stepped out of the car alone, Gabriel would have known: Castiel wouldn’t be coming. Gabriel would have made a plan; coming back to the Novak stronghold was madness and suicide, so he never would have chosen that path. No, Gabriel would scatter them, send himself and the Winchesters so far underground that they could never be found. 

Where is Dean Winchester? Where is Sam Winchester? Where is Gabriel Novak? Castiel smiles, and when he can’t do that, he grimaces, and when that doesn’t work he finally wails I don’t know, and Naomi frowns and hurts him, and never realizes he’s telling the truth.) 

“I came to see you. I had to make sure you were all right.” Dean’s expression darkens. “Why did you do it? Why’d you let me go?” 

Weakness. From the moment of his conception, Castiel has been molded and forged to become a weapon without flaws, yet there was always a fatal imperfection right at the heart of him. For twenty-five years it went unnoticed, and then Dean Winchester managed to expose it with a single smile. 

(His flaw is that he feels, more than he was ever meant to, certainly more than his father would like. Castiel feels and burns with it, and that fire threatens to tear down anything in its path, including Castiel himself.)

“You would have done the same for me.” 

Dean’s smile never fades, even as he shakes his head. “No,” he says slowly, something like pity in his eyes, “no, I wouldn’t have.” Castiel’s breath catches in his throat, but Dean continues. “And now what? You’re dying? You’re letting them kill you? For Sam Winchester? What’s he, other than some brat you never knew? For Gabriel? He never gave a damn about you, because if he did, then he would be here right now.” A small, hateful laugh spills from Dean’s lips. “For me? Cas, don’t you know? I would have betrayed you in a heartbeat, as long as I could be assured I was getting something halfway decent out of the bargain.” 

Dean’s voice is brittle as it cracks against Castiel’s ears. “Face it, Cas. You’re here, getting yourself cut open to protect a bunch of people who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. Give it up.” Castiel chokes on the words, but Dean continues. “You could make it stop, you know. Just tell them where the safe house is. They know it was your idea. They know no one else had the information. No one else could have put it together but you, with that big brain of yours.” The look in Dean’s eyes is almost fond, or it would be, if the lines at the corner of his eyes weren’t so hard. 

“Come on, Cas. Aren’t you tired of hurting? Don’t you want it to stop?” 

“Shut...the hell up,” Castiel finally rasps. 

It’s not Dean. Absurd as it may sound, he knows Dean Winchester. And while Dean might be mercurial, ruthless, and brusque, he also knows--Dean would never be this cruel. Castiel’s seen the light in Dean’s eyes when he’s delighted, he’s seen how Dean’s mouth goes soft around the edges when Dean forgets to school his expression. He felt Dean’s kiss, the passion and the desire under his gruff exterior. 

This isn’t Dean Winchester. 

“Leave me alone.” Castiel tries to curl into himself, but his body is too stiff and he’s in too much pain to make it far. He subsides with a pathetic little whimper. He’d feel humiliated, if he had the strength for it. “You’re just...you’re in my head. You’re not real.” 

(His intellect had been the thing that he’d prided himself on the most; let others have their brawn, their guns, their knives. Castiel would have those too, make no mistake, but he’d have the intelligence to cut down all his opponents before he ever needed them. Now he’s whining at a hallucination, unable to tell the difference between dream and reality.)

“Oh no, Castiel,” a smooth, cloying voice says, and Castiel closes his eyes as Dean’s handsome features start to blur. “I’m afraid that it’s all too real.” 

Naomi smiles at him, and the light glints off a small hook held in her hand, menacingly close to his eyes. “Do you want to tell me where Dean Winchester is?” 

Castiel clenches his jaw and shakes his head with as much fury as he can manage. It’s not much. “Go to hell,” he finally manages. It’s the last swipe of a dying animal, one final gasp of defiance before the inevitable surrender. 

Naomi shrugs, her features carved and unmoving. “Very well, if that’s how you want this to go.” The point of the hook digs into the apple of his cheek with enough pressure to send a single pearl of blood down his skin. 

“Shall we begin?”

tbc...

---

tags--if you want to be added/removed, let me know. (also there’s a lot of you and tumblr is back on its bullshit; if you were left off it wasn’t intentional, and i’m a moron)

@screamatthescreen @queenvee08 @dizzypinwheel @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @rogerslouis @stay-inside-the-salt-ring @deansbff @spaceshipkat @espejonight28738 @proccastinate @organicpurplepants @good-things-do-happen-dean @protectyourdarlings @marichankitty @tequila-m0ckingjay @tehmanda @tanstaaflz @bluebell-24 @mypensandpencilss @breathingdestiel @random-hunter @mybonsai1976 @becky-srs @cas-s-sinoatrial-node @somethingblue42 @cxstielsgrace @iamasphodelknox @tnw14 @cockleslovesdestiel @fabreagab @painnnn-thats-it @hittheroadjus @faithlover611 @apieceofurmind @fanguuuuuurl

[twisted-nox-sidus]

(I'm bad with clear skies. I want to hide my ugliness from the light. But things lurk in the shadows cast by that light... And I'm a little interested in finding out more about them.) - Strix, narrating.

Based off nighttime and an owl, so she's not necessarily "twisted" from anything/anyone. She's actually designed around an otome MC struggling with the concept of love (because why not).

(Note: This post is super long since I put a lot of depth into this OC. There’s a lot of angst surrounding her than what’s given at face value. I even left out some details that are considered a surprise that reveals more about Strix. Some bits of her profile are rather messy and all over the place. I hope you guys love her as much as I do!)

Name: Strix Noctowl

Real Name: Secret

Nickname(s): Transfer Student, Problem Child, Newbie, etc.

Age: 16

DOB: 3/3 (Pisces)

Gender: Female

Height: 5'4.5" (164 cm)

Likes: Fluffy things, birds (particularly owls), music boxes

Dislikes: Gossip, thunder, her eyes

Hobbies: Reading, singing, piano playing

Race: Human

Affiliation: Night Raven College

Year: First

Relative(s): Unnamed mother (deceased), unnamed father (defected), unnamed grandparents, Sidney (great-grandfather)

Dorm: Unallied

Personality

A down-to-earth but curious young lady who never runs short of her sharp-tongue. She goes by Strix Noctowl in order to separately identify herself as the girl known specifically in Twisted Wonderland. Strix tends to be pessimistic and talk about pop cultural references no one in Twisted Wonderland would understand but nonetheless is determined to return home. She is more of a nocturnal person.

She is known to be “disobedient” and rebellious by the NRC. Many students admire her for her fearless, outspoken character but also keep at a distance to avoid getting roped in potential punishments with her.

Strix is not a virtuous person and can play petty if the situation compels her. She can be violent and won't hesitate to resort to a little punch to get her point across. Questions how most of the cast don't know the meaning "no" on a daily basis.

Underneath her shell, Strix is a touch-starved, naive, and utterly vulnerable girl. The absence of her parents led her to believe she is not loved and relies on her dear grandfather for almost anything she has trouble with. She is also shy about asking to fulfill her selfish desires and sometimes hides it too well that it becomes painfully evident to others.

Strix has a child-like impulse to touch things that pique her curiosity, such as trying to touch Leona's ears or Malleus' horns. The Savanaclaw dormitory is a prime victim of her "harassments".

Strix has a bad habit of falling asleep on a constant basis to the point she can sleep with her eyes open and stay still from what she was doing (ig. holding a stack of papers). This also happens arbitrarily at random places and time, such as sleeping mid-conversation. It's an impressive feat, as remarked by many of the guys. The habit was stemmed from the inner part of Strix that likes to dream (despite being a realist) and being a sound sleeper. She says this is the only time she can truly escape the cruel reality. It's a technique Strix may or may not be proud of.

About

Strix is a rare case at Night Raven College. Initially it appeared she had no powers whatsoever and was not remarkable in magic classes. Pretty disastrous, actually. She received a lot of hostility from the students who believe she doesn't deserve to be a worthy student at the prestigious magic academy, the very field she sucks at. Soon, Strix awakens her powers (explained in Abilities section) and works to control it while attending the college.

Due to Strix's insistence, she identifies herself as an "unallied" student and is taking residence at the run-down dormitory. She had complained a lot about each and every dorm and considers the NRC dorm a better place to reside in. She didn't really mind being the sole student in the rundown dorm since she was accustomed to solitude. She won't spend much time other than sleeping there anyways.

In order to repay Crowley's generosity and protection, she volunteered to work as his aid, such as helping clean up and sorting the books and documents piling up his workload. In addition, Strix works part-time across each of the seven dorms to earn herself money instead of relying on Crowley all the time. This also helps keep her busy and familiarize herself with the dorms and its students (since she has to cooperate with the uncooperative chaotic student body). (FYI, her payment is based on her performance which will be reported by the dorm leaders to determine the wage.)

Abilities

Strix has the ability to summon colorful, quirky, and adorable Dream Eater Spirits (please think of the Kingdom Hearts series because that's exactly what they will look like. I’m not capable of creating them myself so please use them as reference) that obey her heed. She surprisingly has good control of her magic (probably because she’s a dreamer and is adept with her dream magic as a result) and works on honing her abilities so she doesn't subconsciously summon the fun yet pesky creatures and start a zoo attraction. If a colorful creature is running rampant on campus, you know who is responsible for it. A common Dream Eater Spirit she summons is a curious owl dubbed Peepsta Hoo (shown below).

History

Strix was raised by her great grandfather Sidney since she was a child, whom she trusts and loves the most in her family. Sidney is a half-blind antique shop owner; a man who was born on the very day and year Disney was founded (10/16/1923). He practically grew up with Disney and shares his love with his descendants including Strix, who also adores the magic of Disney as a result. He is at least 96 years old, yet still somehow has spunk to him.

Strix's mother died from childbirth. Her father couldn't handle the sight of Strix who was slowly looking more like his dead wife every day and abandoned her to start a new life with another woman, essentially cutting ties with Strix when she was only five years old. In an outburst he said he hated Strix's eyes that were said to be devoid of light and emotion ever since she was an infant before leaving the house with luggage in hand. Strix dislikes her birthday since that marked the day her mother died and never encourages her own birthday parties or gifts.

Strix grew up resenting her eyes that were seen as a curse. Her grandparents even agreed with her former father that her mother gave birth to a "heartless, cursed monster". It was said that for the first five years Strix was born into the world, she barely expressed emotion outside of a blank slate, though Strix herself claims to not remember that. Her grandparents on her mother's side still resented her for her mother's death while the grandparents on her father's side don't want to have anything to do with her. Only Sidney was willing to raise her.

Strix is touch-starved due to the absence of her parents. As a child she had wished for them to pat her head, hug her, and hold their hands; the simple intimate things expected for family to do. She never knew her mother, and her father was aloof towards her and even treated her like the Plague by avoiding contact with her. What she had wished was for their affection, or rather the affection of a mother and/or father (which will be fulfilled by everyone’s bird dad Crowley in the future).

The only one who could meet her demands was Sidney who happily gives her attention and affection. He was the only one she could confide to and seek help.

Strix grew up believing she only needed to depend on the love of her great grandfather. She was extremely timid and nervous as a child who didn't understand how to befriend kids her age and harbored jealousy towards them who lived with happy families. This jealousy is what primarily made her keep a distance from them. As a result, she didn't make any friends, and never had up to when she was warped to Twisted Wonderland.

Strix once had a crush on a boy (dubbed "Caelum" for narrative purposes) who smiled brightly like the sun and filled her with warm giddiness. However, that was when she was six years old and the boy in high school, practically a decade year gap between them. It was more of adoration than romantic attraction, but she never met anyone else who was as nice and warm as him other than Sidney.

Caelum was her neighbor who babysat her whenever Sidney had to run errands. He played with her and spoiled her with her needs; they were like brother and sister. It was until he had graduated and moved away to dorm in a faraway college that they never saw each other again until seven years when a letter of invitation was sent for his wedding.

Strix's emotions conflicted over how she should express her romantic feelings among the platonic ones up to the day of his wedding. She froze up and fled out of fear before she could answer him. The moon was blue yet cold that night, and she discovered something like a mirror in the garden pond. She was suddenly shoved from behind and fell into the mirror. This leads to the current situation and the start of a twisted fairytale where happy endings are not as they seem.

Trivia

- Strix is a name used in various mythologies to refer to creatures who bring forth misfortune. They usually appear in the form of birds, mainly owls. "Strix" is also a genus of owls in the typical owl family (Strigidae).

- Noct in Noctowl means "night". Yes the owl is snuck in there, go figure.

- Strix's birthday falls on "I Want You to Be Happy", also known as Girl's Day.

- Strix once took care of a baby snowy owl as a child but had to say her farewell when it was released into the wild. Ever since, she likes to learn more about the beautiful feathered creatures.

- Strix's preferred type of person is someone who would wholeheartedly accept her touch-starved needs. Of course, she would do the same vice versa.

- Strix's most treasured item is the wristwatch that also plays like a music box. She never goes out without it. She also carries a gold heart lock (the one seen in her default outfit) on her out of impulse and never bothered to understand why. She says she feels safe bringing it with her.

- Strix has 2.0 eyesight. She can pinpoint a person from far away and recognize them.

- If you rub Strix's head in a particular way by running your fingers from behind her ears and massaging her scalp, she'll fall asleep. Apparently it calms her nerves and loosens the tension built up. She melts like goo on the spot and subconsciously clings to the person, purring in contentment like a completely different person (like an affectionate house cat). It's effective for silencing her, having her sleep, or just fluster her altogether. The first in the NRC to discover this embarrassing weak spot was...? That's a story for another time, though.

- Strix learned to play the piano for ten years since she was six years old, the same time when she first met Caelum. Caelum was the one who got her into the piano after expressing his love for the instrument and classical music. Initially Strix played to earn recognition from him, but over time, especially after he left, she grew fond of the piano (also because the sound works similarly to a music box) and honed her expertise in the field. She won piano competitions up to now and has a goal of becoming a pianist in her career. Her piano skills are highly praised by her peers and sought after by Azul, but even then she feels insecure. Ever since the wedding, her hands freeze up and hover over the keys as she automatically recalls the daunting memory of Caelum and her bittersweet emotions. The crowd's peer pressure wasn't helping either. (And yes, she can play the piano while asleep. What a pro.)

- Strix's love for Disney makes her prone to humming and singing to songs including but not limited to Disney as she works (of course when she knows she's alone). Sometimes she can get carried away with her singing and wind up lost in her own world as she does and would take a while to notice another presence in the room. When she gets caught, she dies on the inside and gets extremely embarrassed to the point of acting tough with a tomato red face. Apparently she is terrible at being self-aware of her surroundings when she gets into it. Then again, this is the same girl who falls asleep in the middle of corridors without realizing she was asleep.

- On that note, her singing voice is actually really nice, almost trained like a pro. Azul officially never lets her out of his sights now that she has full potential to be a full-time staff at Mostro Lounge. Her singing and piano skills are much needed at Mostro Lounge, however Strix would only willingly do the latter. She would die before singing in public. That's a big no no.

- Strix is said to have back (and neck) problems. Probably from the arbitrary times she sleeps in uncomfortable positions, or simply the stress from Night Raven College and the students' antics overall. Someone once touched her shoulder and mistook her for a statue. It's surprising how her appearance hides the stress and drowsiness well. She looks nothing like your average sluggish person.

- Strix likes antagonistic characters in storytelling. She tends to like the villains more than the main characters because she admires the good, the bad, and the ugly of their characters unbound by the laws that prevent them from their free spirits. They're flawed, but she finds relief in knowing they are not completely black like many would depict.

- Strix had a fear of brooms as a child after she watched Fantasia. She grew out of it soon, but even to this day she still looks back on the rather horrific scene with a pale face while holding the broom during flight class, much to Ashton’s confusion.

[independentartistbuzz]

7 FROM THE WOMEN: RED FLOWER LAKE

Red Flower Lake is lush, heady electro-pop. Aloe vera for our dried-out hearts. Sweeping melodies and understated yet complex soundscapes. These songs are open doors to a relationship: two people who know each other about as well as two humans can, singing to the other, about each other, offering a brave and heartfelt depiction of the territories they have survived and navigated together. It’s all here: intimacy and distance, heartbreak and ecstasy. Vulnerability, insecurity and courage.

1. What have you been working to promote lately?

It feels like I have been working on promoting a lot lately (internally and externally). Things like honesty, clear communication, empathy, patience, naming emotions, opening my heart, peace in my family, etc, etc.

But that’s not quite what we are talking about. ;)

I have been working alongside my husband to promote our EP Three Truths as well as an exhibit of our multi-media work at the Torosiete museum of contemporary art - a virtual museum unlike any other. Our exhibit just opened at the end of October and will be open for all of time - as long as there is internet.

Our EP Three Truths consists of three songs, Heart is Breaking, Baby Don’t Go, and Brave. The first two were written when we had super young kids (about 8 years ago).

When we were first considering releasing some songs this past May, we weren’t sure which songs to begin with. We were pretty tired of Heart is Breaking and Baby Don’t Go but also felt like they were worth something, belonged together, and like they might be the beginning of a story. We figured we would see what mixing one of them would do and take it from there. We sent out Baby Don’t Go and after trying a couple different mixers, we landed on Mike Pepe through a family friend named Kelly Musgrave at Linear Management. He did his thing and we actually got inspired enough to completely redo the vocals which was pretty satisfying. I had started voice lessons several months earlier and felt like I had more to offer the song. Once the energy was back in Baby Don’t Go it was pretty exciting to see what some mixing would do to Heart is Breaking. Deciding to release those particular songs really felt like the end of a pretty challenging time. It has been nice to have them out in the world where people might be able to relate to them giving voice to an experience that is painful but also real. I don’t know how many emotions we get away with leaving unturned but I appreciate a song that can help me reflect on a feeling.

Heart is Breaking was the kind of song that was so of a moment, it didn’t feel worth it to try and enunciate the words better or change what I was unsatisfied with after hearing it mixed. I am curious whether that choice will actually impact my satisfaction long term but, so far, I have found it both surprising and amusing that putting something out into the world that is a little bit vocally unfinished doesn’t bother me at all.

As for Abel’s vocals though, they are straight from the heart. They are also his original vocals. I remember when I first heard them I felt a lot less significant as part of our musical duo. He just put it all out there and it sounds so good. Heart is Breaking speaks to the experience of wanting love even though it seems to always end in heart break. An experience that, as a young parent, felt very prevalent.

Brave to me is all in the title. My setup is such that if I want to play around on the keyboard with a feeling I’m having, I still need to pull up ProTools and title the session - even though I don’t know what I am going to play which is the case a lot. Often when I am sitting down to play music, it is to explore something in my mind and on my heart and in this case I wanted to be brave about that exploration so I titled the song Brave. Brave is about sticking around and being present to see what is true even if it is scary.

All of the songs I write are deeply personal. In the past, it has sometimes surprised me that Abel would even touch the material, considering how blatant it is but I’ve learned that I’m not the only one in the relationship that sometimes feels paradoxical and complex feelings.

Having made music together for such a long time now without releasing any of it, we are both really excited to share more of the story and more of our music. It feels like an epic tale that is still revealing itself in real time. Three Truths feels like the beginning of a bigger message - this first message being “Damn this is hard but relationship is sort of like that sometimes”.

2. Please tell us about your favorite song written, recorded or produced by another woman and why it’s meaningful to you.

Sade’s Smooth Operator. There are a lot of songs and a lot of reasons why to pick them but this one pulls me right back to a time in my life when not a lot of things were easy but at that moment, the house was warm, the whole family seemed happy and there was an abundance of food. I was maybe 5, my family was living with my great aunt and her daughters who were at least ten years older than us. We were all still getting used to living together and my family was still getting used to living in Va after moving from New Mexico. When Smooth Operator came into my awareness, it was the day after Thanksgiving and there was a bounty of leftover mashed potatoes, peas and onions in cream sauce, and stuffing that needed to be eaten. While we formed those leftovers into little balls and baked them, we were introduced to that song. I think we may have listened to the whole album a couple times through but we named our food creation after Smooth Operator and it is one of the special happy memories I have from an amazing but also pretty heavy childhood. Throughout my childhood from then on, Sade was a voice I leaned into. I remember one night my twin sister and I lay down in the dark of her empty room in middle school and listened in consecutive order through Diamond Life, Promise, Stronger Than Pride, and Love Deluxe on our tape player to the light of a big moon. One of my all time favorite nights.

Smooth Operator felt like a warning. Like watch out girls, they’re everywhere. The first song of their first album. Her voice was always my reference. I wanted my voice to sound like hers. I wanted to make songs like hers - with a point, with heart, and with a voice you want to listen to. Smooth Operator is our family anthem, made so by a moment we all recall fondly - an odd anthem perhaps but my family is as odd and as amazing as they get.

3. What does it mean to you to be a woman making music / in the music business today and do you feel a responsibility to other women to create messages and themes in your music?

Having an opportunity to use my voice as a woman at this time feels very special and important and I hope that I am doing my part in honoring the power of the feminine, and the important work of keeping it real in all my relationships at all levels.

I work to be authentic and express as clearly from my heart as I can. Making music - making art,  is a way for me to connect with my emotions, my inner wisdom, a way to express those feelings, ultimately it is a way to communicate something that means something to me. I recognize that this is a potentially self indulgent process and I pray that my purpose of honoring the human experience and reminding us of our power is conveying.

It is important for me to be super honest because there are so many feelings I have felt ashamed of and wouldn’t even admit to in the past that I am now realizing are actually just part of a human experience. Honoring and expressing my truth thus far has been a thousand times more empowering than the results have been of hiding from my truth as a result of believing I should be ashamed of my feelings and for believing in my worth - what I know is true in my heart. Denial of my truth has wreaked havoc in my life and it isn’t worth another moment of time to feed or encourage such disempowering paradigms.

I recognize that we all have a lot to heal from and a lot of healing work to do individually and collectively. I think a large part of that healing work is around being brave enough to honor our feelings, identifying their source, and getting empowered to speak/know/honor our truth - a truth that is both unique and valid.

Perhaps if we are able to honor ourselves in this way, we will be able to hear each others’ truths with compassion, recognizing ourselves in each other's struggles.

A big step for me in my healing journey has been accepting and being willing to hear and honor my own truth. No more wars - internal or external. When I am not fighting myself, I am one less person who is fighting themselves and that is extremely motivating. I think all of my fighting ultimately comes from internal conflicts so I might as well start with that and find some way to work that stuff out. I have been working on not making other people the bad guy but, if I see ‘bad guy’ out there in the world, to note that I see a reflection of parts of myself I still am in a healing process with.  

I am not sure what the depths of our world’s healing will entail but I know my responsibility is to my own healing and it is empowering to own that responsibility. I pray we all honor ourselves like the magnificent and unique creations we are and honor ourselves like we are somebody’s child who adores us. Even if we can argue that our parents did not or do not love us, there is still and always will be immense love for each of us in the vast universe and from our mama earth. We are worthy of our best life. In fact. I think it is the only sustainable future.

My responsibility is to honor and stay true to my truth.

4. What is the most personal thing you have shared in your music or in your artist brand as it relates to being female?

All of the songs I write are extremely personal and expose my deep internal struggles. But I am okay with being a voice and a sound. Being an image has not been easy. Learning to embrace my face, my body, my movement, my inner style, etc, feels much more exposing and personally challenging. The entire world of what is sexy, what is beautiful, what is inspiring, what is useful, etc. has been out of reach for me since forever. I find that the more I turn toward my spiritual truth, my spiritual purpose, toward awe and gratitude for the children in my life, the more permission I have and the more energy I have for exposing my physical person on a true and personal level. What feels beautiful, what feels empowering, what feels good and right?

I have in the past, been absolutely disempowered around beauty and sex that I feel like only now am I getting access to any answers internally about what is beautiful, empowering and what feels good for me. I am a mother and it is important to me that the children in my life have examples of real women and men in their lives who are empowered and strong and honest- not because of our physical form but because of our clarity in purpose and our open hearts.

I know the sexiest thing a person can do in my heart/ mind is their inner work, get straight with themselves about what they are doing here and live and breathe their purpose.

On the level of the eye, I think playing with what my spiritual guides have to say to me at any given moment feels the most appropriate and fun. I’d rather be in a conversation with them about physical expression than with old paradigms of sex appeal and survival on this physical plain.

5. What female artists have inspired you and influenced you?

Oh my goodness, So many. I really believe that the unapologetic art of all women throughout time has molded me as part of the collective creative conscience. Art begets art.

I come from a family of bohemian artists and I would be remiss in not honoring them particularly and their absolute influence in my life. Their authentic expressions have absolutely shaped and inspired me and I am so grateful to each of my family members for their conscious participation in living their best lives.

My highschool teacher and friend Zap McConnel reinforced and added to what my family already inspires in me. She was my first real mentor and example outside of my family in living a life of integrity and breaking the molds of our boxed beliefs.  

And Beatrice Ost. She has been part of my family for a long time but it really wasn’t until her grandchildren connected with our kids that we became better acquainted and, just as kids tend to do, through our children we have been led into a most beautiful and inspiring relationship of collaboration and inspiration. We wouldn’t be where we are now without her and really everyone in the world. The ripples are real.

6. Do you consider yourself a feminist? If so why and if not why?

I consider myself a feminist because I believe in the unique and essential wisdom of the feminine and its absolute importance in the balance of life. I could also consider myself a divine masculinist but that movement is really in conjunction with the healing of the divine feminine. It is for all of us to heal from this woundedness - not just women.

There is no denying that women have been oppressed for millenia - longer than any other human group except children - and it feels important to me to keep raising the collective awareness to the long lasting effects of oppression that continue to weigh on the lives of everyone. If mama is oppressed, everyone is oppressed because if mama is oppressed she does not have the power she needs to stand up for what she knows in the depths of her heart - to care for the hearts of her family and that kind of pain and injury is passed down a long way.

I have been considering the narrative of our media history around witches - how they have been conveyed so terribly in our social history. I am interested in those stories from the witches’ perspectives. I’d love to hear the backstory of Ursula the deep sea witch in The Little Mermaid. It seems to me that she may have wanted to say something to someone… An easily identifiable sentiment for most human beings at this point. There can be no more pretending how much we have all suffered because of fear and domination. I don’t think we need to gender specify suffering generally but just like with race, it is true that there are some significant stereo types that have been disempowering for a long time.

We are still living in the antiquated world of shame about menstrual cycles for God’s sake! It’s bonkers. I can attest that this particular gift has felt like a burden in this worn out world of 9-5 schedules and limited sick days and - if any - and our basic needs for survival are not cared for enough so that we don't even know this immense gift as an honor. But as we each recognize our person as an immense gift and when we honor ourselves and each  other as such, we change the world.

I am a feminist and a masculinist because I strongly believe that each of us as individuals needs to feel empowered as part of something larger than just our individual egos. Each of us is essential and honoring our unique gifts will and does heal our world in deep and profound ways. Each of us knows something, has a purpose here that needs to be respected by everyone. Men and women both would benefit from honoring the feminine in all that is and vice versa. It is a balance and as long as the balance is off there will be a need for feminism. And just as much there is a need for honoring the divine masculine. It truly is a matter of balance - one that needs support internally and externally as individuals and as a collective.

7. What was the most challenging thing you have had to face as a female Artist?

The most challenging thing I have had to face as a creative being is myself. My own pride and jealousy, self doubt, and a need for external approval have kept me from taking risks, whether it is going into action or taking a nap. Everything I did or didn’t do was based on what I thought somebody else might think which gave me very little room for actual self expression. Giving myself permission to exist independently of other people’s approval and trusting the creative flow has been a matter of challenging oppressive systems - both external and the ones and the ones in my head that I have defended as part of a fear based world. As I continue to grow wiser and my body becomes more of an ally for my heart rather than a sculpture project, I find myself in battle with old paradigms around self image.

It is an interesting time to be alive and I have lots of hope for us as a collective as I continue to break my own belief systems because if I can do it, it can be done. Breaking out of old and limiting beliefs, considering new paradigms, recognizing my inner/outer calling and prioritizing that calling beyond all else has been liberating and empowering. My dream is that all our dreams come true. I know my heart is based in love and that all the struggle has been for learning. This knowledge has helped me come to terms with trauma but I would say I think oppression is systemic and the more we can break free of our own excuses and reasoning to defend oppressive systems, the more swiftly and easily we will transition to a new world. I am more than happy to be inviting in a paradigm of inclusivity, kindness, inquiry, compassion, and honesty. An undeniable breath of fresh air from so many oppressive paradigms past and present.

Listen to “Three Truths”

Connect with Red Flower Lake online via:

https://www.redflowerlake.com/

https://www.instagram.com/redflowerlake/

https://www.facebook.com/redflowerlake

https://twitter.com/RedFlowerLake

[yoon-kooks]

Signed in Black- FINAL

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, BadBoy!AU, FLUFF, Smut

Summary: Min Yoongi. That was the name magically tattooed to your skin. You were told he was your lover by fate. And as cute as it would be to have a soulmate, Yoongi was the last person you ever wanted to be bound to. But thankfully, there was a way to remove the tattoo. All you had to do was convince six Bulletproof Fairies that the two of you were in love.

Word Count: 3.3k

Parts: ONE // TWO // THREE // FOUR // FIVE // SIX // FINAL

A/N: at long last, it’s finally here :’) thank you for all your patience and support! i hope it was worth the wait!! also please note that parts 1-6 are all written in past tense, but i decided to write this one in present tense bc it fit the smut better ahahaha enjoy💖💖💖

“How long do you think it’ll take before Jimin passes us and frees us from this whole Soul Link thing?” You lay on your stomach, looking down at the boy who looks up at the ceiling of your dimly lit bedroom. Surely Yoongi has as much on his mind as you do.

“Who knows with those pesky little fairies,” Yoongi shakes his head with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Jimin popped onto the bed right now.”

Resting your head down on the boy’s chest, you listen to the beat of his heart. For as calm as he appears, his heart races much quicker—in sync with your own. Perhaps it’s the uncertainty of what the future holds that both worries and excites your hearts. “I really hope not,” you peek up at him.

“Me too.” His eyes, gentle and warm, somehow assure you that everything will be okay, that you’re safe with him.

You lift your head just a tad to admire your soulmate and the bond that had blossomed between you and him. With a light finger, you begin outlining your name along Yoongi’s ribs where you know his tattoo is hiding beneath his shirt. You do this several times. And when you’re finally done, you take that same index finger and tap it against his lips as gently as possible.

“Yes?” He wets his lips with his tongue, waiting for you to tell him what you want. Of course he already knows. He’s just teasing you.

You continue to blink at his pink lips with no intention of blurting out your deep lust for the boy. This goes on for a long, painful minute until both of you finally cave.

First him. “A kiss?”

Then you. “A kiss.”

A kiss. His lips graze against yours, like the tip of a feather. It’s barely a taste, but just enough to pull you in. Like gravity, you find his lips once more and push back. It might be your first kiss, but somehow you don’t need much guidance. It feels natural, the way his lips fit so perfectly with your own. Everything just fell into place.

Rolling over onto your back, you allow Yoongi to hover over you, to explore more than just your lips. He leans in, leaving a trail of tender kisses from your cheek down your neck. It isn’t until he reaches the nape of your neck that you start to feel small nips tugging ever so slightly at your skin, begging for more.

The tiniest sound escapes your throat. The nipping stops. Yoongi surprises you with another kiss on the lips, this time pausing between pecks to check up on you.

Your face is flushed with heat, your hands grasping to pull him closer. He’s relieved to see that your sound was out of pleasure and not pain.

“Yoongi, can we…” You pause out of shyness.

“…have sex?” He finishes your question, not to pressure you, but to encourage you. To let you know he’s on the same page.

You could only nod as Yoongi sits you up next to him on the bed.

“You’re really sure?” The pout jumps out.

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m really sure,” you laugh, unbuttoning your shirt to make it very clear that you’re indeed ready.

When you get stuck at the last button, Yoongi watches you fidget and struggle before jumping in. With his long dexterous fingers, he unhooks the button with ease. You feel a chill of air as he helps you out of your top.

His eyes widen at the sight of your two little friends, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d never seen an exposed chest before.

Only slightly embarrassed and moreso cold, you scurry off the bed to shut the lights off before crawling into the blankets.

“You good?” Yoongi chuckles at you from outside the blankets.

“Yeah, just cold,” you give him a thumbs-up.

“Would you like me to warm you up?”

“Yes, please~” You lift the blankets to invite him in, but of course, he has to rid himself of his shirt first. Unlike him, you opt not to stare too long and rush him into the covers with you.

You feel his warm palm against your cheek, sending a wave of goose bumps across your body and making certain areas extra perky.

“I promise you won’t be cold for long,” he smirks. Rolling on top of you once more, he continues his trail of kisses down past your neck as his hands explore the curves of your body. Once his hands find your chest, your body responds. You shift up against the massage of his hands in hopes of generating more heat, more pleasure.

By the time the tips of his fingers hit the band of your leggings at your hips, you’ve long forgotten about the cold. The heat shared between your body and his did a good job of distracting you, and it’s already spread down between your legs.

Over the fabric of your leggings, his sneaky fingers run past your waistline to the center your heat. You feel two fingers press up against you, the friction intensifying lustful feelings for more of his touch.

You squirm around trying to find the best position to soothe the throbbing between your legs. You arch your back, spread your legs as wide as they could go, but nothing seems to be satisfying your cravings. And then it hits you. The problem isn’t your position… It’s the fact that Yoongi’s taking his sweet time torturing you through layers of clothing.

You lift your ass off the mattress to kick your leggings and panties aside and feel around for Yoongi’s fingers. When you find them, they’re already wet with your lust, but you’ve already moved past feeling self-conscious. So you pull him back to your exposed core, aching to be stroked and played with.

Despite your desperate attempt, Yoongi does not immediately lay a finger on your excited little bundle of nerves.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Y/N.” He runs his hands up your inner thighs, and just when you think he’s going to reach your crotch, he diverts out and around to your ass and back down. “I want to hear your voice.”

“Yoongi please…” you manage to whimper through the overwhelming suspense. “Touch me.”

The boy finally presses his fingers into you, stroking along your wet folds, but never quite hitting that spot. In a second desperate attempt, you roll your hips against his touch, though it only seems to tease you more than it relieves the ache. And the more you needy you become, the more you use your voice.

Every time a moan escapes you, you're rewarded with more pressure around your stiffening bud. Every time you curse, another finger fills you. And every time you cry out his name, Yoongi does something new.

“Yoon… gi…” You think you can’t possibly take much more of the foreplay. But you’re so wrong.

The boy disappears out of sight, beneath the blankets where you’re most vulnerable. Your sensitive core is tickled by his hot breath, an indication of how close his lips must be to putting you out of your misery.

Suddenly, a warm sensation glides over you. You feel your clit swelling with excitement as his tongue flicks it back and forth. The naughty side of you is tempted to kick the blankets off so you can watch the boy as he eats you out. But what’s left of your rational self is what keeps the blankets where they are. So instead, you can only imagine how he uses his tongue to make you feel so fucking good.

Once your erect little bud is swollen enough, you feel it being taken in between his lips. The slick sounds of sex and the added pressure surrounding your most sensitive spot are nearly enough to drive you over the edge. You want so badly to hit your high already, but even more than that, you wish for Yoongi to experience it with you.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your back arching out of sheer pleasure. It’s only when your clit is freed from his lips that you’re able to catch your breath. And after what seemed like hours, the boy emerges from the blankets with incredibly hot bedhead.

But rather than filling you with another finger after your curse, he presses the bulge suppressed by his jeans against your crotch.

“I don’t suppose you have any spare condoms on you, do you?” You start unbuckling the boy’s belt. “None in your wallet for a rainy day?”

“Not anymore,” he runs his fingers through the bedhead. The spontaneity of hook-ups is a thing of the past for Min Yoongi, former fuck boy. “But for what it’s worth, I do have an unopened box back at my apartment with your name on it,” he smirks.

“So do I,” you quickly roll off the side of the bed and pull a tiny square packet from a box on your nightstand labelled Honey Boy.

After getting it on the boy, he lays you back down and uses a pair of fingers to make sure you’re ready to take him in. Lubrication is not an issue after the foreplay you suffered through, but you hope you aren’t too tight for his rather large self.

With his tip at your entrance, you squirm around the bed eagerly awaiting being filled. Once he finally starts easing his way in, the process of adjusting to his size is awfully tedious, though hearing Yoongi moan makes it all worth it.

At the same time, he takes hold of your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. “Let me know if it hurts at all.” The gentleness that reflects in his eyes reminds you that you’re his first priority, and that he’ll take care of you no matter what.

You nod, giving Yoongi’s hand a warm squeeze. Meanwhile, his other hand slides back down your body to give your bud more attention. The tender back-and-forth motion of his veiny fingers has you panting under him, fiercely gripping the sheets with your claws, in such a hot and impassioned state.

Very quickly now, you feel his length penetrating deeper inside you with more ease. In and out, he fills your body with a pleasure and warmth you can’t resist. Your hips start rolling by pure instinct, colliding with his strong yet needy thrusts.

“Mmn, Y/N…” he groans, throwing his head back amidst the lust. The way he moans your name in that raspy low tone of his sets you off without warning. Your muscles clench around him as a wave of ecstasy consumes your entire body. “Fuck,” he growls because your tightening walls set him off as well.

Faster, harder, louder, you milk out every last ounce of pleasure together. His touch, his sounds, his warmth—his everything is what makes you feel best. And when all the heat of sex subsides, you’re left with a feeling you won’t be able to shake off. Love.

Yoongi tosses his body down beside yours, his heart still racing. You roll over to him and cling like a magnet. He plants the softest kiss on your forehead while massaging your back. But neither of you say a word. You don’t need to.

-

The next morning, you awaken to the delicate sleeping sounds of Min Yoongi. His chest moves in a slow swaying motion, a soothing platform to rest your head on. And as much as you’d like to stay in that position forever, you have to use the bathroom.

Very carefully, you wiggle your body out of the boy’s embrace and grab his white shirt off the floor before scurrying off to the bathroom. When you pass the mirror, you notice something different—does everyone glow like this after sex? You also find the tiny pink bruise on your neck very charming.

It all seems peachy until you notice one more thing. The tattoo, the black ink on your ribs that had spelt Yoongi’s name, is gone. A tear slips from your eye and it’s hard to say whether it’s out of relief, sadness, or a combination of the two.

Ever since that fated day when it had first appeared on your skin, you’d desperately wanted it gone. You wanted nothing to do with a bad boy. But now you couldn’t feel more differently about the whole situation. And you only hope Yoongi feels the same way as you.

Shaking the tear away, you throw the boy’s shirt on and return to bed. Yoongi, now half-awake, holds the blankets up for you to crawl back in. You do so and cuddle up to him without saying a word.

“It’s cute that you’re wearing my shirt,” he greets you with a kitten smile, but it doesn’t last long when you don’t give him a response. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head even though it doesn’t answer his question.

“Was I too rough…?” His eyes fill with worry as he examines your body for any indication of the cause of your gloom.

“You were perfect, Yoongi,” you speak softly into his chest. “I loved that it was you who I had my first time with.”

“I loved it too.” He pulls you in for a nice long kiss. His lips slow dance with yours, truly savoring the moment. The only reason why he breaks the lip lock is to say something important. “And I love you, Y/N.”

You want to tell him you feel the same way, but your heart is torn. You need to tell him that the tattoos that had once bound the two of you together no longer exist. There’s no more obligation imposed by the fairies to keep either of you from running away. It’s all up to choice now.

“When I got up to use the bathroom… I noticed the tattoos were gone,” you say, hoping it doesn’t shock the boy too badly. His pause worries you.

But then he chuckles. “You didn’t notice they were already gone last night?” This shocks you.

“Wait, when?”

“When I lifted your shirt off and you got all cute and flustered because I was staring too long.” That explains why he looked like he’d never seen a chest before. “You really didn’t notice?”

You try to recall staring at the shirtless boy during sex, but to be honest, you were probably too distracted by lust to think about the tattoo. “It was too dark,” you shrug.

But wait. If Yoongi already knew that the tattoos were gone, doesn’t that mean he meant everything that was said after that? He really meant it when he said he loved you.

“Anyway!” You finally smile at the boy and give him a big smooch on the lips. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

And just like that fated day you and Yoongi discovered your tattoos, the two of you are engulfed by sparkles and transported to a familiar red and pink room. You’re greeted by the six fairies of the Bulletproof Fairy Council and a half-assed poster that reads, “Congrats on your marriage!” except the word marriage is crossed out in black ink and replaced with Soul Link.

“Well, I hate to say it, but you guys proved us wrong,” Namjoon waves with a grin you never thought you’d see. “Congratulations on completing your Soul Link. May your souls forever be entwined by love. If you guys come to hate each other in a year, sucks for you.”

“Y’all are fucking cute,” Jungkook gives you a thumbs-up.

“Disgustingly cute,” Hoseok groans.

“Remember, if it doesn’t work out (which it definitely will), I’m single and ready to mingle, Yoongi.” Seokjin slips your soulmate a paper with his number on it.

“Jimin, you owe me big time for allowing this to happen,” Taehyung holds his palm out to Jimin with a hmph.

“I’m so happy for you guys! Love exists~” Jimin shakes Taehyung’s hand.

“Um, thanks?” With the exception of Jimin, you can really feel how much faith those pesky fairies never had in you. But at the same time, it feels good to have beaten the odds and proved them wrong.

“So, no offense or anything, but are you guys going to stop bugging us now?” Yoongi asks.

“Hell yeah, we ar-” Taehyung is interrupted by a smack in the head by Namjoon.

“Since this is our final farewell, I think we should send our friends off with our best wishes,” the leader of the Fairy Council says. And after five out of the six fairies wave bye with absolutely no enthusiasm, Jimin approaches you and Yoongi with a small gift.

“Thanks for making my first Soul Link a successful one,” the sparkling fairy drops the gift box into your palms.

“Thank you for watching over Y/N until I came along,” Yoongi shakes the fairy’s hand.

“I’m going to miss you sitting at the coffee shop, Jimin,” you shake the fairy’s other hand. “But thank you for being the one fairy who believed this could happen.”

“Us fairies are incapable of experiencing love ourselves, so a lot of us end up feeling quite skeptical. But I’m thankful that I got to witness it between you two. It was truly my pleasure, Y/N, Yoongi,” Jimin waves farewell with a smile as the sparkles whirl around you and Yoongi once more. “Good luck.”

Transported back to your apartment bedroom, the first thing you do is lean your head on Yoongi’s shoulder. Because it just feels right.

“Finally,” Yoongi chuckles.

“Finally we’re free of those fairies?” you attempt to finish your soulmate’s statement. You look up at him for confirmation, but he shakes his head.

“Finally I have you all to myself—no fairies, no tattoos. Just you and me.” His words make your heart flutter as he gives you a healthy squeeze at your waist.

And then you remember the gift box given to you by Jimin. Together, you lift the lid off and uncover a note and a black fountain pen.

The note reads: 

“Y/N and Yoongi, congratulations again! Since you guys never received an evaluation card from me, here it is. 

At first glance, the two of you may seem like polar opposites who would never see eye to eye, but it was a perfect fit all along. Yoongi, you needed someone to bring out your soft caring side, someone you would always treasure. Y/N, you needed someone to bring you out of your comfort zone, someone who’d left a mark on you. 

I might’ve set up the situation and snuck into your homes in the middle of the night to ink your ribs with each other’s names, but always remember that love doesn’t just blossom out of a situation. 

Love blossoms from what you make of the situation—bonds, memories, experiences. That’s exactly what the two of you have done, and I hope you continue to do so for a long time! Score: 10/10 of course!! 

With love, Jimin

P.S. The pen is the same one I tattooed you guys with, but I promise it’s out of ink now! So you can be assured that there won’t be anymore fairy shenanigans. The rest is up to you guys~!”

You smile at the note before setting it aside to pick up the pen. You twirl it around in your soulmate’s face. “It’s a shame there’s no ink in this. What if I wanted another tattoo with your name?”

“Haha, very funny,” Yoongi smirks. “Why would you want a tattoo when you could have something even more permanent?”

“Something more permanent than a tattoo?” He could only be talking about a handful of things, but you’re pretty sure you know which one it is. You hand off the pen to the boy and start playing with the ring he’d given you a while back. “Love?”

“Love.”

[gprado34-blog]

MIMQ RATING

To The Bone

To The Bone tells the story of Ellen, a 20 year old woman struggling with Anorexia Nervosa. The film follows her journey after being kicked out of treatment for refusal to cooperate. We meet her family and are shown many possible things that may have attributed to her developing an eating disorder, from her absent father to her mother who seems to have given up on her, to the death of a young girl which she feels responsible for. She is put in the path of Dr. Beckham, a Doctor whose unconventional methods for eating disorder recovery are her last resort. As she moves through her journey, we watch her interact with the people in Dr. Bechkam’s inpatient and with her family. The film ends with her returning to the treatment center of her own accord, embracing recovery after leaving abruptly.

Authentic:

Criteria:

The film never explicitly says that Ellen has Anorexia Nervosa, however, based on her symptoms, rituals and habits she exhibits and clues from the other characters of the movie, she fits an accurate depiction of a sufferer of the disease. When deciding my Authenticity rating for the film, I will look at Ellen, and analyze whether her symptoms shown are conducive with a factual depiction of Anorexia Nervosa, or if it promotes any myths or misunderstandings.

Facts:

Anorexia Nervosa is a mental illness that is characterized by restricting or abstaining from eating, having a BMI that is extremely low, being malnourished or underweight, obsession with food- including rituals when eating such as cutting food into small pieces, controlling what exactly is eaten, calorie counting and distorted body image.  

A person suffering with Anorexia Nervosa may have trouble being around food, strange habits or rituals when around food, denies being hungry, and will usually exercise compulsively to burn off any calories consumed, however small. Physical symptoms include but are not limited to Lanugo, which is comorbid with Anorexia because it is the bodies way of attempting to keep itself warm by growing hair, from an excessive loss of body fat. A woman with Anorexia will usually lose her period. Dizziness, feeling cold constantly, and dressing in layers to hide weight loss or stay warm are also signs.

When the illness progresses to severe points, many patients have a tube inserted through the nasal cavity to introduce calories into the system (usually not by choice). Continuing on, hallucinations from malnutrition may occur, fainting and eventually, when it has continued to a fatal point, usually causes an electrolyte imbalance and cardiac arrest.

Examples from the Movie:

From the very first 5 minutes of the film we get our first look into Ellen’s brain and her obsession with food. She is leaving a treatment center and as she is driving by in a taxi, if you watch closely, she notices a grocery store and Taco Bell, and becomes visibly uncomfortable. At the dinner table, her sister plays a game of “guessing calories” with her and she gets all of the calories of the food on her plate correctly. She exhibits other symptoms such as body checks (when she holds her arm with her fingers to see how big her arms are) and constant exercise in the form of sit-ups on the floor, which gives her bruises. The scene in the bathroom with her stepmother shows that she is clearly underweight and malnourished, you are shown her almost bare body which is thin to an extreme. When we see her around food, she picks at it and cuts it into tiny pieces, moves it around with her fork, or takes miniscule bites- to give the appearance that she is eating without actually eating.

When she is examined by Dr. Beckham, he asks when her last menstrual period was- she doesn’t remember, it was a “long time ago”. He also points out the Lanugo she has, which is a condition in malnourished people wherein their bodies grow hair to keep them warm. She also wears multiple layers and sweaters, to keep herself warm. In the treatment home, we hear Luke and Pearl use the word “rexies” a slang term for Anorexia, which is an actual mention and acknowledgement of the Eating Disorder. She mentions being “tubed” a few times, and then at another point when asked about purging she responds that it was never “her thing” which leads the audience to conclude that based on all of these symptoms, rituals and clues she suffers from Anorexia Nervosa.

Analysis of Examples:

All of the symptoms and signs listed for an individual with Anorexia Nervosa are vast and vary from person to person. However, Ellen displayed a wide variety of them and although it is never expressly said that she is Anorexic, we know based on the facts that she does exhibit these signs and symptoms and it can be concluded from this and the absence of purging or binging that she has Anorexia Nervosa, and not Bulimia Nervosa or Binge Eating Disorder, as those are characterized with different, but sometimes similar symptoms.

I feel that the actual diagnosis should have been mentioned at least once for the audience. I know many people do not know the differences between the Eating Disorders classified in the DSM-V.

I feel that the portrayal of Anorexia Nervosa through Ellen was very accurate. I didn’t see any of it that was dramatized. They tried to cover many of the symptoms to make it clear to the audience what she was struggling with- even the unappealing parts such as mentioning the Lanugo and her loss of her menstrual period. They showed a clear image of her body, which was emaciated to show that she was extremely underweight. Her rituals and obsession with food were sometimes subtle, but there and noticeable. She had bruises from constant sit-ups and was shown wanting to exercise in the form of walking or wanting to run whenever she could. Overall based on the facts about Anorexia and the specific things we saw Ellen do and go through, I would give this film a “Strongly Agree” about their authenticity, with a dark green heart.

Attractive:

Criteria:

The things I will be focusing on when rating Ellen’s attractiveness to the audience are her attitude towards others, especially in treatment and towards her family and her physical appearance. I will talk about her physical appearance only because many people in the audience will view it as one of the most important things in the film, considering the subject matter.

Examples from the Film:

Firstly, Ellen’s attitude towards others changes throughout the film, but she is abrasive, distant and even sometimes mean as we follow her journey. Our first introduction to her character involves her belittling a patient in her treatment center by responding to her share with “Society’s to blame. The World is so Unfair. I have to Die.” in a sarcastic, exasperated tone. She then holds up a sign that says “Suck My Skinny Balls.” That is our first encounter with her. She seems to be, at a glance, closed off, but when we see her interact with her sister we see a softer side of her that shows vulnerability. Her asking about her father’s absence also hints at an inner child that wants and craves love from her parents. The ice really begins to melt when she meets Luke and he works his way through her tough exterior. Then, during her family therapy she seems like a little kid, quietly sitting and almost dissociating from the moment as her “moms” argue around her. She has a complex personality. She has moments, such as when Luke is trying to get her to eat a candy bar where she snaps and is cruel, and the viewer might assume that she is a mean person. We then see the shadows of a different Ellen when they go on a non-date to a Chinese restaurant, laughing and joking with him as he gets them beers pretending they are cancer patients. She decides to change her name to Eli to mark the start of a new her.  By the end of the film, she embraces her sister and stepmother (who she seemed not to like very much) and we see her walk into treatment looking lighter and transformed.

Ellen is classically beautiful, but she is clearly underweight and is shown in the  opening of the film in baggy, dark clothes, with boots and smoking a cigarette. I think the film is trying to show this to make the point that Anorexia isn’t about being “attractive” or “thin” and “pretty”. She is shown in her underwear in the bathroom with her stepmother and we see how malnourished her body is. She is extremely underweight. At the end of the film, as her disease progresses, her face gets more and more gaunt, her eyes become dark and lifeless and her lips become dry and cracked.

Analysis of Examples:

I don’t believe the film wanted to make Ellen very attractive to the audience. They wanted to show the “ugly” side of Anorexia. She was just attractive enough to draw people in, based on her personality and the likeable parts of it- her interactions with her half-sister, her relationship with Luke, her childlike innocence with her mother, and her penchant and talent for artwork. Her clothing made her look “cute” and she is a pretty girl, as is very apparent when we see “healthy” Ellen in her hallucination. The end of the film brings her full circle and the audience sees her as she is, a young adult who wants to get better and is connecting with her family and with people after her epiphany. She also, however, had an ugly side in which she could be sarcastic, biting, cruel and withdrawn. When we see her body fully, it is not “attractive”. Her stepmother even asks her, rhetorically, “Do you think that’s beautiful?” And it isn’t- it looks sickly, which is a truth that is hard to swallow and look at. Because these two contrasts are so stark to each other, I will give the Attractiveness rating of the film a neutral “Neither Agree nor Disagree” white heart.

Friendly:

Criteria:

The criteria I will focus on here will exclusively look at Ellen’s family, her stepmother, mother,  father and half-sister. I will look to see if they are supportive of her recovery, and if their support came across in a constructive and helpful way, instead of a damaging or guilt inducing way, which is unintentional sometimes but harmful nonetheless.

Examples from the Movie:

Ellen’s half-sister is absolutely the most supportive of her, followed (strangely) by her bumbling and somewhat catty but well meaning step mother. Her father and mother are absent and when we do hear about them, Ellen’s mom is in Phoenix with her new wife and her father is nowhere to be found. In the film, we never see Ellen’s father. He doesn’t come to the group session, or to dinner. Ellen never interacts with him. Her stepmother, Susan, is critical but also through her actions and certain moments in the film shows that she cares about Ellen. She gets her a “hamburger” cake that although was a horrible idea, it was well meaning. She takes a picture of her in the bathroom as well and unintentionally shames her. She tries again to get her into treatment, and although she is annoying and pushy, she is trying to help her genuinely. WHen she is embraced by Ellen at the end of the film, her shock and happiness are shown so clearly you see that she loves her. Kelly is loving. They share moments like on the hill when she shows her her butterfly tattoo, and when she asks her, in a quiet moment of desperation at the dinner table, “will you please try this time?” In therapy, she admits the pain she feels at having her life taken over by Ellen’s illness and although her feelings are valid, she says that her friends view Ellen as a “freak who killed a girl” and also says at one point that she “doesnt get it… like just eat.” which are both very unhelpful. Ellen’s biological mother, Judy, is revealed to have had bipolar manic breakdowns, and left Ellen’s father for her best friend, Olive. They reject taking Ellen back in with them, stating that they are too tired to help her and they cant take her “right now”. In the end, when Ellen ends up back with her mother and the infamous “rice milk” scene happens- where Judy states that it might be her fault because of PPD that Ellen has issues with eating. She feeds 20 year old Ellen rice milk, holding her like a baby in a hut outside. It is both uncomfortable and a nod to extremists who believe that all things can be cured through spirituality and weird pseudo-therapies.

Analysis of Examples:

I try to look at this from the perspective of the audience and not someone with a family that very closely resembles some parts of Ellen’s family. Her father is clearly uninvolved- the reason doesn’t really matter. Him not being there is enough to show that she doesn’t have his support. Her sister Kelly clearly loves and supports her but is shown to be tired of dealing with the illness her sister has- which I understand, but the audience may take it another way. This film speaks differently to people who have had or love someone who has had an Eating Disorder. Kelly is mostly loving though and I do take her age into account, I believe in the therapy session when she finally vented to Dr. Beckham maybe it was the first time anyone had asked her how she felt. All in All, Kelly was loving and supportive of Ellen. Susan, although she could come off as ditzy and overbearing, was the one doing the most out of anyone to make sure Ellen could get treatment. She was genuinely happy when Ellen gave her a hug at the end of the movie. I feel she was also very supportive and loving, but also had a side of her that did not understand Eating Disorders and so she made a lot of mistakes, like taking a picture of her in the bathroom, etc. I think Judy is too wrapped up in herself and her own life(shown when Ellen takes a look at her Facebook) to really be the type of mother she should be to Ellen. At least based on what is shown in the film, I don’t know what happened before. The rice milk scene was just gross and unhelpful, and at the dinner table when Olive and Judy are talking about Dr. Beckham having a “god complex” and talking badly about Susan it was clear that they had a somewhat self centered nature. Based on Kelly and Susan supporting (even though at times it wasn’t the best) and never giving up on her, even going to treatment to find her when she left, and being there to embrace her when she got back, to dropping her off at treatment again, I feel that the friendliness in the film deserves a light green heart or an Agree. I think that her stepmother and Kelly’s love and support of Ellen brings the film from a neutral rating to an “Agree” rating.

Hopeful:

Criteria:

What I will focus on when determining whether the film showed a hopeful ending for the audience is based on whether the film ended on a note that showed a positive outcome or transitional experience for Ellen.

Examples from the Movie:

After her epiphany moment in the desert, wherein Ellen sits on a tree with Luke looking luminous and healthy, she looks down to see her grey, emaciated corpse on the ground and is shocked, asking “is that me?” She swallows a piece of coal Luke gives her, that is supposed to represent her courage. We see her awake in the desert, lips dry and cracked, severely underweight and looking much differently than the Ellen we were first introduced to. She checks her pulse, laughs, gets up and walks out of the desert, and seemingly straight into the yard and arms of her sister and stepmother. She hugs her tightly, whispering “Im gonna be okay.” into her ear.  We then see her returning to Dr. Beckhams treatment of her own volition, looking lighter, even dressed differently,in white and a light sweater, with her hair pulled up and a smile on her face as she greets the other house members. She hit rock bottom, got up and decided she wanted to live.

Analysis of Examples:

The ending being her returning to treatment after her epiphany in the desert is a very hopeful ending. She experienced near death, survived, and her first move was to walk away from the desert, and straight into the arms of the two people who supported her most in the film, Susan and Kelly. Then back to treatment. Her smile and a sense of peace as she said that she was going to be okay indicates to the audience that she is serious about her treatment this time, and that there is a huge chance she will recover. I give the Hopeful part of the film a solid green heart as a rating.

Helpful:

Criteria:

I believe the most important criteria to determine if the mental health professionals in this film were portrayed as helpful to the audience is to see if the way they treated Ellen’s Eating Disorder was in a way that was specific to her problem, ethical, responsible, professional and effective.

Facts:

People suffering with Eating Disorders generally have trouble opening up about their problem and trusting people to help them recover. It is natural for them to resist getting better. They need a therapist or doctor who can guide them gently and with patience.  Eating Disorders are severe illnesses that are often fatal, they have the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric illness. Specifically, Anorexia Nervosa.

A mental health professional should always behave professionally and ethically. One of the first rules in regards to being in the medical profession is “first, do no harm.” Mental Health professionals must be sensitive to the individual needs of each patient, and have a manner about them that helps to take people who are in a vulnerable state, in the throes of mental illness, and guide them to a place where they are able to get better. They should conduct themselves professionally and in a manner that creates clear boundaries between themselves and their patients. Creating too much of an air of familiarity breeds problems such as projection of emotions or co-dependency.

There are several forms of treatment that are extremely effective for treating Eating Disorders, specifically Anorexia Nervosa. These include but are not limited to ACT, DBT, CBT, CRT and Family Based treatment. It is important to note that Family Based Treatment, in which families are taught to be support systems for the individual suffering from an Eating Disorder, and are shown how to be sensitive and help them recover has merit to it. This method of treatment is also known as the Maudsley method. It is very important, even in cases where the individual is not using FBT as their treatment, that their family and support system be educated and involved as much as is necessary to ensure that a patient in treatment be successful when they leave.

Examples from the Movie:

Dr. Beckham was supposed to be portrayed, I think, as that “tough love” doctor, almost akin to Robin Williams portrayal of Dr. Sean McGuire but a little less intense. Beckham tells Ellen in their first meeting- when she says she doesn’t need more inpatient- that if she doesn’t agree to it then she “needs to find another doctor.” He tells her he “sees kids like her everyday, and as a rule they are usually full of shit”. He uses profanity a lot, from the very first time they meet. While I personally don’t have a problem with it, he doesn’t yet know his patients to see what makes them comfortable. He even curses during the family therapy scene. I feel that he sits back and lets chaos unfold but doesn’t lead the narrative or do what he should as a health professional to ensure that the conversation stays productive and on topic. After that, he completely writes off family therapy. He also seems to not be very present during Ellen’s recovery, or at least not as present as I imagine a mental health professional with a recovery home should be. When Susan and Kelly go to him, concerned because she left treatment, then he tells them that it is important for her to “hit bottom” in order to recover. He is never shown doing any particularly important work- only short snippets in which he talks to Ellen about changing her name, or in their last session when he really works the “tough love” angle and also seems to encourage a relationship between Ellen and Luke stating “what happened with you [two]? Seemed like you had a good thing going. He then calls her “childish and cowardly” for wanting to be reassured, and gives a very movie- ish speech about the uncertainty of life that even gave me anxiety. He tells her to stop waiting for someone to save her, after she tells him that he’s supposed to teach her how to live healthily. Ellen leaves in a hurry, and leaves treatment.

Analysis of Examples:

Dr. Beckham’s rough exterior and initial dismissive nature in his first meeting with Ellen may have made for an edgy attention grabbing Doctor type for the film, but is extremely misleading for the audience. A person in a place as vulnerable as Ellen would probably have left and not went to seek help again. Being dismissed that way is not ethical or professional. There were many ways he could have handled that first meeting when she said she didn’t need inpatient that weren’t as rude. If a Doctor told me I was full of shit, I would report them. That isn’t just unethical, its unprofessional and dangerous to gamble with someone’s mental health by speaking to them in a way that can come off as aggressive or uncaring. If a Doctor is working in the mental health field, I believe they should conduct themselves under the saying of “Doing No Harm.”

His complete dismissal of her family as a “shit-show” is extremely damaging. Families can be very beneficial to treatment, if taught with patience the proper way to support their loved one. If he were unable to get them to cooperate, that would be one thing, but writing the, off after one group session in which he sat back and let women that had previous issues bicker, instead of leading the conversation somewhere it could have benefitted Ellen more than traumatized her again, it may have worked. He needed more time with her family before completely throwing away the idea that they could help her.

The film didn’t place enough emphasis on the support of a mental health professional in recovery.  Dr. Beckham was not very present, in fact we only see him 6 times in the film for a total of 17 minutes. It seems that he wasn’t involved enough, from what the audience is shown. At one point, he asks Ellen about her relationship with Luke and it seems like he’s encouraging it which I think is very unethical considering they are both in his treatment center and mental health professional should not be giving opinions about the personal lives of his clients in that way, as it can be very triggering for them. The last session he has with Ellen, where she is very clearly getting sicker and in a vulnerable place, he pushes her to the point where she leaves treatment by almost provoking a panic attack and not giving her any reassurance or guidance when she clearly needs it, even asking for it. It may have made for a “good” movie moment but it was extremely misleading to the audience to believe that this was a proper way of treating a patient. All in All I would give Dr. Beckham a grey heart for “Disagree” because while I don’t think he was intentionally trying to harm Ellen, he behaved in a way that was NOT helpful.

References

National Alliance on Mental Illness(n.d.) Eating Disorders; symptoms, diagnosis, causes and treatment. Retrieved from:

https://www.nami.org/learn-more/mental-health-conditions/eating-disorders

National Alliance on Mental Illness (January 2013) Anorexia Nervosa Fact Sheet. Retrieved from: https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/d140/e26781f10daaf5ff40f46b416fbc6159d03a.pdf

National Eating Disorders Association (n.d). Anorexia. Retrieved from: https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/learn/by-eating-disorder/anorexia

Cleveland Clinic(June 27, 2019). Anorexia Nervosa: Management and Treatment. Retrieved from: https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/9794-anorexia-nervosa/management-and-treatment

National Eating Disorders Association (n.d). Types of Treatment. Retrieved from: https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/types-treatment

Beresin, Eugene. (July 21, 2017). Two Psychiatrists Weigh in on Netflix’s To The Bone. Retrieved from: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/inside-out-outside-in/201707/two-psychiatrists-weigh-in-netflix-s-the-bone

[ninadove]

Why did Kagami seemed annoyed at Adrien acting silly, but seems fine with Felix?

I think it was never really about Adrien being silly, per say! The cousins’ antics are a microcosm or everything that went wrong, then oh-so-right in their respective relationships with Kagami, and her drastically different reactions are a testament to how she feels about them both.

We’re shown throughout Lies that Adrien is constantly forced to hide things from Kagami and abandon her in the middle of their dates. It’s not his fault, of course, but Chat Noir systematically takes precedence over their relationship and she understandably feels neglected.

On top of that, she knows there was someone before her. She wants Adrien to pick her over his secret crush for Ladybug, but it’s becoming increasingly clear to her that she’s always going to be second best.

It all comes to a head in the sketching scene.

Ever since their introductions, Kagami and Luka have heavily paralleled each other, and these similarities are at an all-time high in Truth and Lies. It stands to reason that art is to Kagami what "inner melodies" are to Luka: a way to access people’s souls, and understand who they truly are.

(More on this here, but BE WARNED: the post contains spoilers for the finale!)

The problem is that Kagami cannot seem to capture Adrien’s essence through her sketches. She’s been conditioned to fall for this perfect, but inauthentic image of him, and when she tries to put it on paper it simply Does Not Work. That’s just not who he is.

When she points it out, Adrien tries something a lot more Chat Noir-like, which could have been this very nice moment of vulnerability between them. But it is so radically different from what Kagami thinks she wants that she snaps. She forces him into a pose that reflects what she believes her partner should be like — only to widen the distance between them.

MEANWHILE FELIX

This boy, I swear to God Edelgard. I could talk about him for hours on end.

Let’s get it out of the way: Felix is a liar. Everything he’s done up until Emotion has been to manipulate others in order to achieve his own goals, and he’s done such a brilliant job of it that a huge part of the fandom still refuses to trust him to this day.

But the thing is, Felix does not want to lie and isolate himself from the rest of the world. Like many abuse survivors, he was forced into it in order to preserve his own safety, and it’s preventing him for forging and maintaining the connections he so desperately craves.

Felix cannot stop lying until he feels safe.

So logically, the Diamonds’ Dance is the last place you’d expect him to drop the mask. He’s surrounded by his enemies and just about to put his masterplan into action — surely he can’t afford to be vulnerable now, can he?

Yet he realises that this (extremely pretty) girl he had already noticed at another of Gabriel’s Awful Terrible No Good parties is facing the exact same challenges he is, and has been hurt in the exact same ways he was. So he lets himself be open with her, and when he does, he learns something terrible and magical: she is consumed by jealousy, just like his father was, but she refuses to let it harm the people she loves.

This is something different, something he’s never seen in anyone before, and from this moment on he feels safe enough to tell her everything. Pretention puts so much emphasis on how desperate he is to have someone to confide in about their shared struggles. It’s fitting that Kagami, who hates lies (or more exactly, being lied to), would fall for the character who immediately spills his entire heart out to her and her alone.

And of course, he makes her a priority, always. He loves her enough to give up the fight of his life and to reach out to Ladybug, even though he still doesn’t trust her. Kagami was always Adrien’s second choice; but she is Felix’s everything.

It all culminates in the play they perform together in Representation, much like Adrigami’s relationship was summed up in the sketching scene. Felix is finally dropping the mask (literally and figuratively) and revealing who he is to the world — a version of himself Kagami has not only accepted, but fallen in love with. So it’s only natural that she helps him tell his story in a way that makes him feel safe, silly as it may seem.

These two, I swear. They’re so beautiful.

[borderline-vent]

So I know this is a vent blog but honestly like

I'm really grateful to my fp for helping me learn how to handle not only my bpd, but my other personality disorders, too. Whether it's avpd or avpd traits is a little up in the air w my therapist right now- at this point the list is kind of long and we're focusing on managing symptoms rather than what precise label goes where - but npd is a definite. When I met my fp I was mostly just questioning npd traits; I realized as I learned more about it and talked more to my therapist that I have, like, The Whole Thing. You know how it goes.

I'm determined not to be my mother who I suspect has bpd and npd traits -probably not the whole disorder, but some of our thought patterns and perceptions have been pretty similar in that regard -and kind of ruins everyone's life she touches, including mine. She's badly fucked her own self over, her husband I really don't think she abuses but he also seems uninvolved in some pretty significant ways; he just kind of let her do whatever she wanted to us, believed her over us, and she hides some of her worst abuse from him- like hitting me with a hanger, and choking my sibling and throwing them to the floor to scream at them and not letting us tell him what happened. She's also just manipulative and controlling and blames everyone else for her negative feelings and anything that goes wrong, even (especially) when it's her fault (sort of how her throwing me into a wall as a teenager was my fault somehow... lol). So that's oart of my motivation to work hard with therapy and learn to manage all this stuff, but really put some focus into managing my narcissism. It's not going to benefit me, or anybody else, if I'm unselfaware and I just treat people like shit all the time -which I don't, but I don't ever want to, and there are always places I can improce as a person.

It's hard to be honest and fucking excruciating to be vulnerable. I have a huge ego and a massive rift in self-esteem, I can't confront shame (so I use other mechanisms to motivate me to adjust problematic behavior) and I'm incapable of self-compassion, which apparently is essential for healing your inner child or something. I guess my inner child is just going to have to stay broken, but I can work on other things.

Fp has aspd and npd, which I think I've mentioned here before; and he's conscientious enough and makes me feel comfortable enough to talk to him about new things in my life, even things that make me feel vulnerable. We don't have all the same symptoms of course, but we share several, and he's got a lot of experience learning how to manage comorbid personality disorders, and when I'm really struggling he's extremely helpful in clearing my perception- and often he's the only person I feel comfortable enough to talk to about it, given that childhood abuse gave me such trouble with trust. I've known him for nearly 2 years now, and he's only ever demonstrated more commitment to treating me well, and so I trust him. I mean, I don't /really/ trust anybody. But I trust him more than anyone else, and he's made me feel more comfortable being secure and he's never been malicious or gaslit me or been cruel to me or put me down or any of the shit some other people have done.

I've also learned a lot about how dysfunctional my family is- for instance, defensiveness to the point of making an ass of yourself instead of correcting your mistakes, seems to be a family trait. Stuff like that is pretty frustating, given I'm (still) too sick to work and I have to live with them (but with therapy and a purse full of medicine I'm getting there). I isolate here a lot, because communication breaks down so easily, and then I get frustrated, and I don't want to snap at people and I want to try to identify what I could do to smooth interactions; and some things I'm oversensitive to because they remind me of my abusive mother (but apparently I'm not allowed to say "hey please don't do this because I have a history with it happening to me in greater degree and it's bad" because then I get accused of comparing people to my mother... anyway I spend a lot of time by myself.

Recently I've been deep in a ptsd swing because an alter got a (shiny!new!) flashback to our csa and so we had a bad couple of weeks tbh but it seems like that's smoothing out now. I haven't had a flashback or a panic attack in a couple of days and the nightmares are better too.

And I've realized that a lot of what I was so worried about before -a lot of what I yelled about on this blog actually- was just... not all an inaccurate perception on my part, but that I noticed changes in communication with fp and reacted to them in a characteristically borderline way. I correctly registered that he seemed more withdrawn, was less warm, etc. And when we talked about it, he told me he still liked me just as much as ever, but he was depressed, like we'd been talking about, and he had less energy and he just hadn't been expressing it the way he had when he'd felt better. And that's something I'm familiar with, because it's super common with depression and I've withdrawn like that, too.

He told me this friendship, and his being my fp, is important to him and he wants to maintain it, and he was glad I shared my feelings with him, because he wants to know if there's a issue. I told him that while I didn't want to make him feel taxed while he's depressed (or at all), more expression would ameliorate my anxiety and make me feel more secure. He didn't blame me for feeling the way I did, didn't try to make it my fault (it wasn't anyone's fault; I have my symptoms and he has his and we communicate out limitations and work on issues together) just told me he appreciated me, my friendship, and my communicating with him, and he'd adjust his behavior to help remind me I was liked and valued. And he has, and his depression has gotten better with meds, and I feel better (and the fact he was so receptive and so willing to put in the effort also made me feel better) and he's helped me as I've been stressed over family drama (my mother having some drama with other family members- I need to figure out somehow who's telling the truth but it's gonna be uhhh stressful) and over the new piece of trauma we remembered (not good) and the worsening of ptsd symptoms.

I feel stable in our friendship, and have done for several weeks now, and that's been the defining trend of our friendship over two years. It's fucking hard for me to feel stable or secure in friendships, especially with fps and especially when I have strong romantic feelings for them, but he puts in a lot of effort to help me feel that way, /and to help me improve my baseline ability to feel that way./

Our friendship is predicated in many ways on what's most useful; for instance, it's beneficial to him to put in that effort because I feel better, and so there's less maintenance work he needs to do. That's not a drawback; we genuinely like each other and enjoy one another's company, and help each other a lot, and while it's not an empathetic friendship from his side, it's a kind ans supportive one, a safe one, a sheltering one, a comfortable and profoundly important one. It's the strongest and healthiest relationship I've ever had, and it's done as much or maybe even more than therapy has to get me through struggling times and improve the way I feel about myself and other people.

This is a long fucking post right now but like. I'm really grateful for this man. I always have been. I have strong emotional reactions to real or percieved abandonment, and I see it everywhere, but he never tries to make me feel bad for it, just helps me feel better. I yell a lot on this blog but there's a reason I haven't really posted here in a while (and other things go wrong elsewhere but I usually post about that on my other blog. That's where my ptsd and family vents went.) I have an as-soon-as-possible goal to get myself well enough to work, and save enough money to move so that I can live where he lives. I'll finally be away from toxic family (telecontact, I'm sure, but still a meaningful distance) and regularly able to see the most important person in my life, and I think that has a lot of potential to help with my mental health.

[holden-norgorov]

S01E01: Limbic Resonance.

Kalagang analyses per episode.

In the first episode of the show, we don’t get to see Wolfgang and Kala interacting yet, but we still gain a huge amount of details regarding their psychology and a pretty solid foundation for their character arcs. These retrospective, episode-by-episode analyses will not be only focused on their connection, but also on the individual transformation and path that both of them will face and overcome thanks to it. Full episode analysis is under the cut.

First of all, I want to begin with a bit of an introduction 1. by analyzing their names, the meaning behind them and what they suggest about the characters and 2. by pointing out their bond with water and what it represents to them.

Wolfgang: traditional German name made up of the words “wolf” (wolf) and “gang” (path, journey). It can be linked to the meaning “advancing at a stealthy pace” and to the image of a lone wolf preparing to storm into battle. Superficially, it refers to the closed, introverted nature of the character and the violent and dangerous environment he grew up in, which always forced him to conduct a solitary lifestyle. The “journey” he has to face is to learn how to have faith in himself and then open up and rely on others thanks to that. Kala is symbolically fundamental in making him understand that it’s not true that he “doesn’t need anyone” (2x05) and that he is unworthy of being loved. On a deeper level, though, it’s interesting to notice that the animal of the wolf has always been deeply misunderstood in cultural mythologies and depicted as a feral predator because of fear and superstitions, while in the totem tradition it actually symbolically embodies the traits of cordiality and generosity. This duality speaks also about the character very precisely: Wolfgang always gets easily judged solely regarding his external, apparent brutality, whereas his vulnerable and selfless inner nature always ends up being ignored or not acknowledged at all. Except for Kala, who can clearly see that he has “something good and beautiful” hidden inside of him that always becomes evident when they are together (2x01).

Kala: traditional Hindi name that possesses three different layers of interpretation fitting with the nature of the character. Its first meaning is “fine arts, lady, princess” and it obviously refers to the superficial display of Kala’s behavior and how she is commonly perceived by others. She has been taught her all life to behave nicely and pleasantly in order to evolve in a fine and proper Indian woman, even though this cultural indoctrination doesn’t provide her any happiness and undermines her self-worth. She constantly has to hide her true nature and conduct a life of fakeness by constructing the untrue image of an apparently perfect and socially-praiseworthy lady. “Fine arts” also gives the idea of her role in Wolfgang’s growth and gain of self-awareness: she becomes his emotional Muse. This concept is linked with the second meaning of her name: “sunlight”. Kala is often shown to be fundamental in restoring Wolfgang’s hope and appreciation for life. She enlightens his perspective and provides new colors and shades to his obscure and frightening world. In many occasions we can see her actively bringing him into the light, both physically (2x06; 2x10) and metaphorically (1x07). This lighthearted nature of her contrasts with what we learn with the third meaning, which is “dark blue, black”. Deep down, Kala doesn’t see herself as the kind of woman she pretends to be in public and has “something dark and wicked” hidden inside of her that can be freely and comfortably exposed only with Wolfgang (2x01).

Both Wolfgang and Kala also share a deep connection with water since their first breath. Water constantly brings them together. And since this trait of their connection is always present in their bond and recurring in many of their scenes in both seasons, I thought about giving a general explanation of what this element means to them at the very beginning of these analyses (so here) and then pointing out references every time water is involved in the future. This should save time and prevent unneeded repetitions from happening.

Water perfectly encapsulate the dualistic nature of their characters. It’s a transformative element that can be both clean, pure and soothing and dirty, destructive and devastating at the same time. It mirrors Kala and Wolfgang’s inner and outer personalities and reflects the contrast of “light” (limpidity: Kala’s outer and Wolfgang’s inner selves) and “dark” (turbidity: Kala’s inner and Wolfgang’s outer selves) that aesthetically and metaphorically concerns them throughout both seasons.

Water washes out the fake constructions and imperfections and reveals the true nature of things. It’s the source of a purification and healing process. Both Kala and Wolfgang are able to evoke their true essences only around each other; by triggering their connections, water symbolically leaves them naked of all their walls (cultural ones for Kala and emotional ones for Wolfgang) and destroys those fences with an uncontrolled flow. Water lets them create an intimate, genuine bond by connecting them while purified and exposed. It testifies the clean and transparent nature of their relationship.

Water is religiously associated to the gain of knowledge and wisdom. Both Kala and Wolfgang need each other in order to reach a new level of self-awareness because each of them provides the other of what they are lacking to evolve as people and characters. On many occasions they are shown to be thirsty of each other’s presence and of its empowering and enriching effect on them.

Water in many traditions symbolizes the moon. Both the water and the moon share a double face (always one side of the moon is illuminated and the other one is obscured). This is also interesting because the moon doesn’t have her own source of light but reflects the sun’s one. Which means that: the sun provides light to one side of the moon, and that side of the moon is the one that is traditionally believed to attract the howls of the wolves. The moon (water) acts as a mediator between the “sunlight” (Kala) and the howling “wolf” (Wolfgang) who develops a deep attraction to its bright side.

Water is also connected to fluidity and sexuality. This is very clear in a lot of interactions between Wolfgang and Kala where water is present in the form of sweat, snow or rain. They visit each other in the most intimate places and moments. They were both birthed in a water-filled environment and finally joined their bodies together in the same way. Also, as water, being a malleable element, can be prevented from flowing freely and be imprisoned by banks or canals, in the same way sexuality can be restrained by the nature of self or channeled in a precise direction. Kala’s demisexual nature provided a metaphorical drain through which water (sexual attraction) could be channeled towards Wolfgang only thanks to their connection.

Water grants eventually the access to a deep and mysterious underworld. The unknown and unconquerable nature of the ocean resembles Wolfgang and Kala’s impossibility of legitimately acting on their love. Their feelings are denied exposure and are conceived as a secret to be hidden in the abyss; their connection goes very deep and the more it escapes the surface, the more powerful and overwhelming it becomes, just as marine currents. 

All that said, let’s finally dive into the episode (no pun intended).

We are firstly introduced to Kala when she is at her father’s restaurant. She briefly connects with Wolfgang and experiences thunder and rain. Their affinity to water is already established in this moment and will keep coming back in a lot of episodes. In Kala’s case, the actual external storm coming from Wolfgang’s sensations mirrors her internal struggle and unfavorable feelings regarding marrying a man she doesn’t love. Since, even if we don’t know that yet, she already unwillingly accepted Rajan’s hand, that storm becomes a metaphor for her emotional turmoil and the fear of letting her parents down on her hesitancy. So, Wolfgang’s physical rainy environment is symbolically conceived to have a deep access to Kala’s interiority and provide an accurate representation of her concealed, real thoughts about the marriage. From the very first moment, their connection is already intimate and self-revealing.

In this scene it’s also already clear that Kala loves her father so much that, in order for him to be really happy (since it’s clarified that this union to him is more satisfying and important than her work and studies), she’s willing to sacrifice her own happiness and keep this as a secret to him. This gesture creates a complicated dynamic in their relationship that will persist for all the two seasons. Kala behaves as it is expected from a “fine” Indian girl; by fulfilling a duty she doesn’t really desire just to provide happiness and pride to her family, she basically condemns herself to conduct a future life where her relationship with her parents will only be based on lies and dishonesty. This is why she ultimately finds comfort in visiting the Ganesha temple, because in this moment the Indian god is “the only one she can talk to”. This will be replaced in S2, where Kala won’t be able to access to the temple anymore and this role will be definitely taken by Wolfgang, “the only person she ever felt she could say anything to” (2x04). Kala’s fate, by accepting this unwanted marriage, is living a life where she constantly has to lie to everyone she physically knows. Wolfgang’s future sensate presence in her intimacy will be the only thing able to give her stability and the opportunity to give vent to her real feelings and free her real self from the chains of cultural indoctrination. In this moment, though, all she feels is that she is trapped and overtaken by both an actual and metaphorical storm.

In the next scene, we are introduced to Wolfgang, who is in the middle of a downpour. The funeral moment already highlights the contrasting essence of his bond with Kala. While she is willing to commit herself to huge sacrifices in order to ensure her dad’s happiness, he is shown to have had a horrible relationship with his own father, to the point that he has a pee on his grave. The look on his face in that moment is one of determination, fulfilment and challenge. What’s important to understand about Wolfgang is that he is living a kind of lifestyle he didn’t choose for himself. He needs to find a purpose capable of making him feel worthy and important, because he has been treated badly his entire life and therefore thinks he doesn’t deserve anything. He’s lost and trapped in a directionless and self-undermining life environment he can’t gain any happiness and satisfaction from. Kala will be the one finally providing him a purpose and a reason to truly appreciate life (this is why he will always treat her like the most important thing in the world, because to him she really is). But for now, the only thing he can do to prove himself that he has value and is not worthless is mastering what his father wasn’t able to accomplish. He wants to constantly show and testify that he is “not as stupid as my father” (1x05). This is why he feels the need to crack the same safe (S&D) his father couldn’t open on his own: 1. to remind himself that he didn’t turn out to be like him, but a better version and 2. in order for this brief success to fill the void of his pointless everyday life and make him feel as if he matters and his life has a meaning. He craves self-appreciation and proud because he was literally raised to believe he will never be enough or worth considering at all. It’s his coping mechanism.

The last Kala’s scene of the episode is set in the Ganesha temple. As I said before, it’s the only place where she can truly be herself, and this is why in S1 she will be seen here a lot. Ganesha, by being this silent and listening presence, provides her of assurance and understanding. It’s interesting to notice that, since the god himself clearly can’t answer and his statue is a projection of the character’s faith, Kala turns out to be not only her own moral persecutor, but also her own pressure valve. The process of conversing with Ganesha provides her the same venting, healing effect of writing on a secret diary. It’s her coping mechanism. Here she says that she is about to marry a very important man who everyone in her society thinks of as the perfect Indian husband, but that she actually doesn’t love. “How could I say no?” she asks nearly in tears, thinking about her parents “dancing around the house”. She develops an internal moral struggle that will be the source of her character’s essence for two seasons. She is not about to enter an arranged marriage, because the man who proposed to her wasn’t specifically chosen by her parents. This conscious decision on her (which is what led her family consider this as a “love union”, despite not being such) is not the result of an imposed coercion from the outside, but of an internal sacrifice that she experiences as a necessary burden thanks to the mentality she inherited from her culture. She is putting societal expectations and her parents’ happiness above her own because she believes that this is the kind of behavior that is excepted from her in order to be appreciated and judged as “proper” and “adequate”. It’s a matter of cultural indoctrination. She is consciously making a choice that she knows will only satisfy others. In this moment Kala is truly suffering and almost ends up crying: this is not a choice she’s making for herself. She is suffocating her real self and building a superficial, fake image of a lady she doesn’t feel comfortable being just because in her societal environment there’s only room for that lady.

The last Wolfgang’s scene of the episode features him performing a robbery. The really important moment here happens when he takes a break from trying to crack the S&D safe and turns on the tv. Despite knowing how uncomfortable he feels singing in public, he states that watching music competitions actually relaxes him (probably because, as we discover in the finale episode, he used to sing a lot with his mother when he was young, which likely was the only distraction they had from the violence of his father). Here, though, the singing competition becomes a metaphor for how Wolfgang feels internally, as suggested by the comparison between the girl’s performance and his own flashback. In this memory a young Wolfgang is shown being unable to perform on stage because of his father’s general presence ― that scares him, since he was constantly abused by him — and particular attitude in that moment — that makes him feel worthless and nullified. Felix’s comment about the girl being unable to win the competition not because of her singing talent but because of her physical aspect (i.e. something irrelevant to a fair and objective judgement) mirrors young Wolfgang’s feeling of being unable to sing not because of stage fright or failure worries (he actually enjoys singing) but because of the terror of being constantly ridiculed and put down by his father. He was traumatized. The fact that the girl in tv actually ends up losing the competition is a testament of Wolfgang’s permanent inability of recovering from his internalized childhood traumas that still torment him nowadays. This finale recognition is what ultimately forces him to fulfil the need of “cracking the uncrackable” and definitely release himself from his father’s mockeries. The satisfied look on his face, once he finally opens the safe, steams not only from the concrete opportunity of collecting the diamonds, but especially from the abstract gain of a new self-worth and praise that discredit what his father always accustomed him to think about himself. He finally proved his father wrong.

That’s all for the pilot. We’ll see in the next episode, where things start to get really interesting for Kalagang.

[onemoremiraclefandoms-blog]

Comfort in Hell - Chapter Four

“I did what?” Ed asked, staring at his commanding officer in shock. Mustang had dreamt that he'd killed him? Mustang had had a nightmare about Edward Elric being a killer? He had starred in Roy's dreams. He found himself laughing before he had any control over stopping himself. He hadn't heard anything so ridiculous in his life. Of all the people to play the part of murderer in Roy's mind, it had been Edward? The blonde managed to calm himself when he saw that Mustang wasn't laughing with him. 

In fact, Mustang wasn't even looking at him any more. The dark haired man sat upright in the bed with his head bowed slightly and his black bangs covering his face. Ed watched him for a moment and noticed that Mustang's hands, despite being clenched, were shaking and showed Ed the obvious signs that the dream still had a hold over some of Roy's emotions. The man was struggling to control himself in front of Edward. Ed suddenly found himself reaching out to take Roy's wrist with his human hand. Roy always wore a mask to hide his feelings. Even during their arguments, it was clear that Mustang was hiding behind a mask. It was different from his cool stoic one, but it hide his vulnerabilities just as well, and now, just this once, Edward had stumbled upon the man before all his façades were in place and it intrigued Edward. He felt himself being pulled into this new mystery that was his superior officer. Ed stood up and moved to sit on the side of Roy's bed, slightly trance like. Roy watched him carefully. His shaking had all but stopped with his mind distracted. Ed shifted his hand from Roy's wrist into his hand and curled their fingers together. Edward offered Roy a small smile, which he returned even as his brow creased in confusion. “Roy, don't be stupid. You know that I wouldn't kill someone, even you.” Ed said softly, silently adding especially you. “I'd never hurt you Mustang, and I'd definitely would never drown you. Where would that thought even come from?” Roy didn't answer Ed straight away. The silence lasted so long that Ed was beginning to feel tense and embarrassed because he still held Roy's hand. Just as he'd decided to let go and move off the bed, Roy tightened his grip slightly and, still not making eye contact, spoke in the softest of whispers. “They did it.” Ed heard the words clearly, despite how quiet they were spoken and it felt like ice had been tossed over him. His eyes widened in shock as he processed Roy's words and then he narrowed them slightly, giving Roy's hand a quick squeeze. “They... They drowned you?” Ed asked carefully. Roy hadn't spoken about what had happened. He hadn't even mentioned it in passing and now that he'd opened up this little bit Edward didn't want to scare him off, but he wanted to know more about what had happened. Roy's hand was shaking again – but there was no way of Ed telling if it was from the memories or the nerves of talking about it. “They held my head under water... over and over again. And they made me think I was drowning by putting a wet cloth in my mouth.” Roy mumbled, still not looking at Ed. The blonde noticed that Roy was embarrassed. He was ashamed of his nightmare, and he was ashamed that he'd been tortured. Ed's heart clenched painfully at how vulnerable Roy seemed just now. “They eventually stopped when I stopped fighting them.” Ed tightened his grip on Roy's hand subconsciously as he heard the anger and pain in his tone. Roy always came across as untouchable, but now this unknown group of men had stormed into their lives, taken Roy and ripped away all his defences, leaving behind a shell of the man he had once been, desperate for something to hide his shame behind. “I'll never let them touch you again.” Ed whispered to Roy in the silence that followed, showing that Roy wasn't going to share anything else. Roy looked up at Ed then. The blonde's tone shocked him. He was quiet but his tone held so much passion that Roy couldn't doubt Edward's words. It was fierce and protective and completely loyal and it make Roy's heart stutter. He met the determined look in Edward's eyes – it was the same fiery look from that first meeting, and he watched, intrigued, as Ed gave him a small, warm smile. Roy was suddenly aware of Ed - really aware. He was aware of Edward's smell, the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled, the way that their hands fit perfectly together. It all made his mouth go dry and his heart thumped its appreciation of the young man that sat on the bed across from him. The memories of his dream, of Ed's lips against his own, were still fresh in Roy's willing mind and he took a moment to smother the lust he felt and returned Edward's smile. Edward knew that Roy wasn't going to say any more about his torture just yet, but he'd opened up that little bit. The first steps were always the worst and it would get easier for Roy to tell Ed more later on. Edward gave Roy another quick squeeze of the hand and then stood up. “I need to get back to the office. They've got me helping with all your work.” Ed groaned and Roy smirked smugly at him. “I'll come by later, okay?” “Okay.” Roy said. Ed hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave. Roy couldn't blame him, the paperwork wasn't something anybody really wanted to rush back to. “You should go, Ed. You don't want to keep Hawkeye waiting.” He watched as Ed shuddered slightly. He'd known Hawkeye for years. She would be taking all the weight of the work and she'd be worried sick about him. No doubt she was stressed. If the thought of keeping the women waiting inspired fear or discomfort into the young man then she was clearly running the office very strictly. He returned Ed's small wave and watched the blonde leave before he slumped back in his bed. Roy stared down at his hand. Edward had held it without any second thoughts. The touch had managed to calm the nerves that lingered from the nightmare. How had he done that with a simple touch? How had he made it seem so normal? Since when did he feel safe with Edward Elric? Roy let out a groan and covered his face with his hand. It must be those dreams. He was delusional. He had to be. - Edward sat in the office with the rest of the team and a pile of papers in front of them. Since Roy went missing, Hawkeye had taken control of the office and everyone was secretly thankful for it. They had each taken over completing what they could of Roy's paperwork, but the pile of what they didn't have the rank to complete was beginning to grow. Edward stared at his pile of work and let out a small sigh. He was sure that his work was breeding over night. It never seemed to go down, and it was all so boring. He now knew why Roy would do anything to get out if it. Roy. Edward longed to go back to the hospital and sit with Roy. He was constantly concerned and always felt uneasy when he wasn't sitting by the man's bed., seeing for himself that he was returning to his old self. Injuries were still healing, and he was still far from perfect again, but he was getting there. He'd be out of the hospital soon. Ed hadn't been sleeping well recently because of his concern and obsession with finding out who had went after Roy. Al would often hear Ed get up in the middle of the night. He slipped into Ed's room on one such occasion and found his brother reading alchemy notes that he'd read countless times before.

“What are you doing, brother?” Al had asked, catching Edward's attention.

“I'm reading.” Ed replied without looking up from the book in his hands. He heard the soft pad of feet on his floor as Al come closer.

“Brother, its 3 in the morning, and you've read all these books enough times to memorise them. Why aren't you sleeping?” Al asked, crouching down at Ed's side. Edward lifted tired eyes from the book in his lap to look at his brother. He could see the faint traces of concern in Al's eyes and he smiled at his younger brother in an attempt to ease his worry.

“I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd read for a bit.” He offered by explanation. It was a nightmare that woke him up. One inspired by the night that they tried to bring their mother back. It was the worry for Roy that kept him up though. Usually after a nightmare, once the panic had faded, he could slip back into an uneasy sleep, but not recently. Thoughts and feelings all revolving around Roy kept him restless and awake. So in response to this, Ed had crawled from his bed and now sat in amongst piles of books.

Al sighed and easily pried the book from loose fingers. He closed it, added it to the top of a pile close to him and then stood up. He held a hand out to help pull Ed up. The older Elric groaned as his muscles screamed at the movement and he was suddenly very aware of how stiff he felt. He'd overdone it again. He stifled a yawn and Al laughed at him. Al led his brother to the bed and gently pushed him onto it. Ed obeyed and crawled under the covers, curling a hand over his mouth when he yawned again. “Get some sleep, brother.” Al said softly, waiting for Ed's nod of agreement before turning to leave. He knew that his older brother was worried about Mustang, but he didn't want to bring the man up when Ed seemed worry-free. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Al.” Ed mumbled, already drifting into sleep. He was so far gone that he didn't even hear as Al shut the door.

-

Ed let out another sigh and dropped his head onto the desk. Why could he only think about Roy these days? And why was it always “Roy”? Ed had thought of him as bastard, or Mustang for as long as he'd known him. Of course, he'd known that he was called Roy, but he'd never been Roy, not to Ed. So why was he suddenly Roy?

“What's up, Chief?” Havoc asked, making Ed look up. He couldn't voice any of his inner thoughts. He hadn't even told Al any of them, although he suspected that his younger brother knew anyway. As innocent as Ed wanted to keep Al, his brother was wise and could often hear things where no words were spoken. He'd pick up on little cues that Ed never realised were there.

“Does the bastard always need to get such boring paperwork?” Ed muttered in reply to Havoc. He'd stick to safe ground, sighing due to boredom was expected in this office and his use bastard added to the expected. “I'm beginning to understand why he'll do anything to avoid it.” That gained a laugh from Breda who was also deciding on a break while Hawkeye was out of the room. Havoc nodded in reply to Edward, and the blonde alchemist sighed again.

“I don't see why he needs to get all these stupid reports. None of them seem to be of any significance, to anyone.” Ed complained again, dropping his head onto his arms. He was known for his ability to focus and tune out everything else. It wasn't unknown for Edward to forget to eat because he was so focused on some document, however, those were all research. Research into a way to get Al back, or alchemy research – as it had grown to be once Al was back in his body. Under no circumstance were those documents in any way similar to the ones that sat in front of him.

“Because these reports and requests must be authorised by someone of significant rank, Edward.” Hawkeye's voice reached him from where she stood by the door. “You know that. We all get paperwork like this, even you. Since the General gets more than we do, its our duty to help him. He can't do these at the moment and he'll have enough to do when he gets back.”

Ed sighed again and out of the corner of his eye he watched Breda and Havoc quickly return to their work. He knew that she was only speaking the truth – there was no way Roy would be able to catch up on all this work if they didn't all chip in and help – but it irked him. He didn't need another reminder of Roy's condition. He didn't want to remember finding him chained up like that, or the way he seemed to crave Edward's touch. He had been so broken and he had yet to talk about what happened. Would he ever open up? Surely he'd eventually tell someone. Hughes or Hawkeye maybe.

Or me. Would he tell me? He told me about the drowning thing. But he only did that because I was there when he woke up. Roy had been shaking; he was still terrified and he had needed someone to talk to. It could have been anybody. It could have been a nurse. It wasn't though, it was me and that made me feel special, didn't it? It felt like he trusted me. Does he trust me? Will he trust me enough to talk about what happened? Do I even want to know?

“Edward!” Hawkeye's voice tore through his internal dialogue. She was watching him closely and he realised that he'd zoned out. With a muttered apology, Edward set his dwindling attention back on his work.

-

Ed dropped into the sofa with a contented groan. He'd managed to finish all the paperwork Hawkeye had given him to do for Roy but he was beginning to fall behind on his own. His back and shoulder hurt from being slumped over the desk all day and his mind was numb from the blandness of his work. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back onto the cushioned back of the sofa.

It wasn't long until the door opening announced Al's return from school and Ed peeled his eyes open when he heard his brother enter the room. They shared a smile and a greeting as Al dropped his bag and coat by the desk near the door and then moved to sit next to Ed. “How was your day brother?” Al asked, smiling at Ed's groan.

“Don't Al, I don't want to ever have another day so fucking boring.” Ed complained, tugging at his braid. “I don't know how he does it Al. All that paper work makes my brain turn to mush.” He glared at his younger brother when Al laughed and watched as the younger male stood up.

“Come on brother. It sounds like you need to blow off steam.”

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

You know, what’s interesting to me? I keep noticing a recurring theme within Emma and H00k’s relationship across the last couple of episodes - Emma wants there to be no walls between them. She wants a candid, raw, completely open relationship where they share everything and there are no secrets. 

“It’s just you and me. No walls. No secrets.”

“You come to me, H00k! And you lean on me and you trust me. We have to stop hiding things from each other. […] That is what I agreed to marry, that is what I thought we were together.” 

Even when H00k tries to be honest with Emma, there’s always something lurking in the woodwork to come out from his past and his natural instinct is to withhold the truth from her. He lied to her for the entirety of 6x12 (I know some will justify it by saying he was doing it to help David, which is fair enough, but the fact remains that he lied to Emma to do that). Even though we heard him show remorse for what he’d done to David’s father and even though he repeatedly said he was going to tell Emma the truth and he even tried to tell her, in the end he continued to hide it from Emma. He was actually going to burn his memories and we can assume never tell her the truth about it. And this isn’t the only time there’s been secrets between them. Throughout their relationship there’s been a high level of secrecy, even if they claim to be doing it out of love (which let’s be honest, everyone can excuse most of their lies with, but it doesn’t make it any less wrong). In season 5 their plot was pretty much entirely rooted in secrecy. Emma used her dark magic, tainted everyone’s memories and lied to H00k all to keep the secret from him that he was a Dark One. Earlier in the season H00k lied to Emma about getting rid of the shears (even though he did do the right thing and come clean in the end). There are probably more examples of these kinds of secrets, but none I can think of off the top of my head. Regardless, as hard as Emma and H00k try (and I’ll give it to them, they really do try) they just can’t seem to maintain an open and honest relationship with one another. Snow herself even criticized Emma’s relationship with H00k when she said: 

“Look, your father and I might not be perfect, but we don’t keep secrets from each other.” 

But guess what? Emma already has exactly what she wants - what she needs - a relationship without secrets, a person she can be completely honest with and who will do the same in return. It’s not H00k, it’s Regina. 

It’s canon that Emma and Regina know each other, a basis upon which a truly honest relationship is formed. To be completely open with each other you have to know each other inside and out and understand each other’s inner workings. 

“Emma, listen to me. I know you. The good you is still in there.”

I know her. I believe her. 

Look, I know you, Emma. It took a long time but I really know you. 

Emma, I know you. You will fight it. 

I know you, Emma. You fight when it matters. (x) (x)

And because they know each other so well, they can’t lie to each other, even if they wanted to. 

“You can lie to your parents, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.” 

“With you Regina, I can always tell when you’re lying.” (x)

There’s a sense of unspoken communication and understanding between Regina and Emma which means they instinctively seem to pick up on each other’s feelings, vulnerabilities and lies, which this post clearly demonstrates. Here we see Regina seeing straight past Emma’s mask and proving the point I already made that no matter how hard they try they can’t lie to each other. 

And what’s even more important is that Emma and Regina’s relationship has developed to a point whereby they don’t even try to hide the truth from each other anymore. In season 6, in particular, I’ve noticed a clear pattern whereby Regina and Emma confide in each other all the time about their anxieties or problems rather than hiding them from each other (x). And that is just one example. 

Going back to season 5 when Emma was the Dark One, there was a level of trust that Emma placed in Regina that she didn’t in anyone else which Emma proved when Regina is the one she entrusted the dagger to out of everyone in her family, including H00k. Regina also shared her most painful and private memory - Daniel’s death - with Emma in order to help her. In 5x08 Regina is the one that picked up on Emma’s struggle with the darkness, she called her out on it, encouraged her to knock down all the walls she was hiding behind. In that same episode in Storybrooke Emma confided in Regina about her anxieties over Liam (H00k’s brother) and his opinion about her. And 5x22 is a perfect example of just how much the walls between Emma and Regina have completely dropped (x). Not only did Regina confide in Emma completely, even admitting that the darkness was still alluring to her and how she struggled with it and Emma openly accepted Regina and told her, “I believe in you.” 

Skipping forward to season 6, this aspect of Regina and Emma’s relationship has continued to develop. In 6x04 Regina confided in Emma about what they needed to do to kill The Evil Queen and trusted Emma above everyone else with the secret that she had to die in order to do that (x). In 6x05 Emma told Regina about her visions of her death and the truth about the possibility of Regina being the one under the hood, even though she clearly didn’t want to because she knew it would offend and upset Regina. Later on when Emma went to Regina’s vault, there was an honesty between them as Regina said she was trying to save Emma’s life and Emma admitted she was worried. In 6x08, Regina shared her plan on how she wanted to get rid of the Evil Queen with no one but Emma. And it was a perfect example of showing just how open and honest their relationship has become, particularly in regards to their roles as mother’s to Henry (x). Emma told Regina that the only thing that was giving her comfort regarding her impending death was knowing Henry would have Regina, when they were trapped in the mirror realm Regina admitted she was afraid to raise Henry alone and later on in Storybrooke Regina and Emma openly spoke about their emotions regarding their son since he was all grown up. In 6x11 Regina didn’t even attempt to hide her turmoil over Robin and also admitted how the world would be better without her. I could continue listing these kinds of scenes/moments between Emma and Regina, but I think I’ve made my point. 

When Emma or Regina are in trouble, they’re in a dilemma, they’re upset, anxious or unsure, they confide in one another and turn to one another for help. They trust that they will always have each other’s backs and will help each other in any way they can. They don’t feel the need to hide the truth from one another to protect each other’s feelings, because they both know that they’re strong. Emma believes in Regina and Regina believes in Emma. Whatever the issue is, they always have faith they can work it out together. With Regina and Emma, there is also no shame. Emma knows the darkest parts of Regina and vice versa and they have openly discussed that with each other on more than one occasion, yet they openly have faith in their light conquering their darkness. Whenever Regina has expressed doubt about her ability to be good and do good, Emma immediately dives in to remind her that she can do it and vice versa. Regina is the one that encouraged Emma not to give into the darkness in 4x20 and she’s the one that told Emma she believed there was still good in her when she was the Dark One. Likewise, Emma is the one that told Regina that being evil isn’t what made her strong and was the first one that believed in her way back in season 2. 

Everything Emma thinks she and H00k are, everything she wants them to be…it’s what she and Regina already are. With Emma and Regina there are no walls, no secrets, they do lean on each other and they do trust each other. 

[cedarrrun]

Yoga teacher Benny James shares how he learned to stand in his truth.

Yoga teacher Benny James grew up wearing baggy clothing and deepening his voice in order to blend in with straight men and avoid altercations. Now, he's giving himself the space he needs to heal his trauma.

I am a gay man who has known my sexual orientation since I was 10 years old. Back then, I befriended the popular guys at school because I had crushes on them. I loved adorning my mom’s purple chiffon sundress. I was a ballet dancer. Watching the girls who practiced in the class before mine, I looked up to their power and femininity. But I didn’t dare tell anyone my secret, for fear of rejection by my family and community. Growing up in Colorado Springs, where megachurches ran conversion therapy camps (the practice was finally outlawed in May, making Colorado the 18th state to ban conversion therapy for minors), I’d overheard plenty of men say horrific things like, “I’ll kill a faggot if they ever try to touch me.”

Despite all that, at 16, I decided it was time to start the coming-out process. I remember seeing my two best friends, both female, cuddled up on the couch with their boyfriends and yearning for a fulfilling romantic relationship of my own. I came out to them first, and they were absolutely elated for me. Within two months, they fixed me up with a cute guy who became my first boyfriend. Next I decided to tell my coworkers. They, too, made me feel so accepted that I started building up the courage to tell my parents and my older brother. I believed my family would offer the same support.

It happened by accident: My parents caught me kissing my boyfriend in the driveway—we were teenagers, after all. That night, my dad drove my boyfriend home and told him he would never see me again; my mom cried and told me how much I’d disappointed her. I was grounded for a year, and they started chastising me for smiling, laughing, or talking in my naturally effeminate way.

See also LGBT History Month: One Yoga Teacher's Coming Out Story

Since I had flamboyant mannerisms, my sexual orientation didn’t seem to be much of a secret. Strangers made fun of me. Families moved tables at restaurants so as to not be near me. Sometimes, if I glanced at a man in passing, he’d puff up and say something like, “Keep looking at me, and I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

I started wearing baggy jeans and hoodies—anything that I could hide behind. I tried to deepen my voice and quit smiling. My resentment was quickening into anger. For years, my parents forced me to take part in sports and activities that they considered masculine, such as baseball, basketball, and karate, even though I was truly only interested in ballet. While everyone was required to watch my brother’s wrestling matches, only my mother (begrudgingly, I felt) attended my recitals—my father made it clear that he wasn’t interested. It was devastating to know my dad deemed me a lesser male, so much so that he largely removed himself from my life.

Furious that I had to take on an alternate personality just to avoid altercations with men who felt uncomfortable around me, I fell into a deep, manic depression. I was mixing sleeping pills, mood stabilizers, and over-the-counter cold medications I had found in my parents’ medicine cabinets. I was huffing any solvent-based chemical I found tossed in the garage. I obsessed over the idea of ending my own life. (Gay, lesbian, and bisexual high school students are more than four times as likely to attempt suicide and nearly three times as likely to make a plan to die by suicide than their heterosexual peers, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.)

See also Yoga Transformed Me After Suicidal Thoughts

When I turned 17, an opportunity came along that changed my life. An artistic director saw me perform at a dance convention and recruited me to dance in her professional ballet company. (Years later, she’d tell me that she fell in love with the way I’d poured my anguish and fury into my artistry.) I decided to finish high school online so I could explore dance full time. Because I was still grounded, I had to be at home when I wasn’t at the dance studio working. But it provided me with a cover to recuperate my social life: I’d tell my parents I was at work when I was out with my friends and my boyfriend.

The professional dance world—in which no one is ever good enough—was a refuge in some sense, but it also created even more mental dysfunction. I danced in front of a mirror all day observing my body, which only reinforced the idea that I needed to be something other than myself: skinnier, stronger, better at high jumps.

After several months of dancing, I started attending hot power flows at a local yoga studio as a way to cross-train and prevent injuries. One day, after I’d been practicing five times a week for about a year, my male yoga teacher guided us into Child’s Pose and asked, “When are you going to stop running away from yourself and begin the long journey home?” And just like that, I started sobbing. I’d run so far away from my identity that I didn’t even know how to start looking for myself again. I looked to my yoga teacher: With his eloquent philosophy and his confidence in who he was—long hair, flowing clothing, and gentle mannerisms—he started to show me that men could be vulnerable and accepted. He was a metaphor for possibilities beyond my struggle.

See also Try This Sequence to Confront Your Fears and Unleash Your Inner Warrior

After high school, I danced on cruise ships, traveling to Europe, New England, the Caribbean, and Alaska. I also went to India to visit ashrams and completed teacher trainings in yogic studies in traditional Hatha Yoga. On the ship, I’d gather people and lead yoga classes, which helped me sort through my life. If I noticed I was feeling depressed, I’d use yoga to help unpack it. This allowed me to ask myself: “What does unfettered Benny look like?”

Fifteen years later, I returned to Colorado Springs hoping to create a life teaching yoga while training to be a massage therapist. After finding success around the world, I thought I’d get a second chance at experiencing unconditional love and acceptance from my family. My yoga classes were gaining traction, and I’d met a man—an energy healer—who would become my fiancé. But my parents were unwilling to speak with me about our painful past. As a yoga teacher, I had followed in the footsteps of my first teacher, who guided others to their true selves, where they have always been whole. Through this work, I realized I had to come to terms with the fact that in my hometown I was still boxed into an identity that hadn’t evolved since I’d left. To step into my full brilliance, I had to flee once again—and cut ties with my parents. It was difficult but empowering, because I yearned for a joyful, authentic life.

See also Jacoby Ballard: Personal Transformation + Healing Yoga

Today, my partner and I are exploring what it means to be free in a new city—St. Petersburg, Florida. We’ve both taken a step back from our work healing others to allow ourselves the time and space to fully recover from past traumas. Enjoying a slow-paced lifestyle near the beach, we paint, sculpt, draw, write, cook, dance, and do whatever else bubbles up in our hearts. Together, we are able to lift each other up to our highest purpose.

More recently, there have been a lot of men in my life who are ready to do the work necessary to create a new paradigm for living consciously, free from damaging expectations and stereotypes. They listen to the conversations that call out their toxic behavior and hold themselves and others accountable. My days of enduring bullying or aggressive comments are behind me—or perhaps I don’t notice them anymore. I’ve developed a deep love and compassion for all men, because I understand how trying to live up to societal expectations leads them astray, to a place where they cannot freely express emotion or live their highest truths.

When I consider where I started from and where I stand now, I am changed. Today I have the freedom to be, to express, to be seen, to show up, and to stand strong in who I am. Yoga never gave me the answers—it encouraged me to explore and find them within myself.

See also Practice for Pride: 7 Poses to Celebrate LGBT Pride + Promote Peace

About the author

Benny James is a yoga teacher, massage therapist, and inspirational speaker in St. Petersburg, Florida and founder of the alternative wellness company Maha Mountain. His mission is to help others find inner strength to uncover a life that they love. Learn more at mahamountain.com.

[krisiunicornio]

Yoga teacher Benny James shares how he learned to stand in his truth.

Yoga teacher Benny James grew up wearing baggy clothing and deepening his voice in order to blend in with straight men and avoid altercations. Now, he's giving himself the space he needs to heal his trauma.

I am a gay man who has known my sexual orientation since I was 10 years old. Back then, I befriended the popular guys at school because I had crushes on them. I loved adorning my mom’s purple chiffon sundress. I was a ballet dancer. Watching the girls who practiced in the class before mine, I looked up to their power and femininity. But I didn’t dare tell anyone my secret, for fear of rejection by my family and community. Growing up in Colorado Springs, where megachurches ran conversion therapy camps (the practice was finally outlawed in May, making Colorado the 18th state to ban conversion therapy for minors), I’d overheard plenty of men say horrific things like, “I’ll kill a faggot if they ever try to touch me.”

Despite all that, at 16, I decided it was time to start the coming-out process. I remember seeing my two best friends, both female, cuddled up on the couch with their boyfriends and yearning for a fulfilling romantic relationship of my own. I came out to them first, and they were absolutely elated for me. Within two months, they fixed me up with a cute guy who became my first boyfriend. Next I decided to tell my coworkers. They, too, made me feel so accepted that I started building up the courage to tell my parents and my older brother. I believed my family would offer the same support.

It happened by accident: My parents caught me kissing my boyfriend in the driveway—we were teenagers, after all. That night, my dad drove my boyfriend home and told him he would never see me again; my mom cried and told me how much I’d disappointed her. I was grounded for a year, and they started chastising me for smiling, laughing, or talking in my naturally effeminate way.

See also LGBT History Month: One Yoga Teacher's Coming Out Story

Since I had flamboyant mannerisms, my sexual orientation didn’t seem to be much of a secret. Strangers made fun of me. Families moved tables at restaurants so as to not be near me. Sometimes, if I glanced at a man in passing, he’d puff up and say something like, “Keep looking at me, and I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

I started wearing baggy jeans and hoodies—anything that I could hide behind. I tried to deepen my voice and quit smiling. My resentment was quickening into anger. For years, my parents forced me to take part in sports and activities that they considered masculine, such as baseball, basketball, and karate, even though I was truly only interested in ballet. While everyone was required to watch my brother’s wrestling matches, only my mother (begrudgingly, I felt) attended my recitals—my father made it clear that he wasn’t interested. It was devastating to know my dad deemed me a lesser male, so much so that he largely removed himself from my life.

Furious that I had to take on an alternate personality just to avoid altercations with men who felt uncomfortable around me, I fell into a deep, manic depression. I was mixing sleeping pills, mood stabilizers, and over-the-counter cold medications I had found in my parents’ medicine cabinets. I was huffing any solvent-based chemical I found tossed in the garage. I obsessed over the idea of ending my own life. (Gay, lesbian, and bisexual high school students are more than four times as likely to attempt suicide and nearly three times as likely to make a plan to die by suicide than their heterosexual peers, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.)

See also Yoga Transformed Me After Suicidal Thoughts

When I turned 17, an opportunity came along that changed my life. An artistic director saw me perform at a dance convention and recruited me to dance in her professional ballet company. (Years later, she’d tell me that she fell in love with the way I’d poured my anguish and fury into my artistry.) I decided to finish high school online so I could explore dance full time. Because I was still grounded, I had to be at home when I wasn’t at the dance studio working. But it provided me with a cover to recuperate my social life: I’d tell my parents I was at work when I was out with my friends and my boyfriend.

The professional dance world—in which no one is ever good enough—was a refuge in some sense, but it also created even more mental dysfunction. I danced in front of a mirror all day observing my body, which only reinforced the idea that I needed to be something other than myself: skinnier, stronger, better at high jumps.

After several months of dancing, I started attending hot power flows at a local yoga studio as a way to cross-train and prevent injuries. One day, after I’d been practicing five times a week for about a year, my male yoga teacher guided us into Child’s Pose and asked, “When are you going to stop running away from yourself and begin the long journey home?” And just like that, I started sobbing. I’d run so far away from my identity that I didn’t even know how to start looking for myself again. I looked to my yoga teacher: With his eloquent philosophy and his confidence in who he was—long hair, flowing clothing, and gentle mannerisms—he started to show me that men could be vulnerable and accepted. He was a metaphor for possibilities beyond my struggle.

See also Try This Sequence to Confront Your Fears and Unleash Your Inner Warrior

After high school, I danced on cruise ships, traveling to Europe, New England, the Caribbean, and Alaska. I also went to India to visit ashrams and completed teacher trainings in yogic studies in traditional Hatha Yoga. On the ship, I’d gather people and lead yoga classes, which helped me sort through my life. If I noticed I was feeling depressed, I’d use yoga to help unpack it. This allowed me to ask myself: “What does unfettered Benny look like?”

Fifteen years later, I returned to Colorado Springs hoping to create a life teaching yoga while training to be a massage therapist. After finding success around the world, I thought I’d get a second chance at experiencing unconditional love and acceptance from my family. My yoga classes were gaining traction, and I’d met a man—an energy healer—who would become my fiancé. But my parents were unwilling to speak with me about our painful past. As a yoga teacher, I had followed in the footsteps of my first teacher, who guided others to their true selves, where they have always been whole. Through this work, I realized I had to come to terms with the fact that in my hometown I was still boxed into an identity that hadn’t evolved since I’d left. To step into my full brilliance, I had to flee once again—and cut ties with my parents. It was difficult but empowering, because I yearned for a joyful, authentic life.

See also Jacoby Ballard: Personal Transformation + Healing Yoga

Today, my partner and I are exploring what it means to be free in a new city—St. Petersburg, Florida. We’ve both taken a step back from our work healing others to allow ourselves the time and space to fully recover from past traumas. Enjoying a slow-paced lifestyle near the beach, we paint, sculpt, draw, write, cook, dance, and do whatever else bubbles up in our hearts. Together, we are able to lift each other up to our highest purpose.

More recently, there have been a lot of men in my life who are ready to do the work necessary to create a new paradigm for living consciously, free from damaging expectations and stereotypes. They listen to the conversations that call out their toxic behavior and hold themselves and others accountable. My days of enduring bullying or aggressive comments are behind me—or perhaps I don’t notice them anymore. I’ve developed a deep love and compassion for all men, because I understand how trying to live up to societal expectations leads them astray, to a place where they cannot freely express emotion or live their highest truths.

When I consider where I started from and where I stand now, I am changed. Today I have the freedom to be, to express, to be seen, to show up, and to stand strong in who I am. Yoga never gave me the answers—it encouraged me to explore and find them within myself.

See also Practice for Pride: 7 Poses to Celebrate LGBT Pride + Promote Peace

About the author

Benny James is a yoga teacher, massage therapist, and inspirational speaker in St. Petersburg, Florida and founder of the alternative wellness company Maha Mountain. His mission is to help others find inner strength to uncover a life that they love. Learn more at mahamountain.com.