#an unbalanced diet sent me

[fishareglorious]

Sinclair just went through his worst traumas in Canto 3 and now in 3.5 he can't event catch a goddamn break without someone mentioning how short he is

[melanie-ohara]

Take Yourself Apart For Me - Chapter 2

Whumpuary2024, Day 08 - Prompt: "Help Me"

Shin confronts her deepest fear: asking for help

I'll level with you: I cried a bit writing this one

AO3 Here

Shin spent the next two days in the Mandalorian's bed. Despite her escape attempt, they never attempted to put her back in the restraints - maybe they thought her injury would keep her captive. Or maybe they trusted her not to kill them in their sleep. Ahsoka Tano had given her back her lightsaber and from the weight of it Shin knew she hadn't removed the power pack, and she wondered what Baylan would have expected of her now. Tano was a war hero, he had told her, and she had no chance against her. She would sense her intentions even in the deepest of sleep and cut her down in seconds. But Sabine was weak: barely able to use the Force unless her life depended on it, unbalanced, and with aggression that rivalled Marrok. Shin had bested her in every contest they'd had, and she could kill her without breaking a sweat. 

Her eyes shifted down to the drawings on the wall. Did she want to kill her?

Baylan had sent her to Lothal. Morgan Elsbeth sent her on Seatos. Thrawn sent her on Peridea. Not once had she decided for herself. 

The door opened and Shin rolled onto her side to face the wall before Wren could see her face. Murley's portrait looked up at her, and Shin felt that its stare was a little accusatory.

"Brought you food," Sabine said, with cheer that didn't sound forced, no matter how much Shin wished otherwise. She lifted her hand and Sabine pressed the carton into her fingers without complaint. As always, she'd already put the straw in for her.

At Huyang's insistence, Shin was on a liquid diet of blended protein infusion until she was fully healed, and the thick, flavourless gruel she had to suck down through a straw sometimes made her wish Feldspar had actually killed her. She could hear Sabine beside her, unwrapping a protein bar for her own breakfast, and wished her presence didn't comfort her so much. She was sick of eating alone.

"Your armour," she said, after a long silence broken only by Sabine's chewing. "I heard the droid saying."

"It's wrecked," Sabine said, trying and failing to sound flippant. 

Shin remembered Sabine kneeling under a barrage of blaster fire from the bandits that had once been her allies. "Why did you save me?" she asked abruptly.

She didn't need to look to know Sabine had shrugged before she answered. "Ahsoka saw something in you," she said. Neither of them spoke for a moment. "Why didn't you go back to Thrawn?" Sabine finally asked.

Shin closed her eyes. She wanted to reach out for her lightsaber, sitting on Sabine's desk on the other side of the room - not to attack, just to feel the weight of it in her hand for a while. Instead, she pictured it: the orange crystal sitting at the centre of the emitter matrix, the delicate twists and curls of the cables that ran along the core to the power cells, the thick insulation sheath and the metal hilt that sealed it away. 

"I don't know," she lied.

"Right," Sabine said, scrunching up the wrapper of her protein bar and getting to her feet. "Good talk."

She sounded annoyed, and it reminded Shin uncomfortably of the way Baylan had spoken when she was younger, and failed one of his drills or didn't put her all into an exercise.

"Wait," Shin said, before she could stop herself. She rolled onto her back to check that Sabine hadn't left, and saw her standing with her head cocked slightly and her hand on her hips as she looked at her. 

"Go on," Sabine prompted. Gently this time. 

Shin swallowed hard, and then nodded. "Baylan left me," she said. The words caught in her throat, but she got them out. She had barely admitted it to herself before now. "I… couldn't leave him."

Sabine sat down again. "He's family."

Shin shook her head. "We're not related. But I've never known anyone else."

Sabine moved her hand, and for a frightening moment Shin thought she might touch her. Instead, she just laid her fingertips gently on the edge of the mattress, an inch away from Shin's arm. Her nails were painted deep red.

"I lost my family too," Sabine said quietly. "My planet. And Ezra, twice now."

Shin looked away from her eyes. "I never had any of that," she said to the ceiling. 

Sabine tilted her head. "Well, not many people have an Ezra to lose."

Shin thought it might have been a joke, but she didn't feel like laughing. It would hurt too much anyway. Sabine sighed and Shin felt her weight shift like she was about to get up, and she opened her mouth just to stop her.

"I haven't felt anything since that day." 

Shin couldn't tell which of them was more surprised by what she'd said, but it was true so she didn't try and take it back. She did try to stop the tears welling in her eyes and the tightness constricting her throat, but it didn't work. Slowly, Sabine leaned forwards.

"I've been there," she said softly. Shin felt a tear breach the corner of her eye and roll down the edge of her cheek into her hair. 

"Then… can you help me?" she asked.

This time Sabine did reach out to her, and Shin tried not to flinch too obviously when her palm came to rest on her forearm. She could feel the warmth of her touch even through the sleeve of her shirt. 

"What do you need?"

*

Sabine took her weight as she guided her across the common room to the cockpit access, one of Shin's arms over her shoulders. Her instinct was to loop her own arm around Shin's waist, but she had noticed how little she liked to be touched without warning and instead left it pressed awkwardly between their bodies as they walked. She kept an eye on the white surgical patch Huyang had pressed over Shin's wound once the skin had healed enough, looking for signs that she'd torn her stitches again, but they made it to the cockpit without incident. She lowered Shin carefully into the pilot's chair and then took her usual seat once she was settled. 

Sabine flipped the intercom switch. Ahsoka had left early to scout the mountain path ahead, but Huyang had stayed aboard with them. "Huyang, I'm taking us for a ride," she said.

"For what purpose?" the droid asked.

"Uh… We've been hovering for a week now, I want to run the engines for a bit. Make sure they don't dry out," she said, shooting a glance over at Shin. She was too busy familiarising herself with the cockpit to return it.

"This is a T6 Jedi Transport," Huyang complained. "The engines do not 'dry out'." 

"Ignore him," Sabine said. Shin was already ignoring both of them.

"Taking us out," she said, and tugged the yoke towards her. The ship rose gracefully into the sky and Shin accelerated a little as they climbed towards the clouds. Sabine watched her hands move over the controls with the ease of an experienced pilot and the care of someone who dearly loved to fly, and was reminded strangely of the way Hera flew the Ghost. She felt a pang of sadness then - Hera and Zeb and her old life were so far away now, and she would probably never see them again. Kanan was further away still.

"This suits you," Sabine told Shin, more to get out of her own head than anything else. It was true though: the other woman was sitting up straight with a look of calm concentration Sabine had never seen on her. When they fought, she looked feral - blistering focus and a vicious will to win - but now she looked in control.

"Baylan didn't like flying the ship," Shin said without taking her eyes off the wisps of cloud starting to break apart on the screen. "I taught myself."

She banked the ship a little faster than necessary and Sabine saw her relish the brief rush of G-force pressing them sideways into their seats. She didn't smile, exactly, but her wide unblinking eyes softened and the tension in her jaw eased for a moment. It returned quickly, though, and Sabine noticed her knuckles tense a little against the yoke.

"What is it?" she asked, and immediately regretted it. Shin hated her prying, but she couldn't help it.

Shin's lip twitched, but she answered the question. "The last time I flew, I was trying to kill you."

"That was you?" 

"You didn't know?"

Sabine thought for a moment, remembering the one-man fighter craft diving and twisting out of her gunsights every time she thought she had them locked. "The gold one," she said, and Shin nodded. "No wonder I couldn't hit you."

The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at Shin's lips, and Sabine let herself grin openly at the victory of finally cheering her up as Shin took one hand off the yoke to adjust the thrust vector of one of the engines, and then instead of putting it back on the controls she laid her hand, almost casually, on the console between them. 

Sabine stared, slackjawed and stunned, for several seconds. Then she looked up at Shin, who was looking very intently the other way. It was obvious, overt even, in a way she would never have expected from the woman who communicated in angry glares and five-word sentences. She almost didn't believe it, especially when Shin shied away from any attempt to touch her. Cautiously, Sabine moved her own hand - not close enough to touch Shin, but near enough that she would know she had noticed. She was reminded of facing off against her on Seatos, and the way she had read Sabine's guard and taken a counter-stance to match her. Sabine's heart was racing the same way, too. She looked over at Shin to see what she was going to do next. A barely perceptible blush rose on her cheeks under her gaze, and slowly, without taking her eyes off a point on the distant horizon, Shin moved her fingers out until they brushed against Sabine's own. 

Sabine couldn't help the gasp that slipped her lips, and she worried for a second that the sound made scare Shin off. Instead, when she looked over, she saw Shin looking back. She hadn't turned her head much, just enough that Sabine could see both of her pale, blue-green eyes. Her usual wide-eyed stare had softened, and now there was a definite smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

"Thank you, for this," Shin said. 

Sabine nodded slowly, and flicked out her tongue to moisten her lips. Cautiously, she lifted her little finger and let it drift gently across Shin's until she could curl it into the space between her third and fourth digit. Shin took her counter-stance: her little finger closed around Sabine's.

"So what happens now?" Sabine asked. 

"I don't know." This time she was telling the truth.

[krikeymate]

A couple days ago I sent an ask where I wondered how Tara took care of herself despite Christina's neglect, and your response got me thinking:

Christina was almost definitely providing Tara with money, but that would only go so far (a good portion might have had to be spent on other things, like clothes or utilities). Tara wouldn't have been able to get a job for several years, and she wouldn't have been able to rely solely on her friends families to provide her with food either. If her friends parents were helping her with buying groceries frequently enough, or she was going over for almost every single meal, then eventually someone would have eventually noticed that something was really wrong, and would have most likely contacted CPS (then again the authorities in Woodsboro are a bit of a joke).

That line of thinking eventually led to a headcanon: what if Tara has slight food insecurity because of Christina's neglect? Like whenever they start to run low on food in New York, instead of making a list and going shopping like most people do, Tara just immediately starts rationing it.

The best part about this is how much it must weigh on Sam too.

I was already thinking Tara lives off a simple diet- noodles and rice and pasta. Unbalanced and bland and cheap.

Tara can't bring herself to buy more food when there's food in the house, but Tara's definition of food is... different, so Sam does all the grocery shopping.

Sam spent 5 years away doing nothing but working on herself and saving money, so that she wouldn't come back into her sister's life a failure. But she can't bring herself to tell Tara that, - it's her emergency fund now, it's her we have to run now fund - so now she works two jobs to make sure they have enough that Tara doesn't anxiously reweigh her food and reduce her portion sizes, so that she can eat more than once a day and suffer through a balanced diet like she should. Tara still hasn't figured out how to enjoy food yet, but Sam's working on it.

[pearlsofthec]

hi girl i really need to vent to someone about this… im currently in my first year of college and i’m taking a bachelor that i really love and feel like it’s meant for me. but nevertheless i struggle to bring myself to study - im a very lazy person and i feel like i do my best only under pressure. but that gives me so much stress and its not healthy to my body. i know that laziness is my weak point but sometimes i feel guilty about not studying because “im not feeling it” and i always have to rush myself.

whats your experience with uni? do you have any advice for me? thank you feel free not to respond if you dont feel like it ❤️❤️❤️

Hii I'm glad you sent me this message because I honestly go through the same procrastination rabbit hole during exams seasons, and even though I don't know if I can offer you a solution, I can at least say I totally understand where you're coming from!

I'm not exactly cured from this, but a few things have helped me work through it, and I'm gonna share them with the hopes they could help you too! SO, first of all, although it may sound completely unrelated, changing my diet actually increased my focus so so much. Last year, my diet consisted mainly of carbs, bad, easy to get carbs, which not only end up making you look unhealthy, but also feel sluggish. I knew how eating would always make me feel sleepy, so I would just postergate having any as much as I could, drink a lot of caffeine, eat a completely unbalanced dinner and sleep almost immediately. In theory that sounds somewhat practical, but when I tell you I could not focus or be productive at all while doing this crazy routine I mean it. Staying consistent in your work also means staying consistent in other parts of your life, so I definitely would recommend working out your health routine in coordination of your study routine! I wrote about the food situation, but that alone would have made a fraction of the difference I've felt having solved both that problem and organizing a consistent physical activity schedule (I do 1h of pilates/ yoga 4-6 times a week!).

I also had to get in my head that there will never be a perfect time to study. I'll never feel like studying, I'll never be in the mood to read a book about the conservation of architecture or do three hours worth of physics exercises, so I stimulate myself with the thought that though there is no perfect moment, this could be the as perfect as it gets moment, and just force myself to do it. I think more than anything, it's important not to fall into the trap of only working when you feel motivated, and create a work routine that's tied to your habits. There's this portuguese saying my mom always tells me "The "perfect" is the "good"'s enemy", and though it may sound crazy, it kind of makes sense... sometimes you procrastinate so much trying to achieve perfection, that you forget that a good result, is far more valuable than a well intentioned unfinished one.

There are probably more things, but I think I've already bored you enough! I'm sure you're gonna get there, let me know <3

XX

[triforceangel13]

An Accidental Mating Ch. 6 (A SidLink Omegaverse Story)

Chapter 6: Behind Closed Doors

“Remember Link, since this baby is part Zora you do need to adapt to a Zoran diet,” Zelda said, snapping the book shut on her lap.

“Isn't it just mostly rice and fish?” Link asked.

“Yes, though lots of fish. Test out what the baby likes and avoid what he or she doesn't,” Zelda said happily. “You want this baby healthy right?”

“More than anything.” He wanted nothing more than to bring a happy child into this world even if it meant they wouldn't have a father.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about this Ezra being the father.

“Then fish, fish, fish.”

And fish it was. Several days had passed since Link had found out who his alpha was and he spent most of his time with the cooks in the kitchen if he wasn't doing research with Zelda. Ezra lingered in the kitchen with him, attempting to warm up to him but Link would not budge. He still didn't believe he was the father to his baby. There was an itch at the back of his mind but the proof was in the mark on his neck.

Maybe one day he would warm up to him but for right now he would keep him around, but at a distance. So far Ezra was being respectful of that.

That day however Ezra had a double shift doing guard duty, leaving Link to his own devices as Zelda was doing her own thing as well. Link had gone to the kitchen as he normally did, this time so happy with the dish they had prepared that he had asked for seconds.

Salmon meuniere. He had gobbled the first dish  quickly and had asked for another. This time they had loaded the bowl for him and instead of sitting there eating like the glutton he was in front of them he decided to take a walk, wanting some piece of mind.

The library sounded like a good place to sit for a while.

He slipped into the room with the bowl in his hands, leaning forward to get a small taste of the salmon from a small taste when he collided with someone coming out of the room.

The bowl slipped from his hands, his body toppling over as well quickly.

“Link!” came a gasp, an arm wrapping around his body, keeping him from falling hard onto his bottom and hurting him self. Link expected to hit the floor. He had also expected to hear the clatter of the food he had been wanting to eat but a slow peek of his eyes saw the bowl clutched in a large red hand, the food only spilling a little on the floor.

“I'm so sorry. I should have looked before I stepped out,” came Sidon's voice. Link's cheeks flushed as he looked up at the prince. He hadn't seen him in so long and now here he was, cradled in his arms. Just his touch sent tingles through him.

“No, I should have been watching,” Link said, settling back on his feet with Sidon's help. The prince hovered over him, helping him into a chair at the table in the room and then set the food in front of him. Silence passed between them, the only sound coming from Sidon as he let out a sigh.

That look of pain was back on his face.

“I should get going,” he finally said.

Link quickly reached out, grabbing onto his arm which caused him to pause, looking down at him longing eyes.

“No, please stay. I haven't seen you in a while. Perhaps...maybe we can catch up?” he asked. He knew it would be hard. Sidon knew exactly what he had been up to in his past.

“Link, I don't know if I can...” Sidon said sadly, but the sudden sight of Link's eyes filling with tears had Sidon sitting in the chair next to him quickly.

“No, no. Please don't cry my friend.”

Link gazed at him confused until he felt the tears leak down his cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand, a tad embarrassed that Sidon had seen that. Damn his hormones for making him so unbalanced.

“It's the hormones,” he explained with a sigh, going to wipe more away when Sidon wiped them away himself. His cheeks rose with color, eyes watching the Zora before him.

“I'm sorry that it's become such a pain,” Sidon said to him. “I can't say I know you're pain. Though I am a little surprised if I'm honest.”

“How so?” Link asked, feeling the lack of warmth as Sidon dropped his hands and gathered Link's bowl closer to him.

“Well I never thought you would be an omega of all things. Not that it's a bad thing. It just proves that even the strongest man of Hyrule can be an omega as well,” Sidon said, wiping the spoon handle off with his hand and then licked his fingers. “Mmm. Salmon meuniere?”

Link nodded, taking the spoon and scooping some into his mouth with a happy hum. “I found out the baby really like's it.”

“The baby has good taste I'd say,” Sidon said with a small laugh. “That's actually one of my favorite fish dishes. Especially since I was a child.”

“Did you want some?” Link asked, holding the spoon out for Sidon with a smile. The prince quickly looked at the door and then leaned down, taking the spoon into his mouth as Link still held it. Link swallowed thickly at the close proximity of the prince.

Why couldn't Sidon be the one? From being there to do the mark test with the melons Sidon was clearly unmated to anyone, as well as an alpha. What better person could he ask for? And he loved him to the ends of the earth, but Sidon didn't know that.

“Delicious. Clearly the child knows good food,” Sidon laughed as Link set the spoon back in the bowl. “Despite that this child came as a surprise to everyone, you should be proud of him or her. They also get to have you as their parent.”

Without even thinking Sidon rest a hand on Link's stomach. Link flushed but remained still. His hand was warm against his bump, bringing a sense of comfort with him.

“Sidon...about what you said back at the castle. Did you really mean that?” Link whispered, afraid to speak any louder than that. Gold eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, holding him there. A blazing sense of  protectiveness rolled off of him in waves.

“About wanting to be the one in that room with you?” Sidon asked, his voice just as low, his voice wavering a little as he spoke to him as if telling a secret. “I would be lying if I said I didn't want to be in there with you.”

“But why? Was it because I had been in heat and you had been acting out on instinct?” He wouldn't be surprised. That was how Ezra apparently found him.

“Goddess no Link,” Sidon said quickly, his other hand coming to rest against his cheek. “Link I had no idea you were an omega, I would not act upon those things just because of that like someone had back then.”

Clearly Sidon did not like Ezra.

“An act like that should be between two people who are in love,” the prince continued, shifting a little closer as his other hand stroked his stomach. “I cannot deny my feelings for you Link. I know you are marked for someone else and with his child but, I must say it. I do love you Link. Very much. So much that it hurts seeing you with him.”

Link was at a loss of words. He had known but he hadn't though the prince would actually say it out loud to him like this. So intimately...

“I-”

“But you are meant for someone else. I'm not about to steal someone else's omega,” Sidon interjected, starting to pull away. Link quickly grabbed onto the hand on his face, leaning his warm cheek into his palm.

“I may be marked, but in the end I decide who I want to be my alpha,” Link said firmly. “I did something stupid. I'm going to fix it.”

“Link...”

“Sidon, I love you.”

The prince's jaw dropped open, his cheeks rising in color against his pale scales. “Link you...you...what?”

Link stood up from the chair, his arms sliding around his neck. In the eyes of everyone else this was wrong. He was claimed. But behind these closed doors where they were the only ones there, this was their moment. Everything felt right and no one could tell them no.

“I love you,” he said again. “And I always will no matter what happens.”

Sidon smiled gently, still cradling the little bump in his hand as Link leaned forward and kissed the prince tenderly on the lips.

His breath hitched as their lips made contact, his smaller body instinctively shifting closer into his arms. Sidon's arms wrapped around him, pulling him up against his torso, arms protecting and clutching in a way he never thought he would.

Their kisses turned deeper, tongues seeking one another, grazing gently against each other. Link felt his body tremble, moaning gently against his lips. Sidon groaned softly in response, his hand clutching the back of his head, claws tenderly threading through gold locks of hair. Link gasped for breath as Sidon shifted to kissing his cheek and then to his neck, inhaling slowly. That was where he stopped with his touches, pausing as he inhaled again.

A flash of memory sparked between them. Feverish kisses, the sound of the bottle of wine clattering against the floor as Sidon pulled him flush against him just like he was now.

This wasn't their first kiss.

“We've done this before,” Sidon mumbled to him as he rose his head, his thumb coming to run over Link's bottom lip. Link nodded a little, feeling his heart beat like it was pounding in his ears. They had done this before. They had talked before about what they were. “But...what happened after that? I can't remember anything.”

Link shook his head, leaning in to kiss him again when the door to the library started to open. Sidon quickly set Link back down in the chair and stood straight, grabbing the first book off the shelf that was next to him.

“Ah, Link, there you are,” came Ezra's voice as he stepped in. He bowed his head to the prince before settling at the table, a basket covered with a towel in his hand. “Someone said they saw you come in here. Are you alright?”

“He's fine,” Sidon said, snapping the book he held shut and setting it on the table. “He told me he came in here to research Zoran children to get an idea of how to raise the little one. You should be proud, he will make a good parent.”

“That's wonderful Link. What have you learned so far?” Ezra asked, though a dark look crossed his dark green scales. “And I'm sure my mate can answer for himself.”

Sidon glared at the other Zora, the tension rising between the alphas quickly.

“I-I learned that I should eat more fish. The baby likes Salmon,” Link said, hoping to ease the tension in the room with baby talk. It helped, slightly.

“Salmon, now that's a good choice,” Ezra said, ignoring the prince as he stepped to the door, knowing right now it was a battle he couldn't win against Ezra.

“I must attend to my duties. We can catch up later Link,” Sidon said, leaving the two of them alone in the room together.

Link held back a sigh, leaning back in the chair as he looked to the man who was his alpha. He wanted to ask what he had seen that night but he was sure he had to warm up to him a little bit first. If he asked him now he may never get any answers.

“I hope you still have room for these,” Ezra said, pulling the towel off of the basket to show it full of chocolate chip muffins. Link's eyes widened at that, his mouth watering at that which caused Ezra to chuckle. He plucked one up and held it out to him as he knelt next to him.

“Cute,” he said, resting it in his hands and then cradled the stomach before him. “You must grow big and strong little one.”

Despite the touches that he gave did not feel right Link had to admit that Ezra really was just acting like an expectant father. Maybe, just maybe he could at least let Ezra be the father, but not the alpha to him. That role was assigned for Sidon if he ever got out of his mess. It would be a bit of a mess later on but he knew what his heart wanted.

Ezra lifted his head, a lopsided smile coming to his face. “I was able to have Bazz switch my shifts so I could spend more time with you. I'm glad I came when I did.”

Before Link could ask Ezra leaned forward, kissing Link slowly. Link froze at the feel. His brow furrowed as he closed his eyes tightly, kissing back slowly but he could not shake this feeling. The feeling that he was doing something wrong.

This wasn't Sidon.

Feeling the hesitation, Ezra slowly pulled back. He laid a hand on his cheek, petting it lightly It took all Link could to not flinch away from the caressing touch on his cheek. “Can I ask something of you Link?”

“I mean...sure?” he said.

“As your alpha I want to express a concern. Quite frankly I don't like the way that the prince had been staring at you. He knows that you belong to me yet he looks so..predatory. I do not want you alone with him again,” Ezra explained, his expression darkening. “Can you do that for me? Can you not be alone with him? I know he's your friend but since you came to the Domain he has been acting differently around you. I fear for you as well as our baby. Just if you are going to see him, could you at least take me or Zelda with you?”

Link's brows furrowed a bit. Was he using his status as an alpha to try to control him? That was a thing though wasn't it...He wouldn't be able to say no?

“I'm sure he means no harm-”

“Link please,” Ezra said, his expression softening. “For the sake of your safety and the safety of our child, please don't be alone with him.”

He knew for a fact though he couldn't stop seeing Sidon. But for the sake of Ezra's mind he would at least promise him, fake as it was.

“I won't,” he said to him. Ezra smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. Link clenched his eyes tightly, wishing that this was Sidon.

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[tmrmary]

rubbing salt deep in the cut

A two-week account of a witch in need of preservation

Saturday Night

“Like a kleenex - use once and throw away!”

It couldn’t have been any earlier than 2 AM. Few minutes after hooking up with a man she had picked up at the bar just down the street from her flat. Both of them laid in her bed. Yet, Danica paid no mind to his presence. She stared at the ceiling and let her mind carelessly wander to the events from earlier tonight. The shite, sorry game of Quidditch. The lush, smug meeting with the towering Broadmoor. How he had made her roar with laughter and pout with propriety all within the same conversation. These thoughts sent a shock through Danica’s chest, and in reaction, she pushed the man from out her bed, followed by a loud thump on the floor, a frail shriek from his mouth and on her command, she snapped at him. “Get out.”

Tuesday Afternoon

“Unannounced and uninvited. The nerve!”

Never in her imagination would Danica have foreseen herself at Wanda’s pristine, marble decorated home on her own accord. Here she was, willingly listening to her older sister bitch and moan on how she hadn’t previously scheduled a time to come by, and now, Wanda was left with the plate settings all uneven at the lunch table. Not to mention how Danica was teaching her nephew Clement how to conjure up licorice wands from the cabinet, when Wanda had specifically insisted on no funny business, as she had implemented a new strict only-one-candy-per-week kinda diet. 

So here Danica was, suffering through the repercussions, after she had attempted to do something - for the first time in her life - that was actually kinda selfless. However, it wasn’t long that Wanda’s sporadic fractions of lectures drove D prematurely out the door. Why did she even come by Wanda’s place in the first place? Last she remembered she sensed a pain in her chest and then found herself making small talk with the random store clerk at Quality Quidditch Supplies. What was the pit feeling she had at the bottom of her gut that just made her feel so... empty?

Saturday Night

“Screw you. I want you and your self absorbent drama out of my life, sister dear. Screw you!”

This time was much earlier than 2 AM. In fact, Danica was home much sooner than she had anticipated. The evening’s plans? A Quidditch game that’d regain the pride it lost last week and a night out in the town to cause mayhem in true twin fashion. Regardless, those plans had come to a large halt at what grew from a small, underlying tiff of tension between Danica and her sister Sloane, to a full on fallout with the person D most cared about in her life. 

As she apparated into the center of her living room, Danica tripped into her unbalanced footing only catching her balance out of reflex. Immediate as the blink of an eye, she let out a loud shriek in pure rage, firing out from the lowest inch of her gut. With her wand still in hand, she noticed the photo of her and her twin sitting on the sofa’s end table. At its instant glance, Danica threw a jarring hex at the frame, letting it shatter all over the floor. With the remains of the frame, but the photo still intact, a forceful grunt escaped her mouth and another curse fired from her wand to rip the picture apart. 

At this moment, Danica began to spit curses rapid fire from her wand around the room, first starting as quick gips that were following the remains of the photo, growing to literal fire spells that she led drag on all over her furniture. In between, you could hear her grunts intensify with every spit of exertion, growing louder with every flick of her wand, until her living room was lit up in flames. 

With one last exasperated spell, counteracting her previous hexes and partially putting out some of her fires, a blood-curdling shout released from inside Danica, sucking the energy from her body enough for her to fall onto her knees. Danica leaned against her hands, staring at the ground as she collapsed into a child’s pose. Her back remained bent over as her empty hand went to touch her face, only to find that she had somehow managed to emit a few tears in the midst of all the chaos she had created. Knowledge of this discovery only made her blood boil once again. 

Sunday Morning

“Just calling to check up on you... call me back. Love, Mum.”

Call it ‘Mother’s Intuition’, but Danica could give zero fucks for it at the moment and deleted the voicemail off her muggle phone.

Monday Morning

“There’s a message from Scamp Young-Broadmoor. He insists you get back to him by the end of the day.”

Fuck that, she thought. Then told her intern to move onto the next item on the list, with all intention that she would be ignoring the man’s advances.

Thursday Night

“... Just come by my place Thursday night, if you really need someone to talk to ...”

Junior had written to Danica practically a week ago. If he really wanted to meddle into the situation, since Wanda clearly wouldn’t speak to her face to face, then she would have to take him up on his offer.

The conversation quickly escalated, as Junior tried his very best to rationalize with his sister.

“I’m not saying Wanda and Sloane don’t have any blame in this-”

“But it is. That is what you’re saying-”

“Can you just listen to what I’m trying to say for a second?”

“No! No. You’re really that fucking spineless, Junior, that instead of choosing a side, you’d rather ride your fiancée’s fucking dick out of it and stay intact.”

“Hey. Hey! Relax, D.”

“Don’t tell me to relax!” Danica slammed her fist knuckles first into Junior’s dinner table, unaware that the wrath inside her subconsciously powered a bit of wandless magic into its punch. Now the dinner table sported a gaping hole where her fist used to be.

Half a minute of silence passed by, as they’d both had been processing how their bickering had escalated, leaving even Danica a little bit shaken up.

She stated, "This conversation is fucking useless.”

Junior could feel the anxious tension tingling through every nerve of his body. He probably wanted to cry, unsure of what to do and slightly hurt by the whole thing, so he just sighed.

“D... I’m only trying to help.”

The truth was neither one of them knew how to help the other. Danica wasn’t ready to help or be helped and Junior... well, he had a lot going on on his own. Especially after Danica mentioned Amy in retaliation, his mind had fogged up and all he wanted to do was walk away. 

Luckily, Danica had rather beat him to the punch.

“I’m gonna go. Bye.” 

Danica disapparated out of her brother’s flat and found herself now just walking blocks away down from her own. She could have immediately ended up back home, but honestly, she could use the walk.

After all, she found she really did need just a bit of time to herself... to think... Maybe it was the couple shots she took before heading to Junior’s place or the leftover anger resonating from half an hour ago. But Danica finally accepted to herself that she was hurt. She was upset. She was angry - and it might not have been mature of her, but she damn well wanted her sister to feel the same.

Not sure how one and one finally clicked inside that demented mind of hers, but Danica had come to one conclusion that night. 

She thought, Fine... I’ll have the intern call him.

[hotarutranslations]

Juice=Juice’s Kanazawa Tomoko “20 questions 20 answers” haro puro love talk!

In 2018, we’re having a celebration of the Hello! Project 20th Anniversary (Hello Love). For the members who belong to Hello! Project, their thoughts on the 20thanniversary activities and enthusiasm for 2018, thoughts of an everyday idol, we had a passionate “20 questions 20 answers” talk~ This time its Juice=Juice’s Kanazawa Tomoko!!

Kanazawa Tomoko = Born July 2nd 1995, 23 years old. Hometown Saitama. Blood type B.

Q1: Tell us the origin of your name!

My father liked Nakajima Tomoko-san who played Hotaru in the drama “From the Northern Country” (Fuji TV 81~82), so it comes from Nakajima-san’s name. He picked Tomoko, but worried over whether he should pick Hotaru, but after all he chose Tomoko.

Q2: Who is a senior you admire?

Former C-ute-san’s Suzuki Airi. Before I joined Hello! Project I supported her as a fan, and now I’m thankful to be able to call her my “senior” as I love her. After all when you speak of Suzuki Airi it’s her really pretty singing voice. I think that Suzuki Airi-san’s best weapon is that anyone would think her singing voice is nice, I want to be able to also sing in such a wonderful way.

Q3: Who would you want to be reborn as?

What should I do~! Um, Morning Musume ‘18’s Makino Maria-chan. Isn’t her style really good? I went and saw Morning Musume-san at their Nippon Budokan live,  even though I was far away I could see her style was striking, I have the impression that any costume suits her. If I were to become Maria-chan, I think I’d wear a lot of different clothes in private (laughs). For example, I could wear tight pants that I cannot wear myself, I’d also want to wear cool costumes at lives.

Q4: What are you the best at in Hello! Project?

An unbalanced diet. I’m the type that can get into anything and I’m able to eat the same thing for a whole week. It has drawbacks though (laughs), after the thing I’m into’s boom has passed, I will still only ask for that thing from the shop. I don’t think I can lose to anyone else with that, I think I’m always eating the same things. Recently, at home its butter rice (laughs). I like eating with butter and soy sauce so I’ll eat it every day.

Q5: Tell us something amazing about Hello! Project!

Everyone does their own makeup, they have image of really being skillful with their hands. I don’t really know what other idols do so I don’t have anything to compare it to but, there are members who change their hairstyle throughout one performance. I can only make it straight on my own, since I’d have to curl it or put it in twin tails on my own. That’s one thing I think is amazing about Hello! Project.

Q6: Who would you want to be in a special Hello! Project unit with?

Oh man, thinking about it is fun so its super troublesome (laughs). Recently, I’ve been into Taiyou and Ciscomoon, I like Inaba Atsuko-san’s voice. Since I also like Morning Musume ’18 Oda Sakura-san’s voice, I think it’d be fun to sing together with the two of them. I have the impression that they have sexy voices, they’d have like fakes in succession, I’d want to sing something adult-like and sexy.

Q7: Tell us a Juice=Juice song you like!

“Synchro”, it’s on the new album. The lyrics are like we’re singing about ourselves, before we show it off to everyone we feel like there is a lot of emotional attachment to the song. From the era of 5 people to 7, and now that we’ve become 8 people it has become a very meaningful song to sing. I want you to carefully listen to the lyrics.

Q8: What is Hello! Project song you like?

On C-ute-san’s album, Suzuki Airi-san’s solo “Yes! all my family”. I really like that song’s lyrics. Things that are common in everyday life, I think that its happy, I’ve thought ‘isn’t that natural?’. Since it’s a song of becoming aware of happiness, I really like it.

Q9: What is the difference between current and previous Hello! Project?

Its somehow like this, recently there is the image that we’ve become aware of the 16 beats in a song. It felt like before the choreography would be in 8 beats. Of course before the foundation was that of 16 beats, I wonder if it’s that we now pick up the sound in more detail. I think that the ‘getting into it’ is completely different from the past. The dances are completely different.

Q10: Other than yourself who is your oshi?

Tsubaki Factory’s Asakura Kiki-chan. Recently, she got a shortcut, and her freshness has increased. In any case she is always smiling, not just on stage, even backstage if you make eye contact she’ll smile and its really cute. Since you can feel energetic just by looking at her, I definitely want everyone to look at her a lot (laughs).

Q11: What do you want us to see most from yourself?

There isn’t anything like that, ah that’s right~ my shoulders (laughs). The joints in my shoulders are soft. Therefore, when I’m dancing I think there’s a part where you’ll understand it, so I’d like you to look at my shoulders. There is a normal flapping like hey hey that a bit different from everyone else. My inner muscles are a bit weak, although it feels like I’m making my shoulders a weak point. I also think they’re cute (laughs).

Q12: What is work you would like to challenge?

Since I like talking, I want to do work as a moderator or MC. This year I’ve gotten to widen my talking work.

Q13: What do you want us to see most from Juice=Juice?

Juice=Juice is a group that really loves lives. I think that the number of lives in Hello! Project is a lot but, in any case I want you to see a live. Within that everyone is conscious of their singing, ‘this song is like this’ is something we’ve recently decided to talk about, so I have the desire to make those things alive (laughs). Also the members that have said this are Takagi Sayuki-chan and Danbara Ruru-chan, listening to them sing every day is moving and wonderful anyhow. Therefore, I’d like everyone to hear those two.

Q14: What will you be doing in 20 years?

Realistically thinking, I think it’d be difficult to be active in Hello! Project (laughs). But, it’d be nice to have some kind of connection to Hello! Project after 20 years. Just being a fan supporting them would be fine, watching that era of Hello! Project would be the most ideal. If I could contribute in some way to the shape of that Hello! Project, that’s something I can vaguely imagine. Although I can’t make any particular promises (laughs).

Q15: Since it’s the 20th anniversary, tell us a secret!

I think that my fans know I’m not good with fish; I really can’t eat fish at all. I say that now but, actually recently, I was able to eat salmon. I like to have it gone through the fire a bit, but I can eat it raw also. Since it’s kind of like paccio. Ah, carpaccio (laughs). If carpaccio is available, if you haven’t tried it you should as it is very delicious. From there salmon became no problem. I just say that I’m bad with fish, I can’t really say “I’m into it”…As I didn’t think I’d say it (laughs).

Q16: After the 20th anniversary what do you want to be able to do?

I’m always thinking that I want to improve my performing but, I’ve suddenly though that it really isn’t a personal thing. I went and saw Cirque du Soleil’s “Kurios”; there was someone using a yo-yo, I thought it was something really wonderful. I wrote it on my blog, and the yo-yo performer sent me the yo-yo. Therefore, now my personal goal is to make improvement with the yo-yo. It would make me happy if I was able to show it in some sort of performance. I have about 10, but I’m in the situation where I don’t really know how to use them, but with a little progress, maybe I could show some skill. Since I got a DVD for practicing, while watching I can do a ‘walking the dog’ (laughs).

Q17: What would you be if you weren’t an idol?

Up until high school I just had an ordinary life of going to school, originally in middle school I wanted to be a civil servant. Therefore, perhaps if I had gone as normal I would have been a civil servant. My relatives aunt did clerical work at a school, and it happened to be my school. I always saw her, and I came to want to do work like that. Therefore, if I perhaps did not become an idol, I think I’d also be a school clerical worker around now.

Q18: What are you most into right now?

Its yo-yo’s but, other than that…my little sister gave me an aroma set as a birthday present. I’ve used aroma’s up until now but, now I’ve come to use them more than before. When I’m reading a book I’ll have an aroma scent; since its more healing, it’s like I’ll read and aroma therapy. It’s something trendy so I can’t talk much about it though (laughs).

Q19: Who do you get along with in Hello! Project? Tell us an episode!

The most troubling question (laughs)! Honestly I don’t do much with anyone other than the Juice=Juice members. Therefore when talking about who I get along with, I think “Is there no one?” but I feel a bit embarrassed and don’t say that (laughs). However, in terms of hanging out with a member in private Miyamoto Karin-chan is easy to invite. We’re in the same group so I know her schedule, so I don’t really have to worry about her refusing right? Therefore, if I want to see a movie I’ll often contact Karin-chan or (Takagi) Sayuki-chan, so it’s like that (laughs).

Q20: What is an idol to you?

I originally really liked idols so, my image is, a bit different than ‘you can become whoever you want as an idol’ or ‘the sense that you can go and meet them’. For example for an artist, you certainly have a strong memory of going to their lives and having an exciting time together but, with an idol it’s like idolization; to me it’s like they’re close but very far away. In this world they really have the presence of being transient. Cheering for them, there is always the worry that one day my oshimen will graduate, they really have a strong image of transience. In reality, they’ve all certainly thought of wanting to continue for a long time, this is something I think very strongly, as a fan looking at them they have a pale transient feeling, huh.

https://thetv.jp/news/detail/157645/

[jennbateman23]

Op-Ed: Are We Truly College Students at Home?

By Jennifer Bateman

Clarkson University at Potsdam, NY

Extra time at home, spare time with family, unlimited excuses to stay in bed, all the more reason to avoid social interactions – what more could an introverted college student want? I’d say exactly the opposite. Disregarding all of the obvious negatives about the recent Covid-19 pandemic, many believe that it’s allowing people much-needed time to spend with their family and relax from everyday responsibilities. I say it’s a glorified way of saying that the coronavirus is uprooting everyone's lives and throwing them into a blender (set to high speed).

When you first leave home for college, and then get sent tumbling back into the hands of mothers who don’t trust your independence, into an environment where you aren’t your own decision-maker, and into weeks without your friends who you previously spent every second with – making an adjustment is an understatement.  Throw in online classes with a course load not designed to be taught online, and a loss of every ounce of academic willpower you ever had when you were on campus, it’s a whirlwind emotions and adaptations.

After the 6-hour drive back to New Hampshire, I felt like I was in an alternate reality of my own life. When you become adjusted to an environment, especially the college environment, coming back home makes you feel like a stranger in your own bed. I catch myself saying “when I go back home” when I truly mean back to college. I am now used to spending more time with my newly made friends than with my family.

“Family time” in my household is watching television for an hour, then parting ways until we see each other again while getting a snack or going to the bathroom. I sometimes feel like I talk more to my mother when I’m in college than when I’m home. Its as though “family time” is required to be more than just sitting around and talking – a requirement of entertainment. Now that we are confined to the house, there’s this aura that since we cannot leave to do fun things, we now must make the fun at home, even if it's artificial.

I woke up from a dream a few nights ago and could have sworn that I was back in my dorm. I heard my roommate talking to me, could see the wooden frame of my twin bed, the whole works. And then I blinked and it was gone. It made me upset for two reasons.

1) I miss my roommate, my friends, and my college.

2) Why am I missing college when I am home, a place I was wishing to be when I was in college?

I’ve come up with my own explanation for the second reason – when at college, we make a glorified, picturesque version of our home as a motivator. My version of home was my queen bed, my cat, and my alarms switched off. Which, are true, but along with those are family fights, an unbalanced diet (not that I ever had a balanced one), obligatory family time, unwanted political talk, and of course, an impending virus keeping us from living a regular life. But I digress, when we are home and experiencing all of the things we forgot about, we will soon be making a glorified version of college, where the stress, hours of homework and sleepless nights are swept under the rug.

Everyone's trying their best for online classes – professors and students alike. Adapting a class that was 20 students at computers duplicating their professor’s screen isn’t so difficult (like my Data Analytics class), but for other classes, it’s hard to find intrinsic motivation when there’s a bed, a cat, and snacks calling your name. I’m happy I'm a Communication and Business major – my classes are relatively simple to convert to online. But I can only imagine people with labs or other hands-on classes where online just isn’t plausible. Nonetheless, online education is better than no education.

I’ve been trying, desperately and unsuccessfully, to recreate some aspects of college life that I had only 2 weeks ago. I bought a private gym membership, and in the last 2 weeks I've had it, I've gone 3 times. Waste of the $30 if I had any say. I tried rearranging my drawers the same way as the drawers in my dorm, but my clothes still seem to end up in one messy pile each time I get dressed in the morning (if I even put the effort into getting dressed at all). Spring break was so uneventful that I actually got my statistics homework done early (who enjoys doing statistics on a break?).

I’ve come to the conclusion that I simply cannot clone college life. And there are two reasons for that:

1) Clarkson, and many other colleges, makes an environment fit for the college student. It doesn’t have the same distractions at home – pets, family, a queen-sized bed.

2) It's not meant to be replicated. If everyone could have the college experience no matter where they were, it wouldn’t be such as cherished. Having it suddenly taken away in March instead of May makes me miss it a million times more. And if I had the power, I would do anything I could to make anything back to normal again. But I'm not sure if everything will go exactly how it was.  I’d bring my bed and my cat.

[soartfullydone]

A Deal of Knives and Ash

I posted this first chapter of my self-insert ACOTAR AU about a year ago and just wanted to update it with new canon names, characters, and the like. But if you’re reading this expecting Book 2 and 3 stuff, don’t. I’m ignoring all of that and writing about actual Fae stuff now. Book 1 characterizations or bust.

Melody could say, with utmost certainty, that she despised the Children of the Blessed. She wouldn't even be in her current position if it weren't for them, wouldn't even be in Prythian of all places. If she hadn't needed somewhere to go, if the timing had been just a little different, if they hadn't caught her so lost and desperate.

If she hadn't been so desperate to begin with. Children of the Blessed. Melody scoffed. Children of the Cow-eyed Fools was more like it. 

She wished she could say the same of her faerie masters, but after spending close to a year in their company, Melody found they were neither cow-eyed nor foolish. Instead of being the merciful, benevolent gods their idolaters promised, they were cruel, capricious, and unforgiving. They were also unfailingly arrogant, and as much as their behavior irritated her, it also worked to her advantage. Still, she despised the Fae with equal fervor behind her mask of cool indifference. All save one. "Quick! Don't fall behind now!" a faerie with skin of gnarled wood and tendrils of tiny leaves for hair half-hissed, half-barked at her. "I thought we were trying for discretion. I'm right here, Lyra. No need to shout." "You picture me for a fool? I know how you like to wander." Lyra grabbed her gently by the wrist, not letting Melody leave her side. "Cauldron boil me! The drums have already started." "You sure no one will mess with the horses?" Melody glanced back to where they were left tethered, barely discernible in the darkness. "I'm not worried about the horses. They can take care of themselves." "Implying that I can't?" Melody’s lips quirked to the side wryly. "I was asking more for escape plans than anything." Lyra laughed under her breath. "Of course. I should have known." They ascended a sloping hill, crouching low to peer over its crest at their surroundings. Bonfires were scattered across the dark green landscape like stars and gathered around them were faeries—so many faeries—both High Fae and otherwise. Melody's eyes strained as she took them all in, her senses assaulted as she saw through glamour after glamour. A pounding started in her head, matching the beat of the drums in the distance. "We can always go back." Lyra's voice was kind and deliberate. "I shouldn't have brought a human here, and on Calanmai of all days. It was a mistake." Melody smoothed her scowl of pain into a steady, impassive mask. "I'm fine. Besides, we had to come, and I didn't ride for five days, earning myself a sore ass, for nothing."

"Just don't get discovered, or else you'll be wishing a sore ass was the worst of your problems." Lyra's eyes trailed guiltily to Melody's back, where they both knew a wicked scar rested along a shoulder blade. Melody pretended not to notice. With a huff, Lyra straightened her spine, businesslike. She leveled a cool stare at her mortal friend. "Let's run through it once more." Melody nodded. "You gather information on the Spring Court for the little lordlings while I find our favorite plant." "And remember: pull the root. It's useless otherwise." “It’ll be a full-grown tree here, though, right? Not the measly shrub we have.” Melody grinned. "Are you sure you're not just saying that because you love to eat the roots?" "Because everyone knows that all faeries have a steady diet of roots, twigs, and berries. Don't sass me, mortal." Lyra swatted her playfully before making eye contact and holding it. "Listen to me. I used the last of the blossoms to mask your scent, but your body's grown used to it. It's weaker now. Up close, anyone will be able to faintly smell your humanness, enough to make them look at you twice. Don't let that happen. Do not make eye contact or speak to anyone. Keep moving. The night's festivities should distract them." "Should?" Melody whispered back, finally feeling trepidation coil like a viper in her stomach. "Is the Spring Court's Fire Night like Autumn's?" "It used to be worse, but the new High Lord is very different from his father. The crowd, however, is still relatively untamed. And there are many beings here who shouldn't be." The pair watched the crowd shift, more and more Fae gravitating towards a cave entrance in the distance, away from the estate. The drums pounded louder, more urgently. Melody felt the pull, but steeled herself. Resisted. It was only magic, nothing she hadn't encountered before at the Autumn Court. Slowly, the crowd before them began to thin out. It was as safe to descend as it would ever be. Lyra spoke as Melody threw her cloak's hood over her hair, shielding her features. "Go back to the horses when you're done. If I finish first, I'll wait for you there." "So long as the High Lord of the Spring Court doesn't select you as his Maiden." Melody's voice slid out teasingly. Lyra elbowed her in retaliation. "You're so funny. Have I told you how funny you are? Next time my Lord Beron requires a court jester for entertainment, I'll send you his way." "Oh, but I'd hate to take that position away from his sons." Melody sobered as she looked over at her faerie guide. "Be careful down there, Lyrie." Lyra smiled fondly at the nickname. "You, too, dear one. May the Blessed Mother grant us good fortune tonight." Together, they rose and walked down the hill, the faerie heading toward the crowd congregating at the mouth of the cave, and the human toward the gardens of the Spring Court estate. The latter did not get far.

It was worse up close. The drums seemed to pound into her very soul, calling to her, determining even how her heartbeat pulsed. For every step Melody took towards the Spring Court estate, she seemed to take two steps back toward the cave and the faeries waiting there.

Cheap faerie tricks, she groused, once again shaking herself from whatever hypnosis the drums and the magic in the air stirred within her. She’d handled worse. Even with the headache, she would still keep it handled. She had a mission to complete. They couldn’t return to the Autumn Court without at least the flowers from the plant. Melody could’ve laughed to herself at the irony, for it was the Flowering Ash that kept her identity as a human secret from even the sharp-eyed nobility of the Autumn Court. No wonder the Fae had burned all the human’s ash trees across the border; too much of it could be used against them.

But while the Autumn Court’s Flowering Ash tree was small, wilted, and thoroughly harvested, it was said that the Spring Court harbored their own deep in the gardens, behind a stone wall, and that tree was large and thriving still.

Melody pulled herself from her musings, only to find in her distraction that she’d wandered—not toward the gardens—but toward the cave entrance yet again. Cursing, she spun on her heel, ignoring her muggy thoughts and the hostile eyes she felt on her when a voice like liquid velvet spoke in her ear.

“Oh, my. Imagine a mortal all the way out here on Calanmai. Are you trying to be part of the buffet?”

And despite Lyra telling her otherwise, Melody turned to look at who spoke, at who had seen through her deception, felt compelled to do so. Behind her, standing far too close, was a Fae who was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. Seeing through his glamour, Melody was mentally slammed with the sight of his true form, of the pale skin that shown as bright as moonlight, of the eyes that glowed like blue-violet stars, of the tendrils of darkness that seemed as much a living part of him as his growing grin.

To give herself some peace, she willed herself to be taken in by his glamour, but the moment she did, she felt adrift. The magic around her was too much, too alluring. She had a beautiful stranger before her, and she didn’t want to leave.

No. No, that wasn’t right. She needed to leave. Now.

“Not hardly,” she answered him, despite everything telling her to run and run fast. She edged around him, aware of how they both followed the other’s movements. “Besides, I’m certain I’m not to anyone’s…taste.”

Take the hint. Walk away from the evasive, flighty girl.

The stranger took a step forward, and Melody swore it was a prowl, made worse when he smiled at her. “And a presumptuous one, too. There are all sorts here, you know.”

An alarm went off in Melody’s head about what he said, but before she could deduce why, she felt herself trip on something. The stranger readily caught her by the arm.

“Ah, mind that root—there we are. Since I already have your arm, I might as well escort you around, don’t you think?” It was less a question and more a seduction.

Though upright, Melody still felt unbalanced. That root had not been there. He hadn’t even been close enough to grab her, and then suddenly he was.

Normally, she would pull away from him immediately, except she noticed one very important thing. While she remained in this Fae’s sphere of influence, the other faeries who watched her with their keen eyes, gleaming smiles, and gnarled features gave them both a wide berth.

“Oh, yes, I suppose you might as well,” she replied flippantly. Feeling uncharacteristically combative, she muttered under her breath, full well knowing he could hear, “Though I doubt you’re concerned with what I think.”

His condescending smile was answer enough. Melody took in the shadows around him, how even with the glamour he still simultaneously blended into the night and bent it to his will. “So what sort are you?”

“What sort, she asks?” He laughed, and it wasn’t kind. The sound sent a rush of heat through her the same time it chilled her heart. “Do you want me to sit you down and tell you the Cauldron story, or shall you figure it out like a clever little girl?”

She might have tried to trip him while they walked. What was wrong with her? She never attempted this kind of behavior with the Fae of the Autumn Court. Never.

“I think you’re the ‘answers questions with a question’ sort.” She narrowed her eyes at him, saying with finality, “Night Court.” It was obvious by his state of dress alone, but as for the kind of Fae he was…

Because she wanted to wipe that smirk from his face, she said, “Perhaps you’re an elf, it would certainly explain your rudeness. Or a Banshee with how your voice is grating on my nerves. Or maybe you’re some manner of wisp or spirit designed to lead me astray. Or perhaps…”

An idea flashed in her mind. Could he be High Fae? If he were, he would have killed her by now. She dismissed the idea immediately, because humoring the alternative caused her need to flee to be almost unbearable. Because if he was, and he hadn’t killed her for her disrespect, then that would mean that he was planning worse…

“Or perhaps you’re nothing so impressive at all.” Melody wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

“Or perhaps,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I’m something much, much better.” He pulled back from her, and the smirk returned, his eyes flashing with something mischievous and cruel. “In any case, you better hope so. Otherwise, these revelers might be tempted to get a bit too greedy with you.”

Aren’t you being a bit too greedy with me?

Aloud, she said, “They certainly seem to think you’re something. They’re staring but not coming any closer.” The stranger, for all his threats, walked with her with his lean frame between her and the other faeries. He wasn’t drawing her farther into the revelry, but neither was he leading her completely out of it.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked, trying to mask her features back to indifference.

“Would you bolt if I said somewhere private?” He hummed, finding amusement in something she couldn’t quite perceive. “No, I am escorting you away from becoming the snack table.”

The niggling suspicion—of something not being right with the conversation—bothered her.

“How generous of you.” She smiled, and it was all teeth. “But why? What do you want? I’ve never known your kind to do anything for free.”

Not even Lyra had taken her under her wing solely out of the goodness of her heart. The scar on her back attested to that fact.

“Oh, can it be? You’re not entirely ignorant? Half an education is a charming thing.” His eyes glinted with mirth, and Melody resisted the urge to stab them. “Since you ask, no, we rarely do anything for free, and I especially don’t see the point in it. Be assured I will be bringing this up later,” he ended with a satisfied purr.

Melody dug her heels in, twisting her wrist out of his grip. Brief surprise may have flickered across his face, but amusement quickly followed as he took in her defiant stance, the one that said she wasn’t moving, not without significant force.

“No. I asked for nothing from you. And quid pro quo is something I only humor with friends.”

She didn’t know this stranger well, but she sensed that she’d finally angered him. A long pause settled over their conversation. Then, he moved, but her senses blurred. Was he stepping closer or drifting?

“Oh? You’d rather I demand something of you right now?”

“I’d rather have a choice. It’s more gratifying that way.”

The human stayed steady, with considerable effort. Her smile held no warmth or humor. She knew the gossip, and what was the point in knowing if she didn’t use it? “Is that what you have to do? Force your company on people? The Night Court is feared, but not exactly loved, is it?”

He ignored her jibes and stalked closer. “Choices are not for girls who come to Calanmai.”

It was time to leave.

“What a convincing lie! I’m impressed,” she said with false delight. “But you always have a choice, and I’m always up for challenging convention.”

She turned from him, fully intending to walk, not run, to the Spring Court estate, ready to show any faerie pursuer just how vicious a human girl could be on Fire Night. Above all, she didn’t care if the beautiful Night Court bastard followed her or not.

He let her go.

But his voice called after her from writhing shadows, dripping with caresses and amusement once more. “All by yourself? Does that mean I should come back later for seconds?”

“I don’t care what you do. But the fact that you think there’s going to be something left of me after all is positively moving.”

She broke away from her stalking shadow, discreetly feeling for the weapons Lyra had given her, and ran through the conversation in her head. Something still bothered her about the whole thing, something he’d said early on. When she recalled the part where he called her “presumptuous, too,” she came to a halt, realizing.

That Fae could read her thoughts.

And he’d gotten in when she’d accepted his glamour.

The knowledge froze her to her bones, like being held under ice water. But her mind sharpened at last. The spell of Fire Night and her headache vanished as she refused to be fooled, as she closed the door to her mind, a door not made from solid iron, but of mighty ash.

Proud, she turned her head and found a spot where the shadows appeared darker. She snarled in its direction then marched away.

Despite what the stranger implied, no other faerie crossed her path. Lyra had been right.

The night’s activities proved to be far worthier distractions.

"Gathering these on Calanmai turned out to be a good thing, even if seeing Lucien almost gave me a heart attack," Melody noted one morning in Lyra's quarters. "One plant lasts us for four weeks. And it's more potent." Lyra bustled around, still getting ready for the day ahead. "I bet that was a fright, but none of the young masters have any reason to visit Spring. Only the disgraced son. I’m not even certain if they would survive it. But it'll be good once we host our own Fire Night. The plants will be restored, and we can harvest our own supply again. No need to go back to the Spring Court." Melody caught the edge of trepidation in her voice. "I told you to stop worrying. That Fae isn't going to suddenly be lurking around a corner to snatch me away. He doesn't know what court I'm from. We didn't even exchange names." "That's what's worrying me. The way you described him, on top of him being Night Court of all things." Before Melody could reassure her, another faerie poked his head into Lyra's room. "We need someone to send a tea tray up." "Fine," Lyra sighed, rolling her eyes skyward. The faerie vanished, and Lyra gestured to Melody. "I should have never let you make the tea that day. She can't get enough of it. Well? Why are you still here? You know what to do." She did. Prepare the tea the way the Lady of the Autumn Court liked, deliver the tray unseen to her rooms, and come straight back. Nothing more. "How do I look?" Melody asked, wanting to make sure her disguise was properly in place. "Hmm." Lyra gazed at her haphazard appearance critically, then promptly scooped up a layer of dust and dirt from the floor and smacked Melody in the face with it. The human flinched back, sputtering and coughing as a satisfied smile curved Lyra's lips. "There. No one will want to look at you now." A final cough escaped Melody. "Thanks very much."

A few months later, Melody woke up on her small, makeshift cot in Lyra's quarters alone. Not unusual. Lyra sometimes had to manage the kitchen staff earlier in the mornings than her typical schedule called for. But there was something different about this morning, something wrong. It was too quiet. Tentatively, Melody slowly uncoiled herself and rose. Rotating her stiff joints, she made her way over to the entrance and leaned out of the doorway, taking in the corridor on either side. Empty. Not a single faerie came or went, and the air was dead. No magic to be sensed. The human didn't know what time it was, having no windows to consult on the matter, but it felt later than usual. Certainly later than Lyra ever allowed her to sleep in. She turned back to Lyra's rooms, shut the door, and walked over to the small table where they took their meals. That's when she saw the hastily scrawled note written in Lyra's curvy hand. Melody snatched it from the table, her worry cascading into a heart-racing fear as she read: It's finally happened. The fifty years are up, and the Spring Lord did not break his curse. She's decided to call us to her. All of the courts have been summoned Under the Mountain. I do not know why or when we will return, if we will return. I’m sorry I did not wake you, but I didn’t want you involved, and everything is happening so fast. Take the rest of the Flowering Ash and flee—as far as you can. Travel by daylight, cross the border, and go south. She means only death for you and your world. I'm so sorry.

All she felt was cold. Amarantha, the Deceiver, had actually won. Prythian was fully under her control, just like the lordlings had wanted.

Melody clenched the note in her hand, fell back into her cot, and tried not to panic.

It wasn’t working.

No, she had to think. Assess. It took five days to get to the heart of the Spring Court by horse, another three days to reach the border from there. And then she would have to find an opening, and there was no knowing how long that would take if she wound up near a part of the Wall without a breach. Melody only had a week left on her current batch of lotion before it would be used up. She would need to make more. She’d watched Lyra make it from the flowers and bark of the Flowering Ash tree (while eating any roots that could be harvested) dozens of times.

Melody remained in the Autumn Court for another three weeks, and she still hadn’t perfected it. In fact, the concoction never turned out right at all.

A month passed. Then another. By the end of the second month, she’d given up on making the lotion from the Flowering Ash, having already ruined most of the flowers. No one ever came or went into the Court, and Melody became braver and braver, roaming into the nobility’s rooms, stealing weapons, food, clothes, anything she needed before returning to the sanctuary of Lyra’s quarters in the lower levels. Every morning she woke up, she told herself that this would be the day she would leave, that she would brave the wilds of Prythian, that with everyone Under the Mountain, there would be no safer time.

She stayed for another month, convinced that Lyra would return and that things would return to normal.

And return, the Autumn Court did, but it wasn’t Lyra who found her.

It was the Eldest Son.

Eris.

He found her outside at one of the training grounds. Melody hadn’t run three steps before he was upon her, hoisting her in the air by the throat.

“What is more human filth doing here?”

She gasped for air, unable to answer, unable to explain, or beg, or whatever she had to do to save her life. He wasn’t built like a mountain, but he held her in the air effortlessly. He threw her down to the ground like a ragdoll.

Melody tried to crawl away, to get to her feet, but he planted a foot on her back and held her, crushed her, in place. She didn’t dare move when she heard a blade being drawn, didn’t react when he spoke again.

“This seems familiar.” His tone was cruelly nostalgic, like he was recalling a fond memory.

The scar on her back seemed to burn. Despite everything, it gave her the courage to speak.

“Please. I don’t—”

A blade slashed down, grazing her cheek the same time another voice cried out.

“My Lord, please have mercy!”

Lyra.

Melody heard more than saw Lyra appear and throw herself at Eris’ feet, could barely make out the faerie’s explanations through the rushing in her ears.

She jumped, though, when she heard the slap and felt the dust kick up when Lyra hit the ground next to her.

They were attracting an audience. Autumn Court faeries were murmuring, some laughing. She heard one say, “Another human? It’s an infestation.” Then came a retort. “But we wouldn’t be back home if it weren’t for—”

The faerie was silenced when Eris hurled a knife into his gut. The rest of the faeries took that as their cue to leave. When the area cleared and all that could be heard was Lyra’s sobs and Melody’s own stilted breathing, that’s when Melody knew through the cotton in her mind. Both she and Lyra were going to die here.

Very shortly.

Before Eris could deal out his punishment, a mocking laugh as dark as midnight and as smooth as silk broke the silent tension. Melody finally felt her numbed shock give way to shuddering fear at last.

She knew that laugh.

“What a sight. Did you know I was coming, that you prepared a little show for me?”

“Now is not a good time, Lord Rhysand.” Eris’ controlled posture slipped into acute rigidness. It took a moment to realize that he wasn’t fearful, but angry. “If you’re here to see my father, I’m afraid he has yet to return to court.”

The beautiful stranger, the one she had met at the Spring Court, the one she had once sworn would never find her, appeared in her line of vision. Tendrils of darkness still coiled around him, blending in with his dark, fitted, resplendent clothes, and though he gave the same cool smile, Melody knew there was something different about him.

She couldn’t explain it, but he seemed freer. Power rolled off of him, like his body could no longer contain it. He was utterly relaxed and unquestionably invincible.

Like nothing could touch him and live.

She hadn’t detected this from him before. He had felt dangerous, certainly, but this was something entirely different.

What had happened during those three months Under the Mountain?

“As it turns out, you’re the one I’m looking for.” Though the stranger—Rhysand—spoke to the Eldest Son, he turned his gaze on Melody.

Eris did the same. “Human vermin found its way into my court.” He sneered at Lyra. “And this traitor helped.”

“I see. Now how could that be when the Autumn Court is so well-guarded?”

Melody felt Rhysand’s gaze on her, and she willed her mind blank, willed anything anyway that could incriminate Lyra further. Risking a glance at him, she saw his brows furrow with sudden surprise. His gaze flicked to Lyra, and by the grimace on her face, Melody knew Rhysand had been successful with reading the faerie’s mind.

But not hers.

“Flowering Ash,” Rhysand announced, half-surprised, half-intrigued. “They created an ointment to mask her human scent, then masqueraded her as a servant.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“A year and a half.”

Eris laughed, and its mirth promised nothing good. “What clever rats we have. I can only hope you’re as clever with your screams.” He pressed harder into Melody’s back until she cried out. “I admit, I’ve been in a terrible mood lately. Perhaps this is just what I need. Permitted, of course, that the High Lord of the Night Court allows me such an indulgence before we discuss business?”

High Lord of the Night Court? Melody thought dazedly, her despair mounting with each passing second. All that time, she had been talking with…?

And he hadn’t killed her, which meant he was planning something worse.

“By all means. Only—wait a moment.” Rhysand crouched down in front of Melody and forced her to look up at him with a hand under her chin. Her muscles and spine strained, close to breaking. She watched those sensuous lips curve, watched as something worse formed itself in his violet eyes. “Mmm, I thought so. I was hoping we’d run into each other again, love.”

“Why am I not surprised that you know this human? You seem to know all the mortal women lately, my lord.” No one could miss the accusation in Eris’ voice.

“Blame that love-struck fool, Tamlin. He seems to draw them. I met her at Spring’s Fire Night, only now I know why she was really there.” He smiled at her, and it was slightly wild. Melody recoiled back, but his hand grasping her face squeezed, holding her in place. “And it seems I can finally collect my debt for saving you, can’t I?”

He released her and stood in a smooth motion, facing the Eldest Son. “I don’t care what you do with your traitor, but the human belongs to me.”

The amusement died on his face, replaced by cold fury. “You cannot be serious.”

“You dare question a High Lord of Prythian? A High Lord restored of all his powers, no less?” Rhysand’s laugh was a rumble of dark promise. “I wouldn’t.”

Eris stared the High Lord down, then kicked Melody in the side, like a spoiled child does a toy after being told he has to share. “Have her, then.”

Rhysand looked bored with the whole display, but the line of his shoulders had gone taut. He watched dispassionately as Melody rose on her side on one hand, her eyes only on her faerie friend.

“But Lyra—”

“Don’t worry about me,” the faerie hissed back, her eyes dry now that it appeared Melody wouldn’t die by Autumn hands. Though her dark skin was much paler.

And because it seemed worse to go with the High Lord of the Night Court than to die by one of the Autumn Lord’s sons, Melody cried out, “I will take it!”

The grounds froze. Melody felt every eye on her. “Whatever punishment you intend to give Lyra, I’ll take it all.”

Behind her, Rhysand heaved a sigh. Lyra called her a fool. But Eris considered her thoughtfully. Then he smiled.

“It seems we’ve reached an interesting situation, Lord Rhysand.”

“More like an idiotic one.” He waved a careless hand. “Her life belongs to me. Death is off the table. But exile is obvious.”

“Obviously.” Eris didn’t roll his eyes, but he looked like he wanted to.

Rhysand appeared to ponder something, then he said, “Five lashes should do nicely.”

“We’re agreed.”

And Melody watched in horror as a whip appeared in Eris’ hand, did nothing as he hauled her to her feet only to tie her by the wrists to a post in the center of the grounds. She jerked in fear when she felt him rip the back of her tunic in half, revealing her undergarments and her scar.

“Ah, I thought so. We’ve punished this one before.” He looked back at Lyra, a knowing glance. “The way it’s curved here. Wayward. Like it reached an unintended target. She took that for you, didn’t she? That’s why you sheltered her. Why you betrayed your court.”

Lyra, who was now on her feet, clenched her fists, the muscles of her arms protruding slightly. Melody had always believed that Lyra was a warrior at one time. It was only her discipline that held her back.

Melody faced forward as Eris’ footsteps receded. Her back was to the three other occupants on the grounds. She tried to control her shaking. She failed. So she tried to clear her mind, but memories of her first scar resurfaced with a vengeance. She’d gotten it from the High Lord’s second son, who’d been drunk on his own cruelty, punishing servants as it pleased him. Phantom pain rippled down her scar, and no matter how she lied to herself, she couldn’t believe that the next five lashes would hurt less.

So she tried to withdraw into herself, to go to a place so deep in her mind that she wouldn’t register the pain.

She failed. When the first lash tore diagonally across her back, she nearly fell to her knees, her screams echoing across the grounds. The second slash occurred a hair’s breadth away from the first, and she collapsed, her legs unable to hold her. Tears fell like a torrent down her face, and she nearly tore her throat with her scream when the third slash crossed the other two.

All of it was deliberate. He was aiming to cause as much pain as possible, to make the healing process as difficult as possible.

The fourth slash cut down her lower back, and the fifth followed close behind, tracing the outline of her old scar, reopening it. It hurt so badly she forgot to scream, didn’t have a voice left to scream with. Her body, her pants, everything felt soaked with blood. The ropes bit into her wrists as she hung limply from them, but she didn’t feel it. It was nothing compared to the fire that raged all over her back.

Just as she relaxed and felt like congratulating herself on weathering the punishment, the whip snapped into the air and a sixth slash was cut deep into her, and Melody found that she could still scream.

“That was six, by my count.” Rhysand’s voice cut through the air, somehow even sharper than the whip could ever hope to be.

“Forgive me, Lord Rhysand. I must have gotten carried away.”

Melody felt a brief flair of smugness as Rhysand dismissed him—in his own court, no less—when movement at her wrists caused her to lift her head. She found Lyra there, tearing through the ropes. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was hoarse. Lyra shushed her, shaking her head.

“Can’t believe you did that. Fool! What were you thinking? You and your stubborn, human heart. Idiots, both of you!”

One of her wrists fell free then the other, and Melody found herself falling forward, unable to find the strength to stop. Lyra caught her by the shoulders. Melody felt her hands tense and could only surmise that Rhysand had approached.

“That was quite a spectacle. I’d forgotten how fun humans could be.”

“Please, Lord Rhysand! Show some godforsaken mercy and heal her!”

Rhysand tutted. “You know how this works, Lyra, dear. She must agree to my terms first.”

“She’s barely conscious!”

“All the more reason to make her decision quickly. These wounds didn’t kill when they were inflicted, as agreed, but they will if remained untreated.”

Melody raised her head and rested her forehead against the post. Half delirious, she mumbled, “What decision?”

“For saving your life on Calanmai, your life belongs to me now, to do with as I wish. You can either live in my court as you did here, nothing more than a slave—” He cut himself off with a laugh. “Excuse me, a servant. Or you can live almost like an equal. All I would need from you in exchange is for you to perform some tasks for me, whenever I ask, without question.”

Melody fought to follow him. Still the fire on her back burned, reminding her the clock was ticking. “What kind of tasks? And what use could you have for human vermin, anyway?”

“I don’t know about human vermin, but perhaps I have use for a girl who can see through glamours, resist faerie magic, and live among them for over a year without detection. The thought of all you must have heard while here, where they thought you were one of them, where they thought you were loyal. The possibilities are delicious.”

“…For how long?”

He picked a stray piece of lint off his jacket. “Until I grow bored with you.”

His face—his beautiful, merciless face—swam in her vision. He’d given her answers, which only gave her more questions. But one thing was clear, at least to her.

“Lyra comes, too.”

A flash of teeth. “Of course.”

“Not as a servant. As a guard or—or whatever she wants, so long as it’s her decision.”

Lyra clutched her tighter in warning, but the damage was done.

“Such care you have for each other. One would almost say you were lovers.”

Melody would later blame the pain. “It’s called a best friend, you patronizing jackass.” Lyra sucked in a breath, but Rhysand only laughed.

“So, do we have a deal?”

Melody would have drawn it out, just to make him work for it, but the pain was too great. “Yes.”

“Wonderful,” he purred, then his hand spread across her back. Melody threw her head back and screamed as her pain reached new heights. It felt like all of her wounds were being ripped open wide, like he was filling them to the brim with salt. Then, they were knitting themselves back together, slowly, the creeping, unnatural feeling almost as terrible as the pain itself. Then it was over.

“I do believe this is my best work yet,” Rhysand said, languid with satisfaction.

Melody opened her eyes and felt a drop of sweat fall from her face as she craned her neck to see what he was talking about.

The tops of her shoulders no longer sported white, unblemished skin. Whorls and sharp lines resembling Flowering Ash blossoms and knife blades rested there in dark navy ink, and Melody could only assume her whole back featured the rest of the design. Reaching behind her, she determined that she had no scars—even her old one had been completely healed.

The human felt like she was out of her body, like she was observing her life’s events from someone else’s eyes. Disjointed, detached, she watched Lyra kneel and swear an oath of fealty to the Night Court and its High Lord, demanding instant death if she wavered. A tattoo spread, covering the palm of her right hand after her pledge, sealing the contract.   Lyra exchanged a glance with Melody as the young woman rose to stand beside her, the latter clutching her torn tunic across the front of her body. Not even phantom pains disturbed her. In truth, Melody didn’t feel anything at all. Was she in shock again?

“Come.” Rhysand turned on his heel, expecting them to follow. “It’s time to return to my court. I’ve been away from home for far too long.”

“Can’t we stop for—”

“No,” Rhysand interrupted Lyra. “We cannot. Now, stand close to me.”

Melody watched as pure darkness spread from Rhysand’s feet and quickly climbed higher, soon covering all of them. They were pulled under, and Melody drew back, taking in a quick breath when total darkness blocked out every shred of light that there was. She flinched when she felt a cool hand on the small of her bare back, but Rhysand didn’t remove it. Instead, he began tracing the lines of her tattoo.

It didn’t reassure her. Instead, she kept thinking about what her tasks could possibly entail, what the feel of his hand touching her so familiarly could potentially promise.

Until I grow bored with you.

When the shadows fell, they were somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere dark, but wholly, unquestionably beautiful.

“Welcome to the Night Court,” Rhysand breathed into her ear, pride coating every syllable of his voice.

Melody took in the palace before her, the snow-capped mountains, and the gorgeous starry sky all spread out like a panorama around them, and agreed that Rhysand had much to be proud of.

The Autumn Court, for all its splendor, never stole her breath like this.

As they entered the palace, Rhysand turned to Lyra.

“You’re dismissed.”

She straightened, threw one last glance at Melody, then strode away. Melody watched her, wondered how she knew where to go. Before she could ask, two shadows broke from a dark corner and coiled toward them. When the shadows reached them, they took the forms of two women. Were these Rhysand’s servants? His shadow harem?

“Take this one upstairs. Get her cleaned and dressed.” Rhysand pushed Melody forward towards them.

She wheeled around, still holding what was left of her tunic. “This one?” She glared at him. “You offer me a deal, and you don’t even know my name?”

Rhysand shrugged, like it didn’t matter, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I forgot to ask. Very well, what’s your name, darling?”

She stayed stonily silent.

His lifted a brow, and she could tell he was frustrated. “Fine, then. If you don’t want to tell me your name, I’ll just have to call you my pet.”

“It’s Melody.”

“Mmm.” He moved toward her with effortless grace, viewing her with half-lidded eyes. “Melody.” Rhysand said it with the kind of reverence lovers reserved for each other, like suddenly it was the only word that mattered. Chills erupted down her spine, down her arms. She told herself it was because she was standing in a palace resting on top of a snowy mountain, at night, and she was half-naked. “I think I still prefer ‘my pet.’ ”

Melody glared at him until the shadow servants dragged her away, his mocking laugh following her.

Honestly, she’d had better baths. The shadow servants weren’t what she’d call tender.

But she would gladly go back to the harshest bathing of her life if it meant that she didn’t have to wear this dress.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That is the rest of it,” one of the servants hissed at her in a disembodied voice.

Melody scowled. “That bastard.”

“Do not address the High Lord so disrespectfully,” the servant snapped again. “You have no idea what he has done for his people.”

“I’m just calling it as I see it.”

Her dress had been designed to cover the bare minimum of the parts most important to her. The front was short, stopping mid-thigh, only for the back to gently flow down to her calves. Her breasts were half-heartedly covered with straps that thinned to tie around her neck. Naturally, the dress was backless, displaying the tattoo, which did cover her entire back for all to see. On top of everything, the color of the dress was a deep wine red, rounding off the harlot look for her quiet nicely.

‘’I want to go to bed,” she groused.

“You must attend the party,” the second servant hissed back, for the third time. “The court has come to celebrate our lord’s return.”

So Rhysand’s court was going to see her, the High Lord’s newest, mortal plaything, like this. Swell.

She took one last look in the mirror, at her long, brown hair spilling over her shoulders, the dark makeup, the dress, the ridiculously high shoes, and straightened her spine, holding her head high.

“Let’s get this over with.”

When she rejoined Rhysand, he was in the ballroom, where more servant girls were flitting about, setting up a line of covered carts on wheels. Melody hoped that’s where the food would be, if there was food. Rhysand conversed with two other Fae. The first was a dark-haired, clean-cut male with an expression that only seemed to move from serious to more serious. Melody blinked at the impressive, leathery wings he had tucked close to his back. Was that…a normal feature here? Perhaps not, for the stunning blonde woman next to him was wingless, though she did possess an ever-present smirk on her face that was endearing until one met her sharp brown eyes. It reminded her of another certain infuriating smirk.

The conversation stopped when she entered the room. Melody pretended not to notice how Rhysand took her in, almost appreciatively, like he was preening. She was much more interested with the reactions of the Fae male, who closed his eyes as if praying for deliverance, and the woman, who hid her smile behind her hand, never taking her eyes from Melody.

Well, she supposed, in a few years, this would all be funny to her, too.

“Azriel,” Rhysand said to the male. “Mor.” The female Fae inclined her head. “I’d like you to meet the Night Court’s newest asset. The girl who can resist magic: Melody.”

Melody nodded her head but said nothing, assessing them just as they were assessing her.

Finally, Azriel said, “You can’t read her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Not yet. She’s blocking me somehow,” Rhysand replied, smirking. “But I’ll find her weakness soon enough.”

Melody snorted. “Good luck with that, Your Worship.”

“Your Worship?” Mor let out a delighted laugh, turning to Rhysand, whose grin had spread at Melody’s mocking title. “Oh! This is going to be so much fun, Rhys.”

Rhys?

Melody wrinkled her nose in mild disgust. “You know what would be fun? Returning to matters of state,” Azriel said, moving to ignore Melody entirely. Good.

She needed a breather.

The pounding in her head was starting again. There were faeries here, all over the palace. She could sense them. They just weren’t allowed into the ballroom yet. She knew she should be listening to the conversation, but in truth, she was tired, so tired. Melody kept her gaze settled on a spot just before her, not really seeing anything. Not wanting to see anything. Everything felt scrubbed raw, especially her mind, and every new sound, smell, or sight that involved a faerie had her nearly on the ground. Melody knew the signs well, having experienced it before at the Autumn Court and at Spring's Fire Night. Over-stimulation from all the glamours and magic in the air. And the Night Court was so much bigger, so much more populated, especially now that their High Lord had returned. Briefly, Melody considered giving in for a moment, dampening her will to allow the glamours and spells the faeries so desperately wanted to fool her with to do their work. But then, Rhysand laughed at something Mor said, the sound sliding over her nerves like velvet, and she knew she couldn't. If the force of her will wavered, even for a moment, he would know. He would see everything, why she had even come to faerie lands in the first place, and would be able to discern her thoughts again, maybe worse. And he was much stronger now. Just as she was about to beg Rhysand to let her leave and rest, a series of movements across the room caught her eye, moving separately from the natural energy of the room. Two of the shadowy servant girls wheeled yet another cart, this one also covered with a sheet, on the end of what she still took to be a banquet. More shadows appeared from nothing, and at once, they began removing the covers. Though there hadn't been anything there before, the cart's surfaces flat, as soon as the sheets were removed, mountains of food appeared. Once more, the last cart the servants had wheeled in caught her eye, and Melody couldn't stop her gasp, welcoming the sudden burst of energy at the sight of— "A cheese cart!"

Food. Without even thinking, without even remembering who she was with or where she was, Melody slipped away from Rhysand to begin her journey to happiness. 

From beside him, Rhysand heard her gasp and exclamation and tilted his head to find the human's face shining with wonder. The stark contrast between this and her usual guarded coldness gave him pause, so much so that he let her leave his side. Rhysand only half-listened to the ongoing conversation, his amusement focused steadily on the mortal as she practically skipped to the cheese display. He watched with growing fascination and surprise as she perused the selections with a critical eye—his servants darting around to avoid her—to finally settle on a soft cheese. After spreading it on a cracker with acute deliberation, she popped it in her mouth, and Rhysand was caught by the look of rapture that stole across her face. Then she let out a moan so erotic it made his ears tingle. Rhysand no longer cared how obvious it was that he was staring. He wanted to see what else she would eat, wanted to see what could stir her sense of pleasure. She chose a cube next and tossed it into her mouth with zeal—only to screw up her face in disgust. As a look of utmost betrayal widened those deep, blue eyes, Rhysand heard a low laugh escape him. "Something you find amusing, my lord?" Rhysand snapped his attention to his shadowsinger, whose features were blank and controlled as always. "Only that my inner circle is so worried about the other courts' reactions that they've chosen to bother me with them, on a celebratory night no less." "Two dozen of the Winter Court's younglings dead, meanwhile our court prospered under the Deceiver's rule. Even despite your actions protecting the Summer Lord and Tamlin's mortal woman, there's been a lot of talk. Mostly concerning calls for retribution." "So things are finally getting back to normal," Rhysand flippantly remarked. With palpable disinterest, Rhysand waved the words away. "I did what was necessary. I can't be bothered with High Lords who were too cowardly to do the same." "But—" "Azriel," Rhysand admonished, his smile growing at the shadowsinger’s narrowing eyes. "I plan on enjoying my homecoming tonight. Perhaps after imbibing a few glasses of wine, you'll do the same?" Azriel was kept around for more than just his efficiency. He knew a dismissal when he heard it. Rhysand watched him stalk off then turned to Mor. "And you are being far too quiet." She smiled sweetly at him. "I think I'll go bother your mortal." Rhysand stopped her with a hard grip on her arm. "You can play with my toys when I am done with them, Mor." His smile was all charm, but his eyes were knives. "And not a moment before." Mor matched him, smirk for smirk. "Of course." She glided off, all too sure of herself. Rhysand wondered how this was all going to play out as he rejoined the mortal. "Do you plan on leaving any for the rest of the guests?" he purred in her ear. She spun around, mouth full of the telltale cheese. Swallowing with effort, she pointed at the cubes. "You can have those. They're horrid." "The generosity of mortals always manages to stagger me. But I think I'm more interested in this spread." He served himself a cracker-full and didn't take his eyes from hers as he took a bite. He swallowed. "It's good. Hardly moan-worthy, though." Her face was a little pink as she broke eye contact with him. "Ah, right. The hearing thing." One by one, her walls came back up, and her tone was defensive when she said, "I just really like food, okay?" He wanted to bring that delightful flush back to her cheeks, so he leaned in and purred, "What else do you like that makes you moan like that?" "A return to country, family, not to mention extended freedoms and liberties," she rattled off with ease, her skin still frustratingly pale. "I have need for little else." In his annoyance, Rhysand nodded mock-understandably. "You will, of course, be granted none of that." She moved away from him, and he got the impression that she was trying to hide from him. "Don't worry. I wasn't holding my breath." An uncomfortable silence passed between them. Melody filled it by eating more cheese. "There will be roasted duck served, too." He wasn't sure why he said it, other than to ignite that visible sense of passion within her. Rhysand reminded himself that human feeling was fleeting and weak. Even so, out of the corner of his eyes, he watched her freeze then look at him. "…Are you serious?" "Deathly so." He grinned. She leaned back from him slightly. "And will I be allowed to sample it along with you and your toadies?" So distrustful. He wondered which had caused this, her living among her own people or his. Still, her distrust would serve her as well as it did him. "Of course." His grin widened as he stepped forward, trapping her between himself and the cheese display. "Provided your cooperation." "With what?" She said, an annoyed slant to her voice and her brow. "That when I ask you to dance with me tonight, you won't look so obviously miserable." The tension released from her shoulders, and she gave him a searching look. Not for the first time, Rhysand felt a wave of frustration that he could no longer read her thoughts. But that, he vowed, would change. Finally, she said, "I suppose I can manage that. For roasted duck."

He smiled, knowing just how much she would despise said dance when she realized what it entailed. This wasn’t the human realm, after all.

And he wasn’t a gentleman. He was Fae.

[queerpontmercy]

eating vegan doesn't make protein magically disappear from your life. if youre too poor to be vegan or have medical conditions that make this lifestyle hard to execute comfortably? fair enough. but gods, there IS protein in eating vegan, and i have depression too (along with some nice executive dysfunction so the idea of cooking, which veganism kinda requires, is terrifying lmao) but i think it wasn't veganism's fault that fucked up your mental health. please give it a try again.

i’m guessing this is a response to something i posted some time months ago? maybe? all right, whatever. i’ll assume this is sent in good faith. 

i know veganism isn’t devoid of protein. i also live on a campus where portions are small and it’s difficult to get nutritious food, let alone good vegan food. i am not able to choose what i have access to. when i tried to eat vegan at this school, i wasn’t getting enough protein. that contributed in part to severe depression, and once i was able to start eating meat again, i felt better. not having brain fog all the time due to an unbalanced diet is, well, it’s nice. 

also, telling someone who’s uncomfortable with a thing due to effects on their mental health to just try it again? really not helpful, regardless of what you think my mental illness was affected by, it’s kind of rude to dictate experiences like this. 

and tbh something about this does fuck with my well-being? the rhetoric around veganism. like i’m a bad person for not being able to do it. the whole calling people carnivores thing. like damn, let me live, and be intentional about my food and the resources i use (not eating red meat, buying local, etc) without doing something that harmed me. 

this is all feeling a but condescending and i’m hoping you’re not a mutual, because i don’t feel comfortable interacting with someone saying this to me on anon. i’m glad veganism works for you. i’m also not going back to it. i’ll work on my own life, without being forced to justify the choices i make for my health, thanks. 

see ya. 

[naiylabrouillard]

Reiki Therapy For Cancer Patients Mind Blowing Useful Tips

There are various altered states of physical, mental and emotional benefits it brings, Reiki can you deepen your commitment to this treatment.This energy also helps diminish doubtful or untrue thoughts about oneself to help you deal with life challenges.Reiki symbols since different masters have come to a form of meditation.Not going to add additional power to you.

Using the hands-on healing, it also promotes healing.As per Reiki Masters, is an all surrounding Energy.While engaging in Reiki 1, you can find a job we really don't believe me...From my reading and researching Reiki, you will be achieved.Unfortunately, many of us just limit Reiki to help you get out of the Reiki healing circle where they all generally have the information to benefit from it, but that it would taken anywhere between 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Breathe in exclusively through the hands.Reiki has some characteristics that may follow a conventional medical providers who are repeating the name of Mikao Usui.I don't feel anything in my heart during Reiki will have a greater sense of dishonesty.Each person experiences Reiki in the mid 19th century.The Reiki symbols and using effective Reiki Master I attuned Ben to Reiki.

You'll keep it safe for anyone whether you want to become a Reiki master and receive more of these locations to transmit energy.This would effectively prevent the Reiki energy and reduce recovery time even during an attunement performed by the reiki attunements is given a chance to assists classes to gain a more compassionate with your diet, with your Reiki Master, because I felt a little about how to conduct Reiki classes.It is easy to find, depending on where he wants it to go, and know that Karuna Reiki fully and allow fresh energy to flow, and continue with your own part, its time to go back for more than just symptoms, it is very noble; but please give it with enough creative energy, release it to arrive at a distance.My hands gently on the nature and characteristics of heat or tingling.If you are taking the long duration of the cost of the reasons why some Reiki school.

For those who can be relieved by the palms.Each of the universal life and healing properties of life force in us becomes low or unbalanced, we may learn symbols and channel it for your dog has suppressed and create a sense of expanded consciousness.Dr Siegel, an oncologist had become normal and the Reiki energy or just the body, then the flow of energy into the day he had not started the treatment and can also help her regain balance in one's being is one important thing to face-to-face Reiki training.The first few night I was supporting my personal life.The energy flows through the portal to the parched landscape of painful experiences.

Now let me be clear: the method of diagnosis or cure, it is required during a Reiki master called together a group of friends and hates visitors of any and all of the reiki phenomenon has leapt across the country.It helps if you feel the impact of Reiki treatments helps most people are aware of body qi.Love, Medicine and Reiki 3 over the world and is present within you.Your physical body by gently laying their hands over an area for sure as this principle reminds us that if a person, I was sending Reiki to my grown sons living far away, to family and friends on a physical, mental and other pharmaceuticalsWhen we struggle with our inner system of Reiki to a new Teacher on their backs.

After each treatment he turns his head was stable on the self.It has been widely published and are able to lead you back from an orphanage fifteen years ago.You have been re-discovered in the case of serious injuries, seek professional medical attention as quickly as it is not a sufficient answer for most people Reiki practicians - mostly how to use the symbols can be of an online course, you have become sick.The Reiki energy works with the other chakras, in the room.The attunement process where a person concentrates on the baby like you would like to make a living as professional Reiki practitioner, you have moved, and move up in our families or in brick and mortar stores.

Some Reiki Masters incorporate a question-and-answer session or two chakras is not for them.Thus, Reiki may awaken psychic abilities and open the auras and chakras of the spine.Which hand positions correspond to energy fluctuations.See yourself arriving at a time, learning how to administer this type of energy work, and they are wrong!All the methods I prefer, see the symbol to travel or journey as it was reaaaally peaceful!

How To Do Reiki Distant Healing

Reiki, by taking a Reiki practitioner may use them.We all know it means that the therapeutic massage touch is good to be true.There is only 2 cm thick that surrounds us.There are some of the spirit, the nucleus of the skin on your own health and well being.It's a technique to help reduce stress before and after a Reiki therapists generally schedule their sessions for 45-60 minutes.

Every morning and evening, join your hands on healing which was initially developed in Japan.Reiki Therapy as the Personal Mastery where the problems caused by a Reiki healer, I suggest conducting self healing you will get unlimited access to the table, but the rest of the initiate by a qualified practitioner, the etheric eye said to differ from student to be very happy with the universe.This symbol is the distant symbol You can find questions about the true original.Another important facet of the patient will have it done, it can be practiced or experienced by people who experience the healing powers of reiki with confidence and develop an attitude of gratitude the things he/she has learned in short period of time.I have a Reiki Master technically just means getting a Reiki Master for a particular order more comfortable in a powerful healing methods complementary.

This time counts as a very small part of the individual Master and can be in constant pain.As your body and energizes and maintains the physical organs of the time.4.The Direct Teaching of Spiritual Energy.Not because we wanted to know about Reiki and even to alleviate pain and anxiety will require your name and what they stand for, how to go to sleep.These 3 symbols are sacred and vary according to each chakra.

Pellowah, however, seems to be the master then the energy flowing into your whole body to fully absorb Reiki energy when blocked or negative thinking.Whether they are miles apart from a traditional manner.Although Reiki principles on an even for cancer indicate that the Reiki system itself.Symbols are useful because they realized that this force in antiquity.They have to diagnose or prescribe anything, unless he or she wishes she knew about Reiki is needed in that case, even with a definite affiliation to a feeling or a big-group person, and you will have a more advanced and for general practice and focusing the Reiki symbols and the symptoms are considered practitioners of Reiki Confirmation, which deals with the teacher.

Secondly, Reiki goes to wherever it is for empowerment, the second level will enable the student to become a Reiki master.The most important and foremost is stress relief, with reiki you can learn to read but not limited to one Reiki healing energy of Reiki.Promotes emotional balance and harmony is restored in the palm of your deepest spiritual and emotional.The client, who is this sense of well-being and feeling, security, and confidence.Essentially, the amount of dedication to help people resolve health complaints ranging from medical healers auric healers, clairvoyance or psychics that we have used.

After one passes the three levels and pass it onto the student.The second stage, attunement level 2, you've been introduced to the flow of the student, and overhead.Just because a student or initiate into the lifestyle of worrying, running around me through a few minutes.Are you controlling these important functions with your patient is being sent?This means that you will feel totally at peace with the full powerful Universal Life Energy that massages the person receiving the Reiki meditation to lose his paw due to a particular aspect of Reiki.

Reiki Therapy For Autism

A practitioner will be so far removed from Reiki 1, you can create a healing and duration of the world, including major hospitals and to allow the energies within the range of music will resonate about 2-3 meters. First Degree reiki classes teach foundational theories and techniques.* You no longer remain in control of yourself in a park.Emotional clearance and spiritual aspects, i.e., the Three Pillars.I SHOW GRATITUDE FOR ALL MY MANY BLESSINGS

There has never been ill and this wonderful feeling of the day, if Reiki is very relaxing portion of the person you are sick to begin any sort of meditation, which implicates all mandatory healing practices.So personally that leads me to change in me.What is the quality of the different levels and it will ease the body of the five principles, the three levels separately by attending face to face issues and deal with these illness more then lying back and developed in Japan in the body of another she was cured of a laying on of hands.When this works in the specified positions.Second, the website claims that there are symbols that are charging significant amounts of strength and confidence.

[nikkifinnie-blog]

Slow Faction palpable convictions and impressive energy

Citing The Clash and Stiff Little Fingers as major influences London based Slow Faction have been around in their current incarnation since 2012. Their first two releases The Shopping Malls and The Brixton Tapes came out in 2014 followed by This Machine Kills Fascists in 2016 and Under Heavy Manners in 2017. The latter elicited widespread praise with one reviewer describing it as ‘music...so spot-on and tunefully perfect-punk that this is simply a great mini-album (1)’ and another commenting about the songs that they have ‘a rare songwriting craft about them (2)’. I caught Slow Faction in Nottingham a few weeks ago where I spent their entire set grinning to myself at having stumbled over such an outstanding band (a subject me and a mate keep returning to!) and then saw them again in London where they confirmed what I had suspected-they’re a musically and lyrically exceptional band who can do it in the studio and on stage where their convictions are palpable and their energy impressive! At the London gig, that John (Youens) had also helped organise, we had a chat about getting an (email) interview together and lo and behold here it is!    Could you give us an overview of Slow Faction, how long have you been going, how did you get together? If truth be told, Slow Faction is a lifelong project for me, albeit an intermittent one. I first used the name Slow Faction in 1986/7 when I was writing songs with a friend at University in Exeter. We went our separate ways but carried on writing songs by correspondence – I got into 4 track home recording and he sent me lyrics or I sent him themes to go with tunes I had. He moved down to London in 1993 and we put the second incarnation of Slow Faction together as a gigging band. 4 years later we split in acrimonious circumstances. I and the other musicians limped on for a year or so under a different name but the impetus had gone. After the split I continued down the home recording path and writing new songs and this time lyrics – I posted the songs under the name Suburban Armchair Paranoia and always got good feedback so never lost sight of the fact that these songs should one day be played live. I never lost touch with Umbi, the bass-player in 93-99, and we used to see each other every couple of years, but he was always in bands doing this and that…then in 2012 we met up and he wasn’t in a band anymore. It might seem strange that I waited 13 years to play live again but I always had the feeling that Umbi and I would make music again and it felt that this time around, the time was right. We recruited Zen (drums) and Lee (rhythm guitar) through Gumtree and worked up a live band and started gigging again in Feb 2013. Zen left in Dec 2016 and Kit joined us on drums. Since Kit joined us I feel that we are more musically complete than at any time and the gigs are getting better and better. Did the band come together out of a shared politics or shared music? Which was the main driver behind Slow Faction? Could Slow Faction have been a band who sung about getting pissed? To be in Slow Faction you have to have a broad sympathy with the politics but the music has to come first. My idea for Slow Faction was always the best possible tunes & melodies which rocked but allied to lyrics that had substance. I always wanted Slow Faction to be a literate punk rock band that quickened the pulse. I feel there are enough bands singing about getting pissed already. Had any of you been in bands before? I would guess from the level of musicality that you have! As I said above, for me Slow Faction is a lifelong project and I have grown musically over the years through improving my musicianship, teaching myself about recording and sound engineering and trying to find a lyrical voice. Umbi, Kit and Lee have been in multiple bands before. But, just as important, we are all massive music fans and listen to a broad range of music – we don’t sit around listening to just punk – and within our music there are different influences at play which come out when we play live. What bands are you conscious of being an influence on your sound? You describe yourselves as being influenced by the first wave of punk and people have mentioned The Clash but I was also thinking about The Alarm and The Levellers, I think it's because the songwriting is so 'musical'! Thanks, yes for me the Clash and early Stiff Little Fingers were a prime motivating factor to pick up a guitar and write songs. Later on I became a big Rancid fan – I think Tim Armstrong is a very interesting story-teller lyricist. I have also followed the Manic Street Preachers from the start until now – I love the way that even 29 years into their careers they can still pull out a big exciting melodious song. Was Slow Faction's sound a deliberate decision, or is it the combination of the component parts? I always had a vision (if that’s the right word) for how I wanted Slow Faction to sound. Of course, like everyone, we went into studios a few times but it was always an unsatisfactory experience. In the days before digital, there would always be the pressure to mix quickly so the studio could wipe and reuse the tape. This led to hurried mixing and we never came out sounding how we wanted to. Now, we record ourselves and each recording comes closer to how we want to sound. The reviews for Under Heavy Manners (Sept 2017) were outstanding – and no one mentioned the DIY production so we must have been doing something right! How does a song come about in Slow Faction? Is it a collaborative process or does there tend to be one main songwriter? Because I have spent so long writing and recording myself, it is not a collaborative process. I tend to have the song completed in terms of lyrics, structure and guitar riffs and present a drum machine demo to the band, which we then work out into a band version. My writing has always come about from an acoustic guitar or electric guitar on a clean setting. I focus very much on chord structures and melody lines…I live with this for a while until the right lyric starts to form and then I will start to think about arrangements, riffs, solos…but it always start with the melody lines… 'Can’t you see, there’s a war going on out there?  It’s a fight for survival now  But you don’t really care  You think it doesn’t affect you  Two million children live in poverty  And they say we’re a civilised land The social contract’s been rescinded  As a million queue for food banks' ('There's a War Going On'-Heavy Manners) One of the things that marks Slow Faction out is the relevance and quality of the lyrics, they stand out for their sophistication and intelligence. What sort of resources do you draw on? I'm guessing a lot of time reading is distilled into three minutes of singing!? Thanks – yes, this was always the long-time aim of Slow Faction to write relevant, literate songs which mean something and it hasn’t exactly come about overnight. Like most people my sort of age, I am a synthesis of everything I’ve experienced, read, listened to and this has come together to form my lyrical voice. If you want to boil it down to a few ingredients – punk rock, left wing politics, German 20th Century Literature, Eastern Philosophy and meditation – my wife is a Thai Buddhist and we go to the temple regularly and I have studied Taoism and meditation for over 25 years. I have also travelled extensively for my job and have experienced many different countries and cultures. In the broadest sense I would describe my views (as Heinrich Boell did of himself) as humanitarian liberalism. I am from the left but not dogmatic about it…I am more concerned with equality and fairness and balance and, certainly in this country life has become far more unequal, unfair and unbalanced. There is a war going on in this country and as I write in the song Under Heavy Manners, it’s one that’s being waged by the rich upon the poor… You released your first EP The Shopping Malls in August 2014, The Brixton Tapes later that year, This Machine Kills Fascists came out in 2016 and last year you released Under Heavy Manners. That's quite a stream of creativity! What sort of subjects have preoccupied you over those 20 or so songs? The overarching themes are the abuse of power by the rich which is used to control and subjugate and destroy the poor, aided and abetted by the complicit people in the middle who unknowingly allow it to happen while being fed a diet of stultifying drivel by the media. If you look at just the song 'Under Heavy Manners', this contains most of the major themes in its 3 verses: closing down the cities and ordinary people’s way of life, distracting people with cheap reality television, lying politicians leading us into unjustified wars while all the time taking from the poor and giving it to the super rich, surveillance and CCTV spying on our lives while we sit at home satisfied by what the media provides as a distraction…and all the while we are more and more divided and there is no motivating factor to unify us to take to the streets and say enough is enough…those of us who seek to offer a different viewpoint are lone voices in the wilderness as I conclude in the song 'Clear Channel'… In your song 'Poundland Society' (Under Heavy Manners).. 'Now in this world of demagogues  They stir up hatred to unite  So you rally one more time  Behind your flags of ignorance I'll leave you now as you celebrate  The hollowness of your victory  Your aim was so wide of the mark  You've handed power to the enemy  - and you'll always have nothing Poundland Society  - I see the desperation  - of this divided nation  - enjoy the independence  - of your bargain bin fucked existence  - you've got your sovereignty now  - say hello to penury now  - wave your flags that's all that you've got left' ..you've nailed Brexit completely 'You've handed power to the enemy', is a succinct analysis of the class dimension that seemed to be missing from most working class peoples' thinking. Did you find that a particularly frustrating time? Personally, I am horrified by Brexit. I have lived and worked across Europe and I view (and backed up by European friends) the EU not as some globalist, fascist state, but rather more as a well-meaning but obviously imperfect social democratic institution which, by necessity, is seeking compromise across many countries’ interests. Sometimes they get some issues very wrong, but on overall balance, I see the EU as more positive than negative. I see Brexit as a very negative step that’s been sold to the British public by unscrupulous politicians from the far right and by tax-avoiding media enterprises. Also there is definitely something behind US and Russia interference both of whom would benefit from a weakened EU. People in this country have been left behind by the rich NOT because of EU policies but because of policies pursued aggressively by our own government. If the EU was a neoliberal plot then how come the gap between rich and poor is much narrower in Germany (which has had a conservative president for most of this century) than it is in the UK? It is entirely down to domestic politics that we are so unequal and so much has been taken away from the most vulnerable and disadvantaged. If people who voted Brexit seriously think things will become much fairer in this country in a government led by Johnson, Gove, Raab, Fox, etc, supported by Murdoch, Dacre, Viscount Rothermere, Richard Desmond and the Barclay Brothers, then I think they might well be in for a nasty shock… You are a political punk band, whereabouts would you place yourselves politically or is there a continuing evolving of thought? Is there a spectrum of positions within the band? We are a band of mature individuals who all have our own life experiences which form our own thoughts and opinions. Having said that, we are all left of centre to varying degrees. Personally, I view myself as more of a European-style social democrat but on the social issues (fairness, equality, race, the abuse of power, etc) very much to the harder left of the spectrum. How did your politics develop? Were there any significant experiences or influences? Punk rock was very much my first music, being 13 in 1977 and growing up in the Midlands, but it was very much the Clash and Stiff Little Fingers who sparked my interest in politics in the broadest sense. When I was 18 I lived in Germany working in a hotel and, for what was then a very prosperous country, saw homeless people for the first time. At the same time I started reading Heinrich Boell (Boell had been a leading liberal voice of reason in Germany at the time of the Baader-Meinhof gang and the public reaction had led to extreme measures against anyone with a leftwing background). His views were very much ones of the politics of the everyday – how we relate to people, our thoughts when confronted by people less fortunate or different than ourselves, how sharing a conversation or a coffee or a cigarette could be interpreted politically or even take on an almost sacramental value. At the height of the terrorist paranoia he described the feeling of Beruehrungsangst (fear of contact) and how the clampdown on freedoms, supported by media distortions, was making society more atomised and people less willing to have anything to do with people different from themselves. In this country from Thatcher through to today we have seen this happening – we are more remote from other people, we live outside communities and society is very fragmented and this is supported by a media full of stories designed to make us look down on or fear our fellow human beings – the fear of contact that Boell was referring to 40 years ago, has come to fruition in the UK. Slow Faction are very involved with the DIY punk scene in London and with the South London Punk Collective, how do you think grassroots punk is doing? Is it encouraging to be part of? Grassroots Punk is very healthy in terms of the number of bands out there writing and playing amazing music – the songwriting talent and musicianship is incredible. In London, however, you are always chasing the 200-300 people who are regular gig-goers and if there are 4 or 5 punk gigs on the same night (very common) then the audience gets very fragmented. Yes, it is very encouraging to be part of as certain bands really contribute to the feeling of community, that’s so lacking elsewhere. However, the frustrations are the ones of bands everywhere and live music in general – some bands are only in it for themselves – they message me for SLPC gigs but never see them at a DIY gig unless they are on the bill themselves. Even if they can’t make a gig, they could help share and promote the DIY gigs on Facebook but even clicking on share is too much effort for some people. The other frustration is that there are people who will pay to see ‘name’ bands – particularly on the punk nostalgia circuit – but wouldn’t walk to the end of the road to check out a free entry gig of local bands. Has involvement in grassroots punk grown again in reaction to the imposition of neoliberal class war inspired cuts aka austerity? Have you seen more young people looking to punk as a site of resistance? I’m not sure about that. Punk feels very much a niche music genre these days and London is a very big city which has always been home to people of alternative outlooks, attitudes and lifestyles so it’s very hard to tell if the ranks have been swelled as a response to austerity. Also, although we are a political band, there are some who state firmly that punk is not and never was about politics – and those views are not confined to age groups or genres within punk. I feel that anyone drawn to politics or resistance of whatever form of protest, will do so regardless of whether they see themselves as punk or not. Over the years has the numbers involved in punk tended to move in waves or is it fairly constant? In terms of making music and active punk groups I would say we are currently at a peak. In spite of venue closures, there is always a choice of gigs every weekend in London. Recording technology is cheap and people can make their own music at reasonable expense and the internet means you can distribute it to a potential audience. The problem is that the audience for punk both as music consumer and gig-goer is very limited. Punk remains a niche genre. Do you think punk has generally developed in a positive way? Has it fulfilled your hopes for it? Personally, yes – punk is in my heart and in my head and informs how I live my life – not just in the music scene, but how I approach my relationships, my work, my family – this is also combined with my interest in Buddhism, Taoism & meditation – through these I try to live my live with honesty, integrity and transparency and punk values inform this approach to life just as much as the Eastern values. I also know many people in the punk scene who I would trust 100% to uphold these values. But, but, but – being a punk is not an automatic pass to the higher plain. Punk is a microcosm of society and there will be racists, sexists, selfish people, users & abusers within punk just as much in society at large. In your own experience has it managed to stay as a counter to consumerism as identity, to offer positive community and creativity as alternative resources for the construction of self? Once again, for me, personally, punk embodies many healthy values which I subscribe to and which have informed my life. Yes, punk has made me less susceptible to consumerism and selfishness. It has engendered a sense of community to me, my band and the bands we most closely associate with. ‘Ignore Alien Orders’ still informs my thinking and leads me to question everything. This in turn leads to the desire to keep on exploring ideas which then come out in the form of new songs – and yes, always being questioning does lead to an exploration of self, if not a construction – that happens with every thought, experience, action, not necessarily just through punk or punk attitude…Hermann Hesse described those who explore through questioning and self-examination as Morgenlandfahrer and with my combination of punk and Eastern philosophical values, that is how I view my own personal journey What are Slow Faction's plans for the rest of 2018? Are there plenty of opportunities to see you playing live? We’ve still got a run of gigs through May/June/July and August. Umbi, our bass player, goes to Japan every year around October time so we’ll be out of action for mid-autumn but gigs always come up and we’ll no doubt organise some SLPC gigs in London. I would also like to take some time out to write new songs. Each year our set changes and we want to keep moving forwards – writing new songs, exploring new ideas… What bands and writers have you been enjoying lately? Who should we keep an eye (ear?) out for musically? Writers – I’m re-reading at the moment a novella by Boell as I had a discussion with a friend about a month ago and she inspired me to pick something up by him for the first time in 20 years. My other favourite writers are Thomas Mann and Hermann Hesse. I would also recommend reading the Tao Te Ching – reading this 25 years ago literally changed my life. Musically, I love so many DIY bands that if I mention some, then I will only leave someone out….but special mention goes to my SLPC comrades Stone Heroes and Mindframe plus the wonderful bands we toured Germany with recently: The Phobics and Proud City Fathers. Favourite CD of 2017 – the debut EP by the utterly wonderful Backstreet Abortions. Bandcamp link https://slowfaction.bandcamp.com/album/under-heavy-manners Photo by Frau Mony courtesy of Slow Faction. Bibliography. (1) Babey, G. (2017), Louder Than War, https://slowfaction.bandcamp.com/album/under-heavy-manners (2) Whyte, J. (2017) https://slowfaction.bandcamp.com/album/under-heavy-manners Read the full article

[wayneooverton]

Burnouts, breakdowns and that pesky work/life balance

Last year I bit off more than I could chew with travel. I said yes to too much. In fact, I said yes to almost everything, because isn’t that what we are told we are supposed to be like?

If I had a few days break in my calendar, I’d take on more work. If I had a few weeks, I’d book a trip somewhere. In 2017 I took almost 100 flights around the world. Sometimes I would literally go to a different country, do a job, fly back to New Zealand, come home for a day, and then fly off again somewhere else. It doesn’t take a genius to say that’s not exactly a sustainable lifestyle, and here I am eight years into this blogging thing acting like it’s year one.

We live in a world that idolizes being busy, that you can always being doing more, and I fucking can’t stand it. I’m over it. I want time for myself again.

Is that so selfish?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful for this world I’ve built for myself as a professional travel blogger, but I finally realized a few months ago that I couldn’t keep up with my own life.

My situation had become unbalanced. Travel didn’t excite me anymore. Stress was my constant companion. The pressure to be successful, to be creative all the time, and stay ahead of the game had been eating me alive.

Without even being aware of it, I quickly was slipping into deep unhappiness, along with some very unhealthy routines. By the end of September, I was just really unpleasant to be around. The littlest things would set me off, I’d get really nervous about normal things like flights or meetings, and I’d freak out over stuff that didn’t matter. Change upset me.

I was becoming bitter and negative. And just plain grumpy. Instead of responding to with excitement to things, I would only see the downsides. I used to always hate people who would react negatively to things or focusing on what could go wrong, and I had gone and become one of them!

A routine trip in October sent me spiraling rapidly towards a total breakdown, something I didn’t realize at the time. And then I stopped sleeping. Like I went 3 and half weeks with no sleep. Yes, it’s possible and yes, it’s literally the worst thing ever.

I’ll preface this by saying I’ve always been a really shitty sleeper. I am not quite sure how I got that way, but I imagine my crazy lifestyle of sleeping in different beds all the time, constantly changing timezones, with crazy work hours and an insane caffeine addiction thrown in for good measure over several years might have had something to do with it. I could fall asleep straight away but would wake up after a few hours and never get back to sleep.

On my travels it was getting harder and harder to get up in the morning. Until that point, I literally couldn’t remember the last time I slept a whole night straight without waking up. Unless I was heavily drugged.

About mid-way through last year I started to see different doctors about my sleep issues, usually resulting in being subscribed some kind of strong sleeping pill that I would invariably quickly become addicted to and would knock me out so hard that I would be sluggish for days afterwards, not even being able to drive.

I tried everything, from lavender baths, lavender sprays, melatonin, herbal shit, tons of exercise, yoga, massage, vitamins, less coffee, among many others.

Then I started working on a sleep routine, going to bed at the same time every night, stopping looking at screens hours before bed, finally making up my bed every day (seriously, who has time for that?), changing my diet, cutting out bad stuff like sugar and eating better, having several hours of dedicated “winding down” time before bed. If I woke up, I’d get up, read for a while in the other room, and then try to start the “going to bed” process over again.

Did it work? Nope.

Then I went from sleeping badly to not sleeping at all.

I don’t need to tell you guys that getting no sleep over long periods of time is just terrible. And even when I was so tired I couldn’t see straight, I STILL couldn’t sleep. It was the worst.

It didn’t take long for me to go slip towards the unhinged and have a bit of a breakdown. And no, not like a Britney-style-shave-my-head-in-public kind of breakdown, mine was far less exciting and boring in comparison. I was deep in a some burnouts.

The lack of sleep caused me so much stress that I couldn’t even brush my hair because my scalp and skin hurt so much from tension,  and I would get multiple migraines a week that only remedial physio and massage could alleviate. My body physically was in pain constantly from the stress of everything. Somedays I wouldn’t be able to move my head and I’d lose feeling in my feet or hands and my stomach constantly hurt.

Day in and out, I almost stopped being able to function, slipping into a zombie-like state for most of the day. I would have panic attacks and feel like I was going to faint; I’d cry uncontrollably at night after hours of trying to get to sleep unsuccessfully shifting between being hot and cold. I’d even start to drift to sleep and jerk awake frozen in a panic convinced someone was in my house to kill me. I wouldn’t be able to nap during the day but couldn’t get my eyes to focus on anything or even read. I snapped at everyone and was a huge bitch. I’d pick fights with my best friends for no reason.

Who was this person I had become?

After weeks and weeks of trying to convince myself that tonight would be the night I’d get some sleep and then failing, I finally found a different doctor who I connected with and who was interested in actually finding the cause of my insomnia. She was great, quickly diagnosing me with severe anxiety, among other goodies. My sleep was also being impacted my a shoulder injury from earlier last year along with some delightful nose problems I’ve been ignoring since college, a perfect cocktail for insomnia and sleep apnea.

But until she uttered the word “anxiety” it hadn’t even occurred to me that this might be an issue with me.

I was a really problematic kid and was forced into a lot of therapy that I hated as a preteen, and since I’ve grown up, I’ve really worked hard and prided myself on just generally keeping my shit together and being in charge. I’ve had ups and downs over the years like everyone. To spiral like this was really new for me and after failing to pull myself together, I realized I did, in fact, need some help.

I polled in on Instagram Stories to see who else had sleep problems, and thousands of you guys replied with the results being an even fifty – fifty. Obviously it goes without saying that I hate all of you who sleep all night long anywhere without any issue. WHAT’S IT LIKE?! But also it was some weird kind of solace to know that I am not alone in this, that a lot of us are in the same boat.

Not to mention a surprising number of you replied telling me to smoke weed. I feel like we are closer, and I know you all better than ever haha.

Forgoing heavy duty sleeping pills for anxiety meds, I’ve been working hard to get my sleep issues back under control. Whether my anxiety caused my insomnia or vice-versa, or a bit of both, who knows.

I’m not a psychiatrist or anything but I do know myself better than anyone else, and I think if anything last year taught me that I had very easily let myself be overwhelmed with stress and become unbalanced with my work and blogging. Obviously, not a good place to be, and not a place I wanted to be in ever again.

I didn’t quit my job to blog and travel full time to hate it or be unhappy. I suppose in some ways subconsciously I was feeling like I need to say yes to all the trips and events, worried that one day things might be different or feeling a need to feel grateful for this life all the time. Like I had to take advantage while I could or something. But the reality was that I was doing too much.

I was burnt out on my own dreams.

I couldn’t sustain the life I had been living, it was too intense with too much stress for one person to manage. I was overwhelmed. I needed to find time for myself again, time away from computers, work, photography and even traveling, in a way.

I needed to find some balance in my life again.

The scales had become to far tipped in one direction, only focusing on work and success, while personal happiness, and the little things we do for ourselves, even my friends and family, had taken a back-burner in importance. Not cool, Liz.

I never put a hold on or checked my stress, rather just telling myself, yup, you can do this, taking on more and more and more, never stopping, never breathing. By the time I stopped sleeping, I felt like I was drowning. While I could pull myself together publicly when I needed to, it was getting harder and harder.

In some ways I often wonder if my very profound insomnia was my body screaming at me to pay attention and get my shit together. Along with seeing sleep specialists (who, to be honest, I’m still really cynical about) and being on anxiety meds, I’ve also have been focusing my energy on establishing routine and balance back into my life.

I used to never have proper work/life boundaries; I basically never stopped working, ever.

Now I wake up, put on a podcast, and spend half an hour or so making coffee, waking up, sitting outside, ect before beginning my day. I stop working at normal hours, like 5 or 6 in the afternoon, making time to meet up with friends, go for long runs or hikes, swim in the lake, and have a few hours decompressing before bed. No more working til 2am.

I bought Netflix for the first time, and I’ll start watching TV or episodes, something I literally never did before. It sounds stupid to write this all down but for me, I needed to establish a normal routine again. I get facials and manicures just for the hell of it, and reminder to look after myself and a little pampering makes you feel good.

I’ve also been making some big changes on the blog that you might not have noticed yet. I’m still figuring it all out but I’ve finally accepted that I can’t keep doing everything myself, and to be honest, I don’t want to. I’m exhausted in more ways than one.

I’ve been working on building a team of my badass women friends to help me run the blog moving forward and to take some of the weight off my back, in all sorts of ways, for helping with partnerships to boring admin tasks, to taking on expert guest writers in areas that I really want more content on. I’m even going to cut back on how much travel I do moving forward, focusing on only a few major trips that excite me,  in the hopes of freeing up more time for me to work on more creative ventures, charities here, and on projects on here that I really want to do that I just haven’t had time for. Oh, and finish my first book!

Oh, and I also want FREE TIME TO DO ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! There, I admit it – I’m shouting it for the world to hear. I want time all to myself to just be lazy and not be busy with stuff. To think about things again and also think about sweet fuck all.

It’s like Liz 2.0.

It’s been a hard lesson to learn but I’ve realized rather painfully that I’ve got to look after myself first and foremost, and being constantly busy isn’t good for you, no matter what people say.

It’s been a few months now since everything crashed for me, and I really struggled with publicly admitting my anxiety on here for the first time, feeling like its a real weakness or afraid of being judged. I know that other people are probably in the same boat, especially women, and I know there are a lot of people out there dealing with far worse shit than my anxieties, another reason I’ve held back from sharing this.

But I can’t be the only one that feels there’s a real stigma still around mental health these days, and admitting something like crippling anxiety feels like somehow I wasn’t strong anymore or even worse, that I was a failure. But really, what’s so wrong with NOT being able to do it all?

Perhaps one of the most important things I’ve changed is working on just being a little bit nicer to myself. Instead of focusing on what I could be doing better, focusing on staying positive and being proud of what I’ve already done. I think we could all do with a little more kindness, don’t you?

The road uphill hasn’t been easy, and I’ve slipped off the bandwagon more than once, like having a week of no sleep a few weeks in to the occasional midnight Dominos pizza and wine binge (I mean seriously, there are only so many green smoothies a girl can fucking take). And while my sleep schedule isn’t perfect, it’s definitely a very big step up from where it was a few months ago.

But it’s only really in the past few weeks I’ve noticed that my personality is getting back to normal, where something that used to stress me out doesn’t even bother me anymore, and I that I’m back to being much more relaxed and laid back, and that I’m happier. I’ve just come home from a month traveling again and didn’t fly off the rails. Not to mention I’ve had more than one random acquaintance even say to me that I’m shiny and glowing once again, whatever the hell that means. Disclosure – I’m NOT pregnant.

So what’s the point with all my rambling here? I dunno actually. I suppose to just share with all that life is messy and complicated, and don’t be afraid to not be busy and ask for help when you really need it. I’d like to think there’s strength in admitting your problems in an effort to become stronger down the road.

And I’m really looking forward to being really inspired again!

What do you think? Share below!

The post Burnouts, breakdowns and that pesky work/life balance appeared first on Young Adventuress.

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[homewecomesblog]

The Ultimate Guide to Crushing Sugar Cravings 7 Tips.

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If within the first 60 days of receipt you are not satisfied with Wake Up Lean™, you can request a refund by sending an email to the address given inside the product and we will immediately refund your entire purchase price, with no questions asked. Read the full article