#and she seemed genuinely impressed with how i described it and how easily she understood what i meant

[syekick-powers]

every time a medical professional of some sort tells me i have a high degree of self-awareness, it makes me have an external reaction of "thank you i try" and an internal reaction of "honestly i think having as high a level of self-awareness as i do is at least a quarter of why i'm so miserable. :')"

[nasir-simp]

Azula’s Trauma

Okay, so I know that she was born psychotic (says so in the comics) but she still went through a lot of trauma that made it worse.  So here’s me listing the reasons why she went off the rails. 

Azula’s odds were never in her favor since she was born. She loved fire bending as a kid and would rather use a sword than play with a doll. It’s very to understand what she’s thinking and her emotions if you just payed attention. In some cases you could say she that she’s more on one side of the spectrum than others. She’s not very empathetic to begin with but she never knew better. No one really taught her how or that what she was doing was wrong. 

1. She was already at a disadvantage seeing as Zuko’s older than her. That too, she was also a girl. But doors opened for her when Ozai realized how gifted of a fire bender she was. Also remember, Zuko didn’t know that he was born with the gift of fire bending. 

This was the beginning of his envy towards Azula. She got his father’s love so easily while he had to try so hard to even get a shred of his recognition. This caused him to start distancing himself from Azula. Being Ozai’s prodigy wasn’t easy on her. Her mother probably thought of her as a monster to some extent. (Yes she loved her but that thought was always at the back of her mind.) 

It also didn’t help that whenever Zuko cried her mother automatically assumed that Azula had something to do with it. Her mother should understand that it’s normal for siblings to make the other cry even if it’s their fault. It’s just normal sibling rivalry. This probably led to Azula resenting her own mother. Even with this newfound resentment towards her, she was still a child that wished for her mother’s love. Or for her mother to even glance at her the way she does Zuko. Because of this she tried to find parental love another way, through Ozai. 

2. Being brought up by Ozai is much different than being raised by Ursa. He probably thought Azula battle strategies instead of reading bedtime stories. He probably taught her that mercy was for the weak, an example of that would be Iroh. Before she even met him, she already had a bad impression of him. The impression only went downhill when he sent her and Zuko gifts. Zuko got a blade while she got a doll. 

Ozai must have told Iroh something about her, because if he knew her he would have known that would want a blade as well. It would make more sense for Azula to receive the blade, the girl who trains 24/7, rather than the boy who feeds turtle ducks in his free time instead of practicing. It was at the moment that Azula thought that no one really understood her but her dad, Ozai. But even he didn’t understand her, he just only saw of her as a child soldier. 

All he ever id was encourage her ruthlessness towards other and to disconnect from other’s emotions to avoid being ‘weak’. It must of felt so good to finally be favored over Zuko. Ozai favored her while Iroh and Ursa favored him. The maids and servants probably had more of a liking towards Zuko since she never treated them as well as Zuko. But REMEMBER, Ozai taught her that kindness was a weakness not a virtue. Azula got hooked on the approval that comes with impressing Ozai which caused her to train harder and be better than Zuko. 

This isn't how a child should be raised though, they should know the they are loved no matter how talented or talentless they are. You have to remember, she is still a child!

3.  But, she had two friends that helped her gain the normalcy of childhood, Mai and Ty Lee. They were her best friends, she felt as if she could genuinely enjoy life instead of being trained like a soldier that's going to be shipped off for war. When Mai had a crush on Zuko all of Azula's insecurities probably entered her again. Afraid that Mai would soon favor him more and soon only hang out with him. The only thing that helped her feel grounded was the fact that Mai was shy and that it was highly unlikely that she would ever act on those feelings. She would still be on her side like always, or so she thought. 

4. Now we'll talk about the Agni kai between Zuko and her father. Outwardly she seemed happy that Zuko was going to be banished and let's be honest, she probably was. But there's a chance that she knew he was still her brother and hoped that he wouldn't kneel in front of Ozai knowing that would just make him an embarrassment. With Zuko kneeling, she lost all of the little respect that she had for him because you're not supposed to show mercy to your opponents no matter what. Whomever it may be. Even with this lost of respect she must have felt happy knowing that with his banishment, there would be no competition for Ozai's attention. And with him, the uncle who knew nothing about her also left. 

The years following Zuko's abandonment led Azula to perfect her fire bending and become a master. That too, also gaining a neverbefore seen fire color, blue. There's not much to say about this time since we don't know that much. Continuing on, when Zuko came back and joined the trio including Mai and Ty Lee, she probably felt the happiest she's ever been in a very long time. When it came down to the decision between Azula or her uncle, Azula must have felt fantastic to have someone favor her, even if it was just Zuko. To be someone's first choice, the words are indescribable. 

During the beach episode we see a new side of Azula. We see her realize how different she is from everyone else. She desperately tries to fit in but it wasn't what she was trained to do. she must have been isolated from kids her own age besides Ty Lee and Mai during her childhood with Ozai. She was trained to conquer cities like Ba Sing Se, capture the avatar, be a master fire bender. This is what's natural for her, not making some boy like her. During the fire pit scene we see Azula open up towards the group saying how her mother thought of her as a monster. They all reacted quite calmly, not really jumping in with words of encouragement to make her feel better. Subconsiously, Azula must have known her friends shared the same thoughts as her mother. But she never really thought they would leave her seeing as they were friends, right? This scene is also where we see Azula show genuine emotion other than ruthlessness and it's directed towards Ty Lee. Ty Lee told the group that she always felt shadowed by her 6 other sisters. You could see the emotion flash through Azula's face. Azula related to Ty Lee on an emotional level because she went through the same thing, but instead it was with Zuko.

5. During the prison break when Azula was trying to stop the avatar from escaping, it probably broke her heart to see Zuko with him. Helping the avatar to escape goes against everything she was taught. But that wasn't what broke her, it was Mai betraying her. Sure she knew that they finally got together after Mai harboring the crush on him for years but she always thought that Mai would stick with her. She thought that Mai liked her and actually thought of her as a friends instead of the monster that everyone paints her to be. 

6. The final crack on her heart though, was Ty Lee. When Ty Lee chi blocked her to let Mai escape, it broke her. Her eyes of pain were evident as she fell. Seeing the two people she trusted most on the other side when she thought they would be beside hers. Ty Lee was the only person who she never had a doubt on. It wasn't even a doubt that Ty Lee's loyalty could even be wavered. She trusted Ty Lee with her life. With the treachery of Ty Lee, Azula knew she was alone in the world. This final betrayal is what caused Azula's mask to crack. That crack let her insanity finally shine through.

7.While training with Lo and Li the only feedback she received from them was that she had a hair out of place. That hair symbolizes her mental health. Throughout the show her hair gradually becomes messier and messier. The messier it is, the more cracked her facade of well being is. The last time we see her on the show is during her Agni kai with Zuko. This is where her hair is the most messy. To quote Remus Lupin,"Finally the flesh reflects the madness within."

8. Even at Azula's worst she still held her own at the Agni kai during Zuko's best. But when she knew she was going to loose, she shot lightning at Katara with Zuko getting in the way just in time but rendering him useless. Once Katara bested Azula by freezing her in water to wrap chains around her arms, we hear Azula schema in defeat. The best way to describe it would be to call it a panic attack. Watching Azula breakdown hurts so much because it's so realistic. Her screams are heart wrenching and it hurts knowing what she went through. And she's only 14, a child! She's just a kid, a kid who went through too much that no one should ever experience. She went through too much for her to ever have hope. She went through too much to ever have the odds in her favor. 

To conclude, Azula is a child who's broken on the inside and out. She's never stood a chance. She may have been born lucky but she wishes that she was never born. 

[sweetrupturedlight]

This week on Sen Çal Kapımı

Serkan's inability to articulate his feelings for Eda has him literally man down, while Eda contemplates their kinda, sorta, maybe mutual feelings and her future. Other stuff happens, but come on, with this episode, Edser takes centre stage as the ship sets sail on the high seas.

Before we jump right into it, last week in this post, I bulleted the things all of us expected was coming. 

Let’s take one moment to note the glorious ways in which all of these things unfolded?

Nursing back to health

Pining

Severe angst

Breaking point

Dear writers of this show, we appreciate you. We are truly blessed.

Now, on to this week. The episode picks up where we left off, with Selin giving Serkan 2 days to decide whether she drops Ferit like a hot potato on the eve of their wedding. Let’s be clear, she wants to dump a man she is supposed to marry in two days to resume a logical and clinical relationship? Is Selin even in love with Serkan? It doesn’t seem like he treated her very well – but then again, it seems their relationship had a very logical genesis – no sweeping romantic gestures, no sweet words, no compliments it would seem! etc. So objectively I’m not sure what exactly makes that prospect better than the one with Ferit – who clearly does love and care for her. But I digress. 

Essentially, this is how it plays out:

Selin: “Let me know in max 2 days if you want to be with me, k.”

Serkan: ...

Eda: Simply exists.

Serkan: Stares directly at Selin as he deliberately grasps Eda’s hand and holds on for dear life.

Now, they say actions speak louder than words... so how is Selin still not clear on the fact that Serkan not rushing to end her marriage means he’s not interested???

Anyhoo, Serkan and Eda spend most of the episode circling around the same.

Did you say yes to Selin?

What is your opinion on my situation with Selin?

Would you stay?

I can’t stay because… reasons

If either one of these to love-struck puppies took a second to reflect, they would realise that they actually have the answers already. Eda in fact, does consider for a minute that Serkan might actually have feelings for her. Serkan however, is convinced Eda cannot wait to get out of his life - which makes his bold move at the end of the episode a great moment for his own growth as a character. He was operating on his feelings and taking an emotional risk, having no idea how she actually felt. Yes, he had the note she left, but up until 20 minutes earlier, he was still fighting Engin on the notion that she could genuinely have feelings for him.

Speaking on Engin, writers, I have faith that we will see Engin mercilessly tease Serkan in the next episode about his heart eyes and his newfound familiarity with the language of love. This is likely going to bring great comedic gold. Its also not lost on me that Engin can so easily see the love between Serkan and Eda, but is totally clueless about his own romantic entanglements. To be honest, I’m not invested in this romance, so whomever he ends up with - or doesn’t - is fine by me.

Listen, I’m high key bursting at the fact that Eda and Serkan both already see the other in their bed(s). Them facing “each other” with longing was one of the smaller moments of the episode, but one of my favourites. And because this show is so good at parallels, I’m putting it out there that we will get a scene of them sharing a bed without Serkan needing to turn his back to her, but also without Serkan ruining the mood once daybreak arrives. Eda is a snuggler and she loves to sleep. I’m looking forward to bedroom shenanigans. Also, can Eda (and Engin) find the pictures of them he’s clearly carrying around in his wallet at this point? Please and thank you.

SIDE NOTE: according to Laila, Serkan has a conference in London “next week” which has been reserved for two people. Since I’m going out on a limb and saying Serkan won’t be travelling with Selin, will Eda accompany him to the UK? One can only hope for a honeymoon romantic getaway business trip.

Adore the “don’t leave” parallels that the show has been dropping like golden nuggets for the past few weeks. Serkan has spent multiple episodes in a struggle with himself. If Eda wants to leave, he insists its not his style to ask her to stay. But by episodes end he is so frenzied at the thought of his life without her, he’s ready and willing to say it m u l t i p l e times. We love a glow up.

Things I loved about this episode:

The handhold 5 seconds in & Eda’s impulsive kiss on his cheek.

The super cheesy let’s-randomly-turn-on-the-radio-and-awkwardly-listen-to-the-exact-song-describing-our entire-love-story. The way I was lapping it up with shovel. Also, Başak Gümülcinelioğlu’s (aka the actress playing Piril) song Sen Çal Kapımı is beautiful. All the fanvids, all the time please oh talented vidders.

Serkan’s meltdown at the office the minute he realised she’s about to leave. Hilarious. I truly enjoy seeing him a little off kilter and a lot out of control. Just looking at how his employees have relaxed since he’s been more relaxed - due to Eda’s influence - is a great subtle storytelling mechanism as well.

Immensely enjoyed Nurse Eda - especially her traditional approach to checking temperatures. LOL. Just a comment that despite Eda believing Serkan and Selin are most likely a thing, she refuses to leave his side in deference to Selin. I totally loved seeing her stake her claim. And judging by the never-you-mind, irritated way with which Serkan basically told Selin to move along, Serkan doesn’t want people around when he’s sick - but he certainly wants Eda.

Serkan going from unable to communicate to “you’re constantly in my head, in my every thought! You’ve taken over my brain! You’ve taken over my entire life!” #FlingsSelfIntoTheSun

THE KISS. Beautiful cinematography, beautiful direction, gorgeous cast, amazing script. Loved everything about it.

Things that broke/confused me

Serkan being a complete dolt and instead of enjoying the woman he loves cuddled up beside him, he takes the time to reiterate that he doesn’t remember their conversation from the night before. SMH. Eda was about to risk it all one last time, and Serkan’s poorly timed dose of realness is the final straw.

The tears in his eyes when she left the office. He was still fighting being vulnerable, even after Eda basically gave him the roadmap with an x for how to achieve success. Thankfully, by episodes end his own desperation at potentially losing her outweighed his “logic” and self preservation. Eda is teaching Serkan that its okay to need other people and that he doesn’t have to shoulder everything alone. #MyEndlessFloodOfTears

Aydan being unable to see how very much Serkan loves Eda and her - bordering on delusional at this point - push for Serkan to marry a woman who inspires no passion, no interest, no life, no spark in him! I understood it initially. But now it’s just comical. Seyfi is clearly team #Edser. I know the Bolat’s have a history of trauma. But pushing Serkan into a loveless marriage, while hurting Ferit and potentially Eda (and Serkan himself) seems absurd to me.

Ayfer’s reaction to the contract was OOT IMO. The show has been quite light handed with drama and this was the first time I thought the hysterics was over done. I understand that it was a shock, I understand that feelings of betrayal and hurt are natural. But a moment of reflection - as well as allowing Eda to explain - would have easily highlighted what Ayfer already knows - that there is a lot more happening between Eda and Serkan than a mere contract. Furthermore, this “Serkan Bolat is the devil incarnate here to take advantage of our poor Eda” is ridiculous. Serkan is a good person - logical and sometimes aloof - but he isn’t devious. If anything, Ayfer getting to know him during their terrarium creating afternoon left her with a good impression of who he is. So unless there are missing scenes somewhere, her suddenly being anti-Serkan feels like a necessity to serve the upcoming plot, as opposed to an organic happenstance. Not my favourite development. This includes her orchestrating Eda’s scholarship in Italy. Feels out of character. But let’s see how it all plays out.

Things I know is coming:

From the fragman, Serkan names a star or something after her #squee

Selin finally getting it

Aydan not getting it

Seyfi being over the moon - along with Melo no doubt

D R A M A about parents and death and cover-ups but I’m ignoring that for now

And most importantly:

Dating

Kissing

Hugging

Giggles

#FlingsSelfIntoTheEverLovingSun #NotPrepared

[hecohansen31]

Hello love, I’d love to request an Aethelred imagine. I’d love kiss prompt 32 A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards., and the prompt “i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met”. Thank you so much and have fun!!

WARNINGS: Slight Sexism, Inaccurate Downtown Abbey, Slight Angst.

You loved your lady, but she always put you in more trouble than it was proper for a normal maid.

You remembered perfectly that time she had slipped a frog inside your dress, because she was curious of the reaction you’d have, just for you to drop an entire teapot of boiling tea on the old matriarch of the Crawley family.

You had then risked being fired, hadn’t your lady stepped in, saying that you weren’t to be blamed.

But this time, you’d be for sure blamed, if anybody found out.

Sybil kept on trying to tighten the corset she had lent you around your waist, as you commented on why it was such a bad idea for you to fake being a lady for a day.

‘Oh c’mon!’ she had protested, each time you put some resistance against her crazed plan ‘… have you seriously never thought how you’d look in a proper lady dress with a fan to hide your smile and somebody to order around’.

‘Honestly no’ you had replied tightly, as you took a deep breath in, because the corset was digging thoroughly in your lungs ‘… I never have much time to think about anything that isn’t my daily chores’.

‘One more reason to have one day of freedom!’ had chanted Sybil and you had known that you didn’t have any chance to avoid this ‘… you’ll enjoy this I am sure’.

But you were sure that the only one who’d enjoy this would be her.

Although Sybil was certainly a sweetheart who wanted to help everybody, you knew that the true reason why she wanted you beside her was to avoid facing lady Judith on her own.

Lady Judith was the highborn lady she was supposed to meet for a tea, because she had two handsome bachelor sons.

And lady Sybil was right in the age for a marriage.

So, she hoped that bringing you with her would shift away the attention away from her and you had to say that hadn’t it been against the rules, you’d have gladly accompanied Sybil, seeing how nervous she was about all of this, although she kept up her bubbly personality, as a shield.

But all it took was one harsh look from lady Judith to make Sybil’s shield broke, as you were both let in the rich house.

You immediately tried to adjust yourself in the rich clothes Sybil had lent you, uncomfortable with the way the jewelry touched your skin.

But the sight of you seemed to please lady Judith who insisted with Sybil to know your name and every other bit of information that she could find on you.

‘Oh this is (Y/N)’ lied amazingly Sybil as tea was served and you hid under the elegant teacup ‘… she is a cousin of us, coming from the countryside to Downtown to explore a bit our life, alongside having a bit of fun with our family’.

You simply nodded, faking the ‘shy cousin act’, as you ducked lightly your head, meanwhile lady Judith’s eyes scanned you completely from head to toe, eventually deeming you both worthy of meeting her ‘beloved sons’, making a maid call for them and it took you everything to stop yourself from following the waitress, sure that would have been your job.

Sybil, seeing your uneasiness, moved to link your hands with a soft whisper to remind you to breath, as you sipped the tea in order to calm a bit your nerves, although suddenly you were faced with the dilemma about how to properly drink tea.

So, you drank it with a gulp as soon as lady Judith turned.

And suddenly two boys appeared on the threshold, the waitress, indeed excusing herself and offering to bring you a few scones for the afternoon tea.

‘… lady Sybil and lady (Y/N) might I present you my beloved sons?’ offered Judith, and after she had uttered those words the boys moved further up, stepping in the light of the elegant parlor, as they moved to kiss your hand, something that made you blush, even more when the older one did it.

Or at least you assumed he was the older one.

He was much bigger than his brother, although they shared the same color of eyes and hair, in an elegant mixture of dark hair and light eyes, a true enchanting combination that got you quite curious to spy on them as they set on a nearby sofa, after they had presented themselves as Aethelred and Alfred York.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, ladies’ spoke Aethelred, as his eyes suddenly set on you, catching you right as you were spying on him, making you retreat yourself further in your body, and he took his own cup of tea, meanwhile his brother was happy to beam in his brother’s shadow.

And his mother’s adoring gaze.

Because a few moments in the afternoon tea, you obviously understood that Alfred was her favorite, the one she wouldn’t have given up easily.

And she wouldn’t have, because Sybil looked as interested with Alfred as she would have been interested in obeying his parents’ orders and Aethelred’s eyes hadn’t left yours for the entire tea, as you, instead, tried to hide yourself away, hoping not to leave a lasting impression in Judith’s elegant living room.

But sadly, Aethelred had other plans for you.

The conversation was getting heated, since Judith had brought up the importance of the role a woman had in her family and Sybil, always the fighter, had had to give her own piece of mind, shocking lady Judith enough to make her light eyes, lighter.

But what had been a true shock for her had been when Aethelred had lightly shushed the ‘fight’ between Sybil and her mother, to shoot you a quick look.

‘And what do you think of this, lady (Y/N)?’.

You had risked almost spitting out the boiling tea in your mouth and you were glad for the fit of coughing that had given you the time of finding a proper reply.

Forgotten as soon as you caught Aethelred’s arrogant gaze setting on you.

‘I agree with lady Sybil’ Judith let out a shocked mumble, meanwhile Aethelred’s eyes opened with surprise at that comment ‘… why should a woman be simply a mother and not a mother and something else more? A man is allowed to have more than that, why should we not have that as well?’.

Sybil, who usually had to fend off to your annoying reminder of ‘behaving properly’ was looking at you with wide open eyes, before she quirked her lips in a smirk, glad to have settled that she wouldn’t have for sure married with any of Lady Judith’s sons.

And you hadn’t had enough.

‘… what do you think of this, lord Aethelred?’ you teased him back, and he looked almost hit by your quick wit, answering in a blabbered mess, before he sent you a defeated smirk, his beautiful eyes offering a peace declaration, something that made you blush, because it made his eyes softer, almost genuine.

And this was the reason why you suddenly were happy to accompany, again, in clothes not yours, Sybil to lady Judith’s parlor, softly smiling at the woman, who couldn’t tolerate you but his son, Aethelred, seemed quite fascinated by you.

And you were as well taken.

Enough to make you forget of the consequences of being caught and discovered as nothing more than the maid you were.

But when Aethelred would spar his wits with you…

… it wasn’t easy to simply hide the truth and speak with him.

Since he had soon noticed his mother’s distaste for you, which came with more and more question about you.

Something that made you uneasy and Aethelred was quite able to catch on it, eventually asking to see you at Downtown.

You denied him, faking some innocence you didn’t own, as you suggested letters as a middleground, finding out that the forgotten lord was quite the poet.

He had wanted to be a poet, although his mother had insisted for him to pursue a career as a physician, although he had always been fund of letters, suggesting you books that Sybil would lend you, as you almost imagined Aethelred reading them for you.

He was so in love with you that his letters had grown quite bold, and you had learned to hide them even from your beloved friend Sybil, who’d try to sneak a little peek meanwhile you read them, but you always clutched them closer to your chest, a small act of privacy-

Aethelred had taken to describing how it’d feel to kiss your lips, and in your answer to him you’d protest with your face red as you told him ‘what an improper gentleman he was’ before asking him to indulge you in more, to let you know what he’d do if he could kiss your neck.

What had started with a game, had you developing feelings for your own personal poet.

Which wasn’t in the slightest proper.

And you should have seen that it would have ended badly.

But taken in the spires of love, you would have flown over Downtown Abbey by how light you felt.

Without any worry to be discovered.

Even more now that your relationship had become one of rather ‘tempting’ letters.

But then it happened.

You were running to Sybil’s room with a set of her clothes in your arms, decked in your maid uniform, a bit tired by your hard chores, but looking forward to the night when you’d be able to consume a good candle in your rereading of Aethelred’s latest letters.

You hadn’t received many lately, but you simply thought he was too taken by his own business, or maybe he had forbidden by his mother to write you, almost as the epic forbidden lovers of the novel that Sybil hated but you had found in lady Edith’s room.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even been looking where you were going, and you crashed clumsily against a steady chest as you prayed that it wasn’t any of the lords or Thomas, because that butler was… intolerable.

But it was worse.

It was Aethelred.

He looked surprised and quickly helped you up, his lovesick gaze matching your shocked one, as you saw an horrible accident appear upon your eyes.

If he had noticed your maid uniform, he certainly didn’t mention it.

‘Oh lady (Y/N)!” he spoke gingerly and happily, as he gently grasped your hand, and hadn’t you been so so terrorized of having been discovered, you would have cherished that soft gesture “… I was looking rightfully for you, I just couldn’t wait to see you again that I thought to be bold and finally lay my kiss upon your perfect lips”.

And now you didn’t know whether you were blushing for his words or for your inevitable demise.

“You shouldn’t be here” you were simply able to utter, as you tried to look to see if anybody was coming.

Aethelred confused your nervousness with embarrassment, and he moved to comfort you, coming much closer than it was proper as he grabbed onto your hands, at the same time you saw Mr. Barrow appearing on the stairs.

Something that made you immediately push Aethelred away.

And you turned, immediately grabbing onto the clothes that had fallen onto the floor, busying yourself, meanwhile Mr. Barrow moved to talk with Aethelred, asking him if he needed any help.

If he was searching for somebody.

And he quickly looked at you, but before he could reply, you did it for him.

“… he is looking for lady Sybil, Mr. Barrow, I accidentally bumped in him” you had commented and you tried to sound as innocent as you could, not wanting the devilish Mr. Barrow to suspect anything, as you smiled softly to make him leave you both alone “… I’ll accompany him to lady Sybil, don’t worry Mr. Barrow”.

“Of course, Mrs. (L/N)” commented the butler, although he shot you a suspicious look but left you with Aethelred, who looked positively surprised, as you had been of seeing him that day.

And then knowledge settled on his face and mind.

“… you are a maid”.

“I am lady Sybil’s maid” you explained, not properly knowing how to deal with all of this.

How to soften the news.

“… you lied to me” his reply hurt you painfully “… you… you pretended to be someone else”.

“I didn’t mean to, I…!”.

“And you kept this up for so long” the fact that he wasn’t screaming at you was worse than anything else “… I… I need to go”.

“Aethelred!” you tried to call to him, but he still turned and left you.

And suddenly all your daydreams were broken.

---

You had been able to avoid during anymore chores, calling in a few favors you had done to the staff of Downtown Abbey, and you had been able to mope in your room alone, as you thought about the fact that not only your ‘fairytale’ had just ended, but also replaying Aethelred’s sad expression.

He had looked utterly betrayed by your confession and hadn’t been able to listen to your explanation.

Although you weren’t sure that it would have been a proper explanation.

You shouldn’t have strung him up for so long, without telling me who you truly were.

But if you had told him, you would have never seen him again.

And… the thought broke your heart.

Because now, for sure, you’d never see him again.

You were clutching the letters to your chest, when you felt a solid knock at your door, thinking that it was either Mrs. Hughes checking on you or lady Sybil who probably had been alerted of Aethelred’s presence.

Either way you mumbled a small ‘leave me alone, I am fine’.

But it wasn’t enough and the door opened to reveal a rather distinguished Mr. Barrow, that made you hiss painfully embarrassed as you knew that you’d either be fired or he’d make terrible fun of you.

And still both the perspectives hurt you less than the thought of having broken Aethelred’s heart.

“Mrs. (Y/N)” he called out to you, as you at least tried to keep a bit of your decency, hiding the letters and adjusting your nightgown “… I wanted to check if you were alright, you seemed rather shaken after your encounter with lord Aethelred”.

His tone held a knowing tone that had you almost choking on your own as you tried to avoid tears, but when you looked up to him, he didn’t have in the slightest any cruel or joking smirk, but instead his eyes were almost… vulnerable.

“I am alright, nothing to worry, Mr. Barrow” you replied softly, trying to cut this shortly “…it is better that I go to sleep, tomorrow it’ll be a rather busy morn….”.

“I know what it feels like to love someone you can’t have” he commented, again no joking sound in his smile as he gently smiled at you, sadness spreading in it, as you strangely thought about all the rumors you had heard about him “… it’ll hurt for a bit, but eventually it’ll get better… you get used to it”.

“Right now it feels like I am being thrown apart” you commented, not even knowing why you were uttering such a private speech and showing such a private part of your soul to one of the worst members of the staff, one that wouldn’t hesitate to fight you and tease you.

But you felt like you shared a common pain.

“… it’ll get better” he promised “… I’d suggest a bit of chocolate in the meanwhile”.

His small smile made your lips quirk up a bit in the resemblance of a smile.

“… and he wasn’t that handsome”.

You now full on giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

“Maybe to you, Mr. Barrow, but to me he is the most handsome man in the whole world” you commented softly, earning a light look of annoyance from the butler who made you smirk softly.

“...don’t make me criticize your taste in men, Mrs. (Y/N)” replied tightly the man, before moving away, with one last look and then your heartbreak appeared again, but you did sleep a bit better, after having stolen a bit of chocolate and working around helped you quite a bit.

You were in the kitchen getting breakfast ready for lady Sybil so that you could spend the morning together, since you had promised to tell her everything about Aethelred, when you heard your name being called out by a male voice.

Aethelred’s voice.

At first you thought it was simply an hallucination, your annoying brain playing a trick on you, but then there was Aethelred, standing in the middle of the kitchen much to the awe of all the staff, who was quickly brought back to their mansions by Mrs. Hughes, who shot you a confused look, but Mr. Barrow simply replied to her confused look, as if to say ‘I’ll explain you’.

And you were soon left alone in the kitchen with lord Aethelred.

Your mind could only think that he was there simply to make sure that you were fired.

But yet your mouth spoke on its own, able to finally explain yourself properly, as Aethelred called out again your name.

“… Mrs. (Y/N)”.

“Please just… hear me out first, lord Aethelred, I haven’t… I wasn’t correct with you…” you spit out almost on your own “… I lied to you, that is true, but… I didn’t meant to, because let me tell you… it was the only way I would have kept on seeing you, because you see…”.

Your cheeks flushed, as you struggled with saying the words.

They were easy to write but to mean them…

… it was the most difficult thing ever.

It would break your heart further.

“… I have fallen in love with you” but it seemed an extreme relief to finally be able to say it, although you were sure it wouldn’t change anything “… but I am a maid and you are a lord, but yet… it was all my fault, I shouldn’t have…”.

And then before you knew it, Aethelred’s lips were on yours, with such a passion that you were taken aback, but soon your body seemed to take the lead and replied with as much passion as his, your hands setting on his perfect hair, meanwhile his gently set on your waist softly and without tightening his grip.

But he was there, and it was real.

Yet, you kept your eyes closed after the kiss, worried that it might all be a dream.

And Aethelred did the same, as you opened one eye to make sure that you suddenly hadn’t simply dreamt it all up.

But you hadn’t and slowly Aethelred’s light eyes met yours.

And he spoke.

“I’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met” he confessed you, and you were sure it was a dream, till he brought you closer.

And you felt his warmth and delicious smell.

“The fact that you are a maid doesn’t change anything for me” he spoke truly, his eyes shining with excitement “… just… tell me the truth from now on, alright?”.

“Alright, lord Aethelred” you promised him with a soft smile and before you knew it, he had to kiss it, making you giggle in the kiss.

“Well then I do think that we’ll have quite a nice time, lady (Y/N)”.

[thecoleopterawithana]

Hello! I really adore your blog and all the work you put into it! It's well appriciated. Anyways, a real question - how do you feel about Paul and Jane's relationship? Because it confuses me on so many levels. I find it very hard to believe she didn't know about his many affairs while they were together, yet the public reason for their break up is his adultery with Francie who denied that (I mean who even reported that?). 1/3

The other thing that confuses me is the fact that he was writing basically break up songs (but I didn’t register a lot of love there tbh) back in 66 and they somehow managed to last until 68, even though they totally didn’t give the impression of a good match (her ambition and his desire for housewife/bachelor life) nor did they seem as if they loved each other very much (at least publically).

The last part of the question, are you aware of a love song he wrote for her? I know some people think Here There and Everywhere but her brother apparently disagrees. Anyways, these are just my feelings and idk if I am not under a wrong impression here or something. I also don’t want it to sound like I am theoretizing here about it being a cover up for mclennon - because I am not! I think of it more as a publicity stunt for publicity…

…(even though I think it evolved into that over the course of time and it began more like Paul showing off with this pretty actress he managed to woo). What do you think? Thank you for your answer and sorry for the lenght, haha! R. 😎

Hey there! Thank you so much for the ask and a million apologies for taking so long to answer! It’s just that I had no opinion to speak of, at the time. 

I was just beginning to attempt getting a grasp on Paul– and to better comprehend my main interest of Lennon/McCartney– and hadn’t branched into the other people in his life yet. But to reach a true understanding, it is crucial to look at the full picture; and Jane was very much part of that picture, during a long and formative time!

Now, I must warn you that I’m nowhere near a Jane Asher connoisseur! This post comes with the disclaimer that I don’t feel adequately informed to answer it. But you asked, and it has been sitting in my inbox long enough, so… take my personal opinions for what they (always) are: honest (but probably flawed) attempts at understanding the emotional workings of human beings, based on the information available to me at the time. 

But because I feel like there is more information out there that I just didn’t find in the targeted research for this post, I urge more knowledgeable fans to give their contributions and/or correct me if I make some factual mistake. 

So, disclaimer given, here’s the actual answer:

I understand and empathize with your confusion regarding their relationship. I think it’s just a feeling that arises from the lack of information. After all, theirs was a relationship under intense public scrutiny from the very beginning, but whose actual inner workings were kept – through the effort of both parties – determinately private and personal. That’s always how Paul prefered it. And, effectively demonstrated by her resolute silence since, so has Jane. 

The main feeling I get from Paul and Jane is that they were both incredibly similar people, who also had somewhat separate interests. And this seems to have been both what attracted them to one another, and what eventually made them grow apart. 

Both of them were very socially adept; “good mixers”. Brian Sommerville (the Beatles’ publicity manager from 1963-1964) describes Jane as “a very sweet, extroverted girl […] bright, very conversational and full of fun”. This kind of sounds like Paul at his most gregarious. 

They were incredibly intelligent. And if Jane was cultured and knowledgeable, Paul was intensely curious, and soon became cultured and knowledgeable himself. And Paul himself openly admits that he was always attracted to “intelligent and talented people”. 

And we must acknowledge that the Asher’s lifestyle as a whole was something that captivated Paul (enough to have him literally move in with them as soon as he could). It had been instilled into him from early on, after all, this great appreciation for education and the drive to do better and rise out of his circumstances. 

[My parents] aspired to a better life. That idea that we had to get out of here, we had to do better than this. This was okay for everyone else in the street but we could do better than this. She was always moving to what she saw as a better place to bring her kids up.

[…]

My parents aspired for us, very much indeed. That is one of the great things you can find in ordinary people. My mum wanted me to be a doctor. ‘My son the doctor’ - and her being a nurse, too. No problem there. And my dad, who left school at fourteen, would have loved me to be a great scientist, a great university graduate. I always feel grateful for that. I mean, God, I certainly fulfilled their aspirations, talk about overachieving! That was all bred into me, that.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

People call Paul a “social climber” to demean him; and because the term is used to attack him, others defend him by saying his relationship with Jane had nothing to do with social climbing. But I don’t think this should be derogatory in the first place! 

Paul was ambitious; he did want to gain a higher social status. Not because he felt that made him inherently better than others; he’d just been raised to feel a sense of responsibility for being the best that he could be, and not live in poverty anymore! And what’s wrong with that, I’d like to know? 

All the Beatles wanted success, fame and status, so all of them were social climbers, in a sense. 

So what if one of the things that attracted Paul to Jane was that she was educated and cultured? It seems like a perfectly valid reason to be genuinely into someone to me.

Of course, both of them were beautiful. As Tony Barrow (the Beatles’ press officer) put it: “There was something about seeing them together that was magical. With those two gorgeous faces and all that incredible charisma, they looked like a couple of Greek gods.”  So the physical attraction was also obviously there.

And I don’t doubt that Paul was proud to have such a beautiful, talented and interesting person as a girlfriend, and might have felt like showing her off to friends. But I don’t think that lessens how enamoured they were with one another. If the whole relationship was being performed for outwards appreciation, I feel like there’d be a lot more performing going on. Instead, they never revealed more than they needed to, nor did they stop living to hide from the public eye. 

If there publicity strategies to it, they never came from Brian Epstein himself, who actually thought that the Beatles having girlfriends was a marketing mistake:

There was a considerable difference of opinion over the Jane Asher situation. Brian made a terrible fuss about it, saying that it would offend the fans. But, in effect, Paul just told him to mind his own business. Brian was probably just being over-cautious, and Paul more far-sighted, knowing that that sort of thing didn’t matter. But at the time it was a textbook rule of publicity that the artist must appear single and available.

— Brian Sommerville, in Chris Salewicz’s McCartney (1986).   

So the relationship wasn’t arranged as a publicity stunt. I feel like everything points to them just genuinely liking each other. 

(And now just an honest question to those of you who’ve been longer in the fandom: is George’s relationship with Pattie Boyd also suspected to be a publicity stunt? Because I don’t know if this has just escaped my notice, or if this claim is something that afflicts only Paul and Jane specifically. And if so, why do you think that is?)

But going back to their similarities, both Jane and Paul were incredibly independent, self-assured and work-oriented. And I think it was the clash of their strong personalities that actually caused the bumps in the relationship. 

Paul likes to be in control of himself and to some extent the environment around him. And he’d grown up in a society where it was acceptable for that to extend to his girlfriends. 

John and I lusted after Brigitte Bardot in our teen yearsand tried to make our girlfriends look like her. […] I had a girlfriend called Dot, Dorothy Rohne, who was my steady girlfriend forquite a long time in Liverpool. She and John’s girlfriend, later wife, CynthiaPowell, came over to Hamburg and I remember buying her a leather skirt andencouraging her to grow her hair long so she’d look like Brigitte.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997). 

Jane, of course, wasn’t willing to be moulded so easily.

That’s typical Paul [wanting me to stay inside the George V Hotel with the band instead of going out by myself to see Paris]. It’s just so silly of me to stay at the hotel. It’s just that he’s so insecure. For instance, he keeps saying he’s not interested in the future, but he must be because he says it so often. The trouble is, he wants the fans’ adulation and mine too. He’s so selfish, it’s his biggest fault. He can’t see that my feelings for him are real and that the fans’ are fantasy. Of course, it’s the trouble with all boys.

—Jane Asher, c/o Michael Braun, Love Me Do!: The Beatles’ Progress. (1964)

This little passage shows us Jane’s insights into the “darker” sides of Paul’s character that other’s wouldn’t often see. His insecurities: fear that Jane would betray him, anxieties about the future and his need to be liked. And this level of understanding shows either an incredible perceptiveness and emotional intelligence on Jane’s part, or it is another sign of how close they were and how well they knew each other. 

That Paul was understood like that by another person is extremely important! As he was reported saying after their breakup in 1968: 

Jane wasn’t just my woman, she was my closest friend. I’ve told her everything inside me. She knows what makes me tick down to things that happened as a kid. I went right through all the stuff about my mother dying and how I dealt with that. With Jane, I could just relax completely and be myself and that seemed to be what she wanted. With the other women, I’m a fucking millionaire rock star who just happens to be about as shallow as a puddle.

—in Alistair Taylor’s With the Beatles (2003).

Or just before that, as observed during the extensive interviews for the Beatles’ authorized biography, in 1967:

[Paul’s] life is much quieter and more ordered now. Paul is very communicative about himself, unlike the others. He talks everything over with Jane. She knows what he’s thinking.

— in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles (1968).

And I can’t stress enough how significant it is that Paul was open in such a way! It just shows how much he respected and trusted Jane. 

And I think she also trusted him. With this I don’t mean to say that she trusted him not to sleep around; I don’t believe for a minute she didn’t know about it. And because she doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of person who would endure it if she was actually betrayed and hurt by this, my personal opinion is that this was a given; something known and accepted between them. And probably not just one-way either. They spent long periods apart, after all, and I think both Paul and Jane had agreed between themselves that it was okay to have affairs. I don’t know exactly the specifics of it, or if this was revoked when they got engaged. 

But I don’t think that was the (main) reason the engagement was called off either.

It is clear they enjoyed the other’s company, from the amount of time they spent on outings and holidays alone together. But both also seem rather uncompromising in respects to their personal careers, and that probably lead to clashes. During 1965 they spend a lot of time apart when Jane pursues her acting career in Bristol Old Vic company.

My whole existence for so long centred around a bachelor life. I didn’t treat women as most people do. I’ve always had a lot around, even when I’ve had a steady girl. My life generally has always been very lax, and not normal.

I knew it was selfish. It caused a few rows. Jane left me once and went off to Bristol to act. I said OK then, leave, I’ll find someone else. It was shattering to be without her.

— Paul McCartney, in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles (1968).

Paul’s frustrations were exercised through ‘We Can Work It Out’ and ‘I’m Looking Through You’:

I wrote quite a lot of stuff up in that room actually [in Jane Asher’s family home]. I’m Looking Through You I seem to remember after an argument with Jane. There were a few of those moments. […]

As is one’s wont in relationships, you will from time to time argue or not see eye to eye on things, and a couple of the songs around this period were that kind of thing. This one I remember particularly as me being disillusioned over her commitment. She went down to the Bristol Old Vic quite a lot around this time. Suffice to say that this one was probably related to that romantic episode and I was seeing through her façade. And realising that it wasn’t quite all that it seemed. I would write it out in a song and then I’ve got rid of the emotion. I don’t hold grudges so that gets rid of that little bit of emotional baggage. I remember specifically this one being about that, getting rid of some emotional baggage. ‘I’m looking through you, and you’re not there!’

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

You’re thinking of me the same old wayYou were above me, but not todayThe only difference is you’re down thereI’m looking through you and you’re nowhere

Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right? Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

I’m looking through you, where did you go I thought I knew you, what did I know You don’t look different, but you have changedI’m looking through you, you’re not the same

Paul was especially shaken by this episode when it became apparent that she might actually leave him for her other boyfriend:

I remember more one time when she was working at the Bristol Old Vic and she’d got a boyfriend in Bristol and was going to leave me for him. That was wildly traumatic, that was ‘Uhhhh!’ Total rejection!

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

So to lead a better life, Paul needs his love to be here, but Jane was pursuing her own dreams:

Jane loved acting and Jane loved Paul, but she wasn’t about to give one up for the other. […] Of all the plum roles that had come her way, the Subservient Beatles Woman was the only one Jane Asher refused to play. […] She had too much going for her to take a backseat to anyone, much less her mate. From the beginning, Paul had a hard time keeping up with her. Jane’s diary, which she lived by, was a clutter of fascinating appointments and social commitments. “I was amazed by the diary,” Paul admitted. “I’ve never known people who stuffed so much into a day.” There were auditions, meetings with television and movie producers, vocal lessons, acting classes, fittings, gallery debuts, screenings, recitals, opening nights. […] “Paul was clearly in awe of her,” says Peter Brown. 

— in Bob Spitz’s The Beatles: The Biography (2005).

And though they both loved culture and the swinging London scene, Jane wasn’t into all the drugs or the rock-n’-roll world. So when they moved together to Cavendish in March 1966, their slightly different social circles often didn’t mix well.

At Wimpole Street, he and Jane had kept their social lives mainly separate. At Cavendish, she naturally wanted to entertain her theatre friends, and the mix of luvvies and rockers could sometimes be awkward. One evening when she had some fellow actors to dinner, Paul arrived home with John, who–whether the result of drink or pot or just plain Lennonness–was at his most maliciously provocative. When one of the actresses at the table nervously requested an ashtray, he knelt beside her and facetiously offered one of his nostrils for the purpose. Jane, with her usual sangfroid, simply extended a foot and pushed him over.

— in Phillip Norman’s Paul McCartney: The Biography (2016).

On this same month, during a skiing holiday in Switzerland, Paul writes ‘For No One’.

It was very nice and I remember writing 'For No One’ there.I suspect it was about another argument. I don’t have easy relationships withwomen, I never have. I talk too much truth.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

It’s interesting to me that Paul’s problem in his relationship with women is “talking too much truth”. But by the lyrics in the song, we see that once again Paul is struggling with Jane’s self-reliance and her perceived lack-of-interest for him (which I also find endlessly ironic):

She wakes up, she makes upShe takes her time and doesn’t feel she has to hurryShe no longer needs you

You want her, you need herAnd yet you don’t believe her when she says her love is deadYou think she needs you

You stay home, she goes outShe says that long ago she knew someone but now he’s goneShe doesn’t need him

Your day breaks, your mind achesThere will be times when all the things she said will fill your headYou won’t forget her

And in her eyes you see nothingNo sign of love behind the tearsCried for no oneA love that should have lasted years!

The next big separation comes in 1967, when Jane goes on a tour of the US for the first five months of the year. This was, of course, a time of tectonic changes within the Beatles and in Paul’s life. 

When I came back after five months, Paul had changed so much. He was on LSD which I hadn’t shared. I was jealous of the spiritual experiences he’d had with John.

—Jane Asher, in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles (1968).

It must have been extremely disorientating to come back to the tripping, summer-of-love, looking-for-the-Meaning Paul. But to their credit, they did try to get to know one another again; reconnect:

On Jane’s return from America, she and Paul made a last-ditch stand to consolidate their relationship. Jane, unusually, even accompanied Paul to a recording session on 20 July 1967 […] Two days after the session, Jane accompanied Paul to Greece with the other Beatles. In August Jane was with him on the trip to Bangor to be initiated by the Maharishi, and during the difficult days following Brian’s death she was clearly a great source of strength and comfort to him; someone familiar and safe he could trust and confide in; someone with all the attributes of a wife. They spent the first three weeks of December alone together in Paul’s remote Scottish farm­house and four days later, on Christmas Day, 1967, they announced to Paul’s family - perhaps slightly to their own surprise - their engagement.

— in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

Jane and Paul make a very loving and lovely couple. Everyone agrees on this. […] Paul and Jane have more time together, on their own, than probably the other Beatle couples. They do get away together, to places like their Scottish home, thanks to Jane. They were the first to want to move to the country for good, to a quieter smaller house, which John and George now also want to do.

—in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles (1968).

When they got engaged, on Christmas Day 1967, all these problems were in the past. Maharishi, for a long time, was the only little point of difference, although it was all amicable. Jane didn’t fall for him when the others did, although she understood the attraction. She would obviously have preferred to try to reach a spiritual state on their own. Paul wasn’t as committed as George and John when he went with Jane to India in 1968, but he felt there was something there that would help him, that might answer his questions. So Jane agreed to go with him. 

— in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles (1968).

Suffice it to say, Paul didn’t get his answers. In fact, the reality he knew was about to crumble.

The summer of 1968 was a horrible storm of drugs, anxiety and heartbreak, where he had to take care of this budding enterprise while managing a band and losing both his partners. And I think Alistair Taylor’s descriptions of a completely wrecked Paul reflect all of that. 

It’s curious then how Paul recalls his reaction to the calling off of the engagement later:

I don’t remember [his and Jane’s eventual] breakup as being traumatic, really. I remember more one time when she was working at the Bristol Old Vic and she’d got a boyfriend in Bristol and was going to leave me for him. That was wildly traumatic, that was ‘Uhhhh!’ Total rejection! We got back together again but I had already gone through that when we eventually split up. It seemed it had to happen. It felt right.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

They were eventually both at peace with the decision. Paul has expressed that he had an intuitive unconscious reticence over actually marrying Jane. And Jane herself had felt that they’d grown too much and apart as people. She surmises: 

“And I had four [wonderful years].

“No, it wasn’t love at first sight on my side. It was several months before I felt at all certain. And of course, I was young. Only seventeen. Inevitably, one changes. After all, Paul himself was only twenty when we met.

“I knew in my bones that the break must inevitably come a long time before it actually happened. Although we had this emotional thing for each other, we found it difficult to be really happy together.”

I remembered, then, the character in another play who had cried: “I am not offering you happiness, but love.” And I remembered, too, how that great J. L. Garvin had once told me when I was Jane’s age: “Everything in life makes either for happiness or experience.”

“And sometimes the experience is more important,” I suggested now.

She nodded as she got up to go.

“I long to improve as an actress and I hope what’s happened to me will make me understand more fully the characters I am asked to play. Anyway, I promise you, I wouldn’t not have had it happen. I mean, I am very, very grateful for those four years. And I am not going to look back in bitterness or anger, but only forward.

“People are such bores who make a drama out of their lost loves. In every case someone has to fall out of love first.”

—Jane Asher, interview w/ Godfrey Winn for The Australian Women’s Weekly: Girl with a broken love affair. (April 23rd, 1969)

So here’s my overview of Paul and Jane. 

I feel like their relationship was very genuine and organic, so much so that they eventually grew in different directions. But they were nevertheless very important and formative figures in each other’s lives. 

And it was personally very interesting for me to see this side of Paul too, the one whose needs are left unmet by a driven, work-oriented, independent partner, and how he reacted to that. 

Jane herself is an awesome woman in her own right, and I loved this chance to get to know her a little better.

As for love songs written from Paul to Jane, I would ask for the help of more well-informed fans! I’m sure many of the feelings expressed in his love songs were also inspired in part by his experiences with Jane. Is there one particular song out there which has been stated to be about her?

[fictional-cuties]

Hey! I was wondering if I could get a marvel and bnha matchup. I’m 5’6” bi girl and have short dark hair and blue eyes. I may seem cold, near emotionless and very rude when you first meet me but when you get to know me more I’m really extroverted, nice and easily excitable. Some may describe me as annoying and weird but that’s fine as insults don’t really get to me. I can be very serious and sometimes even a bit dark but most often I can be found excitedly chatting about anime to my friends.

hi ! so sorry for the long wait. school has been kicking my ass. anyway here you go:

For Marvel, I match you with...

Gamora!

-It was never easy for her to feel like someone understood her until you.

-Don’t get her wrong, she loves her stupid little guardians, but sometimes she really just feels like its her against them.

-Then there was you, who just like her had a sense of level-headedness and took things a little more seriously.

-Shes not one to trust easy, until the two of you started.

-You confessed first, nervous for her response but inside you were confident she had felt the same.

-She awkwardly tells you of her feelings and the two of you become the cutest little couple.

-She also loves watching you goof off with the guardians. You’re usually the only one that can get her to join the shenanigans.

-She likes to have simple dates with you, like just sitting at some alien version of a coffee shop and chit-chatting, or sitting on the ledge of the spaceship when its docked and staring at the galaxy.

-She’s so soft with you, which is unexpected. For once in her life she completely lets her guard down and can only hope you do the same.

-Will also dropkick Peter anytime he makes comments about joining you guys and becoming poly (but wouldn’t be opposed if you were interested...)

For BNHA, I match you with...

Tamaki Amajiki!

-Oh my god this boy was shitting his pants trying to ask you to some school dance. Lowkey you intimidated him, but thats what kept him so drawn to you.

-He just kinda awkwardly muttered to you that you’d be going on a date, to which you asked him to speak up and ask you properly before you jokingly shushed him and agreed to go with him.

-You were surprised at how hard he was trying to impress you when he picked you up at 8:00 sharp for the dance.

-Not only that but he specifically matched his tie to your outfit without you asking. So thoughtful.

-He also brought you your favorite kind of flowers.

-It was obvious he was trying hard, but not in a douche kind of way. He genuinely just wanted you to like him.

-And honestly? Despite him trying his best to be proper, his true, awkward nature shown through and it was beyond adorable.

-Over time, the two of you become a very cute couple, with you taking the lead.

-You become surprised to know that the quietest ones really do have the most to say, as you can’t get this boy to shut up to save your life when you’re alone. Its fine, as hes just as willing to listen to you chew his ear off about anime.

[finnofhudson]

Ringing in 2020

who: @msjackierose and Cooper Anderson

what: Ringing in NYE 2020 on the beach in Doveport

warnings: none/slightly nsfw

Jackie: This last week had been a whirlwind, a ride that she knew she would never forget. And to think this was only the start of the adventure between her and Cooper. Jackie actually found herself wondering little things like how often he would actually visit once he goes. And little worries that he would forget about her the second he is back in the city. That is what made her so determined to make this whole trip amazing for him, every time she visited amazing. She was determined to impress him, something that Jackie didn’t do often, considering that she knew she could impress people effortlessly. And what better way to leave a lasting impression than to spend New Years with him? Being his first kiss and many wonderful firsts of the new year and decade. She took his hand as they made their way onto a more secluded part of the beach, away from the bonfire, her length of her dress and heels in her other hand. “Nice and quiet isn’t it?” She asked softly turning to look at him. A smile growing on her face, “How has your New Years Eve been far?” She asked, knowing it was probably written all over her face how much she hoped it was great so far.

Cooper: Cooper still had to shake his head at the last week.  While his arrival in Doveport could be described as rocky at best, especially with Blaine, the two had made enough of an amical resolve that Cooper was no longer dreading having rented the condo in town for so long.  That might also have something to do with the redheaded vixen that was currently his date for the evening.  Maybe. To be completely honest Cooper hadn't expected his online flirtationship with Jackie to go anywhere offline.  And definitely to not go where it had.  But she'd walked into his condo and shaken him and his life like they were a snow globe.  He hadn't expected to come to Doveport and find someone that he'd connect with in such a physical way.  And although there was definitely a lot of a physical connection between them, it wasn't just that.  He was slowly; it had only been a week or so after all,  getting to know her as a person as well.

Jackie was not at all what Cooper had expected.  She definitely fit his usual Hollywood standard.  Young, beautiful, charming; in short, great for his image.  But in LA those were the types of girls he dated but had a hard time connecting to more than superficially.  In Doveport,  apparently it was the type of woman he found himself completely captivated by.  He definitely didn't find himself worrying about his image when he was with her.  Not even as he shared things that were normally left for people he knew much better, for longer, and had built a trust with.  She somehow had elicited that trust for him without either of them really knowing it.  Or he just wasn't worried about it.  Cooper wasn't sure which.

Cooper took Jackie's hand and brought it up to his mouth and kissed over her knuckles.  "Down here, yes, it is nice and quiet," he said, referencing the way they were walking away from the large town bonfire.  And for that he was glad.  "It's very nice after the hustle and bustle of the holidays, and the loud parties and excitement of tonight."  He pulled her in front of him, her back to his chest, arms wrapping around her body as he bent his head to kiss along her neck and exposed collar bones.  "I was beginning to have a hard time wanting to keep my hands to myself.  Especially dressed like this, and watching everyone looking at you."  Cooper smiled against her neck.  "It's been a perfect way to end this year and decade.  And start the new one.   Thank you. I hope you too, are having an enjoyable time?"

Jackie: Jackie felt her smile soften when he kissed over her knuckles, she couldn't ignore of the simple acts of affection this last week were making her feel. It made her smile, it made her blush and she swore it made her heart flutter. Which amazed her. Just a week ago Cooper was a man she never met that she had fun exchanging flirtasious remarks to. Now here she was smiling at the way that he held her hand and how amazing he looked right next to her. This connection they made...she couldn't explain it. But at the same time she wasn't sure that she wanted to. It is what made this so special, so unique. "So nice." She hummed in agreement, her smile growing as he pulled her in front of him so she could rest against his chest. The second his arms wrapped around her she melted against his chest. Her hand moving to rest on top of his arms, her fingers brushing along his knuckles. A sigh leaving her lips once he started kissing her neck, moving her hair to the side for him. "Oh really? Now I wonder what was going through that mind of yours." She let her eyes close for a moment to take in the feeling. "Everyone looking at me? Is someone wishing only you could get to appreciate this dress?" She teased, feeling a blush grow on her cheeks when she felt his smile on her neck. "Perfect?" She asked softly, genuinely. "It is more than an enjoyable time. The best December...the best New Year that I could remember. Its perfect."

Cooper: "I think you know exactly what was going through this mind of mine," Cooper replied snarkily.  "I've been picturing you laid out in bed.  Picturing what you have on underneath."  He shook his head.  "No, of course not.  Everyone should appreciate you in this dress.  But they should be jealous that I'm going to see what it looks like on the floor to start off the new year and decade."  Copper tightened his hold around Jackie and hooked his chin over her shoulder, stopping kissing her neck for a minute to look out at the ocean.  "I hope I helped with that best December, what little part I played at the end."

Jackie: "Maybe I do but I love to hear what is on your mind." She teased with a smirk on her lips. "Mhm much better." She mumbled out when he explained what he saw. "I bet they are, handsome. Just as much as people were jealous of me getting to come and leave with you." When he tightened his hold on her a happy mumble left her lips, being so close to him made her feel nothing but warmth. More than just physical, it was more than that. She leaned her head against his once he looked out at the ocean. Jackie could never get over how beautiful it was, it was even better to enjoy it with company. "Of course you did. You were what made it so wonderful." She assured. "This week has made the whole year amazing."

Cooper: "Mostly you these days," Cooper laughed easily.  "I still can't believe you didn't have plans already when I asked.  I thought it was very much a long shot.  But yet, here we are.  And I'm very glad for it."  He inhaled the saltiness of the air deeply.  "That's...impressive.  Are you sure about that?"  Still he understood the sentiment.  "I hate to tell you this, because I'm afraid you'll stop trying, but you've already made my visit here memorable, and exciting, and one I'll never be sorry I made."

Jackie: "I tend to keep my schedule open, most people I know plan on the spot. It was nice to have something planned for a change." She let out a soft laugh, her eyes still out on the ocean. "Well...you made December a wonderful month thats for sure. Going to California earlier for a music video is pretty high on the list." She teased, her fingers tracing small shapes on his hand. "Oh I'll never stop trying." Jackie assured, turning her head to look at him."But honestly, I'm glad. It all started out as way to flirt with you but little did I know I was in for such a treat."

Cooper:"Wait... you were in California?  Do you come to California often?" Cooper asked, a little excitedly.  He shook his head at his own eagerness.  "When I'm working it's all about the schedule.  So I get the appeal of keeping things open.  But New Years Eve is a big thing and it should be something...planned.  And if I knew Doveport better, it would have been better planned before I even asked you; is all I'm saying."  He let out a sigh.  "But I also like knowing where I'm going.  And who is going to be there with me.   If I'm going to be alone in my bed at night..." Cooper trailed off.  As she turned her head, he spun her in his arms.  "Good.  I don't want you to stop.  I like it.  I like you in case that wasn't painfully obvious already.  We Andersons can be a bit obvious, and enthusiastic, perhaps overly so, and well, oblivious as well.  It's a dangerous combination really when it comes to the ol love life."  He nodded his head.  "You're good at that.  Very good.  The flirting, I mean.  And believe me when I say it's been a real treat for me too Jackie."

Jackie: Her eyebrows rose when she heard how excited he was, "Only a couple of times. After I started uploading my videos I jumped up in popularity. I got asked to come help choreograph for some artists. I would love to go more often." She nodded at what he said, "You know I use to think things didn't need to be planned but I'm really agreeing with you. A certain person is seeming to steer me in a better direction. It is....nice to not only have a plan with someone but with someone who wants your company." Jackie giggled softly when he turned her around in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her fingers going straight to run through his hair. Her smile softened though when she heard what he said, "Cooper..."She mumbled, he really wasn't fair. Always tugging at her heart strings. "Sometimes I can't handle you." She admitted before continuing. "I like you as well, I like how you enjoy how extra I can be and how you seem to enjoy spending a lot of time with someone who is quite the handful. I hope that was obvious." Jackie teased back, leaning forward to let her nose brush against his.

Cooper: "Hmmm I think I know what I'm doing while you are busy from now on," Cooper laughed.  "Well if you ever come out again, call.  I mean it.  Don't hesitate."   He shrugged his shoulders.  "I like your company. I like getting to know you, and not just your body, but that's good too."  He groaned softly as Jackie's fingers immediately began running through his hair.  "That's nice gorgeous, please don't stop."  Cooper chuckled again.  "I don't understand people who don't like extra.   Is it even life if it's not dramatic?"   He brushed his nose against hers.  "It's never boring.  I've got two hands, and some very strong restraints if needed.  You might be a handful, but one I'm quite enjoying handling. Like I hope you are with me, even if you don't think you can... you might be doing better than you realize?"

Jackie: "If you do please let me know what you think, I would love your reviews." Jackie would love to see his reaction to one of her dance routines. "Of course I will. You would be the first person I would call when I found out I was going." It felt like the smile on her face was not ever going to fade. "All of that? I'm honored. Most people really enjoy the body, I don't blame them for that." When he groaned she rose one of her eyebrows, "I won't, it is one of my new favorite things. It was her turn to laugh at what he said, "I like the way that you think, darling. I really do." Her smile grew into a grin when she heard what he said. Knowing he was glad to be able to handle her, it was quite the boost to her confidence. "Yeah? You wouldn't mind me being a little more obvious about how much I enjoy you and your company? Out of habit I..hold back a little. But I would gladly remind you as often as possible how much I like you."

Cooper:“I think I’m going to want to ravish you,” Cooper grinned.  “How’s that for a review?”  He kissed the top of her forehead, then the tip of her nose, before claiming her lips.  “Good.  I like the sound of that.  After all I’ll have to pay you back for the tour and monopolizing all my time,” he teased.  “Heck I don’t blame them for liking your body either.  You look fantastic and people should tell you.  The fact that of all those people you chose to spend even a little time with me is astounding.  Really.”  Cooper took his jacket and spread it out on the sand sitting down before pulling Jackie down onto his lap.  “Oh please, please be obvious about me and my company.  I don’t mind in the slightest.  Didn’t I tell you not to hold back with me?”

Jackie: "Sounds like a wonderful plan to me." She teased, laughing again when he lips pressed kisses to her forehead and nose. Smiling into the kiss once his lips pressed against hers, moving her lips with his. "I cant wait." Jackie agreed, not being able to wait for more adventures with him. "Astounding? Cooper...have you looked in a mirror? Not only are you an amazing man, but god you are so increadibly sexy. How could I not want to spend time with you?" When he sat his jacket down she smiled, and it instantly grew when he pulled her into his lap. Her fingers still moving through his hair, but sat her bag and shoes down. Moving her other hand to rest on his chest, "That's true...and I was doing so good with following rules." She teased,  "Well...I could start with how I think I might be addicted to your touch?"

Cooper:“I do come up with the best plans don’t you think?” he laughed.  “I can’t either.  I’d be so excited if you were able to come to LA.  Even to California; I’d try to come up and see you wherever you were.”  Cooper leaned into her touch again.  “I don’t know.  I’m being silly I guess,” he admitted.  “But I like that you want to spend time with me too.”  He laughed softly.  “You were.  Tsk tsk.  I might have to punish you again.”  Cooper moved a hand to caress her cheek.  “Addicted to my touch like this?” He asked, before looking around and then bringing his other hand to her breast, covering it, before slipping his fingers past not only the fabric of her dress but of her bra as well.  “Or this touch?”

Jackie: Jackie nodded, “The best.” She agreed her smile growing, his laugh contagious. “Wherever?” She asked softly, raising one of her eyebrows. “I could even visit you on set too. But I may be too much of a distraction.” The ideas were flowing, they always were around him. “Of course I do.” She assured again, there were probably sparkles in her eyes at this point. Leaning into his touch when he caressed her cheek. She rose one of her eyebrows as he looked around but she quickly learned why once his hand moved to her breast. Her lips parted as a sigh fell from her lips. “Both...definitely both.” Jackie’s grip on his hair tightening once his fingers moved under her bra. “You are...not fair.”

Cooper:"Sure, if you're going to be in the same state and not a whole country worth of them away I'd do my best to make time," Cooper admitted.  "You might be.  But I'd still like to see you there too. It'd be fun.  However, we have quite a bit of time before that happens," he said not wanting to keep talking about when he wasn't going to be there when he was there now and was going to be for several weeks still.  He chuckled darkly.  "Both is good.  And you haven't figured that out yet, that I don't exactly play fair?," Cooper asked.  "Although really not fair would be if I used my mouth.  You remember how that feels don't you beautiful?"

Jackie: Jackie nodded, he was right, all that mattered is that he was here now. He was right in front of her, their faces inches apart and their bodies pressed together. As this week progressed her mind couldn't help but wander to when he would be gone but he could quickly distract her. "I seem to keep forgetting. I think I keep on getting distracted by those amazing blue eyes." She complimented bringing her hang to his chest to tug him even closer. Her hand then moving on top of his to encourage his hand on her chest. "I think I do...I seem to remember it made me moan your name and beg for more."

Cooper:Cooper ducked his head at the comment about his eyes.  “I’ve had casting directors convinced they’re coloured contacts but alas I am blessed with the real deal,” he admitted with a chuckle.  “Which seem to work quite well as distractions if I’m honest.”   With her hand atop of his, encouraging his efforts, Cooper continued to fondle and squeeze her breasts, his fingers tweaked her nipple.  “You know I like when you do that but can you be quiet now but still let me know how much you enjoy it?”

Jackie: Jackie felt her smile grow once his head ducked at the compliment. “You really are blessed. They are so easy to get lost in.” It was true, the multiple nights they would spend in bed together she could just gaze into them and forget about the world around them. Jackie let out a hum at what he said as his hands continued to tease her. “Mhm, for you? Anything.” She teased before she had to nibble on her bottom lip to hold back a whimper from escaping her. Her hand moved down slowly so her nails could run down the material of his clothes. “You know...this happens to be one of my fantasies.” She said softly, “a sexy partner, a beach late at night...here you go again making dreams come true.”

Cooper:“Better hold on to me then so you don’t get too carried away,” Cooper teased.  He smiled at Jackie fondly.  “You’re good to me.  I don’t know why but I appreciate the heck out of it.  Thank you; for making this a really good night.  I had a lot of fun.”  Cooper closed his eyes as her nails raked over his clothes.  “Hmmm everyone should have a partner like that.  Willing to make your dreams, your fantasies come true.”  He captured her lips in a fierce kiss.

Jackie: “You wouldn’t have to ask me twice.” She replied with a soft smile on her lips, “it is too easy to get carried away with you.” His words made her smile grow, everything about him would make her smile. “Because you deserve it, you deserve wonderful things. Especially a great New Years.” Once she watched his eyes close she let her hands rest on his arms so her nails could move through his hair. If he was going to turning her into putty in his hands it was only fair she could try the same for him. Jackie hummed in response before his lips touched hers. She melted into the kiss, eager to kiss him back. Needing to show him how lucky she felt to meet him, to have all these nights with him. She wasn’t ready to find someone like him and she didn’t even know how to make words for how thankful she was. So the next best thing she knew she could do was show him.

Cooper: Cooper hummed softly into the kiss and continued to kiss Jackie until he was breathless.  Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers.  "This was definitely one of the best New Years I've ever had."  As if on cue, fireworks began to explode in the sky above them.  Cooper tilted his head up, watching them, feeling the percussive boom echoing against his chest as he thought about the upcoming year.

Jamie: She swore she could be in this moment forever and never want to leave it. When they parted it took a moment for her eyes to flutter open but once they did her eyes couldn't leave his. "The best." She agreed breathlessly, before the fireworks went off. Jackie took a moment to watch the fireworks, a small smile tugging at her lips. But all she wanted to do was take in the sight next to her. She couldn't ignore the flutter in her heart as she watched him admire the fireworks. Finally leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, "Thank you." She said softly, the small but genuine smile on her face. It seemed so simple but with the kiss, his kind words, the fireworks...it was perfect. "For giving me the chance to make this a New Years to remember." She finally continued.

Cooper: Cooper turned at her words, a smile on his lips as he tilted his head just a little, studying Jackie for a moment.  "Anytime gorgeous.  I'd help you make anything something to remember because I know I'd end up remembering it too."  He leaned in and kissed her softly.  "We're missing the fireworks," Cooper laughed softly, not really minding, but unable to stop teasing Jackie.  "Was there somewhere else you wanted to go after the fireworks?  Or can I take you home and make a little of our own."

Jackie: Jackie couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, her eyes staying closed for a moment after. Taking in the moment. Once she opened her eyes she couldn’t help but laugh at what he said. Turning her head to look at the fireworks. “I can’t help it, the fireworks are amazing but not as great as you.” She admitted softly, shaking her head at the first question. “Mhm no, even if I did the latter sounds like the best idea.” Jackie finally turned her head to him again. “Start the new year in the best way.”

Cooper: Cooper took Jackie's hand into his and held it while the fireworks finished.  When they were over, he kissed her again before gesturing for her to get up.  Standing up, he wiped the sand off his slacks and picked up his jacket and shook it out before folding it over his arm.  "Shall we take this new decade, new year, celebration somewhere else?"

Jackie: Jackie admired the fireworks, but all she could think about...all she could feel was the fluttering. The sense of happiness and comfort she felt in Coopers arms. When they were over her eyes went straight to his. Another kiss that she didn't want to end. Once she stood up she picked back up her shoes and bag. "Yes please. Preferably your place so we can see how great our clothes look on the floor." She teased before moving to let her hand move to rest on his arm. "But really any way I can get more alone time with you."

Cooper: Cooper laughed softly.  "And here I was thinking it was time to give your floor the honor.   Although you might already know how great your clothes look on your floor.   But I can show you how good mine look on yours."  He pulled the hand that rested on his arm through his, linking their arms together.  "I don't think anyone is going to be missing me tomorrow so I'd say you've got a lot of time, if you want it."

Jackie: “Oh Cooper now that you put that thought in my head.” She let her fingers brush along his arm once he linked them together. “My place it is. I can’t wait to get this amazing suit off of you. Even though you look so sexy in it.” She complimented, her mind already starting to wander. “I don’t have any plans either. We can spend as much time enjoying ourselves as our hearts desire. Maybe I’ll even cook you breakfast.” She nudged his shoulder softly as she led them off of the beach. Maybe it was too soon to say but she could easily see how wonderful this all could be.

[thevirgomen]

How to make yourself irresistible to a Virgo Man

New Post has been published on https://virgomen.net/how-to-make-a-virgo-man-chase-you/

How to make yourself irresistible to a Virgo Man

Finding that elusive ingredient that will make a Virgo man want a woman and chase her has eluded women through the ages.

There is a deep-rooted reason as to why a guy will pull away and it is this that is not understood by most women.

The attraction between a Virgo man and a woman may initially arise from the feeling that ‘I fancy that person’ on a physical level.

However, to actually start a relationship and to keep it interesting and exciting needs more than the physical attraction.

Understanding Virgo Men in Relationships

To make yourself irresistible to a Virgo man you must understand what goes on in his mind. Most women make the mistake of concentrating just on their physical appearance, and then wonder why their crush loses interest.

To become truly irresistible to a Virgo guy you must know how he thinks about love, and how to help him to untangle his sometimes confusing feelings regarding a relationship.

Luckily, a leading authority has done a lot of the work for you and is prepared to share his knowledge.

Renowned relationship coach James Bauer has studied the situation of 100’s of women and has discovered the number one reason why men lose interest and pull away.

Rather than me try to explain, why not listen to this short video in which James personally describes his findings.

How to make a Virgo man miss you

James Bauer has also written several articles which describe the important part of understanding a man’s feelings plays in any relationship.

All of us have imperfections and usually a disjointed view of how others see us.

The well -known saying ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ is one that needs to be kept in mind when thinking about attraction. The main ingredient of a loving relationship is finding out what a potential partner desires.

Everyone has a beauty within them that is just waiting to be released by someone that understands them.

Unfortunately, without the right knowledge, a potentially loving relationship can be lost just because they were unaware of how their crush thinks and feels.

Avoid missing out on a relationship because you do not know how to proceed. Do not accept a break-up because the answer may be contained in a video that you don’t watch.

Do not allow happiness to pass you by, just because you do not know the secret of being irresistible to your Virgo crush.

Check out the articles of Relationship expert James Bauer here.

Qualities that attract a Virgo man

Making your Virgo man the center of your universe is a mistake because he respects a woman who is capable of looking after herself.

A Virgo man will veer away from a woman who is needy and seems as though she will need a lot of support.

The qualities a Virgo guy likes in a woman is honesty and someone he can look to as an equal.

He is known to take a long time in making up his mind about a person and is hesitant if a woman comes on too strong.

Getting to know him is the first step towards a romantic relationship. Understanding how he thinks is imperative to making it last.

See also: How to flirt with a Virgo man via text messages

Be particular about your appearance

A Virgo man is very aware of his position in life and generally has a clear picture of what he wants. To achieve his aims he adopts a smart appearance and expects anyone he mixes with to do the same.

A Virgo guy tends to like the coordinated look rather than being a trendsetter. Any woman that he is interested in would probably dress smart and chic with minimal makeup and well- kept casual hairstyle.

Honest character

Avoid trying to be someone or something you are not. A Virgo man seems to have a built-in radar that can detect deceit in people.

Be straightforward about the things that are important to you, but not gushing in a way that you think may impress him.

Everyone has strengths and weaknesses and if you come across as honest any blemishes will be overlooked.

The man born under the sign of Virgo is one that is very adaptable to things that are happening around him.

He is keen to help in genuine cases. I say genuine because he will not be taken as a fool by someone trying to take advantage of his good nature.

A way of getting his attention is to ask for his opinion or help with a task that may have a technical solution.

If the request is genuine, he will be only too happy to help.

An example in the office environment may be to request his help in printing both sides from a photocopier. Possibly a simple task, however one that may need a little explaining to most.

Related post: How to make a Virgo man miss you

Natural Beauty

A Virgo man has the ambition to be as comfortable as he can in his own skin. Anything artificial is something that he naturally avoids.

He relishes being connected to nature and tends to admire anyone with similar thoughts. A Virgo guy is a fan of keeping his life as simple and uncluttered as possible.

Virgo being an earth sign is very particular to personal hygiene so natural aromas are a must rather than heavy perfumes.

An interest in the great outdoors and nature, in general, will be a welcome topic of conversation in breaking down initial barriers.

Virgo man star sign

Mercury is the ruling planet of this star sign which is also referred to as the overseer of the mind. This generally gives the sign a high level of intelligence.

They are usually creative with high levels of imagination which keeps them busy on a range of artistic pursuits.

There is a tendency with a Virgo man to be inflexible and over critical of things that they don’t understand or have little interest in.

They can be accused of being judgemental with themselves as well as others. It can also be difficult for them to forgive especially if they have decided that they have been wronged.

Quick decisions are not the order of the day with a Virgo man. Before any decision is made a Virgo guy will weigh up every possible angle.

This can be seen as an infuriating trait by many but when a Virgo makes up his mind you can be sure he will stick to the result.

Final word

The Virgo man is seen as gentle, caring, sympathetic and honest. He is also known to be quite critical of himself and others as he sets high targets in life.

Once his reserved character has been breached by a person who has proved themselves he will prove to be a loyal friend and lover.

Understanding how a Virgo man thinks and acts is the key to a loving relationship.

Without this knowledge, a woman could easily blow any chance she had of making a success.

James Bauer has studied this topic and found the answer that has been overlooked by women. The answer to why men obsess over a woman.

You can read James’s articles by clicking this link to discover what he says about the one thing that a Virgo man is truely obsessed with.

I hope you found the answer to your situation via the articles and video supplied by relationship coach James Bauer. There are lots more articles relating to situations with Virgo guys on my website http://virgomen.net. 

My joy is in giving

Charlene

[dorks6]

amethyst lavender n plum!!! i hope u feel better i lov u!!

Hi! I do feel better, even if I am still kind of sick. Thank you for asking, you’re so sweet!

Amethyst- Favorite movie?

I don’t have a favorite movie per say. In fact, there are very few aspects in my life where I can single out one absolute favorite and even then it’s followed by a lot of other dear things.

But for sentimental reasons, I love Fly Away Home a lot and I have watched it quite a few times now, in memory of her and the connection we had through and because of it.

And also Rogue One. I think it’s partially because of when I saw it, but at the end of the day, it’s one of the movies to incite such a strong reaction to me and where I fell for all the characters and their connections so deeply.

Lavender- Describe your best friend(s).

I am not a fan of label best friend(s). Especially not in singular.

But it does not mean the close connections I have are somehow lesser or not important, or pale in comparison to those of ‘best friends’. It’s just not word I use, for personal reasons.

Here is to someone who I met through this fandom.

From the get-go, I thought she’s just, really cool person. And the more I get to know her, the truer it turned out to be. But I also got to witness more and more of how absolutely humble, genuine, sweet, supportive, caring and all around amazing she is. Initially, I was stressed my dumbass self wouldn’t impress her much and our conversations would fizzle out, now I still kind of want to impress her, but it comes from the place of me valuing her opinion and loving the way she looks at things.

We have a lot of things in common and a lot of differences that we’re respectful to each other about and for me, it’s always interesting to discuss why we like that or the other thing. I love how tolerant she is of all my rambling and screeching and I like when she tells me all about the things she thinks. Bouncing ideas off of her is one of the most amazing things and she always manages to make me feel so supported, understood, heard and inspired. She is such a creative, insightful, thoughtful person, I can trust her to often know what I’m getting at before I’m even finished my ramble about the subject and to explore it further.

She can probably run for the trophy of ‘who managed to get know Rainy fastest down to some real messy depths’. There are things about which I don’t open easily, despite how it may seem. And yet I have to her and I don’t regret it. She’s seen me at some of my lowest lows and comforted me through them and generally, become one of my greatest pillars of strengths (though I wish I didn’t have to burden her with that weight of me). I can be whiny or broken or absolutely salty and besotted with her to my messy heart’s content and it’s such a gift. I can’t thank her enough for this.

She is incredibly tolerant of everything and she’s taught me a lot - about how to be a great person, about world and music, about myself. Helped me formulate so many things and realize so much and just, it’s a feeling of being able to stretch my wings and learn the extent of them. And she’s also so much of an enabler and encourager, oh wow!! In everything. I know I can trust her judgement and to tap some sense into me as needed, too.

I really could go on about her and how much I enjoy every stretch of evening I get to spend with her (and how I lament loss of schedule that will cut back on this), but she’s truly a incredible, strong and kind person who I feel lucky to call my friend and I hope I can be some support to her.

Plum- If you could travel anywhere, where would you want to go?

Venice, as first of stops, for sure. Preferable in time when it’s not tourist intense yet. It just... It means a lot to me in many ways and has been one of my dream travels since I was quite small. I would also love to see New Zealand, to go on photography tour there.

Send me shade of purple ask?

[purplethebunny]

In which I describe the experience of speaking with family members about the engagement and creatively rage against my father’s casual heteronormative bullshit.

 The same evening that I cariño encantador propsed to me, I called the blood family members who should probably know before facebook does – there were a lot of witnesses.

I called my sister first, who was sleepy but congratulatory. She texted me a bit more during the evening to really underline it.  My relationship with my sister is…. complicated.  That said, I expect her to essentially respect whatever boundaries I set about wedding planning or whatever with only minimal interference.  I also expect that she has a greater understanding of the meaning of this in my life.  Like, she’s stuck in her paradigm, her desperate need to be loved and how that affects all of her choices, but she understands enough to at least put a face on it for a minute, to be kind about it.

When she texted me later, she said “aren’t you glad you didn’t kill yourself before you met Ruby?”  She’s damn right too.

I called my mom next, who I also woke up.  I think her husband was a biiiiiit irritated, but I’m sure he’ll survive. Mom said congrats and started chatting with me about her recent tooth problem.  She wanted to make sure I’d called my sister.   This was all a little strange – I really don’t think my mom knows what to say.  I don’t think she views my partner as one who is “suitable” for me, and I really do think it’s partially racism, partially her own never-healthily-fulfilled obsession with big, strong men doing big, strong things. My mother is more easily understood if you assume that she has no concept of the fact that other individuals have vastly different internal lives from her own.

I put off talking to my dad until the next day. My father and I aren’t connected on facebook by my choice. I called him in the afternoon the following day, shortly before I had to leave for another task (intentionally).  I tried to hit his cell phone first, but it was straight to voicemail. I reached him at his store.

My dad initially sounded confused.  He sounded entirely baffled.  I can’t entirely understand why because we haven’t enough of a relationship for me to guess.  It was offputting.  We then had what amounts to yet another awkward conversation where we clearly do not speak the same language.

After the bafflement, he congratulated me and began offering advice.  My father is married to his fifth or sixth wife, and while it seems to have staying power, he’s left a swath of life destruction behind him.  My father exhibits the essential selfishness of capitalism: get the best deal you can out of anyone.  I believe the only kind thing my mother has ever said about him is that he always paid his child support on time.  I wouldn’t even give that (shit’s court ordered yo).

So, when his next statement is “You’ll find real happiness,” I have to swallow my tongue rather than just laugh at him.  “I am happy” I say, trying to communication with the most perfunctory language that I’ve not said yes because I’m bound by some biblical or cultural scripture, trying to communicate that I am happy.  

“Oh no,” he responds, “I mean several years down the line when the honeymoon has worn off.”  It strikes me that we haven’t anything close to the same conceptual understanding of relationships, the importance of them in our live, or neurobiology.  I’m stuck and can’t respond.  What I’d like to explain is that we DID that.  We’ve DONE that.  And that I have genuinely more experience in relationships than he does, in vulnerability and courage, in adoration and foolhardiness.  I have significantly more experience than he does in owning up to my mistakes, in forgiveness and acceptance, in staying through and being stronger for it than he ever has. I want to tell him how cowardly I find him, how disgusting I think his treatment of all the women in his life is, but I’m stuck on my tongue, on how to phrase it without destroying whatever this is. So he keeps talking.

He talks about his wife, how they’ve been together for 18 years and how there are disappointments and battles and things they can’t stand but how they just “get used to it” and are too old to change now.  Like, how do I respond that I could have settled, I could have torn out pieces of me and left them behind like breadcrumbs in a forest of unrelenting dick pics?  How I could have refused any sort of risk, how I’ve done that?  How I already know how to origami myself inside of myself until I am a frog, a bird, a flower, instead of a galaxy? How do I explain that I’m unwilling to settle, that I know it takes courage to be with me and that this is part of what my dear love, shaking and sweating but with his strong voice, offered me when he asked me to be his wife?

I don’t.

I say “Well, I’m glad you have because Judy’s kind of great.”  And she is, for someone I’ve met a dozen times and whom I haven’t had a proper conversation with since I was in my 20s.  She’s fine.

He replies jovially “Yeah, I only really stay with her for the income and cooking.  You know how men are.”  Cue laughter.

I don’t say anything.

Later, when telling my roommate of this (known ‘im since I was 14 and he knows my dad) he laughed and said “Chuck is such a slimeball HERPADERPA BETTER LEARN TO COOK.”  

Later, when I told my partner about this, he responded “HAAA!  He thinks I’m a man.”

Right in that moment I just can’t tell him how incredibly stupid he sounds and, you know, I think we’ve reached the point where the gulf between our experiences and values is too great to bridge without extensive emotional labor. Labor that I do not want to provide because he sees it as his right. Labor I am unwilling to provide because the men in my life deserve better than a crude joke suggesting they have an inability to perform basic functions.

I stay silent and he awkwardly tries to pick the conversation back up.  He asks me to send a picture, which I later realize is because he has no idea who my partner is.

This is the most surreal moment for me.  All of my father’s relationships from my mother onward have had some distinct affect on my life (Judy’s is mostly stability).  I realized that my father has no awareness of who my partner is because he sees my relationships from the lens of teenage romance.  My father is under the impression that “millennial” does not mean “adult under 40”.  My father is entirely unaware that I am an adult closer to mammogram time than I am away from it.  My partner is nearly 40.  Neither does he know my partners name, background, or what is important and beautiful about our relationship.

I send my father the picture, putting us against a rainbow backdrop in my house as the only “fuck you” I can manage.

I feel like a coward, but since I don��t assess this relationship as worth the work or risk it would take to fix it, I don’t think I can do elsewise at this time.  I think this particular relationship is headed for a change.  

[xlipa]

Save Relationship From Divorce and Create Love in the home

One point is clear: You will find no problem relationships. There are fluctuations in Atlanta divorce attorneys' romantic relationships. And despite what Hollywood shall sell you, nobody in this real-life feels adored in term and take action or satisfied each day. But three common elements arrive over and over among those people who have endured "the responsibility and warmth of your day" and eliminated on to conserving their relationship from divorce. get more bits of help www.amywaterman.org

A spiritually-centered dedication to saving a relationship from a divorce that continues despite arguments, denial, and pain, and is constantly on the last through modifications and stresses.

Sharing moments, however rare, when there is personal and romantic posting, and the struggle seems worthwhile. (This may mean an individual sense of religious well-being whilst the partner seems unappreciative or unresponsive.)

Conserving your relationship takes a determination to devote some time and energy to make it happen. This can indicate radical changes and persistence.

I'll use three real-life good examples to emphasize this last point.

The first example is of a few "unequally yoked," both already have been divorced and the existing relationship was looking just like a repeat failure. The wife has been a training Christian all her life. Her spouse was religiously indifferent. She was informed and achieved. He was qualified, high-incomed. Conserving their marriage didn't look possible.

After his conversion to Christianity, and even after many years of active involvement in their congregation, the husband had come to a stark realization: He pretended to provide his wife everything but had skipped giving himself to her. For the very first time in his life, he acknowledged that he resided his life as a loner, an extremely self-centered man. They didn't genuinely have a romantic relationship. He was just walking through the movements along with his wife rather than cherishing her. He said, "To save lots of my relationship today rather than await another divorce I solved to place her in the center of my very occupied life." He started demonstrating little delicate means of affection-a notice, an impression, a telephone call showing her that she was important to him. From that instant things transformed. Their separation finished and a fresh romantic relationship opened up. Even their grown-up children now can sense a tangible love between them.

Example #2: Let's read to the way the wife described their relationship in the current fast-paced work-a-day world: "It used to be that if John occupied a seat inside our home, he was either dealing with the inspections at the start of the month, counseling or hearing someone on the telephone, eating, sound asleep or impatiently "wasting his time" viewing a Television program I insisted he could enjoy. Our occasions of "together-time" were so fleeting, and usually captured on the lifeless run, if not physically emotionally. The love we had for one another was felt and often expressed but seldom really enjoyed. " Are additionally you looking for a few ways of conserving your relationship?

Then a medical condition arose that held the John home in an extended convalescence. "That disease helped save our relationship from divorce. Since his disease, we have shared wonderful occasions. I've sat all night by the medial side of his bed or seat, and there is no dependence on us to speak. We've felt collectively a serenity and companionship that can't be sandwiched into a few silent occasions of frantically planned lives. I've seen John keep our little child for extended periods in perfect serenity and pleasure. I've seen our child absorb her father's new kind of love and reciprocate in kind. Our family relationships took on a fresh depth because we've been able to tell each other not only more encounters but more understanding. I now believe with continuing work we can save our relationship today."

To "save my relationship today" you can't await such an emergency and discover this type of beauty. Or must you be driving at night "Save Relationship From Divorce" indicators along to street before you make yourself acknowledge the conditions that provide back the relationship into your daily life?

Taking care of protecting your relationship is to understand please remember why you have married, to begin with.

Going back example, the wife was struggling as to the reasons her marital romantic relationship had not been working. Then she arrived to understand that she was informing her spouse that she cherished him BUT that he previously to improve this or that to become suitable. In effect she was stating, 'I love you, dear, but I cannot accept your activities.'" She understood that was developing as a rejection of him.

She realized that "to save lots of my marriage today I had formed to keep in mind the love I felt once I married him. I needed to be in a position to say, 'I love you, and I accept you when you are, actions and everything.'" But she'd have to feel what she was stating. She comprehended she already was stating all the right things and carrying out all the right activities. But there is lurking resentment in her center for most of his disruptions. She understood she experienced to produce a change in her center and it could not be easy.

Over time of being focused on conserving your marriage, you might be in a position to say as she did: "To my joy I came across I actually could accept my hubby, actions and everything. I suddenly recognized how a lot more important he was than anything he was doing. On that day our relationship and our marriage started to change. No more were we ensnared in the safe relationship from divorce stress setting and stress that got strained our romantic relationship even further. He now experienced my love and basked in its warmness. He calmed down and became my most appreciated partner. I had been overwhelmed with what I used to be witnessing. And he was conquered by the changes he sensed in me." Are you set to set up your time and effort to conserving your marriage?

Hard-headed, thwarted, alienated spouses may believe that unconditional love is a scam. Certainly, it will require a commitment to save lots of a broken romantic relationship and conserving your relationship. But I want to suggest now three results to unconditional love in the house.

First, you should have the pleasure of seeing your partner are more and more a person of greatness. Which are the tale of Johnny Lingo? In the whole story, a lady who was simply considered simple by all who understood her (including her dad) became an "eight-cow female" of beauty. She became an eight-cow girl only once she found that was how her man experienced about her. It had been his love, how much he cared, that created the wonder in her that nobody else could see. It could appear crazy but it holds that love is as well as spiritually changing. And it can save your valuable relationship as well. Who hasn't seen how love for a face generates love in a face, and what sort of caring face becomes a lovable face, eliciting the think it’s great bestows? Let me again ask, do you want to put in your time and effort to conserving your marriage?

Just about everyone has seen that bickering and arguing will subtract from and weaken the relationship in the relationship. Playing methods, nagging, "sending back again the harm I receive," pleading, denial, chilly make distance, playing hard to get-these do not save a relationship from divorce but instead make great strides backward in the rely upon the relationship.

Therefore the second outcome to the unconditional love that helps you to save marriage from divorce is that whenever you give unconditional love, even in the existence of bitterness and abuse-when you come back a glance filled with daggers with a glance filled with love-eventually if your lover is sensitive, they'll want to provide the same back. In the long run, such positive reciprocation will enrich you as well as your romantic relationship and work to conserving your relationship. Over the long term, it is hard to be looked after and not treated in return. The producing connection will be higher than the amount of every person only might have been. In these situations, one and something is a lot more than two. Who can say how whether yet another kind phrase could save a relationship from divorce?

In lots of troubled marriages, there is certainly contention, confrontation, insufficient trust, hurt feelings, jangled nerves, little compassion no desire to improve or forgive. Could it be easier to quit than to help make the effort to conserving your relationship from divorce?

So, the 3rd result of unconditional like to look for is peacefulness. Serenity will come in your romantic relationship when you come back no bad if you are kind in the existence of cruelty if you are patient regardless of the existence of impatience. This tranquility gets rid of sadness and sorrow. And it gets rid of the most powerful self-deception: It is all "his"/"her" problem. Each day tells yourself, "EASILY want to save lots of my relationship today, I shall seek peace."

Most of us haven't any long-range eyesight in a lot of our struggle. We think only of the moment-this time, this accepted place, this circumstance, to save lots of my relationship today! But if we want to save a relationship from divorce we should temper our short-term reactions and think long term, wanting to:

see our partner as an "eight-cow" person of greatness;

to provide and receive unconditional love; and

to consider peace.

Anyone can count number the seeds within an apple, but who can count number the apples in a seed? Exactly what will derive from your commitment to conserving your marriage?

What matters is exactly what takes place in your house as well as your spirit. If you're devoted to saving your relationship, you must begin from within yourself and think about those areas talked about in this specific article that connect with you, your romantic relationship with your partner as well as your dedication to conserving your relationship today and every day.

[garywonghc]

Gratitude for My Torturers

by Phakyab Rinpoche

After escaping from a Chinese prison, Tibetan lama Phakyab Rinpoche travels to the United States as a refugee and is treated at New York City’s Bellevue hospital for a severe pain in his ankle that eventually turns to gangrene. In the following excerpt from his book, Meditation Saved My Life, the Tibetan Buddhist teacher recalls his admission to the refugee program and the different ways that he and his doctor view his torturers.

The interview with the psychologist for my admission in the Program for Survivors of Torture will last two hours. I know these two hours will stir up many sufferings — first of all, my present condition as a refugee. I have been greeted with tremendous generosity at Bellevue hospital. But at this point I have lost everything, including my health. The interview will also bring back the shameful denial of humanity that I was subjected to in Chinese jails. Not being human any longer, being reduced to the despicable dregs of society with a dismantled body dismembered by torture, humiliated by degrading treatments — how can I express all of this to human beings whose physical and moral integrity has never been trampled? It will feel as if I am attacking their intact humanity by displaying my own violated humanity.

I have never told anyone about my experience in prison, neither people close to me nor my masters. When I met the Dalai Lama after my escape, I did not need to describe to him my tortures. He knows only too well what goes on in the prisons of the Roof of the World. Without asking me any questions, he hugged me silently. Then he simply said: “Three months of prison and torture! It’s a terrible ordeal! But for others, it lasts 10 years, 20 years! It kills some!”

I understood then how important it is to put our sufferings into perspective, to not lock oneself in a painful past that indefinitely extends the ordeal. When that happens, we become our own torturer.

On June 17, 2003, in the office of the Program for Survivors of Torture, I am greeted by the psychologist, a smiling young woman with the blue eyes of a doll. Her manners are demonstrative and her kindness is conventional — both features of social relations in the United States of America. I have not yet gotten used to this in the weeks that have gone by, and I must seem very coarse to some of the people I speak with. Indeed, my culture is not very exuberant.

Although I can see this young woman intends to be genuinely benevolent and open to my story, a misunderstanding quickly arises between us as soon as I mention my detention and tortures. I will soon realise that Westerners easily indulge in victimisation. This explains their amazement, and their total lack of understanding, when I joke about the ill treatments I suffered in prison.

In her eventual report, the Bellevue psychologist will state: “Mr. Dorje’s affect was stable, however, it seemed inappropriate at times. For example, he was smiling, animated, and even laughed as he described his torture in detail and his survival.”

She would have better understood my feelings had I acted like a punching bag and expressed myself with the tearful language of complaint. Then she would have sympathised and undoubtedly shared my wailing, my indignation, my anger, and my hatred to­ward my torturers. During our interview, I got the impression that she was driving me into a corner and wanting me to accuse my tormentors. That was when I burst out laughing.

How can I take on a hatred I do not feel?

In fact, on that day, even if I was only a penniless refugee and a sick man with a gangrenous leg, I was not the victim. The victims were my jailers. I had left prison, but what about them? They were locked up in a vicious spiral that would hound them during this life and for many lives yet to come!

The psychologist did not understand that I laughed at the absurdity of hating those who had shown such hatred toward me. During my incarceration, I was often dumbfounded at the idea that people who did not know me, and whom I had never been harmful to, could relentlessly torture me. And I have meditated at length on karmic causality. What was happening to me was only the result, the consequence, of a negative spirit and negative thoughts that in previous lives had led me to injure and cause pain to other beings, both human and nonhuman. My torturers were not my enemies. The real enemy is not outside of us. It is to be confronted within us. It takes the shape of selfishness, attachment, self-cherishing. I was therefore laughing at how absurd hatred, thirst for revenge, and anger are. By laughing, I was hoping to relax the psychologist. But I only managed to make her tense.

Sometimes when I think of the bad karma built up by the People’s Armed Police officers who tortured me, I feel tremendous compassion for them. Moved to tears, I pray for them more than for anyone else. And I have completely forgiven them. It is only thanks to my forgiveness that one day, as soon as possible, I hope, they may free themselves from their infernal karma.

In appearance they were the torturers and I the victim. But in reality, we were all victims. I was their physical punching bag, and they were the victims of their own uncontrollable, destructive emotions. The actions they committed to ensure the meager sustenance of their families could lead them to the terrible torments of being reborn as hungry ghosts, hot or cold hellish beings, or animals . . . How can I know? I dedicate to them the positive energy of my praiseworthy actions so that they may find peace of mind at last.

While talking to the psychologist at Bellevue Hospital, how could I explain that the understanding of karma I developed in prison freed me from the unbearable burden of negative emotions? I thus feel gratitude toward those who tortured me. They taught me patience, unconditional compassion, and impartiality, more than have any of my masters. Every day, I express my wishes for them and offer them my prayers so that they may free themselves from mental states upset by hatred and anger. Has the psychologist in front of me ever heard about karma? I doubt that it was part of her studies. If it had been, she would express herself differently.

The law of karma implies that we must assume our share of responsibility in what happens to us. This is easier in the case of happiness and when positive developments occur in our life. But in adversity, I find a source of deep wisdom. It has allowed me to become friends with what I would otherwise deem bad and therefore reject. As it is said in one of the fundamental teachings I meditated on during my training at the monastery:

When the container and the contents are full of negativity, Transform adverse fortune into an awakening path. Use all immediate circumstances in meditation.

I have therefore fully accepted the idea that I created the causes of my detention through actions whose essence came to maturity in this life, and I am delighted at having cleansed these negativities. Such an attitude has transformed the way I see those who brutalised me with unimaginable barbarity. Through the sufferings they inflicted on me, they created the necessary conditions for my transformation. How can I not feel infinitely grateful to them?

[perahn]

Codex Entry

For @circlingmoon, for DMing and encouraging me to be the amoral Red Wizard who always lurked within.

This text is written in a fiendishly difficult encryption, consisting of at least two different ciphers per page. It is difficult to infer reading order; on some pages the writing flows across the page in the left-to-right fashion of Common, on others it appears to spiral out from a central point, while others appear horizontal or completely random. A multitude of different coloured inks form part of the coding. Once the text has been decrypted, the reader must be fluent in Thayan Mulhorandi, Draconic and Infernal, and possess a basic understanding of Undercommon for the later pages, as the journal is written in a peculiar mixture of the vocabulary and grammar of all four languages.

This is a calculated risk. There are certain of my thoughts and secrets that must be preserved and not simply remembered. Neither method is secure, of course… any mind is open to one sufficiently skilled, and if my own mind were to be broken, these petty ciphers would be easily extracted. For the moment, my own positioning is protection enough: I am seen as powerful enough to be useful, but not enough to be a threat, and there are few enough of my rivals or clique who are perspicacious enough to make a better assessment.

Nebastis appears to be playing a similar game, but her analysis of the situation on the Alaor betrayed an overly acute understanding of the historical forces at play. I believe she would be worth cultivating…

A span of pages, some of which appears to describe the daily life of a Red Wizard student, some to record dreams, some to be detailed equations or spellwork diagrams, and one which is a poorly-drawn depiction of a wyvern and a phoenix in battle.

… all arranged with Nebastis. I have paid the doorkeeper the customary amount to ensure we won’t be disturbed. He probably supplements his income handsomely by guarding these little trysts – but there are simply not that many pieces of neutral territory within the Academy, and at times ambition and caution must give way to more primal needs.

She said, “I trust you.” I could never have guessed how exciting – how erotic – those three words could be.

She watches my lips, and licks hers.

I watch her fingers – their slender shape, their clever, delicate movements – and I imagine.

I have never known impatience like this, as though fire burns beneath my skin. Nebastis. Less than hour remains.

The next entry is on the same page. The time marker indicated a span of one hour and twenty minutes since the commencement of the previous entry.

That was eminently satisfying. It appears I had credited Nebastis with far more cunning than she deserved. When she said that she trusted me and that she desired me, she was being entirely truthful. She did not even look twice at the spells I had cast around our meeting place.

So she is eliminated, and with less effort than it took to remove Pteptah or Se-atma from the game board. I am almost ready to neutralise Nofet.

A good deal of what follows is undeciphered at present, but proper names and ‘eliminated’ tends to recur, as do dreams about ‘the Erratic’, ‘the Silent’, ‘the Thirsty’ and skulls, buried beneath mountains and by water.

… The monastery of the Long Death is a known quantity, of course, but individual monks remain unpredictable variables. I have recognised this Shayazi assigned to me as one of the recurring, although I am not certain which she represents as yet. The monks do refer to death as the ‘Silent Lord’… Still, a preliminary assessment is necessary.

Physically, she poses a deadly threat. The monks’ training is extensive, honing her naturally muscular form into a mechanism that will strike both swiftly and with certainty. She would be difficult to catch off-guard. She evidences no magic, whether innate, studied or talismanic. By preference, she fights in melee; I would keep her at range should it become necessary to neutralise her. Spells that target her strength of personality would probably succeed, as she appears to spend much of her energy on controlling an innate rage… no doubt the curse of her orcish heritage. How glad I am for the superiority of my pure Mulan blood! She also appears to have an inexhaustible appetite and capacity for alcohol, and so is eminently suitable for a properly calibrated dose of the correct poison.

Shayazi is not stupid, but the monks’ education was certainly… limited. She is so focused on her pointless studies of thanatology (not uninteresting, admittedly, but impractical) that she would be easy to deceive on any matter that fell outside that narrow scope. Nor do I believe that the Long Death monks learn the ruthless political manoeuvring which is a part of Academy life, which is doubtless why the Red Wizards rule Thay and the monks play no significant role in the wider world.

For the moment, however, she appears to perceive my protection as a duty, and one she takes very seriously indeed. I shall encourage her to continue in that vein by any means necessary. She cannot be trusted, of course, but she is undeniably an asset as long she chooses to be so. She balances many of my weaknesses, and she is, moreover, enjoyable company. It is, of course, entirely possible that much of my current assessment is flawed, depending on Shayazi’s ability to dissimulate. I shall continue to monitor and reassess.

Additional notes appear to follow at various dates and times. The following pages seem to detail the writer’s experiences of a long voyage by sea, including some difficulty with sea-sickness. Dreams of eyes, and a woman who cuts off her hand and laughs for joy, predominate.

Initial Assessment: Khetad? Kheteeth? Mornir? Mulnar? That sorceress.

I know she is one of the recurring, and therefore necessary in some measure to my goals. At the same time, I find myself thinking longingly of all the ways to strip a sorceress of their magic and make them useful. She is a sterling example of all the worst traits of her kind. She relies on poorly-understood and internalised processes to wield magic that was left in her blood by some remote ancestor. It is alien to the wizards’ way of controlled and disciplined magic earned by effort; it is sloppy, disorganised, and inelegant in every way.

In situations like these, however, it has its advantages for me. It is possible to map at least some of the spells at her command; sorcerers do not learn quickly. It can be surmised that she has more spells than these, if she follows the usual developmental pattern for sorcerers.

Cantrips: Fire Bolt (used to light a candle, and offensively). Ray of Frost (used to cool her drink, and offensively). Shocking Grasp (used when pinching Harper’s buttocks, when he was looking at a barmaid). Prestigitation (used for numerous flashy effects to prop up her projected image of dangerous sorceress, including redoing her cosmetics).

Level 1: Magic Missile (fired in the air to impress a customs officer. Failed). Thunderwave (used against a gang of attacking kobolds. Effective).

Level 2: Shatter (attack of ogres. Destroyed several of the caravans we were travelling with).

I have never met anyone quite so childish, and that includes actual children. She is obsessed with maintaining her ‘dangerous Elven sorceress’ image, and so would be uniquely vulnerable to manipulation aimed at that point. Any Suggestion along the lines of ‘A sorceress as powerful as you should be able to –‘ should succeed admirably. Unless, of course, this is a manufactured flaw. Sometimes she seems too insistent on her part to be genuine in it.

It is maddening, however, that she amuses many of those we have met, instead of rightly garnering irritation or contempt. It must be some peculiarity of all these illogical people. I miss my Academy, where motivations and behaviours made sense, where I knew the rules by which everyone played…

In short, I believe I could neutralise this Khayteed, if she were isolated, under most circumstances. I do not believe she plans well, and she seems too self-obsessed to study others well; I doubt she would see me coming. An overt attack is even less desirable than usual, given her focus on Evocation magic, although if Shay could be manipulated properly, she would make an excellent counter. However, in most conceivable situations which involve eliminating Khedded, Taliesin Harper must be considered.

Initial Assessment: Taliesin Harper.

By far the most conspicuous threat of all the recurring – not least because my Detect Thoughts failed. He remains too much of an unknown at this point. He has clearly trained with both melee and ranged weaponry; he appears to favour the former, but it is too early to be sure. He could certainly put an arrow in Shay before she could reach him. He seems intelligent and socially capable, and I am inclined to believe that he could play a part better than most. Sometimes he reminds me of others I knew back home…

It is so difficult to make any useful observations. His motivations are completely unknown. He and Kheited seem to have been travelling together for some time. She regards him as her property, but his attitude towards her is harder to place. For the present I can only assume that she is beneficial, in some measure, to whatever his plans truly are, but it is all so nebulous. He has attempted some flirtation with me, upon occasion; I am not minded to encourage it until I have a clearer understanding of why, and of whether the danger he presents outweighs the possible benefits.

He is on his own territory, and he understands the ways power is expressed and controlled in this land; I am far from my Academy. If the situation were reversed, he would be easy prey. As it is, I must be exceedingly cautious. He would not be as easy to Suggest as Khedit; his weaknesses are not so well displayed. He has not, as yet, exhibited any habits which could be leveraged to my advantage. I am acutely aware that most of my study has been aimed to help me neutralise other spellcasters. So much more information is necessary before I can plan effectively… I despise feeling this vulnerable.

More observations and dreams follow, as well as several pages of potential strategies for learning more of the individuals the writer has assessed. Many have been crossed out or marked as ‘impractical’, ‘obvious’ or ‘dangerous’.

I am very ready to be out of this rain. What sort of developmentally-damaged masochists would choose to dwell in a climate like this? Still, I am informed that we should reach Waterdeep tomorrow evening…

[jetbootcollection]

A Hero’s Vacation, Ch.2

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Characters: Marinette/Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir, Alya, Nino, OC(s)

Summary: Reuniting with an old friend goes about as wrong as it could.

Tags: Fluff, Self-Indulgent Fluff, Angst, No Romance (for canon characters), Gratuitous use of OCs, Headcanons Abound

Words: 7975

Chapters: 2/?

<<Chapter 1 , Chapter 3>>

Nino liked hearing Alya talk. She had that perfect level of sass in everything she said and could make anything sound interesting. But this was getting ridiculous. Ever since that foreign hero had arrived in Paris, Alya had been scouring the internet for info on more heroes. And boy, did she find it.

By now Nino knew that there were heroes in Tokyo, Cairo, and Seattle, probably more he didn’t care to remember, along with then names of a dozen such heroes. For three solid days, Alya did nothing but info-dump about some new hero she had found. No one was safe from her overflowing knowledge, having even cornered Chloe into listening.

Marinette, usually the one to reign her in when she got going on about Ladybug, had done nothing to stop her. If anything, she had encouraged Alya to research Eagle and his teammates in the beginning stages. But now she was suffering alongside Nino and the rest of the school.

“The school should just hire her to teach a class. At least then we would have an excuse to not care.” Nino said while leaning back boneless in a library chair. The librarian had kicked Alya out enough times that this had become the official safe zone.

“Be careful what you wish for. I saw her carry a portfolio into the headmaster’s office, so she may have already asked.” Adrien said from across the table, trying to at least look busy reading a book to justify taking up a seat in the crowded library. Looking up to make sure his friend was not going to break his headphones in frustration at the news, he sees Amoux coming towards them.

“Sorry to overhear, but I agree. Alya needs to chill out.” His French was getting better and he was starting to pick up phrases. He sat down in the last remaining chair and began taking out his own work to do.

“Bro, I am so sorry for you. She’s been on you all day. How did you get away?” Nino asked, genuinely curious but trying to be subtle. Alya’s international superhero stint had started with Amoux, so of course she wanted to know more from the only person she knew with firsthand experience.

Amoux smirked as he explained his escape.

“It was not hard once I say ‘I do not know the words to describe him.’ I start talking in English and she lost interest. I was like, ‘Oh Alya you must understand, [Eagle is handsome and courageous like you wouldn’t believe. And huggable! Just look at those feathers and tell me you don’t want a piece of that.]’ She didn’t want to waste time translating, so she moved on.”

The boy seemed quite pleased with himself, making his English sound as close to Alya’s ramblings as possible. Adrien and Nino had caught on to his impression of her and found it hilarious. Not enough to laugh, because that would get them kicked out and put them at risk of another Alya lecture.

“Sounds to me like you have quite a lofty opinion of Eagle.” Marinette turned around in her chair behind Amoux. She too was hiding from Alya and, though she would never admit to it, had found a seat as close to Adrien as possible.

Amoux’s checks took on a pinker shade as he realized the girl had understood what he had said. Good thing he hadn’t said anything too revealing, or he wouldn’t be able to play it off so easily.

“W-Well, I do. He was the best Seattle hero.” He said, trying hard to not panic when he turned around to face her. This school’s English class was rudimentary but well balanced, so she would have the basics down if she paid attention. During his visit to her home he had noticed a pair of framed degrees from a baking school in London, so she might get some of it at home. Just how much English did she know?

Marinette read his face to mean something completely different.

“Don’t worry about it, Amoux. Thinking about your favorite hero that way is completely normal. I’m sure half of Paris would jump at the chance to steal a kiss from Ladybug.” Marinette assured him, her own checks darkening a bit. She only had eyes for Adrien, but her fans could be very passionate and she would be lying if she said she didn’t get anything out of the attention.

“Don’t forget Chat Noir. He’s quite the catch too.” Adrien offered. Compared to Labybug, he had fewer fans that were bold enough to make a pass at him. But when they did, they went all out. Too bad he only had eyes for Ladybug or he would be the most eligible bachelor in town.

“I hear you, dude. I wouldn’t mind a date with the Chat.” Nino said without thinking. The surprised looks from his friends made him quickly amend his statement. This was not how he wanted to come out as bi.

“He’s the coolest dude I know. A friendly date with a guy like that would be dope.” Nino tried not to shy away from it but failed. If the nervous look on Adrien’s face was anything to go by, he had weirded him out.

“E-Excuse me a minute.” Adrien said and he pushed out his chair and marched off to the library bathroom. Nino was decimated. He didn’t have feelings for his best friend. He didn’t want to lose him either.

“Oh man. I didn’t think he would be that much of a ‘phobe.” He said as he flopped onto the table, popping his hat off and nearly cracking his glasses. Marinette wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how. Her parents might as well be saints, so she had grown up learning that people who rejected love based solely on gender were toxic and wrong. Adrien deserved the benefit of the doubt, but Nino deserved better than this.

“I do not believe that. Adrien is a very accepting person who respects the feeling of others, no matter what form they take. Him running away was likely because he thought you were expressing interest in him directly. It’s possible he was thinking of the clothing line he modeled recently, called ‘The Chat,’ which was inspired by Chat Noir himself, and made the association. Once he realizes his mistake he will return to apologize, happy that you no longer carry the burden of keeping that side of yourself a secret.” Amoux spoke calmly, almost hypnotically. There had been no pauses of thought. His French was impeccable.

The library was a quiet place by design, but the silence had deepened. Everyone within earshot had been listening in since halfway through the speech. Slowly but surely, they all went back to what they were doing but remained in stunned silence.

Adrien came back from the bathroom not a second later. He raised an eye brow at the sudden silent focus in the room. The librarian must have put her foot down.

“Man, it’s quiet in here.” Adrien whispered as he approached, unaware that he had indirectly caused it.

“Nino, listen. I’m sorry I bailed like that. There was this fashion line I modeled and-“ He didn’t get to finish before Nino got up to give his best friend a bro hug.

“Dude, it’s cool. Amoux explained it.”

“Explained what?” Adrien asked. Amoux had gone back to his book to not pull any more attention to himself. He looked a bit sheepish.

“I do not like doing that in public. But emergency times call for emergency measures.”

Being Eagle for so long meant that some of his powers came through even as a civilian, which meant he saw things that most people could not. It went beyond how people held themselves, eye movements, eating habits, stress responses. With a good memory and long enough observation, he could predict how people would react and know their reasoning.

This time, Amoux could not shake the feeling he had gotten lucky. Something about Adrien just didn’t make sense. There was an invisible wall in his mind pushing him back as he tried to look deeper. Despite his drive to develop his talents and desire to be able to read anyone right down to the core, something, some force, prevented him from wanting to pry into the matter.

Thinking about it, only one other person shared that trait. And she was sitting right behind him.

Sophia sat on a bench in whatever random art gallery Alex had dragged her to. In another life they would both have been artists, but Sophia enjoyed the creation process far more than the presentation. It was an overcast day in Paris with the clouds threatening to rain, so they had planned a day of indoor tourist activities. The two needed to fill time while their kwamis recovered from swimming and sprinting halfway around the world, so here they were.

Alex came back from wherever wing of the gallery she had wandered off to and sat down. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fact that her partner was on her phone in such a beautiful place.

“[Some pretty neat pieces in here. Makes me wish I had brought my sketch pad.]” Alex said wistfully.

“[It would have gotten warped from being in a backpack for so long. But check this out. The local superteam has a really great blog dedicated to them.]” She handed Alex the phone, which had done a decent job of translating the blog into English. Scrolling, she found an article that piqued her interest.

“[‘Heroes of the World’ huh? We might be featured in that.]”

Sophia leaned in to see. The article had a lot of slang that did not translate well, but was surprisingly well put together and researched for a fan-made article. Each hero had an expertly trimmed photo of them in an action pose at the top of a four-paragraph description of their powers and achievements. Finding her own, she liked what she saw.

“[‘Salmon becomes more powerful in water, making her a gift of god to America’s wettest city.’ I wouldn’t mind replacing my wiki page with this. Mine’s so stuffy and rigid compared to yours.]” Alex whined.

“[That’s the point of a wiki page, babe. Straight to the point and dense as hell.]” She did little gestures to emphasize her point, earning a giggle from her partner.

Alex went back to the main page of the blog and finds Eagle in all the thumbnails for the video posts that week. After watching a few, she hands the phone back to Sophia.

“[He’s been in two fights so far. One before we saw him on the news, and one last night.]”

“[Too bad we couldn’t make it to that one. I really want to see those kids fight in person. That Ladybug girl looks like she’s got a lot of spunk.]”

“[We need to find Eagle soon before we run out of money. Too bad we can’t predict when or where their next fight will be…]” Her voice slowed to a trickle as she realized what she was saying. Alex prayed that Sophia had not gotten the same terrible thought she had. Snapping to face her partner confirmed the presence of The Planning Smirk.

“[No. Nope. Nuh-uh. We are NOT going to stage an attack on Paris just to find Eagle.]” But it was too late. Sophia was already looking into her backpack to check up on her kwami. The Planning Smirk had grown to face-splitting proportions as she started giggling menacingly and hurrying to the exit.

“[Don’t you dare! Our visas don’t cover terrorism! Sophia! Stop! Come back here! SOPHIA!]” Alex shouted with growing worry as she chased her partner out of the gallery and onto the street, drawing concerned looks from the tourists they passed.

Sophia knew it was a bad idea. But she was planning to just knock over some small trees, maybe pop a gate off its hinges, make as small a mess as possible as dramatically as possible. She could hear her partner crying hysterics behind her as she ran. As she rounded a corner looking for a rundown park to vandalize, she caught a momentary glimpse of a black butterfly with purple highlights fluttering past.

“[Oncoor! Surf’s up!]” Out of everything her partner had yelled, this is what stopped Sophia in her tracks. She knew Alex was upset with her for charging into her plan without thinking it through, but surely not enough to transform in the middle of the street just to chase her down.

An inhuman roar of rage, followed by panicked screams, was as clear an answer as she had ever received in her live. Her partner was pissed.

Alex stomped around the corner, eyes engulfed in hot blue fire. Her transformation’s usual silver scales were now a vibrant white with orange patches, both tipped with black. Instead of her trident, she carried a pair of oversized fishhooks with some nasty looking barbs.

“[Salmon? Fishy Cakes? Look, I know you’re mad-]” Sophia took a few steps back.

“I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU! ALWAYS RUNNING AHEAD LIKE NOTHING COULD GO WRONG! LET’S SEE YOU RUN ONCE I GET MY HOOKS INTO YOU!”

“[Salmon? What are you saying!?]” She cried, instinctively turning to run.

“I’M KILLER KOI NOW! AND YOU! ARE! FISH FOOD!”

Sophia broke into a full-on sprint, thankful that her many years holding a Miraculous meant that some of her powers had started leaking into her civilian form. While not superhuman, she could out pace and out last Olympians. Her angry partner was no match for her speed normally, but was now keeping pace with some effort.

“[Help!]”

“This Eutectic Point, circled on the graph on page sixty-seven, is the point at which the mixed liquid phase and both the alpha and beta solid phases have the same energy. If we modulate the concentration of the beta phase, we can force all of the alpha phase into liquid form by keeping the temp-“ Ms. Mendeleiev was interrupted by the sound of a crumbling building in the distance and no less than seven phones getting an akuma alert.

Marinette took a deep breath and began her escape.

“Oh my gosh an akuma this close to the school! I gotta hide!” She screamed with a well-rehearsed look of panic plastered on her face. She didn’t care if her classmates thought she was a coward. With as many close calls she had experienced in her civilian form, she felt more than justified given the circumstances and would defend herself as such.

Alya didn’t even bother making an excuse and ran off. Adrien took advantage of her predictable behavior.

“Alya! You can’t just run off like that.” He said just loud enough that she would not hear as he ran after her. Another collapsing building echoed nearby, which got the rest of the class moving.

Some quick transformations later and Chat Noir was running along the rooftops with Ladybug swinging up from the street below. It didn’t take them long to find the akuma and the woman she was chasing.

“Wow, she can run.” Chat said as Ladybug threw her yoyo to swing down to save the woman. Grabbing her, she recognized the woman as one of the tourists they had helped.

“[I need a place to hide!]” She pleaded.

Ladybug could barely understand her through her distressed tone but swung back up to the rooftops.

“Chat!” Ladybug called to her partner while she pointed to a stairwell door, not wanting to verbally give away her plan. They got to the door at the same time and closed in behind them as softly as they could to not draw the attention of the akuma. The tourist put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“[Do you know why the…um, monster, attacked you?]” Ladybug asked, searching for a word to use for ‘akuma.’

“[She…was mad…that I left her behind.]” She said between panting. Ladybug quickly translated for Chat.

“That seems like a lame reason to get akumatized.” He said with suspicion. This tourist was recovering surprisingly fast from having just set a land speed record, he noticed. Ladybug elected not to translate it back.

“[Alright, I’m ready. Let me just get my work clothes on.]” She said to a confused Ladybug. Surly she had misheard.

“[Itippa! Full steam!]” A brown streak flew from her backpack to her ear and she erupted into light. A second later, the tourist had been replaced with a masked hero much like themselves. She wore a skin-tight suit made of brown velvet, over which she wore a crop top leather jacket and a wide belt that was buckled with a large brass cog. Old fashioned welding goggles sat on her forehead in front of the stubby beginnings of antlers. Attached to her wrists were a pair of brass hooves that could flip down to cover her hands.

“Much better. We need to be careful with this fight. She’s pissed, but she’s still my partner. I’m Moose, by the way.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir stared in shock at how openly another Miraculous holder had just transformed in front of them and seemed to instantly learn their language.

“You kids alright? All I did was…ooooh. Right. Should probably explain that.” The French heroes nodded, wanting to know more.

“I don’t mind transforming in front of you guys. You don’t know my name and only know I’m from America. Go ahead and try guessing my identity. As for how you can understand me, active Miraculous holders can always understand each other. Learned that one on a trip to Mexico City. I’m actually still speaking English.”

She sure was talkative and it was a lot to take in, but they were used to weird things happening around them. When you fight people that use powers ranging from anti-love to pigeons, strange becomes the new normal.

“So that means Eagle doesn’t actually speak French.” Chat concluded.

“No, Eagle was French to begin with. You would think his suit was meant to be all patriotic, but it’s actually the French flag. How is my little fledgling, anyway? He’s why we came to Paris and…and why Salmon got mad at me…” She deflated a bit.

“I wanted to fake an attack to draw out Eagle. Just big enough to raise the alarm, then put everything back when he arrived. I didn’t think Salmon would get mad enough to corrupt her Miraculous.” Moose apologized. She absently rubbed her hands together, clinking her hoof guards occasionally.  

“It was Hawkmoth that did it. He sends out evil butterflies to make people his minions by amplifying their negative emotions. All we have to do is find what object the akuma is hiding in and break it.” Ladybug explained. It felt weird having to explain it after so much time dealing with akumas. But here she was, explaining for the second time this week.

“Do you know of anything that she was holding that would be important to her?” Chat continued where Ladybug had left off.

“The earring on her left ear is fake. I made to match her Miraculous to even out her look so she wouldn’t have to take it off all the time to not look lopsided. It was an anniversary gift, so I’d say that’s pretty important.” Moose said while stepping back out onto the roof, boots clinking as the brass hoofprint on her heels met the surface. Killer Koi was nowhere in sight, but the angry roar being carried on the wind pointed them in the right direction.

Chat Noir’s ears had perked up, interested in the implied relationship.

“Anniversary? Are you two…“ He could not help but ask as he built up momentum to cross to the next roof.

“We’re married, yes. The superhero program is legally a scholarship for a university that doesn’t exist, so we get more money if we’re married. Might as well elope, right? So we did what any pair of dishonest scholarship elopers would do and played along with the pet names, hugs, backrubs, little kisses, stuff like that. A couple months in we realized it was real and we never looked back.” It was clearly a story she liked to tell.

Ladybug could practically hear the wheels spinning in Chat’s head, even over the sound of her yoyo chord. She knew full well that he was going to redouble his flirting now that he had evidence of partners-in-justice becoming more.

Chat Noir, to his credit, did not immediately launch into a flurry of pickup lines.

Amoux had a hard time finding a place to transform. His classmates had so much more experience finding the nooks and crannies in the school building that he gave up and found an alley way instead. Scanning for any open doors or windows, he opened his bag to poke at a snoring ball of feathers.

“[Avees, wake up.]”

“[Hero time? Bit early. Sun’s still up.]” Avees stretched with a tiny yawn.

“[New city, new hours. Now get it in gear and let’s go.]” With that little pep talk, the tiny eagle lazily floated out of his bag on outstretched wings. One more yawn and Avees nodded that he was ready.

“[Avees! Wings up!]” He whisper-yelled, lifting his arms as if taking his own command. The kwami became a black streak as it shot towards his collar.

Unlike any other hero he had met, Amoux had found his Miraculous at a young age. He and Avees were coming up on their tenth year together. The kwami had explained to him that transformations become more and more complete over time, with total transformation into an eagle taking a lifetime to happen. Changes in form happened in stages, and he was on the third stage. While each stage became more powerful, most Miraculous holders freaked out and/or retired before they got too far. Learning how to shoot his bow using heavily modified feet had been tricky but worth it for the magical accuracy that came with it.

As Amoux became Eagle, his arms melted away to become wings. He flapped to get off the ground before his feet became talons. Not long after, he knees bent backwards. The familiar sensation of feathers growing all over his body was accompanied by the sudden weight of a quiver on his hip. Taking a moment to adjust to his altered anatomy, he hears the telltale sounds of destruction becoming more distant.

Eagle gives an almighty flap of his wings to shoot out of the alley way and into the air. He surveyes the damage done by the latest akuma victim, flying wide circles over the destruction. Following the warpath carved through Paris, he quickly finds a university aged woman wearing a competition swimsuit with white fish scales running a quarter of the length of each limb. The glint off the sharp point of one of her fishhooks nearly blinds his sensitive eyes.

Remembering the unfortunate habit of his old teammate’s trident doing the same thing gave him a rattling thought.

“I guess all super powered fish like to make my eyes sizzle.” He said to himself with closed eyes, dreading the idea of having to fight someone with Salmon’s powers. His quiver vibrated to signify an incoming call, saving him from the terrible thought. But wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous belonged to a completely different set. How could they be calling him?

Kicking the bottom of the quiver to accept the call, a screen extended on a telescoping rod to give him a better angle on it.

“Hey, Eagle. Long time no see.” Moose said through the phone, the background of the video call a rapidly bobbing horizon. Her voice was bright but her nervousness was palpable. Eagle flinched hard enough to send himself into a tailspin.

“What are you doing here?! Whose covering Seattle?”

“Earthquakes don’t happen every day, you know. We can go on vacation without the city falling into the sea…again.” The gasp behind Moose told him that she at least had Ladybug with her. But there was no ‘the second time wasn’t my fault’ in the background. Salmon took every opportunity to defend her honor whenever the Great Floods came up in conversation.

“…Moose, where’s Salmon?” He squinted at the screen. Not to read her face, but to convey his suspicion.

“About that…You got eyes on the fish monster thing?”

Eagle turned to confirm he had not lost his target. He did not like where this conversation was going.

“That’s Salmon.”

Moose closed the phone built into her hoof guards to the sound of a continues string of colorful curses. She knew that Eagle was going to give her a stern lecture once this all blew over.

“You get the location from him?” Chat asked.

“No, but I can practically hear him splitting quills from here. Hang a right.” She kicked off a chimney to make the turn, knocking off a layer of loose mortar.

“We need to keep her out of the river. Call the police and have them set up a two-block perimeter along the north bank. I’d do it myself, but they would probably prefer a hero they know speaking actual French.”  Moose continued. Ladybug rolls her eyes as she pulls up the one cop on her contacts list she was on a first name basis with. So much for the ground rules.

“Officer Roger, it’s Ladybug. I need a huge favor…” She didn’t seem confident it would happen.

“Local police that bad, huh?” Moose asked Chat.

“It’s more like we don’t have the authority. The police set up barricades how they want, usually to protect landmarks.”

“Europe is weird.” That was all Moose had to say about that.

“I know, right? Ladybug can fix anything once the fight is over, so I don’t see why they bother.”

“I take it back. Europe is awesome!” She had been wondering how Paris repaired things so fast.  

A few rooftops later, Ladybug had finished her call. It was only then she realized how far ahead she was. Moose was dragging behind, with Chat keeping her pace to be a gentleman.

“Something wrong? I get it if you don’t want to fight your wife, but we need to get going.” She could see Eagle circling in the distance. The akuma must have traveled halfway across Paris by now.

“She needs me. You couldn’t keep me out of this fight if you tried. I’m just not used to these super even rooftops. I usually use the kickplates mounted on the sides of skyscrapers to get around. Or run on the street in the bus lane. Whichever’s faster.” Moose hid her jealousy of the tools at the French heroes’ disposal. All she could so was punch, kick, and headbutt things real hard. Great for sending stuff into orbit, not so great for getting around town.

“Well, isn’t this interesting. I’ve never had the pleasure of bringing a Miraculous holder under my wing.” Hawkmoth said to Killer Koi through the pink laser mask that appeared in front of her face. It had taken far too long to establish a link with his newest minion.

“Shut up, old man. I’m not here to go your dirty work for you.”

He pecked through her surface memories, looking for something to use. Alone in his lair, he grimaced when he found that she was gay. Hawkmoth chose his words carefully.

“It seems you’ve had a bit of a lover’s quarrel. She will surely have enlisted Ladybug and Chat Noir to her side by now. You will need to disable them by removing their Miraculous if you want to level the playing field.” He offered as advise, exerting as much of his control through the link as he could without resorting to inflicting pain. Miraculous holders were resistant and strong willed, it seemed, and could not be outright commanded to do his bidding.

“…Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.” The laser mask faded as she went back to raining havoc upon the city.

She had lost sight of Sophia ages ago. That girl could be anywhere by now with that super speed she liked to brag about so much. Might as well keep destroying stuff to draw her out. She was about to leap up to smash an out of place red windmill when the cavalry arrived.

“If you wanted to see the Moulin Rouge that badly, all you had to do is ask.” Moose flirted as she did a perfect three point landing across the street. Despite the serious atmosphere, Ladybug couldn’t help but groan. Chat was taking mental notes, she just knew it.

“Just you and two shoobies? You really think you can stop me?!” Killer Koi challenged as she threw a fishhook at Moose. Thinking fast, Moose flicked her hoof guards into place and punched the hook. The hook was heavier than she thought it would be, stopping dead with a deafening metallic clang instead of being rebounded. And the force behind it just kept coming.

Maintaining the punch meant she was vulnerable to the leaping overhead smash coming down on her. She would have taken the hit had Chat Noir not extended his staff to knock Killer Koi out of the air.

Furious at the interference, she threw her other hook into a vicious spin along the ground to swipe Chat’s feet. The terrible sound of metal scraping pavement shot through his sensitive ears that were already ringing from the sound of the first hook, paralyzing him. Ladybug tackled him out of the way, landing on top of him in an all too familiar position.

“Oh, My Lady, how the tables have turned.” He said more out of habit than flirting. Seeing the spinning hook boomeranging back at them, he flipped Ladybug over his head to swap their positions to dodge.

“That’s better.” This cat never knew when to stop.

Ladybug heard Moose say something about how smooth he was under her breath as she sidestepped out of fending off the hook, sending it careening into a storefront before returning to its master. Pushing Chat off of her by his chin, Ladybug stood up to assess their strategy. There was no reason to drag out this fight.

Killer Koi wound up another attack but her balance was thrown off by two arrows clinking against her hooks. Up above, Eagle nocked another arrow but was hesitant to fire again.

“It’s unlike you to hold your shots.” Moose called up to him.

“Let’s see you shoot at a friend.” He answered in frustration, making Moose flinch.

Ladybug could tell that the longer the fight went on the more emotional damage would be done. This needed to end now, for the sake of their friendship.

“Lucky Charm!” Throwing her yoyo into the air to summon a helpful tool, she was caught off guard when a simple plank of red and black spotted wood appeared about her. Catching it as it fell into her arms she nearly dropped the cooked fillet of fish on top of it. It smelled heavenly.

Moose recognized the fillet for what it was. Depending on how badly her partner had been corrupted, it would either serve as the perfect bait or enrage her into a blind charge. Either way, it would make for the perfect trap. Stepping over to Ladybug, she took the fillet before the younger girl could find a way to use it.

“I’m gonna lead her into a trap with this. Be ready to hold her.” Before the French heroes could react, she was already down half way down the street. At least this time she had a plan.

“Honey! Look at this delicious grilled salmon I’ve got! I’m gonna eat it. All. By. My. Self.” She held the plank above her head as she taunted Killer Koi with it.

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE!” The flames burning from her eyes went from blue to white, doubling in size. Embedding her hooks in the pavement, she charged.

Moose nodded back to the younger heroes, who had taken up positions to grab the akuma. She ran back to them, fillet held high, in a wide arc to keep Killer Koi from seeing the trap until it was ready to be sprung. Depositing the plank on the ground between Ladybug and Chat Noir, Moose jumped high so she would land behind her partner.

Killer Koi ungracefully dove to grab the fish, clamoring to her knees to begin eating like a starved animal. Chat grabbed an elbow and Ladybug followed suit.

“Hey! I was eating that! It’s mine!” She struggled against them but the held firm. Realizing she had no safe way of breaking the earring without giving her partner a super powered love tap to the side of the head, Moose went with the only alternative she could think of. Grabbing Killer Koi’s head from behind, she twisted to present the left ear to the sky.

“Eagle! The earring!”

“I can’t do that! It’ll take her whole ear off!” His arrows were larger than the target. Collateral damage was inevitable.

“We don’t have much choice, do we?” It was taking all her might to hold her partner still.

Eagle steeled himself for what he had to do.

“Eagle Eye!” Activating his ability, the arrow nocked on his bow glowed as he drew the string.

Chat blinked. Something warm splattered on his gloved hand. An arrow was sunk into the street up to the fletching, a black butterfly fluttering out of the small crater. The woman he was restraining went limp as dark purple smoke rolled over her.

Ladybug made quick work of purifying the akuma.

“Pssh ow ow ow ow ow.” Alex held the icepack to her ear. She had fainted after the fight and was only now waking up after several hours. Her memory of her time as Killer Koi was foggy, but she remembered enough.

“[That’s it, I’m going to a different salon for piercings.]” She joked as she sat up in the bed she had been deposited in. Sophia was napping with her head in her lap, curled up to where her body had been.

Looking around she saw a sizable and well-furnished room, much fancier than the hotel they had been staying at. The seal of the United States Embassy hung on the wall above the dresser opposite the bed. A set of passports and visas sat on the night stand next to nearly empty bowls of almonds and chocolate.

“[Morning, beautiful.]” A sleepy Sophia said from her lap. She would have leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead if a small gray mermaid had not flown into her face.

“[Girl, don’t scare me like that! You got hurt so bad that I-I…]” Oncoor burst into theatrical tears. Alex pet the mermaid with her free hand.

“[Whole ear’s still here. See? It just stings.]” She pulled away the ice pack momentarily, feeling her cold ear to make sure she wasn’t lying. It was painful, but intact.

“[You can thank Ladybug for that. They should be back to meet us in the lobby soon.]” Sophia said while checking the time.

“[Back from where?]” Alex wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she thought at least one of the French heroes would have stayed.

“[Turns out all three of them still go to school. I’m starting to wonder how old Eagle is.]”

Sophia stretched and wiggled her way to the edge of the bed to stand up.

“[We need to suit up. Ambassador Zeya wanted to talk to you.]”

Two transformations and an escort to the ambassador’s office later, they were informed that they were not in any legal trouble. Zeya made it clear that Salmon was the victim. Once that was settled, they were taken to the lobby to wait for the other heroes to arrive. No less than four guards joined them.

“[Are the bodyguards necessary? I’m pretty sure we can defend ourselves if need be.” Salmon wondered aloud as she sat down.

“[No offence, Agent Salmon, but you just leveled a quarter of Paris. The citizens of this city are quick to forgive, but they’ll need time to feel safe again. You will be under observation for the time being.]” Said the shorter and burlier guard. Salmon wanted to sink through the floor.

“So this is what you look like.” Chat Noir said as he and Ladybug carried Eagle in through the front door and sat him down in a chair, resting his legs on the table. Eagle was used to such treatment, having attended press conferences at indoor venues. Being carried was more dignified than being pushed around on a cart, at least.

“How’s the ear?” Eagle asked once he was situated.

“Stings real bad, but getting better. From what I remember it was not an easy shot. Good to see that you’re not getting rusty in your retirement.” She readjusted her swim cap to stop it from pressuring her ear.

“And you, Little Miss Polka-Dot, deserve a hug for fixing it.” Salmon lifted a startled Ladybug as she stood, spinning the girl around before losing her footing and tumbling over. Her balance was still recovering.

The heroes talked well into the night, sharing stories of daring-do. After a competitive game of ‘My Supervillain Could Beat Up Your Supervillain’ the guards stepped in to ask them to head home.

“Right. I’ve still got an essay to finish. How long will you be in town?” Ladybug asked, getting ready to carry Eagle outside.

“At least a day or two. Need to do some community service to recover Salmon’s PR.” Moose said. They hadn’t checked the news yet but it would take a major, earthshattering headline to overshadow Salmon’s brief conversion to the dark side.

They said their goodbyes before being escorted back to their room by a very confused looking pair of guards.

Agent Dunn had seen more than his fair share of strange occurrences in his time at the embassy. Paris had become rife with oddities in recent years, not to mention the bizarre customs of foreign dignitaries that he was assigned to protect.

This night had been particularly strange. It was unprofessional to do so, but he needed someone to talk about it with.

Once his shift was over, he pulled one of the other guards that had shared his assignment aside. Agent Duncan seemed to share his desire to discuss the matter. They talked in hushed whispers as they made their way home.

“[I never thought I would see the day when keeping tabs on five teenagers in furry getup would be official business.]”

“[No kidding. And what were they speaking, anyway? Sounded like French but it was all English words.]”

“[It sounded like English with French words to me.]”

“[They must have some techo-magic-whatever doing it. Except for that Eagle guy. He stuck with one language at a time.]”

“[But did you see his knees? I get that bird knees are backwards but that has got to be the weirdest thing I have ever seen.]”

They continued on like that all the way to the Metro station.

Marinette was late to class the next morning. Not by much, but enough to get a sideways glance from Miss Bustier. They had come to an informal agreement to let it slide if the lecture had not started yet, allowing for about forty seconds of grace period once the bell rang. Unlike most students with truancy issues, Marinette actually tried to be on time.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, please pass your Voltaire essays to the front.”

Mainette’s throat went dry. The essay was on her desk at home, forgotten in her scramble to make it on time. Miss Bustier read her like a book and sighed.

“Marinette, we can’t keep doing this. If it’s not on my desk by the end of the lunch break, you will have failed the assignment.”

She felt small, wanting nothing more than for the lesson to begin so her classmates were not focused on her failure to remember things. Chloe had other ideas and pounced.

“You might as well give up now, Marinette. No fashion designer would ever hire someone as flaky and incompetent as you.”

She knew that she shouldn’t let Chloe get to her. But those words hurt. It took everything she had to keep herself from crying. Alya rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder but it didn’t help.

The sound of wood scraping tile behind her startled her from the downward spiral she was feeling.

“Adrien. I need your desk.” Amoux commanded as he stomped down the steps. He had watched these girls for some time now, wanting them to sort it out for themselves. But he’d had enough. Adrien had just managed to pull his note pad to the side before he hopped up to sit on the desk, facing Chloe so he was looking down at her.

Amoux closed his eyes and looked upward as he took a long breath. Snapping down to look Chloe right in the face, he opened his eyes and began to read every aspect to Chloe’s being.

It was the most piercing gaze Miss Bustier had ever seen. She knew she should take control of the situation, but a small part of her wanted to see what was about to happen. Rumors of his skill had reached the teacher’s lounge. He was said to work wonders.

Chloe froze, unable to break away from him once he had locked eye. The anticipating silence in the room had become electric, as if lightning could strike any moment. When Amoux spoke, his voice flowed like warm water, washing over everyone listening.

“Why do you do this? What joy do you derive from the despair of others? Has it truly been so long since you have felt loved that this has become your only source of happiness?” His voice was even, calm, and slow, without a hint of the anger that had initiated this forced therapy session.

“I-I don’t know what you mean. Daddy l-l-loves me.” Chloe stammered. Her face ran through a sea of emotions, betraying her racing thoughts. She could feel his eyes bore through her mind. The more she resisted, the more was brought to bear as she tried not to think of certain memories.

“You used to be such a sweet little girl. You lived with your loving mother in a small apartment away from your father, having been too young to remember the divorce. She was your guiding light. If not for her death, she would have become a shining beacon of hope for all of Paris. You were sent to live with your father, who knew nothing of raising children. He showered you with gifts but could do nothing to ease your pain.”

Marinette could feel her dark emotions flow out of her. It was as if Amoux’s voice had washed a thick layer of mud off her bones and poured it back into Chloe.

“Months passed. You constructed a mask of money to hide the pain you felt, buying your way out of your problems as your father did. Any friendships you had were twisted into relationships of abuse. You watched yourself become a wretched person and could do nothing to stop it. In time, you came to believe the mask was the true Chloe.”

Chloe faltered under the weight of the critique, a single choked sob escaping her throat. Yet she could not look away, as if held in place by an invisible hand.

For a brief moment, Amoux considered stopping there, leaving Chloe to fend for herself in the bottomless pit of emotions he had hurled her into. But he could see the gentle soul within her, buried under a decade of guilt and loneliness.

“You had nearly forgotten what kindness was until a hero appeared. Ladybug reminded you that it was possible, even pleasant, to give yourself freely to others. Memories of your mother came flooding back to you, taking you back to a time before the money had made you cruel. For the first time in years, the mask slipped. You saw what you had become and hated yourself for it. Not knowing what to do, you put the mask back on and tried to forget. But it kept slipping. Just last night, you cried yourself to sleep from the regret of what you had done.”

Chloe did not know when she started crying, but her tears had washed away the makeup that hid the dark circles under her eyes caused by a restless night.

“You want to be a better person, someone you mother could be proud of. That is why you focus so heavily on Marinette, hoping to learn from her example. You see so much of your mother’s kindness in her that it hurts. Nothing would make you happier than to be her friend. But the mask is not easy to remove. On days you manage to show your true face, you can’t bring yourself to even look at her. You remember how you have tormented her and put the mask back on to save yourself from being crushed by the regret.”

Marinette could feel her heart explode with sympathy. She didn’t know how she was going to forgive Chloe for the last four years, but she was willing to try.

Amoux released his gaze and his hold on Chloe, who fell out of her seat into the aisle. By the time she hits the floor she is bawling. After a few seconds of trying, the first thing she did once she got a leg under her was to throw herself up the steps to Marinette’s bench. Chloe looked up at the girl with wet eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette. I just wanted what you had. That selfless kindness…it was too beautiful to watch.” It was the most genuine thing Marinette had ever heard her say. Seeing Chloe humble herself like that made her heart explode a second time. She slid down to the end of the bench and lifted Chloe into a tentative embrace, letting her cry.

“You have a long way to go before you become the person you want to be. Marinette can show you the way, but only you have the power to change yourself for the better.” Amoux concluded as he walked around the girls to return to his desk. Sabrina made her way over to comfort Chloe, hugging her around her midsection.

Miss Bustier could not believe what she had witnessed. In the span of seven minutes, Chloe had gone from a textbook example of a bully to a sobbing apologetic mess. In the years she had taught this class she had been powerless to do anything about the mayor’s daughter in fear of losing her job, or worse, getting the school shut down. But here was this boy, breaking her down and building her back up with a gentle ferocity.

“…Right, the lesson. Um…Never mind. Please read the next chapter for your homework tonight. Class dismissed.” Amoux was a tough act to follow.

It took a moment for the class to realize that they could leave. It took a moment longer for them to decide if they wanted to leave. Miss Bustier had to motion to the door to get them going. Once most of the students had shuffled out, she got to work dealing with the aftermath.

“Amoux, Chloe. You should come with me to the headmaster’s office. You can come if you want, Marinette. And Alya, I would like you to delete the video you just recorded. I don’t even know if you did or not, just delete it.”

Alya gave no protest as she ended the livestream and deleted the recording.

  Author’s notes:

-So, Alex and Sophia are kinda based on my friends whom I ship IRL. (Don’t worry, they were thrilled when I clued them in about being superheroes. Jury’s still out on the shipping)

-I make no claim of understanding for how embassies work. Like a hotel with more security?

-It felt incredibly good to destroy Chloe like that.

-Chapter 3 is a definite MAYBE. posted.

<<Chapter 1 , Chapter 3>>

[morsmordrehasbeensaved]

CONGRATULATIONS HALEY, YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AS EDGAR BONES WITH THE FACECLAIM OF DIEGO BONETA!

We barely even had to read your application to know this would be a definite yes from us. The fact that he's incredibly self-critical as a byproduct of him being "perfect" just fit so well, his relationship with Amelia was wonderfully described by you and his friendships with Ted and Frank just warmed all of our hearts. It was the exact way we had pictured Edgar while we were writing his character, and we were truly blown away by your application, we can't wait to write with you.

Check out our acceptance checklist right here on what to do next!

♔ OUT OF CHARACTER INFO ♔

Name:

Haley

Age:

20! My birthday just passed, actually. It’s August 15th!

Pronouns:

She/Her

Timezone/Activity:

Standard Central Time! (I live in Texas, if that helps) And my activity typically depends on the activity of the roleplay as well as the muse I have for my character. In active roleplays where I love my character I tend to be online pretty much all day. I’m a nanny, so I have a lot of downtime to get online! In number form, I’d say 7/10!

Triggers:

None that I’m currently aware of.

Anything Else?:

Nothing in particular! Just that I appreciate this roleplay and hope that I get the chance to write with you all. :)

♔ IN CHARACTER INFO ♔

Full Name:

Edgar Elijah Bones. I think he’d also go by Ed, also.

Birthday and Age:

Edgar is 17 years old and his birthday is on September 8th, making him a Virgo!

Pronouns:

He/Him

Sexuality/Romantic Orientation:

If you ask him, he’ll tell you that he likes girls. But he’s actually fairly fluid with his sexuality, he’s just never met someone that has challenged the view he holds inside.

Extracurriculars:

He’s listed as a Prefect and a Chaser for his house. He’s also in the Chess Club, the Slug Club, and the Dueling Club. Those are all great with me and line up with my idea of him perfectly!

Personality Traits:

+ Thorough: Edgar makes sure to put careful thought into all of his decisions and actions. He takes into account every detail and leaves no task unfinished. He completes his duties with great care. This can easily be seen if one were to flip through the numerous pages of notes he takes for his classes and the bundle of carefully planned out to-do lists that he keeps in his book bag.

+ Brave: Edgar does not fear pain, nor is he scared of death. He has a fighting spirit and a desire to stand up for those who can’t do it himself. He will do anything the Order asks of him, without hesitation. On the other hand, he also does not mind telling people things that they might not want to hear. Bravery comes in many forms, and Edgar exemplifies a lot of them.

+ Decisive: It does not take Edgar long to come to a decision. He is logical, almost to a fault, and has no trouble coming to a conclusion quickly and effectively, whether or not it is the right one.

+ Charismatic: Edgar Bones is not called perfect for nothing. Perfect implies that someone excels in all aspects of life and this includes socially. He possesses a compelling charm and has perfected his fake smile. He can small talk with the best of them and typically has no problem getting people to like him.

- Stubborn: An unfortunate byproduct of his thoroughness has led Edgar to develop quite a bit of a stubborn streak. Because he tends to his decisions so carefully he resents being told to do otherwise and will dig his heels into the ground, only doing something if he considers it to be his own idea.

- Self-Critical: Perfect has been a large label to live up to and Edgar isn’t so sure if he’s doing a good job. When he does well on something, he attributes it to extremely hard work and good luck. When he fails, he takes it as a direct display of his true abilities. He fears that he will never live up to the expectations before him and if he is proven correct, even in the slightest, then he unleashes an onslaught of self hatred on his psyche.

- Bossy: Perhaps it’s because he’s the eldest, or perhaps it’s because he thinks every decision he makes is the correct one, but Edgar has a habit of telling other people what to do. He doesn’t mean anything wrong by it and most of the time he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it. Still, he can come off as a bit domineering in certain circumstances, which is certainly not aided by his stubbornness.

- Impatient: It takes Edgar half a second to know what he wants so he can be a little bothered when other people choose to take more time with their choices. He forgets sometimes that not everyone is as decisive or sure as he is, which results in him annoying the others around him.

Biography:

It was a rainy day in Devonshire on September 3rd, when Adeline and Edward Bones welcomed their first child into the world. The boy was a tiny thing, hardly meeting 16inches. He was very quiet as well, which worried the midwife. Babies are supposed to wail when they’re born, they were told. Still, crying or not, the baby turned out to be just fine, even if he was a bit on the small side. They named him Edgar Elijah Bones and he quickly became the light of his parent’s life. He had quite the eventful first year. He was walking at nine months, and was beginning to string together words by ten months. Every day, his parents grew more and more impressed with their gifted son. It seemed the Bones’ had proved Adeline’s family wrong and produced a fine boy, regardless of her seemingly less than worthy match. It wasn’t too much longer that the Bones were welcoming another child into their fold, little Amelia. She was born on an unusually bright and sunny day which shone with the subtle beauty of fall, a stark contrast to the circumstances surrounding Edgar’s first day of life.

Though the weather on the day of their births were quite different, Edgar and Amelia turned out to be quite similar. Both were driven, ambitious, and cutthroat when it came to their success. Their parents taught them that there was nothing they couldn’t do, so Edgar tried to do everything. He read, he wrote, he painted, and he played Quidditch. Whatever he could do to expand his horizons, he did. – And he enjoyed it too, at least for awhile. He was around eight years old whenever he finally understood the pressure that was being rested upon his shoulders. He must do better. He must be better than those around him. His classmates, his friends, his enemies, and even his sister. He quickly realized that being Edgar Bones meant that you were to be the best. He certainly tried his hardest to meet these expectations. He read every book that his father gave him, perfected the manners that his mother tried to instill in him, and guided his sister in her endeavors. Whatever it took to make his parents proud.

A week before his twelfth birthday, Edgar said goodbye to his family and headed off to Hogwarts, where the real work started. It took the Sorting Hat half of a second to put him in Ravenclaw, so off he went to the Eagles. He had never been so excited. For his entire life he’d wanted to be sorted in the house of bronze and blue. They valued knowledge, wit, and intellect and there was no shortage of those things in the Bones household. Unfortunately, he found it difficult to make friends with his fellow housemates and fell into loneliness rather quickly. It felt as if he went weeks without having a genuine conversation with anybody and it was beginning to wear him down. Edgar wasn’t an especially social child, but even he wasn’t immune to the woes of solitude. One day, in his second month at school, this all changed. He was in Defense Against the Dark Arts, silently sitting next to Augustus Rookwood, when the Professor decided to rearrange the seating. They were in class with the Hufflepuffs and he was placed at a table next to one Ted Tonks. Ted was Edgar’s saving grace at Hogwarts. They became fast friends, spending many a weekend on the Pitch, practicing their throws. Ted introduced Edgar to Frank Longbottom and a trio was born. A year later, Amelia left home and followed her brother to Hogwarts. To Edgar’s delight, she was also sorted into Ravenclaw and the two siblings became nearly inseparable. Finally, he completely settled into life at Hogwarts.

Or, well, he settled as much as was possible. As the years slipped by and his school work became ever more difficult, Edgar found himself struggling to keep up. He’d done exceptionally well for his first four years, making his parents proud. However, when OWL’s rolled around, he found that it was no longer as easy as it had been in semesters past. He refused to let that stop him, though. He was Edgar Elijah Bones and he was supposed to be perfect. That’s what he’d been hearing his entire life. And it was true, he supposed. He smiled when he was supposed to, he made friends with good people, he was at the top of class, excelled at Quidditch, and was destined for a thriving Ministry career. What else could somebody want in a son? Edgar’s goal, for as long as he could remember, was to make his parents proud. And he’d succeeded thus far. His parents couldn’t be happier with their boy. Which is why he found it impossible to tell them that he wasn’t sure if he could do this. How could he let them down? How could he let his sister down? He was her older brother, he was supposed to pave the way. Although, it seemed Amelia needed little help with that. She seemed to thrive under the pressure, whereas he felt like he were drowning. Still, he persevered and made it through his exams with flying colors. Sixth year was much the same. Only now, NEWT’s were approaching and if he had struggled so hard with his exams years prior, how was he going to survive the Nastily Exhausting exams? He refused to admit it to anybody, but he was terrified.

He seemed to be terrified by a lot of things this year. Not only did the thought of the impending year fill him with a dreadful anxiety, but he also now had blood supremacists to contend to. It was an easy decision to sign up for the Order of the Pheonix. One of this best friends was muggleborn and the Bones believed in honor and dignity for all. He was quite passionate about the cause and was not one to stand for any such speak of Death Eater sympathies in his midst. There were not many things that pushed him to draw his wand, but prejudiced bigots ignited a fire inside of him. He was willing to lay down his wand and his life in service to those that needed him. Only time would tell if he would be required to.

Additional Info:

Some headcanons I thought of while making this app!

He’s been wearing a small leather bracelet for years because he considers it lucky.

He only owns three pairs of shoes. One for everyday wear, one for formal wear, and one for physical activity (labor, fighting, Quidditch, etc.)

He has a large collection of business cards.

Still has the comic book collection he started as a boy.

He’s a fanatic about Wizard’s Chess.

He has a nice singing voice, although he rarely shows anybody. Only the walls of his shower are lucky enough to hear.

He smokes cigarettes

Brave as he is, he’s vastly afraid of insects.

He has Virgo sun sign, but his moon sign is in Leo. His personality reflects this.

[lareporteragonzeauxblog]

Wisdom teeth, witless television

When I explained the content of this post to my sister, she asked me how it was relevant to the research I came to do in Peru. My response: everything I do here is relevant... right? Relevant or not, I blame this post on the physical limitations I’ve been under since Friday, the day on which I had my wisdom teeth removed. This is the result of a weekend spent in bed, eating ice cream and indulging in one of America’s favorite past times. 

Although my mother has worked as a dental hygienist for over thirty years at various reputable dental offices, I’ve waited until now, at the ripe age of 27, to get my wisdom teeth extracted by a maxillofacial surgeon that has no connection whatsoever to my mom. What adds to the irony is the fact that I’m currently living in Lima, Peru. Yep, that’s right: I declined several offers to have the unnecessary third molars extricated from my overcrowded jaw while living in the states with full dental coverage and, instead, opted for their removal at Peru Dental in the Miraflores district of the capital city with international student health insurance that may or not retroactively cover the procedure. This is in no way intended to discredit Peruvian dental care: the care I received was perfectly adequate (my wisdom teeth are no longer in my mouth!), and I especially appreciated the expediency with which the situation was handled from start to finish. In the United States, for example, this process can easily take months, from initial inquiry phone call to intake appointment to scheduling to surgery to recovery. Here, in Lima, it took a whopping total of four days. It began with a desperate email sent out in the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday complaining of extreme pain and inflammation at the site of my lower right third molar, and ended Friday at approximately 12:45 pm, when I walked out of the clinic with blood soaked gauze pads shoved into the empty sockets that once housed my wisdom teeth.

In addition to quickness of the whole ordeal, I was impressed with the nonchalant confidence of my surgeon: he worked with tact, precision, and a sprinkle of humor appropriate for the foreboding occasion. Sure, he was about twenty-five minutes late to the scheduled appointment time, but, rather than feeling annoyed, I found comfort in the way he walked into the clinic wielding an impressive leather suitcase on wheels and an air of unapologetic arrogance. This was clearly not his first rodeo. From the moment he covered my face with what seemed to be a medieval medical garment – a green piece of stiff cloth sporting a mouth hole – I knew I was in good hands. He applied a local anesthetic and, before I knew it, I heard (but luckily did not feel) crunching and ripping, indicative of a successful extraction. He asked how I was feeling as he casually proceeded to wash his hands.

“Ah, it’s pisco sour day tomorrow,” he lamented with a shoulder shrug and instructions to avoid spicy foods and jogging. As we parted ways, I thanked him profusely, sputtering drool and feeling for my lips, which were entirely numb. He winked at me coolly as he answered a call on his cell, and that was that. A lovely experience overall. My only complaint thus far is that I wasn’t prescribed something a bit more... effective for the pain. I had envisioned myself post-surgery lying prostrate in an OxyContin induced bliss, sucking down vanilla milkshakes and mango licuados. Instead, I popped 100mg of Ketoproteno, some nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory Brazilian drug that is about as effective at killing pain as those little pink sugar pellets girls take the week of their period are at preventing pregnancy.

The first three hours after the extraction were fairly miserable: my lips were numb, my gums were inflamed, and my mouth was full of bloody, viscous saliva. Additionally, my throat muscles were incredibly tender in the aftermath of all the aggravation, making swallowing quite uncomfortable. One glance in the mirror was enough to conjure images of horror film victims, as gooey crimson matter spilled from my lips into the sink, staining the porcelain red. Without adequate drugs, without the hope of consuming a delicious frozen beverage in the foreseeable future, with a mouth that felt estranged from my body and absolutely no desire to be in a vertical position, I concluded that the only recourse for such dire straits was mind-numbingly stupid television. Alas, after months of ignoring my sister’s rave reviews, I succumbed to the ridiculous pleasure of watching The Bachelor, Season 21, starring Nick Viall.

As a self-described progressive liberal feminist with a strong aversion to reality TV, I’ve seen more than my fair share of this show. My sister and mother are serious fans, and Monday evenings during “Bachelor season”, when new episodes are released to millions of eager viewers, play out in eerily ritualistic fashion in our household. It’s well understood that everyone, my father included, will gather in front of the big screen at approximately 6:57 pm to appreciate this paragon of pop culture. Talking is only permitted at commercial breaks, and meals are planned around the two hour viewing block from 7-9 pm. Assuming the role of disinterested-but-acquiescent-eldest-daughter, I sit in the leather recliner by the window, purposefully apart from the other members of my family who genuinely enjoy watching the buffoonery, whereas I pretend to hate every minute of the show and jeer at the disgracefully dimwitted banter of the cast members. I get immense pleasure out of blatantly counting the number of times the characters say “like” with my hands and openly criticizing the shallowness of the supposedly deep conversations held during one on one dates (i.e., “Like, I’ve never had anyone, like, open up to me so... much before” in response to one contestant’s scant account of a car wreck he was in as a teenager). It especially irks my sister when I interrupt particularly intense scenes with witty play-by-play.

Given my history with The Bachelor and its relatively low ranking on my scale of “things that are important and/or impactful in my life”, I was shocked to find myself utterly captivated by the current season (or at least by the first five episodes available on ProjectFreeTV). Perhaps it was the drug cocktail affecting my judgment, perhaps the fact that this was my first time watching the show alone, perhaps the content was suddenly inexplicably more interesting than any season prior – whatever the reason, I devoured episode after episode hungrily, paying undivided attention to every little detail.

Episode 1, for example, begins with a parade-like procession of all the Bachelor’s suitors stepping out of a limo and introducing themselves to him in creative – and often painfully embarrassing – ways as they vie for the coveted first impression rose (I felt a twinge of pride when Raven jumped out the vehicle squealing like Pig Sooie, paying homage to my former stomping grounds). Before Nick meets them, however, the viewers watch brief autobiographical clips about each contestant, in which she describes herself and her motives for being on the show. I was struck by the number of highly educated, working professionals on this season. Among the ranks are: an attorney, a neonatal nurse, a travel nurse, a special education teacher, several business owners, a mental health counselor, a doula, a plastic surgery office manager, a chef, and a dental hygienist, to name a few. Several of the women speak multiple languages and sought to impress Nick by wooing him with their polyglot skills fresh out the limo. While their careers and backgrounds vary greatly one to the next, it seems that most of the women on this season view marriage in a similar light: as the last critical ingredient in the recipe for happiness. Great hair plus good friends plus sweet career equals almost complete – secure a husband and you’re there.

As much as the aforementioned equation seems to reek of judgment, I have to admit, I was surprised to find myself identifying strongly with many of these women and their sentiments regarding life’s priorities. I, too, have always firmly believed that serious partnership and/or marriage should ideally come after one has developed a strong sense of worth and self, that only after one has expressed his or her ability to be an independent agent is that person capable of choosing an ideal partner. Basically, I prescribe to that equation (minus the fabulous hair) in that it emphasizes the timing and placement of serious romantic commitment in the series of life events. That being said, I have yet to secure a career, and I feel I have a long way to go in terms of cultivating my sense of self – but I’ve been in love before. I’ve even made serious decisions based on that love, choices that have altered the course of my life.

While I have absolutely no regrets about any of those experiences or the unexpected beauty of their outcomes, I’m quite certain that all my previous relationships have come to an end precisely because they broke from my “timeline.” Because I had fallen in love before having real direction or a sense of where/what/how/who I wanted to be, I felt constricted, guilty for being selfish, pressured to make decisions delineated by partnership boundaries. Whether those feelings were projected on me by former lovers or self-induced is impossible to determine: what matters is that I simply wasn’t ready to relinquish the utterly individual journey of cultivating me, a process that undoubtedly differs for everyone but, in my experience, is defined by a singular, uncompromising self-determination. Perhaps, then, it would be wise for someone with my mentality to approach partnership, cohabitation, marriage – deeper and more formal commitments that go beyond physical attraction, desire, or even love – as the last pieces of a puzzle that has mostly been solved. A sentiment which I apparently share with many of the contestants on Season 21 of the Bachelor.

Let me be clear: In no way am I claiming that The Bachelor has suddenly become a progressive, feminist, highly intellectual program – quite the contrary. In fact, it is due to the inherently ridiculous nature of the show that I find certain themes so compelling in this season. In seasons past, I have abhorred the obsession with marriage that defines the show. The objective of The Bachelor is to produce an engaged couple in slightly less than two months, after all. I blame the show for perpetuating and culturally cementing the idée fixe that romantic love must progress in a series of urgent symbolic displays: social media posts, a ring, a designer dress, a house, a dog, a pregnancy, a baby, etc. The first date Nick organized for the women on this season was a wedding dress photo shoot. Enough said.

Though there are several aspects of this round of The Bachelor that make it unique from previous seasons, such as the selection of a cast that actually includes non-white women and one contestant that openly identifies as bisexual, it still seems to extol traditional gender roles to an extent that makes me uncomfortable. While I understand that The Bachelor is a reality TV show and physical appearance is the first thing to grab viewers’ attention, I often feel as though the contestants – and the Bachelor himself – seem to prioritize and laud a brand of feminine beauty that is not only harmful but unrealistic: the women are always dressed in excessively fancy outfits that seem unfit for the occasion (a floor length evening gown for lunch?), sporting full make-up and long flowing locks to do something like scoop cow dung (yes, that happened in episode 5). In no way am I trying to police women and their freedom to express themselves however they please – sometimes it’s fun to curl your hair, put on some lipstick and rock a sexy mini skirt. But it’s alarming when every contestant feels pressured to adhere to one specific, narrowly defined set of beauty standards every time the camera is rolling, and it’s even more alarming when an individual expresses grief and stress in the face of “failing” to meet such standards – a feeling that has been expressed quite often on this season already. Quite honestly, I can’t see how it would be possible to be on a show like this and not feel the pressure to look “perfect” given that Nick almost always leads with a comment on how the women look, the most blatant example of which took place during initial introductions as he looked each contestant up and down before speaking to her, only to then comment on how “great” she looked or mumble “wow” while shaking his head side to side in awe. 

Despite these problematic elements, which are less specific to The Bachelor and more generally a symptom of our society’s ills, I felt inspired by many of the cast members who introduced themselves as empowered women proud of their accomplishments. Had they obviously been in hair and make-up for hours just moments before these introductions? Yes. So what. I appreciated their perception of marriage not as a goal in and of itself, but as a component of a much larger picture. As I listened to many of the women on Season 21 explain their desire to be on the show, it seemed that they genuinely viewed partnership as a supplement to rather than the essence of identity.

Is The Bachelor still full of shallow conversations and unbelievably petty gossip? Yes. Is the underlying premise still ridiculous and counteractive to cultivating realistic notions of what constitutes a healthy marriage? Mostly. Did it distract me momentarily from excruciating pain and even offer some fodder for larger conversations on female empowerment and autonomy in romantic relationships? Absolutely.

In conclusion, I decided to post this because I’m feeling incredibly humbled. Humbled by having my face momentarily deformed with swelling, humbled by the fact that I identify with contestants on a show that I have always ridiculed, humbled by the realization that my mind isn’t as open as I thought it was. Who knew reality TV could be so enlightening?