#beginning to be sincerely grateful to my own upbringing

[misskamelie]

Having a cousin with a newborn child really makes you realize how out of touch you are with societal expectations

[hlizr50]

Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 6

A little pain relief for everything I've put you through

Read on AO3

When Azriel landed in the training ring he shook his head, exasperated with himself. Now that he was here, what exactly did he plan to do? He couldn’t very well find Gwyn’s room, shake her awake, and beg her to forgive him.

He took a moment to survey the ring, racks of wooden weapons, steel, shields. The Valkyries had grown from desperation to get Nesta on the right track to three females surviving the Blood Rite to a small legion of Illyrians, priestesses, and other fae. They would be outgrowing the space soon, and he pondered that as the stone glowed blue in the moonlight.

Gwyn had never spoken much about the Blood Rite, not that he could blame her. The Illyrian tradition was barbaric under normal circumstances, and much more so with Briallyn’s meddling – with the intention of killing all three of the females. Azriel couldn’t help but grin to himself.

How spectacularly had her plan backfired.

He had not admitted that Cassian was not the only one sleepless and mortified that week, but where the general was a barely-contained force of will and expression Azriel was schooled in hiding his emotion. He’d had to stay stoic – to find Briallyn and Koschei, to support his brother while his mate fought for her life. But his relationship with Gwyn had begun to develop by then, as well. Slowly. It was all he could do some days not to fly in and destroy them all. She had already suffered unspeakable horrors, and the possibility that she had been at the mercy of Illyrian males – bred with a thirst for blood and flesh – had been nearly unbearable.

When that general is finished hurting her she has to feel the soul-crushing terror of watching the next soldier take his place because you don’t come to save her.

He ran a hand through his onyx hair, remembering Nesta’s words. His shadows seemed to wither around him, drooping over his shoulders and wings. How had it come to this?

The shadowsinger sat himself down on the ground, knees drawn up. He rested his forearms on them and gazed at the ink-dark sky painted with stars. Much like his High Lord, seeing the stars had always been a comfort to Azriel – a reminder that he was free from the prison of his upbringing, that he had escaped and had replaced his father and brothers with a family that cared for him and showed him what love and brotherhood really meant.

His found family had grown so much in such a short time. He was grateful for that, for so many reasons. Rhys had emerged from Under the Mountain a broken male and Feyre had helped piece him back together. She had quickly become a glue for all of them, holding them tight and treating them with such love that Azriel was often awed by it. It wasn’t hard defending her, being dedicated to her safety as High Lady. She was far more than a monarch to him.

Then came Nesta and Elain, and what a storm that had been. Cassian and Nesta were meant to be since the beginning, but that path had been long and painful, and not just for his ears and the new… sanitation concerns for public living spaces in the house. Sometimes he was surprised that he counted Nesta as his friend. She had been intentionally hurtful so many times. How often had he seen the pain in his brother’s countenance because of something she had said or done? And yet now he understood her, maybe more than he cared to admit. She had been hurting and afraid and overflowing with self-loathing.

He had hurt Gwyn for those very reasons.

Gwyn.

He felt his shoulders and wings sag with the weight of Nesta’s questions tonight. Accusations thinly veiled as questions, and each one like a carefully crafted throwing knife plunged into his gut. He’d made her cry for at least the third time in as many weeks. Training and working to exhaustion, and not being able to sleep because of the worsening nightmares – nightmares that had cruelly transformed to remind her that he had abandoned her.

Even his shadows felt heavy.

The spymaster hung his head, shame like a blanket smothering him in summer heat. How could he ever forgive himself for causing that pain? It was a fate he had personally prevented, and now she was forced to experience it in her dreams. Because of him. Because he was a coward.

Azriel let his eyes drift closed and focused on his breathing. Sleep would not be an option tonight, and he could only pray that the priestess was sound asleep in the house, getting the rest she so desperately needed. Training didn’t seem to be in the cards either, as he sifted through the torrent of thoughts and emotions. He just needed to sit and think. And in the morning, he would speak with Gwyn as soon as he could. He would fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

“Azriel?”

The inky tendrils flitted to life around him at the sound of that voice. Cauldron damn him, of course she would find him now. But part of him was relieved to be able to talk to her so soon – that she was even here.

“Azriel, are you alright?” His heart squeezed at the softness of Gwyn’s voice, music to his ears – a sweet melody with harmonies of concern and kindness. How could she still be so kind to him?

“I don’t deserve to be asked that. Especially not by you,” he murmured, staring down at the stone between his feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Azriel.” Her soft footsteps seemed to echo in his head, a ringing alarm that she was coming closer. He didn’t want to run from her, but his heart was still racing. How could he face her inevitable rejection? He noticed her shadow fall over the space between his legs and when he looked up she was crouching in front of him, eyes shining with sincerity. “You deserve for people to care about you. And I do. I won’t just leave you out here alone when anyone could see the weight of the world pressing down on you.”

Gods, but wasn’t that exactly what he had done to her?

The shadowsinger had no air in his chest as he studied her. The expression on her face was difficult to describe – caring and teasing and scolding all rolled into glittering ocean eyes and the slightest quirk of her full lips. She rose and his gaze followed as she held her hand out to him, beckoning him to stand with her. It took more courage than he cared to admit to place his violence-scarred hands in hers, but their warmth spread through him like sunshine warming his bones as she helped him to his feet.

She didn’t let go, and that gave him the strength he needed.

“Nesta found me at the river house tonight. She had… a lot to say,” Azriel began as he saw color bloom on Gwyn’s cheeks. She looked down to their hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for her to –“ He squeezed her hands and she snapped her head back up to meet his gaze.

“I deserved every single bit of venom she threw at me, Gwyn. Do not apologize.” The shadowsinger looked down, then, unsure how to move forward or which of his many transgressions he should address first. So he asked, “Is it true? About the nightmares? That… that I don’t come for you?” He could feel the emotion catching in his throat, cracking his voice. His eyes burned as he looked back to the priestess. Her lips were pressed together as she tried to keep the silver lining her eyes from spilling down over her cheeks.

“Yes,” she whispered, lashes lowering as the silent tears fell. Each droplet was a nick in his heart, the guilt and pain salting those wounds. How could she be so strong, to endure this agony and yet hold the hands that caused it? He released one of the hands and lifted it to her face, hesitating with his fingers a breath away from her cheek. Azriel had his mouth open to ask if he could touch her when she leaned her face into his palm. He brushed at her tears with his thumb before bringing up his other hand, cupping her jaw.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, pleading silently for her to look at him. The shining pools that opened to him were so enthralling, depths shimmering with trepidation. Gods, what he would do to bring back the joy in those eyes. “I will always come for you. No matter what. And I will never be able to forgive myself that there might be any part of your mind or your heart or your soul that could believe otherwise.” He watched as she took a shuddering breath, but her eyes held his and he was emboldened.

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn. For all of this. I was a fool and a coward and I let my guilt and my fear own me. And it only hurt you.”

Gwyn’s hands covered the scars on his own as she pulled them away from her face, returning them to their place entwined between them. Azriel stayed silent and her head tilted as she studied him.

“What could you possibly be afraid of?” she released a hoarse, hiccupped laugh. The shadowsinger could only gulp down a breath and look toward the stars.

“I… I was afraid of the feelings I was developing for you. And of the pain I would feel when you would see all the things I have done and the monster that I am and run away from me. Or that you would be hurt because of this darkness inside of me.” His eyes had returned to hers and, while he saw understanding swimming there, her expression was uncompromising.

“Have I not been hurt already?” Her bluntness shocked him, and he felt the slightest twinge of panic that told him to run. Her fingers tightened like a vice around his hands and he saw her eyes darken, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t you dare even think about running away, Azriel. Not now. I deserve better from you.” Even his shadows seemed focused on where their hands touched, intent on keeping them tied together.

She did. She deserved so much better. Better than what he’d done. Shame washed over him that he could have thought to flee from her. Again. He had already wronged her… too many times. But he had come here determined to right those wrongs. Azriel wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to give her what she deserved, if he would ever be good enough for her. But he sure as fuck was going to try.

“You’re right,” he conceded, that panic replaced by resolution and a faint, foolish glimmer of hope. “I’m not going anywhere.” She grinned softly and he thought his chest would burst from relief. They were still here, together, talking. They were going to figure this out.

“Why did you run, Azriel? If you care for me, like you say,” she demanded, that sea-deep stare piercing straight into his soul. “Why? Why are you afraid of me seeing who you are?”

He should have known that she would demand an explanation. Gwyn was strong and confident. She knew her worth and what she deserved, and him sharing the story behind all of his idiotic decisions was the very least of that. But he was not prepared, and he didn’t want to. He never wanted to darken others’ lives with his history.

“That’s… a long story, Gwyn,” he huffed, hoping that might be the end of it. But he saw her eyes, determination and challenge and fire blazing blue in the moonlight.

“We have all night.” She released his hands and gestured to the darkness around them. She would not be deterred, would not back down until she accomplished her goal. It was one of the many things he admired so much about her. “Should we sit?”

Azriel found himself smiling as he nodded, sitting cross-legged on the stone. Even though the impending admissions rang as a death knell in his mind, it warmed his heart to know that she cared so deeply – that she wanted to know the worst of him.

He had put her through enough, and he could relive his pain and push out his fear for this night, if only for her.

“I don’t know where to start.” He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he was usually good at hiding. But then Gwyn – that sweet, incredible, special female – gathered his other hand with those long, pale, graceful fingers and he felt the tension ease. He looked at her, taking in the beauty and serenity of her features. Freckles were scattered over cheeks stained pink, an encouraging smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“The beginning seems like a good place, don’t you think?”

So that’s where he began.

~~~

Azriel was not proud that he could not find the strength to look at Gwyn as he walked her through his story, but he could still hear and feel her reactions. And he dared a glance at her from time to time, trying to read everything her eyes were saying. He told her about the cell he was kept in as a child, how little touch or affection or love he had experienced, and how the shadows around him seemed to move and react and speak. She clutched his hand tighter when he told her about what had happened to them, that his brothers had set fire to them to see how he would heal. She hadn’t said a word, but he smelled the salt from tears and felt impossibly soft strokes of her thumbs over those scars.

He explained his time in Illyria and the fearsome reputation he and Cassian had to maintain, simply to make up for the circumstances of their birth. And while Cassian had been brute force and power, Azriel was deadly calm, precision, intellect, terror. He admitted to her how he had hoped to find validation in his role as spymaster under Rhysand’s father, and that he could truly revel in his duties under the right circumstances.

“Those soldiers I killed in Sangravah,” he told her. “I would have enjoyed dragging out their deaths as long as possible for what they did to you.”

Gwyn’s hands were so gentle around his as he told her how much the death and darkness grated against his soul, and how he’d had nothing to tether him to the light. He talked to her about Mor, a waste of literal centuries. And then, somehow, he told her about Elain. Not that he’d loved her, because he never had. But that he’d felt entitled to her, like he deserved what his brothers had found with the other two sisters. That he was the third brother and she was the third sister and that was all that mattered. His entitlement, his lust and desire for the bond - as opposed to love for the person - just another ugly facet of his true self.

“So I suppose that brings me to you, to these past few weeks.” Azriel made sure to meet her gaze for this. “I panicked after the necklace, because I wasn’t prepared for what it would do to me to see that hurt in your eyes. And when I told you things would go back to normal I still didn’t know what to do. I thought distance would be best between us, because I knew you would be able to draw me out of myself. And that was dangerous.”

The shadowsinger’s throat burned with emotion when Gwyn smiled softly. He could see so much roaring in her gaze, but there was no sign of pity or disgust or fear. Azriel ran his free hand through his hair before resting it atop their other clasped hands. Wetness burned his eyes, but he didn’t care.

“When I found you in the rain that night, I could smell your tears and I saw your hands – split knuckles and bruised, swollen fingers. And,” he choked down his feelings even as the tears began their descent, “and I was torn apart with the guilt. It was my fault that you were doing that to yourself. I might has well have put those marks on you with my own two vile hands.” Azriel closed his eyes and let the tears fall – not many, but enough. The silence rang through his ears, his history hanging between them. He waited for the fear, the rejection, especially when she drew her hands away from his. But his eyes snapped open when delicate calloused fingers stroked his cheeks. Gwyn had risen to her knees to dry the wetness on them, her stare a storm of trust and understanding... and compassion.

“Thank you for telling me your story, Azriel,” she whispered. “I see you. You have nothing to fear. I’m still right here.” Then she smiled brightly, and he unraveled.

“Gwyn, I don’t know if you can ever forgive me – I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t. But I care for you as more than a teacher, more than a friend. You are a light in my dark life and these past few weeks have been miserable without you in them.” Her smile widened slightly and he reached out a thumb to catch a stray tear that had fallen from those precious, beautiful eyes. He felt his own grin pushing his cheeks against her warm hands.

“I care for you, too, Azriel. As more than a friend.”

He held that watery stare until she released his face. She stood up, brushing off her knees before reaching her hands to him again to help him to his feet. He tilted his head curiously at the determination flashing in her eyes.

“Here is what’s going to happen,” she began, looking down at her hands in his. “Before we pursue anything… romantically, I need to be sure that this isn’t something that will happen again.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she pressed her fingers against his lips. “We both have darkness and fear and I understand that. But if you feel it taking over, I need you to come to me, to talk to me. Because if I open my heart to you and this happens again – if you insist on shutting yourself off from me or deciding for me what I deserve or want – I will be heartbroken.” The confession left Azriel raw.

“What can I do, Gwyn? How can I reassure you?” He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“We are going to go back to how things were before this mess.” She had returned her hand to his and gave both a squeeze. A shadow darted down around them, as if to approve of the contact. “The way it was that led us to realize that we feel the way we do. And you are going to prove to me that we can have what we had before I found out about that stupid, lovely necklace. Do you think you can do that?” He could have fallen to his knees seeing the hope in those ocean eyes, mirroring the spark of hope inside of him. It was something he hadn’t dared to let himself fully feel with her.

“I will.” Azriel’s voice was low and rough. “I swear it.”

“And then we can decide what comes next. And I can prove to you that your hands and your darkness are just as important to me as the rest of you.”

He was grinning like a fool, he knew. He still had a chance, because Gwyneth Berdara was the definition of grace and love. And by the Mother he would not screw this up.

He felt more than saw her wrap her arms around his back, pulling herself into him. For a moment he was frozen by the intimacy of it – shocked by her initiation of it – but he quickly let his arms settle around her waist. He breathed in, pulling her tighter, and leaned his cheek on the crown of her head.

“Don’t let me down, Shadowsinger,” she muttered into his chest. He chuckled and dared to move one hand to comb through her hair. “I want to see… what comes next.” He wanted to see, too. He wanted to know what it was like to look to the future and see more than dread and loneliness and exhaustion. He could see it with her.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Berdara.”

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[blackbat05]

I just watched Shang-Chi so here’s my review! It may be on the spoiler-y side so don’t read if you don’t want to get spoiled! If you want to talk about the movie feel free to slide in and chat! :)

BELOW:

1) Visuals

It was so breathtaking watching this masterpiece on the big screen. If you can, watch it in the cinema, I promise you won’t be disappointed.

2) Cast

Like so many of the MCU castings, Simu Liu as Shang-Chi is a bulls-eye. Being Asian and Chinese, my parents grew up watching Hong Kong films and although I respected what it bought to the table, I never really understood it. But seeing Tony Leung as Wenwu, it was such a balanced and nuanced character, considering he’s supposed to be the “villain” of the film. I would really love to say more but all I would say is that a villain doesn’t have to be outrageous to be fearful and Mr Tony Leung showed that perfectly. The father-son relationship was also beautifully crafted where there seemed to be some fear from Shang-Chi against his father but at the end there’s no trace of it. I’ll just say that with the experiences that I went through, I could really relate to that dynamic. Nevertheless, Wenwu’s method of upbringing was toxic, I will not deny that.

The girls also took the film to a different level in my opinion and I’m so grateful that Katy and Xialing are so different but so powerful in their own ways. In the beginning, Katy seems to be portrayed as someone who didn’t know what she wanted in life. But as we find out that she has a degree from a prestigious and respected university, it allows us to think there’s more that meets the eye. I can safely say, in the Asian context, I have seen so many close friends of mine doing what their doing now because their parents wanted them to and you can kind of predict the outcome. It’s still an existing problem in our society today and there will never be a quick solution to it. All I can say is that I’m grateful that my parents are supportive of whatever I’m doing.

On the other hand, Xialing grew up in an environment where girls weren’t allowed to do things that boys do but she didn’t let that define her. I for one have heard too many times in the classroom or just during my daily life: “can I have a few strong guys to carry so and so”. You have no idea how annoyed I was. I still hear that until today. To give you reference, I’ve been playing tennis competitively for 10 years, I grew up in an athletic family where I was trained by my father and my mother did athletics when she was younger. Anyways, like thank god my father isn’t Wenwu or remotely anything like him. He told me this one phrase and it describes Xialing perfectly. ‘STRONG IS BEAUTIFUL.’ Thank you Xu Xialing for being a role model for young Chinese girls. It’s been a long time coming.

Also, note to all directors. This is how you do a platonic friendship. God if the two friends continue into the MCU please please remember Director Daniel’s vision!

3) Action sequences

The fight scenes were so smooth, fluid and graceful. I’m not kidding you when I meant I could see every hit, every punch, every kick. Maybe skeptics would say that some were in slo-mo so I’ll leave it there but I’ve never felt so mesmerized and so calm by watching a fight scene. I would say that it is up there with Cap TWS as they are both equally action packed but in their own way.

4) Impactful part

Ying Nan with Shang-Chi! Where she simply just grabbed his hand and basically told him to relax as that’s the key to doing better. I think that spoke so much to me as I always had a problem relaxing when I was still active as a tennis player. I wish I realized sooner so that I didn’t have to go through so much confusion and emotional turmoil. Even now, I still find myself reminding that whatever I do, I have to be relaxed to give my best performance. So I’m glad this film reminded me again.

5) A bit dodgy

Haha ok well my friend pointed this out to me but I guess it’s film right so it’s all for the plot. But wow Katy really following her friend to stop his dad from potentially releasing soul sucking monsters into the world and then picking up some Katniss-level archery skills within a day(?) and practically saving Shang-Chi and Xialing (help I had serious Natasha-Vormir flashbacks during the film and this point)? But I guess I’ll close a blind eye to it hehe.

Overall stars: 4.5/5 ⭐️

If you’ve read till the end, I thank you sincerely with all my heart because this was hella long to type but I enjoyed doing so! Shang-Chi, you were such a pleasant ride and I hope to see more Asian (and POC) superheroes in the future of Marvel!

[wolfpawn]

When Ghosts Come For Us

Chapter 29

NOTE This is based on the movie Crimson Peak, so if any of the subject matter in that was uncomfortable for you, you will find this similar. I will *NOT* be describing incest in this, it will only be implied, same as the movie.

As I have stated already, my laptop is broken at present so please excuse grammar mistakes and the lack of GIFs and pics.

WARNING None. Also, I do not own any image or gif used in this story.

HERE is the link to Chapter 1 on Ao3

Rating - Mature

Charlotte's eyes widened as the reality of what happened hit her. 'Thomas?’

Thomas looked at Lucille whose eyes went from the needle in her arm along the arm holding it there before her eyes met his. 'No.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

Thomas felt the sting of the blade that had cut his shoulder as he defended Charlotte and Blake begin to ebb through his mind. 'I have to protect them, they are my family, Lucille. I'm sorry.’ There was genuine remorse in his voice but his eyes showed the sincerity of his words as he pressed down the plunger.

Angered by the official declaration by her brother regarding his allegiances to Charlotte and the baby over her, with her remaining strength, as the drugs began to kick in, Lucille grasped the letter opener tightly in her hand and went to strike Thomas in the throat with it.

Seeing what she was planning, Charlotte put herself between the blade and Thomas, gasping as the sharp object pierced her arm, grateful that Lucille's strength was first weakened by her time laying still and secondly by the use of the narcotics. It did not pierce far and to Charlotte, she had suffered far worse before. They watched as Lucille slumped into unconsciousness, neither saying anything to the other while she did so or for a few moments after.

‘Lottie?’ Thomas was the first to find his voice again. He took her arm to inspect it.

'I'm fine. What about you?’ She went to inspect his shoulder.

'Lottie, why did you step in, she could have hurt you.’

'She was going to kill you. She was aiming for your throat. I could not stand back and do nothing.’ She argued. She then turned to look at Blake, who was next to her. 'My little hero.’ She looked at the blood staining his chocolate coat darker. 'Where did she get you?’

'His ear, it seems just a small cut.’ Thomas inspected the area carefully, Blake eyeing him suspiciously as he did. 'I think I have broken his trust.’ As though on cue, Blake leant closer to Charlotte and the bump of her protruding stomach.

'He is confused. He will see soon that you are still you.’ She comforted before looking at him warily. 'You are still…’

Thomas looked at her, studying her studying him. 'I am still trying to ascertain what is happening.’

Charlotte nodded. 'I understand.’ She rose to her feet gingerly and rubbed her stomach. ‘I better get proper restraints. If she gets out now, she'll be a danger to you too.’ She stated as she walked out of the room.

Thomas watched her as she left before looking at Blake, the dog looked at him for a mere moment before following Charlotte. Alone with an unconscious Lucille, he assessed everything he just learned. When the thoughts of Charlotte admitting to knowing the past returned to him, he rose to his feet and followed after her, finding her in Lucille's room, readying the restraints. 'You knew, of it all? Of them?’

'The wives, yes.’ Charlotte did not look at him as she spoke.

'Before we wed?’

'Before we ever laid eyes on one another.’ She confirmed.

Thomas looked at her questioningly. 'And you still thought it a good idea to come here?’

'I did.’

'How much do you hate Lucille to think going to where she did these things to get her was a worthwhile risk? You are incredibly foolish. You could have been killed.’

'If you plan to have me regret it, I won't.’ She looked at him. 'I meant everything I said, Thomas. I love you with incredible intensity. I would do it all again tomorrow for you. I got you free of her. You are your own man now, free to do as you please and in doing so, you have rejuvenated the mines and rebuilt your name. You are an incredible person and a wonderful man.’ She smiled proudly.

'Was what you said true, of Cordelia?’

'Every word.’

'Your upbringing, her...her death?’

'None wishes more than I do that those were falsities but I have not such luxury. My parents are why I look like I do and my father getting her with child is what put her there.’

'I am so sorry, for what Lucille did.’

Charlotte smiled lovingly at him. 'It is not your crime to apologise for but thank you.’

'I...I do not know what to think. I fell in love with an overly kind and sweet woman, is that still you? Who are you?’

Charlotte bit her lips together. 'I knew the situation, that the charming man that feigned interest in me, was just that, I was never under any illusions, you thought differently.’

Thomas thought back to the beginning of it all, when she acted so innocent. 'Was it all a charade, how you act?’

'No. I like smiling and not thinking of what other people deem acceptable. It is their fault they associate happiness with being utterly silly. I played it up slightly, yes, but only because I learn more that way. People seem to think being silly equates to being deaf.’ She scoffed. 'I am essentially the same person. A little less dim, but I truly do love art and music and poetry. I adore our conversations and I genuinely was unhappy at not having you with me in Pembrokeshire.'

'Did you feign interest in my work?’ Thomas asked, clearly worrying about her response.

Charlotte's first reaction was to chuckle slightly. 'My dear Thomas, I have spoken to you for how many hours on the topic of your work, I have also initiated conversations on the matter, have I ever shown disinterest or boredom as we converse? Interest cannot be feigned for that length of time. I genuinely care about your work, I love speaking with you regarding it.' She smiled genuinely at him.  

'You are truly the only one to believe in me.’ Thomas stated. 'Lucille, everyone else, they scoffed or saw it as a foolish pastime but you...every time I made a development or when I had a setback, you are there with me.’

Charlotte smiled and walked over to him, cupping her hand to his cheek. 'I love you, that is what a wife who loves her husband does, she supports him, come glory or failure; though, for the latter, she should not allow him remain disheartened, she should encourage him to try again.’

'Why did you transfer the accounts?’ Thomas asked. 'You knew everything, yet you…’

'I made it we have equal right to it. That my signature was not required for you to access our money.’

'But why?’

‘It is a good thing I did, with regards the autumn and you remaining, my being so far away who be most inconvenient if you required any funding.’ She smiled before becoming serious once more. 'I told you, I wished to do it. I felt the love I feel is reciprocated. I believed it to be the right way to have things. As my husband, everything should naturally be yours too.’

'But you knew the truth.’

'I thought you to love me also. I hoped you did.’ She smiled lovingly at him. 'I think I was right.’

Thomas still felt conflicted and confused but continued to think over what was said over the past few minutes. He also considered the care and sheer effort that Charlotte had put into assisting with Lucille, the hours she spent looking after her tediously was something he noted, as well as recalling her comments regarding her doing it for him because he love his sister. 'And Dr Thompson? He...Did he really disown you?’

The heartbreak on her face showed the honesty of her statement regarding the doctor. 'It is more complicated as I am the legitimate child and he is not. But I had only him as natural family left and I love him dearly. He is my brother and he has always been there for me, especially after Cordelia, and now….now he wants nothing to do with me.’

'Does he know too?’

'Yes, that is why he is so angry regarding all of this.'

'And regarding me?’

‘He knows that Lucille was behind the most of it but your doing nothing makes you culpable to him.’

'How do you view it?’

'You did wrong, you allowed these women be harmed but you never wanted it. I saw the pictures, the ones of your marriages, you were clearly unhappy and the fact is, every death, you were complicit but not the murderer. I see you, the loving kind man behind it.’

'And that angers him, your brother?’

‘He sees me loving you and having your baby as betrayal, not only to him, but to Cordelia. Your sister murdered her and I carry a baby that shares that blood. But I can separate you from your sister and that is a large part this. He cannot.’

‘Do you regret it?’ Thomas asked.

'How can I? I love you so greatly and what mother can regret her child. I love you and I love our child who was created of our love, I cannot regret either of you.’

Thomas looked into her eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. He thought of her words. She chose him. She wanted the best for him. She encouraged him and she always ensured her words were encouraging and complimentary to him. He thought of their nights of passion, how she smiled and how she looked at him. Thomas was not a religious man, but he prayed her words were honest, that she loved him as he did her. His hand caressed her cheek, causing her to look him in the eye, a worry in hers. He leant forward and kissed her gently, her lips gently pressing back against his.

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@lokiloveheart @ilovekingt @texmexdarling @sigridlaufeyson @whovianwookie86-captainxev @lokilover9

[luwucas04]

About 4000 (I am so sorry) Words Concerning Films that Helped Define My Existence

Ah, movies. So much in one package. Story, music, visuals, what’s not to love? Today I shall be elaborating on the most noteworthy films in the thrilling ever-changing saga that continues to be my life. Screenplay alongside a screenplay, if you will (please take this statement as modestly as you can).

The first ever thing in my entire life that I remember being an avid and enthusiastic fan about was the original Star Wars saga, written and directed by George Lucas, spanning May 1977 (A New Hope) – May 2005 (Revenge of the Sith).

As mentioned in the podcast and as you may be able to tell from said podcast, I can’t really pinpoint an exact point in my life where I was introduced to it as it was kinda integrated into my upbringing from the get-go—and due to this it’s a very near and dear franchise to me. And oh boy fun fact my first ever childhood crush was Luke Skywalker (I vividly recall my uncle asking why I had his page bookmarked haha). I remember it was something that I would always watch with my dad and or grandpa, and then when I couldn’t find the VCR set that we had for it, I officially commenced my illicit streaming career (not really though, I didn’t get very far. Only crappy 20-minute clips on YouTube). Star Wars for me was the first thing that I actively sought out stuff for or showed genuine interest in pursuing if that makes sense. Like, you’d watch whatever movies or shows were thrown at you and you never thought much of them. Ohoho not Star Wars, though, that one lasted years. My cousin and I would always bring our little action figures to play with whenever we visited—or we’d find long-ish sticks in the backyard and have lightsaber fights, I got the video games, posters, Lego sets of ships (X-wing and Y-wing to be exact), an entire encyclopedia that I still own to this day (I just checked and there’s a date written inside, April 9th 2010 (which is my 7th birthday)), and of course inspiration for my own art and such. I remember I made this magazine that was essentially just me redrawing pages from the guidebook I had. I still have it, too! Sitting at the bottom of a drawer right now. Also, later on for some reason I absolutely loved drawing Ashoka Tano. Over and over again man. I drew her taking up my cousin’s entire driveway in chalk once.

Not only are the Star Wars films a nostalgic and comforting series, but it held onto its marvel throughout the. Wow well over 10 whole years, I’m getting old. Additionally, because at the time we didn’t have as much access to the things we can achieve with modern technology, I was basically all on my own with it. I fueled my own fascination. And shockingly, not a lot of people in my elementary school (up until maybe grade 6-7) showed much interest in it either. So it was pretty much just me myself and I, and occasionally my cousin whenever he visited, and I think that made it all the more special to me. Also, at the time I think it was geared way more toward kids. There weren’t series like The Mandalorian or active internet communities that were obsessed with the series as far as I was aware, so there wasn’t the same quantity of content nor overall enthusiasm around it. Nonetheless, it was and still is a very personal series due to how engrained it is into basically every aspect of my childhood. I’ll try not to be too repetitive with what I said in the podcast, but ultimately the clear nature of the franchise (attractive character designs, colours, setting in general (it’s an action-packed space adventure what’s not to love)) is what really made me latch onto it, and it kickstarted my interest in the very essence of media and understanding the film medium and what it has to offer. I remember asking how they got Jar Jar to exist on screen and he told me they made him out of CGI, and I interpreted that as they somehow made a real-life computer model out of him and that they were actually interacting with like a physical, solid hologram. Anyway, revisiting the franchise and diving into more of its intricacies now (like the production diaries) is like an absolute goldmine. There are so many aspects of it that 100% contributed to and nurtured my goals, passions, and ultimately who I am as a person. Here is some of my very recent art for good measure:

Up next up we got Lord of the Rings (dir. Peter Jackson, December 2001 – December 2003) or I guess a better way to put it would be those plus The Hobbit (December 2012 – December 2014) trilogy. I think it was earlier than the Marvel phase (which follows this section) because like Star Wars I can’t really remember my first viewing of it, but I definitely watched it all. It might’ve been around grade 3 so 2011-ish? Quick anecdote, one time I had a sleepover I was really excited for, and as we all know when you’re excited for something as a kid and it’s later on in the day, time doesn’t actually pass at all, and so my genius ass decided to flip on The Fellowship of the Ring and boom it was 5 pm and time to leave. Also my grandparents from my mom’s side of the family (they’re German so we call them oma and opa) were visiting once and my opa (grandpa equivalent) wanted to watch something so I was like “omg Lord of the Rings is perfect there are so many characters he can feel empowered by (Gandalf and Saruman because they’re old)”. Phenomenal logic—now thinking back it was probably much too violent for his tastes but yknow.

I love Lord of the Rings so much because it’s the true embodiment of an ideal fantasy story; there’s such pure character dynamics and personalities and Tolkien created such an incredibly solid world in which these stories take place. Man knew his stuff, and in turn provided a charming and utterly wonderful scape for young minds to roam free within. I was going to talk about this if I did my other culminating idea regarding masculinity within the media, but I have the perfect opportunity to do so here: something so great about said world is how sincere and genuine a lot of the male characters are (yknow minus people like Denethor and Alfred). Namely the fellowship, they all openly care for and are affectionate towards one another, something we rarely see between men both in modern media and in real life. Aragorn is a perfect example of someone owning and being comfortable in his masculinity. He is kind to and uplifts others, and communicates openly with them. He isn’t afraid of being intimate and vulnerable towards them, either. We see this in Boromir’s death scene. Aragorn doesn’t patronize him for trying to take the Ring, he consoles Boromir in his last moments and they treat each other with the utmost tenderness and respect—not callously or stiffly. Right after decapitating an orc, Aragorn is still able to run to his side, hold him, and kiss him on the forehead following his passing. Aragorn also isn’t afraid to share fame or glory, in fact he never seeks it out in the first place despite his lineage. It was at the battle of Helm’s Deep that he embraced that destine to be king, not out of lust for power, but because these people needed guidance and leadership and he could provide it for them. He elevates others in an incredibly positive and empowering way, especially Frodo and Éowyn, and is content with the fact that the story is not about him. Even at his own coronation, he directs every single person’s attention to the literal earth-saving feat that the hobbits have achieved in light of his own massive accomplishment. He is such a great role model to have been able to look up and aspire to be like, and I wish there were more characters and people like him.

I was a fan of those original films at an earlier point in my life, but the thing that brought that interest back a little stronger was undoubtedly the release of the Hobbit prequels. Like the Star Wars prequels, everyone can say what they want but they are very gorgeous to me. I skipped out on seeing Frozen with my class to go see The Desolation of Smaug with my dad and that was SUCH a good decision. Although, I’m rewatching them all now and Battle of the Five Armies kinda sucks at the beginning. They kill Smaug in like the first five minutes and like it wasn’t bad but it was very anticlimactic. I also don’t like how they shoved Legolas in there, his personality is really jaded and he’s kind of a big prick in those films. But it’s fine I love Martin Freeman and Richard Armitage and the rest of the dwarves the most. They were obviously the most significant and I like them a lot, and there are three movies as opposed to the one book so there’s even more content!

WHEW sorry about that anyway The Hobbit really was the revival/rekindling of that past love for Tolkien’s world. I also had a good close friend who was also along for the ride as well—being able to be into these things alongside someone is always fun and I’m grateful she was there and shared my same energy. She had the Lego game for that one, very similar free-roam concept as my Marvel one (coming up next), so we had lots of fun with that too. To reiterate, I am rewatching these movies again now as an older person with like an actual conscience, and my takeaway from them is vastly different on more of like… a philosophical level, I suppose. I appreciate the process of things more and the backstory behind Tolkien’s lore and the timeless characters and deeper meanings that he’s conceived. But that wouldn’t be very chronological of me to go into it here so moving on.

Proceeding next, around grade four at the most (so just after it came out), I watched The Avengers (dir. Joss Whedon, 2012). Not only did this single-handedly make my art convictions explode (in a good way), it also instigated my love for soundtracks (and also the entire Marvel universe but we’ll obviously be covering that very soon).

The Avengers was like an epiphany for me. Literally ground-breaking and earth-shattering. Changed my entire 10-year-old life. It was all that I ever wanted and more, and since it was around 2012-13 that I became aware of its existence, the internet community was blossoming with possibilities and content. That same friend liked it as well! My Avengers/Marvel phase definitely rivals my Star Wars phase; I think I watched The Avengers first, and then my dad was like “yeah ok you need to watch everything else now” and so henceforth Captain America and Iron Man and Thor. Those were very good times, and I actually remember experiencing all of them for the first time ever. The Christmas of 2013 was absolutely wild. I only got Marvel related gifts which was incredible at the time. My first ever ‘art of’ book was for the Avengers film, too! I also got an arc reactor shirt that actually lit up and I thought that was the absolute coolest thing ever, and then I remember I cut my tongue on this candy I was eating and my mouth bled profusely for a while. However the most iconic gift of all was my copy of Lego Marvel Superheroes for the PS3. I finished it in about 2 days, and it’s the only Lego game that I’ve gotten 100% completed progress on. I love that game dearly and still play it sometimes. The thing that I love specifically about it was the ability to free-roam the entirety of New York City as any character you wanted, me and that friend would do that exclusively for hours on end and make up our own stories with all the characters. Here is Galactus perusing the streets

Speaking of characters, this was the first thing that really got me making up and drawing a shit ton (apologies for lack of a better phrase) of original characters. I’d make superhero characters for me and my friend (ok I guess I should give her a name huh), Mackenzie, and even for random people in my class cause we needed to fill in some blanks in the stories we’d make. I’d create comics, write little stories, make variation after variation of these people we came up with, and of course like normal children me and Mackenzie would go to the park near my old house and pretend we were said characters. Man it was so fun. Then we’d do all those personality quizzes to find out which member you were most like. Mackenzie and I would do these quizzes on none other than our state-of-the-art BlackBerry playbooks. For me it was usually either Iron Man or Thor, and Mackenzie had this weird curse where she’d only ever get Loki as a result for anything at all which was very hilarious to me. Circling back to soundtracks, The Avengers OST was one of my first full album purchases. The main theme was my favourite track out of all of them for obvious reasons, but I still paid respects to all of them and listened to it often. Since I bought it with my dad’s Apple ID, it’d show up on the communal iPad that we used for music in the kitchen and I have full recollection of my grandpa playing it on blast in the morning to wake us up one time. I was aggravated at first but then when I realized what it was I was like ah yes of course. After the Avengers soundtrack, I got the Wolverine (2013) OST and that was fun but I didn’t like all the tracks in the same way, but THEN I got the Days of Future Past soundtrack. THAT is a good soundtrack AND a phenomenal film.

Anyway, after that I was a Marvel connoisseur for a little while. Like Star Wars I got an entire character encyclopedia, a bunch of comics, posters, you name it. My parents and sister also enjoyed dabbling in stuff too; we’d watch the animated series together on Netflix and eventually ended up seeing all the new movies together when they came out in theatres (except not my mom though cause she gets motion sickness from action films). Marvel was a staple in the adolescence stage of my life before I was introduced to anime (then it was all downhill from there (I am kidding anime was a part of my life that I look back at with great fondness)). It was reason for so much of what I explored with my art and my own imagination, and was one of my first experiences in what it was like to be a part of a fandom-esque community. There were also memes ripe for the picking when it came to Marvel; as one can assume I had no access to memes in kindergarten to grade 1 in the late 2000s. It was such a lovely and warm point in my life, something that established what kind of passion I really poured into something when I really liked it. And akin to Star Wars, there’s just so much to like about it. There’s so much to offer, an array of colourful characters and storylines—and of course, creative liberty when it came to superpowers and that whole narrative. The sky was literally the limit. Here is some of my ancient 2014 portraiture that I dug up for the sake of this assignment

Ok heads up we are now veering AWAY from childhood content and touching on a film that played a more personal part, namely during a very pivotal point, in my life. I picked up The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky, 1999) at a bookstore and read it at the speed of light; I was crying in my room on my bed by the time I finished it. I love how we see Charlie’s character change over the course of the novel, not only through what he describes or how he perceives things but his style of writing in general. Anyway, I wanted to read the novel first before I watched the movie (dir. Stephen Chbosky 2012), and I was pleasantly surprised by how accurate the movie is to the book (well duh the author directed it). I read/watched this right before I started high school, so I was kind of (but not really considering the built-up childhood trauma he has yikes) in the same position as the protagonist, Charlie, as he was starting out (minus a lot of the major aspects of his character and what he went/goes through (like drugs)). A lot of the things that he learns were really important takeaways for me before heading into that new chapter of life like he did.

Contrary to the title of the (I know it started out as a novel but I’m just gonna say film) film, you need to put yourself out there and advocate for yourself in life. It’s great to be a trustworthy individual whom everyone is vaguely aware of and likes, but you need to approach things with reason and make yourself known somehow. At the time, both before and during grade 9, and even still sometimes in the present (though I do it more deliberately now), I found myself just standing on the sidelines as life happened before me and I let it sweep me away without having any feet planted on the ground. It was like I wasn’t in control of it, and in turn I might’ve struggled in some areas more than I should have. I didn’t own anything, like I wasn’t totally present. Similar to Charlie, I was a person who’d always be there for others, someone people could talk to and confide in, and ultimately someone people truly enjoyed having around—which is pretty great. But I didn’t fully know my position or what I ultimately wanted in any of those situations. Don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for my entire freshman experience and I absolutely wouldn’t have wanted it any other way considering all personal circumstances, but with that foreknowledge of the importance of making a name for yourself, especially in high school, I think I was able to branch out with ease a bit more than I would have without it. I at least was aware of what was going on in that sense. That movie is really special to me because it ended up being a pseudo-mirror of my own experiences. Charlie’s English teacher, Bill, embraced his writing abilities and urged him to participate more, share his own thoughts, and express more of his personality by giving him books for extra reading. My first ever semester of Laurier did the exact same for me as Bill did for Charlie. It fostered my interests and intellectual abilities, and you guys constantly urged me and everyone else to go above and beyond what we were used to because you knew we could do it (even though I feel like I could’ve done a lot better on some things as my marks in grade 9 are a bit lower than I’d like them to be, but hey it was a time of adjustment and I did my best and that’s what matters). As a direct result of Laurier, I’m really lucky to have been surrounded by an amazing group of passionate students, a handful of which became my closest friends throughout high school, and that my very first teachers of the day were people who uplifted me and genuinely cared not only about furthering my academic work, but about my growth as a person.

Whew let’s wade out of the sap and get into some more energetic stuff!!! To tie off this recollection of my life through film the most recent and notable movie that impacted my life was, the one and only, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (dir. Peter Ramsey, Bob Persichetti, Rodney Rothman, 2018). Similar to The Desolation of Smaug and Frozen, I went with my dad to the cinema but parted ways with him to watch this movie by my lonesome (he went to the Aquaman theatre instead smh). Again, phenomenal choice. I talked about this in my grade 11 blog, but Spider-Verse is an absolute masterpiece in every way shape and form.

At the point I watched it, I knew what I wanted to generally do with my life (be part of the art industry) and the visuals of this movie alone were enough to make me want to elope with it and never see or talk to anyone ever again. It is such a gorgeous film. The way they strayed from the yucky 3D conventions norm—and there is literally no way they could’ve done the majority of what they did in that movie effectively if they did it live action. Or, they could definitely try and make an attempt, but it’d look like garbage. For example, a lot of the action scenes in general and also when they become abstracted like with the particle collider. 40-60 fps would not do that sense of movement justice at all. Too smooth. Not enough grit and personality.

Anyway, they also pioneered new animation techniques in mixing 2D and 3D, and explored a newer superhero trope where the main character’s own mundane life struggles are equally as important as him trying to sort things out with these new powers. It’s more of a battle between what Miles wants with his own personal life—new school, the friends he won’t be able to see because of said new school, owning his own abilities and adjusting to change. Then on top of that he’s met with all these alternate-dimension people that he has to work and be on par with. Aside from the art, I thought the overall message was every special: Miles learns through trial and tribulations, unsureness—and most importantly, failure. Confidence and optimism, in regard to what he thinks he can and can’t do, is vital. Amidst everything he is faced with, he starts out as just another kid who wants to be just another kid. But we all have something special inside us that we must choose to embrace if we want to truly flourish. We see him come to terms with the fact that he really is capable of greatness if he sets his mind to it—and that’s the main message: anyone can wear the mask. And can we talk about that soundtrack??? Not only the instrumentals, but the actual songs were great too! “Sunflower” and “What’s Up Danger”? Lovely and fitting. And back to the OST, the Prowler’s theme??? Shivers.

There is such a unique and beautiful vibe to this movie, and it’s inspired me in more ways than one. Aside from that nice motivational stuff, it also has recently played a tremendous part in developing my own art. All of the artists who worked on the film are people I immediately tried to find on social media so I could see more of their work. I purchased the art book, and even bought a 2D sequence illustration course provided by one of the art directors, Patrick O’Keefe. That course also came with the (digital) brushes he uses, and I’ve used them in pretty much every single one of my pieces since downloading them. This movie really showed me the possibilities of what could be achieved in the art industry, and it made me want to be a part of it so much more than I was before. I want to be involved in revolutionary visual achievements, and I want to develop characters and stories and worlds that are as interesting and loveable as the ones in Spider-Verse. (my stuff featured below)

So there you have it folks, 5 (five) of the most significant movies in my life relayed in a whopping just over 4000 words. I hope this has been enlightening for all you readers out there, perhaps you now have a better understanding of how I came to be personality/interest-wise, and I hope you can catch a glimpse of that same importance these pieces of media have in regard to me and my values.

[terranoctis]

Stories of 2019

I would like to say this piece is about the best pieces of media and literature that came out in 2019, but it isn’t. I know there’s a myriad of stories I consumed this year that originally came out in years prior. This post, really, is about the most memorable stories I consumed and experienced for different reasons. I’m mostly writing it as a retrospect of a year where I made it my goal to experience more stories to become a better writer.

Literature

- His Dark Materials, Books 1 & 2 (The Golden Compass & The Subtle Knife), by Phillip Pullman

I have long been curious about these books by Phillip Pullman. It was popular in my childhood, though not as much as other books my childhood companions read. Someone told me the premise of the series in a comical manner about how it wrote religion into the world, and that dialogue sold me long ago on reading the series. I didn’t get the chance, however, to read it until rather recently, at the tail-end of 2019. I rather value the fact that I read it as I was older. I would’ve loved it as a child, I’m certain of it, but there’s definitely a darker tone to it that I appreciate more as an adult. It makes me nostalgic for the story I’m writing in all the good ways. I admire Pullman’s writing as well. It should be noted the TV series adaptation of the books is rather solid, and one I’m enjoying currently. 

- The Poppy War, by R.F. Kuang

Surprise, surprise, another fantasy novel makes my list. I think however, that it is a rather amazing one in where it went with its main character. It is a long novel, but one that thoroughly develops the world it’s in and the path a protagonist can take to become both the hero and the enemy, for better or worse. By the end of the novel, I’m not certain that I can find that her actions are acceptable, though I understand her mindset into it all. And that’s what makes the story fascinating to me. I like to write about people, even the most troubled ones. War can be a horrifying monster to everyone it touches, combined with the obsessions of our own ambitions.

- The Priory of the Orange Tree, by Samantha Shannon

Well-written, and honestly a joy to read at times, my first novel from Samantha Shannon pleasantly surprised me when I learned that it tastefully wrote about a same-sex relationship between two women. That isn’t the main focus of the novel, however. Across the board, the protagonists of the stories consist of two strong women and two men who have much to do to keep order in their own lives and the world around them. It’s about differences in beliefs coming together in order to be a better good. There are so many threads and yet they tie together rather beautifully by the end. It’s a wonderfully crafted tale of high fantasy that I’d honestly love to see more of someday. 

Comics & Manga

- Monstress, by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

At the tail-end of 2018, I was starting to pick up some western comics, as I previously had only largely consumed Eastern-style manga and manhwas. One of the ones that grabbed me and kept me was Monstress, first for its beautiful, gorgeous artwork, and second for the fact of how it writes its main character. It’s dark, yet hauntingly beautiful, the world the comic takes place in. The story has some pacing issues, but even so, it was by far my favorite western comic I read this year.

- Paper Girls, by Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang

Saga was the series that kind of introduced me to the kind of brand of Western comics that I thought I would like, that stretched beyond superheroes. It was my favorite comic of 2018, and still arguably one of my favorites now. It made sense then, that I would read other comics by one of its creators. Paper Girls is a fun read, and also deals with time travel and the fates that we follow and create for ourselves. And I am a sucker for anything time travel.

- Yagate Kimi Ni Naru by Nakatani Nio

I’ll be honest. I read chapters of this prior to 2019, but as the series ended recently and I re-read the entire series from the beginning, this manga sincerely stole my heart again. As someone who has never been in touch with her feelings as much, to see someone understand how they felt about another and figure it out, especially in the context of friendship and between two girls, was a quiet experience that I loved and enjoyed. 

TV Shows

- Euphoria, from HBO

It honestly was the first show that came to mind for me about this year. It’s not my typical genre as an adult now, as it is a show about teenagers and their experiences. However, I think this is a show that definitely is for adults as well, more so than teenagers perhaps. Because, after all, we remember what it’s like to be that age. It’s about the mess people at that age in high school can be, as products of their environment and the upbringing they had. I watched it on a whim between episodes of the last season of Game of Thrones and enjoyed it far more. It’s a show about addiction, about desire, about abuse, about everything good and bad. It wrote so well the experiences of people from across the spectrum.

- The End of the F***ing World, from Netflix

I surprisingly liked this second season more than the last one. I think I liked it more because it goes more into depth about the mentality of each person. More than just diving into it, it went into how they are trying to mend it and address it. It’s still as charmingly amazing as it was the first season, with its sort of absurd dry humor.

- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, from Netflix (and Dreamworks Animation)

I never really expected how much I actually would enjoy this show when I first watched it on a whim in 2018. Even though I already knew back then how much I admired the characterization of Adora and Catra, it was just a small admiration. This admiration only grew and grew as the series progressed and started extending to the show’s writing in general. The series is written to be enjoyed by all ages, but there’s an underlying tonality to it that definitely calls to me as an adult, particularly in the case of Catra’s story. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s exactly that quirky nature and well-written dialogue that makes me think this will be a series that will be on my mind for a long time. 

- The Good Place, from NBC

This show is permanently on my list until it stops airing. It’s still just as good.

Movies

- The Theory of Everything (2014)

I went through a lot this year in my personal life, one of the situations being someone returning to my life that I never expected to speak to again. It brought me much perspective to see a film about persevering, understanding how time can be strange in its own ways, and how we make so much in this world for ourselves by just being with one another. I admire Stephen Hawking, for one, but the film brought a fictionalized story to life between him and Jane Hawking that I thought was honestly beautiful. And the heart of what made this film great was that relationship and bond through time. It was hopeful. The film made me remember why it was okay, that even after all these years, I still had something to be hopeful and grateful in all those years past. ...It’s also just a really beautifully shot film. That ending sequence had me near tears. 

- Parasite (2019)

I think if I had to choose one film to be my favorite of the entire year, it would be this film. There’s so much packed into it, but it’s beautifully, wonderfully done. It was personal on a bizarre level about social class and how the way we’re raised and the amount of money we have growing up affects who we become. It’s about inequality, about family, and so much. I can’t even find the right words to describe it because I think it’s a film everyone should watch.

- Marriage Story (2019) 

I can’t say that I’ve been through a divorce, but I’ve been through an emotional disconnect with someone that meant much to me. It’s why watching this film made me go through a rollercoaster that I could relate to. Even when relationships, friendships, or something in between end on a sour note, it doesn’t take away all your affections for them. Even if it doesn’t make sense, you still love them, no matter how much you bitterly want to hate them. And sometimes, relationships don’t just end because of some horrible end-all thing. Sometimes, it just doesn’t work out--and you have to live with that. And sometimes, you have to live with one another still, even if maybe you’d be better off being out of each other’s lives. The movie hit me on a personal note on many levels, and I think anyone who’s been in any sort of situation like that will feel the same watching the movie. 

- Knives Out (2019)

I would like to simply present Daniel Craig’s character talking about donut holes to explain why this is one of my favorite films this year. But really, it’s witty, it’s fun, and it feels relevant to the atmosphere we have in American society in modern times. It’s a whodunit mystery with a twist that in the end, and truthfully really isn’t about a murder at all, but rather about the people that make up a little of entitled society and the people who have to live with them. 

- Little Women (2019)

I sincerely loved Louisa May Alcott’s novel growing up, and had a wild amount of excitement for Greta Gerwig’s adaptation. I was not let down. It’s not a traditional take on the story, and yet it is. It changes up the timeline in a brilliant way, and moreover, does so much justice to Amy’s character and the way women have to live in that time period. It brings out more of Jo’s joy in writing and telling stories. It does a brilliant job of portraying Laurie’s relationship with Jo, as well as Amy. It’s a strong adaptation of a largely female tale that is also made relevant for modern times. I can also say that Florence Pugh did a phenomenal job as Amy.

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There are a number of other stories I consumed this year that I loved, such as Frozen II or Naomi Novik’s novels, but I can’t list them all. I hope 2020 continues to be a year of great stories for me. And I hope it is a year for me to better expand on my own stories. 

[pmart33]

Nothing is ever what is seems and as an adult I should know better even though each and every day is a learning experience but it takes a different kind of evil to crush your heart and stab you with hurts and actions should you never let the people who call you friend be the same ones to talk down to you or ridicule of your value and worth sometimes friends like that suffer more and will live with their misery. I’d rather have people in my life who are here to uplift me and force me to be better in life not for anyone but myself this world is full of cruel people and intentions there’s nothing worse than being in the middle of a family who trusts you enough to use your own words against you and claim to have ruined blood there’s nothing worse than having people who said loved you are have love for you crush you with their toxic corrupted evil thoughts because they can’t live with themselves and chose to manipulate each situation to their advantage I can never say again I trust anybody with my most inner deepest secrets or my inner deepest hurt and not my goals or ambition this world is meant to be lived alone and one day I had a feeling things were going to shatter before me because of the evil people hold against you because of your sincere heart and your willingliness to be truthful it’s hurts some people when you catch them in the act of doing wrong and try to confuse others as to if they are right but truthfully everyone is a piece of shit I need people to guide me to success and take me to higher extends of myself I want to be the greatest version of myself even if it means giving up everything I have to start over I wouldn’t mind it all it took me to farthest length to believe people who have seen me at my worst try to help me and then somehow use their tongue to destroy rather than heal I’m very anguished how friendships can end so quickly because there is no honesty and no foundation because of a corrupt upbringing I cannot ever fix a situation unless people learn to fix themselves and work on themselves all those things said about me are lies and are pure bullshit the one person I can say I trusted really went out here to spread lies and use them to backstab me and I’ve never been hurt 4 times in a row I hate to admit when you give time and energy for people be wise and test everyone some people take longer to understand and others it takes only a few days to really acknowledge the people who give there efforts with a clean heart sometime sthe quietest souls are deviously honest and the loud souls are trying to get attention in every corner they get because they just can’t live with themselves I lost everything and gained nothing and I can live with that because I have lost more than I can imagine and I’m prepared to loss it all even if it means I have to start from the bottom and get to the top and I know god has a Devine purpose for me I know now to never give people the same energy I can be giving myself or my parents this is an open opportunity to get to know my parents more and be present and stop being selfish to start giving my undivided attention to the people who truthfully have been here for me in the beginning my family and it’s unfortunate that god has been trying to teach me this lesson my whole life but we sometimes get side tracked by our selfishness and our stubbornness to want to prove ourselves to our family or to others because we want to seem we have it all together but I know now I cannot trust anybody with my hurts with my secrets with my inner dreams and ambitions there was no division only clarity because everything which is in the dark will come to light and god is perfect at giving me his best when I’m at my worst because it is no longer about me anymore it is about him and his divine purpose I dislike my position of emotions and mindstate but I’m grateful for what it took and the time it took in such short period for everything to display itself you only allow people so much to the length you give them there isn’t anything anybody can say or do to change my mind at this point

[wanderingwonderingwanderlust]

Three Tragedies of Tradition

Adelaide and I have spent our day skinny dipping in the Dead Sea. I can still picture us funnily floating around with a postcard-worthy backdrop hovering around the sunlit halo on our heads. The water has stilled to an empty mirror and Adelaide's face looks even more angelic than usual. We take a taxi to the closest town, Rame, because the buses stopped at 5 and we must hitch a ride for the hour drive back to Amman. Women certainly have no trouble finding rides, and in the first 30 seconds as we stand with intent in the dusty heat near the town center (which is really just a small convenience store), a handful of cars honk and start to pull over. We approach a truck but the way the men inside stare at us makes us uncomfortable so we listen to our internal voices and recoil, refusing their offer. Behind them another car pulls up with a single man inside. As we lean in towards his rolled down window and scan for signs of danger, he responds to us in fluent English. We trust our gut and slide inside, hoping the wind rushing in the windows will cool us down. He's an interesting character so we immerse him in all of the questions that ache our brains. To us, knowledge absorption is synonymous to travel. He speaks six languages, owns a souvenir shop and is unmarried in his mid-thirties. Adelaide eventually asks if he's been in love and he begins to unearth his story sounding as if it's not been dusted off by the harshness of words in ages. When he was 23 him and a woman from Chechnya fell for each other-- deeply. It was love. For three whole years her father refused their union because he was Jordanian. We ask why she didn't just go against her family for the sake of love. He says, "The pressure was too much, she eventually gave up. Fighting against her family wore her down". She ended up marrying a different man from her own country who her father approved of. "Would you have gone against your family if you were her?" we ask. His answer surprised me because, though he exhibited some western mentality he was still a rather traditional Muslim. Earlier he said he wanted a "classic" woman who would stay at home to cook and clean. "Yes, I would have gone against them." "Why?" He responds without hesitation. "It was love." Fayrouz's voice fills the car as Rashed drives under the star-filled night sky of the Jordan Valley which he loves so much and dedicates his life to protecting from the Israeli occupation. The conversation flows from his work to the inequality of women, from his serious car accident to Palestinian culture and the influence of family opinions on an individual's behavior. I eventually inquire about love and he becomes more somber. He stops glancing over at me in the unflattering beam of the small yellow-toned car light which has remained on since we used my cheap Jerusalem themed nail clipper slash bottle opener to free the caps from our Taybeh beers. As he tells me his story, his profile reveals nostalgia as he freshens his heart's wound with his words. Years ago he fell in love with a woman from Jordan who would visit often and, to his good fortune, she fell in love with him too. He tells me it was passionate, pure and real and that he tried for over a year to get her father to approve their marriage but he wouldn't budge. They had another man in mind for their daughter. She ended up marrying the other man and she has his children. I don't take my eyes off of him as he drives along the road close to the barbed wire Jordanian border. The vulnerability he feels is still magnetizing his eyes to the road instead of to mine. I already intuitively know, but I ask anyways to hear it out loud, "You still love her?" He turns his head and looks into my eyes. "Yes." We are playing with the curious black puppy from a cage in a pet store in the shade near the Roman Amphitheater; she's sniffing around in the dirt beyond hundreds of cigarette butts and bottle caps to find a chicken bone. A man dressed in a police uniform whose name tag reads "Yazeed" approaches me and Adelaide across the empty courtyard. The summer sun is seething; it's Ramadan and the giant court which rumbles with people at night is completely empty minus the occasional man strolling by with a black plastic bag. Because of how often we are hit on and how aggressively the grown and young men treat this dog we call Layla, we are hesitant to engage fully at first. But quickly I begin to uncover the mind of this gentle man who works as a tourist police officer. He's kind, honest and has a widened perspective on his own culture because of his interaction with tourists. He's scared of the dog, admitting he doesn't like them because his parents didn't but he would never harm them. It would be silly to let this be an inditement on his character as he's correct, it's a different upbringing and he's not at fault. He reveals his balanced perspectives and objective mind as we talk more and I find I'm grateful he respects my personal space and doesn't eat me with his eyes. We get on the topic of gender relations and when we find out he's unmarried we ask one of our favorite questions, "Have you ever been in love?" In his softer voice his face absolutely lights up as this Jordanian begins to tell us his love story. With a few breaks for our curious questions, we find out him and a Palestinian woman he called "Sue Sue" fell in love with each other at university when he was 23. My face reflects his as I'm glowing from the love he is showing for her still today in his smile which contains a few rotting teeth, a common sight here for even those with enough money. He was with her for years and I already sense why they didn't marry but I still ask. His smile evaporates as he casually says, "Yoni, it was her family. I tried, yoni. Her family didn't approve that I was Jordanian so she couldn't marry me." She married someone else her parents chose for her and now has his children. He's considered contacting her but doesn't want to risk anything for her safety. It was ten years ago but I could feel the love he still has for her in every word and movement his face made. I felt such sincere sympathy that something so ridiculous prevented their union and still causes him pain. I tell him that it's okay to still love her, even if it's just a corner of his heart and from a distance. He asks, "how did you know that?" "It's in your face."