#it plays on repeat in my head when I write anything emotionally charge between them

[kingdom-dance]

Oh, and these colors fade for you only Hold me, carry me slowly, my sunlight x

[beebrainedstudios]

Next up for the refs, Maxim! A complicated design for a complicated man. My opinions on Maxim went from love to hate to “I wish you knew what you were doing;” he’s a really fun character, especially with the context of the Steel Prince comics. That being said, just like with the Danes I’ll be including design notes and headcanons under the cut, which may include spoilers for the comics; ergo POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR STEEL PRINCE. You have been warned. Also, my writing got really small on this ref, so I recommend clicking the image if you want to read the ref notes.

Anyways, on to Maxim!

- First up, hair. Maxim has a multitude of locks that all vary in length; he grew them out after he took the throne and has barely cut them since. There’s no specific way Maxim likes his hair, as he’ll arrange it into various different styles depending on his mood. The gold rings are actually there to help with this process, as they allow him to move each lock individually with his magic when he’s putting it up. This variable ring structure has the added bonus of creating a cool rippling effect when his magic activates; when Maxim quite literally gets heated, his influence spreads to the rings and any other small metal objects in the area, allowing his locks to shift in the heated air in an effect Rhy jokingly refers to as a “solar flare.” Maxim’s mood can actually be gauged purely by how much his hair moves or how warm he is, which is a trait his family finds endearing even if he himself finds it mildly annoying- after all, it’s difficult to come off as calm and composed if everyone in your kingdom knows your hair will give away how ticked off you are.

- As for his outfit, I love the asymmetrical geometric aesthetic put forth in the comics for Red London royalty; naturally, I leaned hard into this aesthetic and then immediately hid it all behind overly-complicated armor. Maxim is a huge armor nerd- anything metal is his specialty, and he prides himself immensely on both his armor and his weapons. He got his armor early in his youth and fiercely maintained it throughout his life until he was as attached to it as Kell was to his coat; he likes to swap parts around from multiple sets to create new looks. This is considered light armor for Maxim- at minimum he’ll have his crown and breastplate on. It’s very rare to catch him without any gear, but on the rare occasion one does, they’ll find he has a very similar outfit to Rhy, especially from the waist down. Fun fact, both he and Rhy’s pants are based on fencing knickers (fencing uniform pants), since both myself and VE Schwab are fencers. 

- Maxim has many scars from his time at the Blood Coast, including two nasty ones on his brow and nose. He used to be rather embarrassed by them until he met Emira, who loved his scars as a part of him and told him so constantly. Now, like his armor, they are a source of pride.

- Speaking of pride, Maxim takes a lot of it in how he looks, especially with his hair, eyes, and clothes. As such, Rhy learned most of his knowledge about maintaining his appearance from his father; the only thing Maxim couldn’t contribute to was Rhy’s hair care, as that is something his son has more in common with his mother. Maxim often wakes himself up by doing his hair and picking out his jewelry in the mornings, and if he’s feeling particularly bold he may even slip on some golden eyeshadow or a flashier necklace. Maxim has never mistaken the value of appearances in how someone feels about themselves either; he is liberal with compliments in the palace both to family and staff, as he knows someone does their best work when they feel happiest in their skin. He takes particular care to comment on Kell’s coat and hair, as he knows his adopted son’s appearance is a point of self-contention that he doesn’t want to foster. 

- Maxim’s sword is like Kell’s coat; he carries it everywhere- even to social functions- and is unashamedly fond of it. It is essentially the larger version of the royal half-sword that Maxim can wield in either hand (he’s ambidextrous!) and can even change the style of; if he wishes for it to be a two-handed sword, he only has to stretch the grip with his magic. Maxim can heat it forge-hot without it melting; in this state it’s incredibly dangerous and can cut through almost anything. There are two easter eggs in the runes on the sword, if anyone wants to look close enough to find them!

- All of Maxim’s stuff is sun-themed as a half-callback to the Maresh symbol, which has given him the additional title of the “Molten Sun,” an affectionate term used by guards to refer to their commander-in-chief. Maxim is really close to his guards and treats them as extended family; after all, he used to be one of them. He knows most of them by name and is fiercely protective of them- anyone who tries to mess with his staff as a whole is due for a personal warning from the king to desist, which is best heeded if one doesn’t want to drink their meals for a week.

- As said on the ref, Maxim is big. He spends a lot of his free time training as a nervous habit, which regardless of effect on his psyche keeps him in tip-top shape at all times. He’s easily as tall as Holland and is one of the few people Kell must stand upright with to look in the eye. He’s also immensely strong; this man could probably bench-press three guards in full armor with Emira sitting on top. I’ve seen some people suggest Athos alone could win in a fight against him before- maybe its due to the state of my own design for said Dane (in summary, scrawny as heck), but the only way I can see that going down in a one-on-one confrontation is with Athos getting punted like an angry white football. Personal preference, I guess.

- Now for personality! Maxim is a lover and a fighter, beloved and seen by all in his kingdom as a ray of sunshine, especially after the stormy clouds of his father’s cold and strict reign. He is as kind as he is tall and spends a lot of his time helping citizens solve problems or simply drifting around the palace, ready to aide his staff in their jobs. He’s vibrant and animated, too; the palace is often stirred to life when the sun rises by Maxim’s “quiet” singing as he heads towards the kitchens. Little does everyone know, behind that cheery and loving facade is an incredibly calculating individual. Maxim was born and raised only to be the perfect war king by his father Nokil with little personal care or respect for Maxim’s wishes, and though Maxim vowed to never be like him, some of Nokil’s parenting still unfortunately rubbed off. Maxim is always watching for threats and prepping for battle, mentally, physically, and otherwise; a threat to him or his kingdom is constantly around the corner, as far as he’s concerned. He must have a plan at all times or else he gets anxious and defensive, and if he’s backed into a corner, he’ll choose a risky course of action over no action at all (ergo, the Osaron fight). Maxim may be deeply loving, but he can’t help but see people’s worth to the kingdom first; when he’s feeling stressed it takes real effort for him to step back and see people as people instead of pawns he’s trying to get across the board.

- As far as hobbies go, Maxim doesn’t spend much of his free time on himself; he’s a full-time father, king, and husband, which leaves little room for downtime. Most of what he has left over he devotes to training, courtesy of his father’s horrible “kingdom-first” mindset that has still scars his adulthood. Still, Maxim does have a few interests he fosters; he loves cartography (a trait he shares with Kell) and likes to make his own maps by hand. He also loves chess, music, and gem/metal geology- if Emira wasn’t already in charge of the kingdom’s finances Maxim would have spent it all on new gemstone inlays or gold decorations. He’s still a fun-loving man, even if he doesn’t know how to spend much time on himself.

- Maxim is a very caring father and husband; he loves his family to bits and is completely devoted to them, even if he sometimes royally slips up when things get difficult. He and Emira both believe in equally sharing parental duties, so he spent a good chunk of his time when Kell and Rhy were growing right beside them, guiding them along. Contrary to what one may think, Maxim was the parent Kell was always closest to; they could often be found together in the map room, Kell watching with fascination as Maxim carefully traced the lines of landmarks and geographical features, switching his quill between hands when one grew too tired. Meanwhile, when Rhy wanted to hang out with his father, they both would spar with wooden swords or play games like hide-and-seek or chess together. It was only due to Maxim’s own poor father that Maxim was unable to properly communicate with Kell post-ADSOM; he simply assumed a little distance would do them both good, unaware that he was both continuing a cycle of neglect by repeating his father’s mistake and giving Kell the one thing he didn’t need (for those who don’t know, Nokil- Maxim’s dad- sent Maxim to the most dangerous part of the empire, the Blood Coast, because Maxim disobeyed him. Maxim emotionally did something very similar in AGOS by treating Kell coldly). Nonetheless, Maxim never stopped considering Kell a son and recognized his mistake; unfortunately, by the time he saw his error in the cells, he was in too deep to give Kell the freedom he needed and Kell was too angry to try and compromise until circumstances were more favorable. Maxim also never stood up for Kell against Emira; between his wife and his son, he always assumed Kell was the stronger of the two and would eventually stand up for himself. This, as we all know, turned out to be false, and Maxim regretted it for the rest of his life that he never tried to talk to Emira about her treatment of the second son of the Maresh family. 

So yeah, sorry for the long wall of text! I really like Maxim as a character (even if I acknowledge he struggles badly as a parent) so I wanted to give him more depth and a design worthy of his complexity. I hope you enjoyed it; if anyone has any questions or comments I’d love to hear them!

[quentinblack]

The Squib

Featuring: Gawain Robards & Walden Macnair (with Harry Potter, Rhea Savage and Femi Wakanda)

Warnings: Swearing, Mature content

Link to full story on FF.net

Walden Macnair looked absolutely terrible. He was about as broken a man as a man could be. The Death Eater sat, if you could call what his broken back was allowing him to do sitting, in a hastily erected bean bag on the marble floor of the interrogation room.

The bean bag had been the only thing that Macnair had been able to sit in or on without screaming in agony for the best part of a week - and judging by the look on his face he was now about as broken mentally as he was physically.

An eager looking Gawain Robards sat opposite him in a fairly comfortable looking oak and leather chair. The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement aimlessly fiddled with his quill as he studied the notes in the pieces of parchment on the table in-front of him.

Robards was the only one who was on the interrogation side of the chamber with Macnair. Harry, along with Rhea Savage and Femi Wakanda, the pair of whom had spent the most amount of time interrogating the Death Eater in the last fortnight, were behind the charm-field section on the other side of the room.

The charm-field, which Harry had discovered was a quintessential feature of almost all interrogation chambers, allowed for other Ministry agents to watch an interrogation without the suspect being able to see or hear their presence.

They were actually very reminiscent of the sort of glass-mirrored screens that Harry had once seen on old repeats of ‘The Bill’, a police-detective program which regularly aired on the muggle television. He had often watched that and another similar detective show called ‘A Touch of Frost’ on the few occasions that the Dursley’s had gone out for the day and left him to his own devices.

A common theme of those sorts of programmes was the “good cop, bad cop” routine, where one detective would aggressively interrogate the suspect, whilst the other would be somewhat kinder. Harry was not quite sure on the exact phycology of this method, but it seemed to work for the fictional police officers.

It was fairly safe to say that Gawain Robards liked to take an altogether different approach to his questioning.

His approach was less “good cop, bad cop” and more just plain old “bad cop, bad cop”.  

“I always thought you did lack a spine, Walden,” Robards said sarcastically. “Life imitating art I suppose,” he added with a smile, enjoying his own witty remark considerably more than anybody else watching on had seemed to.

Macnair said nothing. He merely glared at Robards with an intense look of fury and pain on his scarred and slightly wrinkled face.

“I’m sure that Savage and Wakanda have already informed you of the considerable case The Ministry has against you, Walden. The charges that landed you into Azkaban several years ago in the first place were not too pretty, but since then you broke out of prison, continuously colluded with The Dark Lord, played a crucial role in the illegal international transportation of many murderous giants and of course, most notably, are the prime suspect in the murder of Broderick Bode. Do you have anything to say in your defence?”

“No comment,” Macnair spat.

Robards grinned nonchalantly.

“As I have said, the charges levelled against you, much like the state of your back, are not pretty. However, any cooperation on your part that may lead to the arrest of one of your comrades will of course be heavily considered when you are sentenced.”

Macnair rolled his eyes in disgust.

“You want me to betray my friends like some kind of traitor…and for what? A couple of years shaved off of a life sentence?! I’m not fucking stupid, Gawain. I know that I don’t know enough to receive a get out of jail free card like some of the others might. Sure, I could sell out Selwyn to you, but you won’t drop all of the charges against me even if you did manage to make an arrest. I’d sooner take my chances on him and the others that got away doing some damage and breaking us all out of here.”

Robards sighed heavily.

“You really think that a handful of stragglers are gonna manage to do some damage to us and break you all out?!” he asked in an incredulous manner.

“I don’t see why not! You would be incredibly naïve to write them off,” Macnair snapped back defiantly. “Judging by how emotional your little bitch has been in the last few days… I expect they already have done some damage!”

Savage swore under her breath next to Harry, as Wakanda, who towered over the both of them in her leather heeled boots groaned.

“I warned you, Savage. I told you that you were emotionally compromised. You should have listened to me when I-

Savage loudly shushed Wakanda as Robards began to speak once more.

“You know, Macnair. I think you’re the one who is being incredibly naïve,” Robards said. “You talk about bargaining to get a couple of years off of your life sentence… I don’t recall saying anything about a life sentence. The act of murdering an unspeakable is a crime that has historically carried only one possible sentence… and it is not life, but death.”

Macnair eyed Robards with a slight sense of caution, but Harry observed that he did not truly yet seem to believe what Gawain was suggesting.

“You won’t execute any of us,” Macnair attested in an arrogant tone. “The Ministry hasn’t executed anyone in decades. Barty Crouch liked to make out that he was tough on crime at the end of the last war, but even that silly old shit never sentenced Dolohov, Black or the Lestranges to death… and they committed the worst crimes of all.”

Savage stole a glance at Harry when Macnair mentioned Sirius.

It had been just three days prior, on the same day that Hagrid had received a pardon of his own that Kingsley had also posthumously cleared Sirius of all charges against him.

Harry was very glad indeed that Barty Crouch had never sentenced Sirius to death, for if he had then Harry would’ve never even met his Godfather for the fleeting few years that he did.

Robards glared at Macnair with something between contempt and pity in his eyes.

“Do you know why Dolohov, Black and the Lestrange trio were never sentenced to death for their despicable crimes?” Robards asked in an irritated tone.

“Everyone knows why,” Macnair replied confidently. “Barty Crouch believed that a life-time of the Dementors was a much harsher sentence than a killing curse, although I guess he never banked on The Dark Lord returning to power and setting everyone free.”

Robards chuckled to himself and violently shook his head at Macnair.

“The only thing he never banked on was his son falling in with The Dark Lord. Allow me to let you in on an age-old Ministry secret, Macnair. Barty Crouch was full of shit. He never believed any of that bollocks about life sentences being the harshest sentence once could suffer, although I’m sure he said it enough times that even he might have believed it in the end.”

Robards rose to his feet and wandered over towards a fearful looking Macnair, who could do nothing but look up at the head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement as he towered over him.

“Dolohov and Black were never meant to have life sentences. They were both in line for the death penalty – and they would’ve gotten it too, if Barty’s own bloody son hadn’t have winded up getting caught torturing the Longbottoms with the Lestranges. That left old Barty with quite the predicament. He couldn’t execute Dolohov, Black and the Lestranges but spare his son – the cries of bias would’ve finished his career. But he couldn’t execute his son either, as that would’ve finished his marriage. So we got the compromise option. It all worked out very well for The Dark Lord and his cronies, probably the only reason why you recruited the useless little fucker in the first place!”

Macnair said nothing. He re-positioned himself slightly, trying not to make eye contact with Robards and swearing under his breath in pain as he did so.

Harry trembled slightly at his new-found knowledge that Sirius may been sentenced to death if not for Barty Crouch Jr’s turn to the dark side. It was hardly a glowing endorsement of capital punishment.

“The mood of the public is one of finality, Macnair. They want some closure. They want some justice – and unlike Barty Crouch, as you well know, I do not have a child in the docks awaiting sentencing-

“You don’t have a child full-stop,” Macnair spat.

“Oh, Merlin,” Wakanda sighed under her breath, as Savage swore violently.

An enraged Gawain Robards instantly pelted the defenceless Macnair square in the head. The connection of his shoe to the Death Eater’s nose saw it break on impact, making a loud crunch and crack in the process.

Blood began to trickle down Macnair’s face and onto the cream coloured bean-bag, as he cried out in pain at the abrasive movement this had caused his injured neck and back.

Harry looked on in utter bewilderment at what had just happened, as Wakanda exhaled loudly.

Savage turned to him with a saddened look awash her pale face.

“Gawain’s daughter,” she whispered. “She… she died when she was only seven years old… dragon pox.”

Harry suddenly understood Robards’ extreme reaction and wondered if Macnair had known, judging by the look on Savage’s face he assumed that he probably had.

Robards began to pace frantically in-front of Macnair, as Wakanda eyed her boss with great caution and concern, perhaps fearing any further retaliation, although he seemed to have calmed down a little.

“You know actually Walden, I’m glad that you want to talk about family,” Robards said with an evil looking grin. “Savage and Wakanda took the liberty of informing me last week that you didn’t actually want to speak to or see any of your family at all. I must confess, given your reputation years ago at the Ministry as a devoted family man, I considered this development to be, well, strange.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Macnair replied, to which Robards grinned with glee.

“I’m sure you remember your wife used to be quite close to mine once upon a time, so naturally I felt given the circumstances it would be my duty of care to reach out to Cara and make sure-

“You shut your filthy mouth, Gawain! Don’t you dare talk to my fuckin-

Robards motioned to punt Macnair in the head once more, but he had only pretended, which nonetheless still caused Macnair significant pain as he had flinched when reacting to the expectant kick.

Macnair tried to spit at Robards, but due to his hunched posture he succeeded only in spitting on himself.

“Oh, but I did dare to talk to her, Walden!” Robards jibed. “And I’m very glad that I did. Cara was most forthcoming about the issues in your broken marriage… and it all seemed to stem back to one thing…

“Don’t you fucking-

“The Squib daughter of a Death Eater,” Gawain mocked triumphantly, as Macnair looked shattered at Robards having discovered this revelation.

Harry noticed that there was a different kind of pain on the Death Eater’s face at this divulgence though. It was not one of discomfort or anger, but rather, for the first time Harry saw vulnerability in Walden Macnair’s eyes.

“The way Cara tells it, most of the blame falls at your feet, Walden. She thinks that little Niamh was so embarrassed when her Father got sent to Azkaban for being a Death Eater that she started repressing her magical abilities, so much so that she never actually has shown any magical abilities.”

Macnair, defeated, said nothing at this point. Harry watched the blood trickle down the pathetic looking man’s nose. He was no longer even bothering to wipe it on the dirty sleeve of his jumper like he had been previously.

“What was your plan if You Know Who wasn’t defeated, Walden? Wouldn’t it look a bit suspicious when your daughter didn’t get a Hogwarts letter this year?” he asked, more rhetorically than literally.

Harry felt his boss was perhaps pushing too far now, but either Robards didn’t sense Macnair’s agony or did and was merely trying to use it to his advantage.

Gawain now retrieved a piece of parchment from his desk and unravelled it.

“Do you know what this is, Walden?” Robards grilled, as he flashed the piece of parchment in-front of the captive.

Macnair remained silent.

“I’ll tell you what this is… written by Dolores Umbridge no less… this… this is what The Ministry’s official policy on Squibs was under your exalted leader’s control… and I quote…” he began, taking an exaggerated deep breath, which seemed more for show than any sort of respiratory benefit.

“The Ministry of Magic defines a Squib as a person whom is born with the assumption of possessing magical blood, yet possesses either extremely limited magical abilities, or indeed, is entirely devoid of any magical ability whatsoever. The primary cause of the birthing of Squibs is believed to be caused by the Mother fornicating, whether wilfully or against her will, with either muggles or mud-bloods - it is also a possibility that the Father may have falsified their own family history, thereby concealing their un-pure blood from the pure-blood witch who birthed the defected child. Either of these crimes, whereby a deformity such as a Squib is created, are punishable to the guilty party only by the Dementor’s Kiss.”

Macnair did not look up at Robards, instead much preferring to look at the floor, perhaps in the desperate hope that it would open up and swallow him whole.

“Alternatively, in cases where Squibs have previously shown some kind of magical ability at a younger age, but have since lost the ability, it is believed that their magic was stolen from them. There are many mud-bloods that defy the conventions of logic and biology by possessing magical abilities without magical blood – and this fairly modern phenomenon is believed to be caused by the mud-blood stealing magic from magic-users, i.e – Squibs. It is thought that the most common method of magical theft is achieved through fornicating, but research has also shown that a muggle may achieve the theft of magic by stealing the blood of a witch or wizard. The crime of allowing a muggle to steal one’s magical blood, even if the muggle somehow achieved this by force, is a crime that is once again punishable only by the Dementor’s Kiss.”

Robards finished reading and discarded the parchment onto the floor in-front of Macnair.

“You’re clinging onto an ideology that would’ve seen your only child suffer a fate worse than death, Walden!” he shouted incredulously.

Macnair looked considerably defeated at this point, but did not seem to be rising to Robards’ bait.

“You refuse to sell-out Selwyn and Travers and Co, but would they have stood in your corner when The Dark Lord came to take Niamh away and give her to the Dementors?” Robards asked in a disgusted sounding tone.

Macnair tried his best to hide it, but he had become increasingly uncomfortable and significantly more distressed since Robards began talking about his estranged daughter. He had flinched momentarily at the mere mention of her name again. Harry was not sure if Robards, Savage or Wakanda had spotted it, but he certainly had.

Robards continued probing and taunting Macnair for a further fifteen minutes, but no matter what was said to him he failed to take the bait and showed absolutely no intention of co-operating.

The only time his eyes ever truly showed signs of fight or life where when Robards mentioned his daughter, but Harry supposed that there was nothing they had to tempt Macnair to sell-out Selwyn or any of the others.

Robards was offering Macnair the chance to avoid being sentenced to death and merely see out a life sentence instead, but the Death Eater had previously assumed he was seeing out a life sentence anyway, so this must have barely seemed like an upgrade to him – perhaps the prospect of a quick exit even somewhat appealed to him in his broken state.

What they really needed to get Macnair to talk was something to truly tempt him.

“He’s a lost cause,” Wakanda commented to Savage and Harry after Robards had been at him for another quarter of an hour after that.

“If he was going to talk then he would have by now. I thought the reminder of his daughter might push him to it, but it looks like the prospect of dying and never seeing her grow up isn’t even enough for the sicko.”

“He does care about her,” Savage quipped back in a knowing fashion. It seemed Harry had not been alone in noticing Macnair’s body language when his daughter was mentioned.

“But she’ll grow up to be a Squib,” the Head Auror continued. “She’ll be an outcast and he knows both his daughter and his wife will always blame him for it… maybe he’d rather die than live with himself knowing he caused that.”

“Perhaps,” Wakanda conceded in an irritated tone, as the three of them watched on as a slightly exasperated looking Robards continued to interrogate him. “But all the same… if he won’t talk, he won’t talk.”

“What if we gave him a reason to talk,” Harry said, as an incredibly bold idea suddenly popped into his head.

“I’m all ears, Potter,” Savage replied. “What would you suggest?” she asked, as Wakanda eyed Harry with a slight look of bewilderment.

“Well the thing that is upsetting him the most is that his daughter will grow up to be an outcast and hate him, right?”

“Right,” Wakanda and Savage replied almost in unison, surprising themselves in doing so.  

“What if she didn’t have to be an outcast?”

“But she’s a Squib… how could she not be an outcast?” Wakanda replied, not cottoning on to what Harry had been suggesting at all.

Savage eyed him very carefully, perhaps pondering what she thought he may be implying.

“But don’t you see?” Harry began. “That legislation that Robards read out earlier about Squibs. They weren’t treated that badly before Voldemort was in power…”

Harry paused briefly as Savage and especially Wakanda reacted wildly to Harry so openly and boldly using Voldemort’s name. He forgot that people reacted that way to it and he thought it seemed especially silly since he was now long dead.

“… but even in civilised wizarding society they seem to be largely outcasts,” Harry continued. “I think the one thing that would make Macnair talk and lead us to Selwyn and the others is if he knew by talking he could stop his daughter from becoming an outcast.”

“But again, Potter, what exactly are you proposing we do? Send an owl to Minerva McGonagall and ask her to send an acceptance letter to Macnair’s Squib daughter if he talks?!” Wakanda asked in a condescending manner.

Harry did not reply instantly, but Savage again eyed him up cautiously.

“I think that’s exactly what he’s proposing,” Rhea said carefully, as she appeared to begin to contemplate the idea.

Wakanda looked mortified.

“But - but you can’t be serious,” the mature witch began.  “The implications – the mere idea of a Squib attend-

“Robards said that her Mother believes she repressed her magical abilities,” Harry interrupted. “If she was put in an environment with other children and felt confident and accepted for who she was then she might even develop some magical abilities.”

“And if she didn’t?!” Wakanda interrogated.

Harry’s mind darted into action as he tried to think on his feet and justify his reasoning to the older witch.

“Well, you don’t use magic in every subject at Hogwarts,” he mustered. “Potions… Herbology, erm…

“Divination,” Savage added. “Astronomy and History of Magic too, I guess even Care of Magical Creatures and…

“Arithmancy and Ancient Runes… oh and Muggle Studies too,” Harry quickly interspersed.

“You can’t seriously be entertaining this idea, Rhea,” Wakanda mocked.

“Do you have any better ideas?!” she snapped back. “This is all hypothetical regardless. There’s no guarantee that Macnair would talk even if we offered this to him, but yes, I think it’s certainly an avenue worth exploring.”

Wakanda tutted and then sighed dismissively.

“Good luck selling this idea to Gawain,” she snickered.

“Gawain won’t be a problem,” Savage replied confidently. “It’s Minerva McGonagall that I’m worried about.”

Savage smiled and then suddenly slapped Harry on the back affectionately.

“It’s a good thing we’ve got Potter here for that one,” she grinned, as she stared thoughtfully at Macnair through the charm-field.

[fy-2pm]

2PM’s Wooyoung GQ Korea Interview English Translation

2PM Jang Wooyoung said, “I have been living like crazy”

Wooyoung who has live hard, knows how to be quiet. That’s why he is smart and tough like hot half heated steel.

Q: You are doing a lot of monitoring while photo shooting. Is there any change before and after the army?

W: My face didn’t change much. It’s actually amazing how I am able to do a photo shoot so soon after I came back from the army.

Q: I am sure there are more things you wanted to do.

W: My mind is unstable when I have a break. What are going to do? How should I live? All kinds of thoughts came into my mind. In order not to waste time, I started writing down my thoughts. At first, there were lots of things that were embarrassing to me but slowly, it got better. In addition, I looked back to my relationships and how I lived. I thought about how I lived so that I won’t repeat my mistakes.

Q: I can feel how determine you are.

W: In the army, there were many friends who are younger than me. When I asked them about their concerns, they usually replied, “You have done it already. So you don’t know how we feel” We may have different start off but our fear to start something new is the same. To be honest, I was more scared when I started to run for my dream at 17, 20.

Q: At 32 years old, what do you think is the advantage?

W: For teenagers, no matter how you spend your twenty, I think you are given a chance to live with a better life. You can say you have grown up and you can look back to your past experiences and mistakes to become a more steadily and better than before. Adding in your spirit from the twenties, you will love it.

Q: What kind of person is Jang Wooyoung in his twenties?

W: It was filled in so quickly and I was so busy pouring out as it was filled.

Q: It’s a job where you have to keep showing more to the public. You have been working hard.

W: My twenties can be divided into first and second half with five years intervals. Since debut, I have been working really hard. At that time, we always used the term “Murder schedule” a lot and by its name, it wasn’t wrong at all. Thanks to the busy workload. When will I ever get a chance to work like that? I gained a lot of strength and money for all my efforts. However, when I turned 25, I got confused. I wasn’t living in my life. I thought about quitting and moving back to Busan, my hometown.

Q: But it didn’t happen.

W: There’s only one thing that proved my existence and it gave me determination, “I am a member of 2PM. Do not betray 2PM.” But from then on, the meaning of “Let’s work hard” has changed. I want to play hard, meet a lot of people, and learn how to paint and many other things without harming anyone. I want to feel and experiences as much as I can to wake up my inner senses. I have been living like crazy.

Q: You expressed your feelings in the song “I Like” in your second album? In the lyrics, “I am curious and want to know about everything in this world.”

W: That’s right. It’s an emotionally affectionate song but then, every time I listen to it again, I laughed. I thought if I should have been too honest when I wrote the song lyrics. On the other hand, I actually feel sorry for Jang Wooyoung back then.

Q: These days, what makes you feel curious?

W: Good ways to do my laundry. Haha.

Q: I saw in the video interview that you are into laundry.

W: I am trying to improve my living skills. I am going to do the laundry by myself without any help.

Q: 5 years after the release of 2PM’s ‘My House’, are you curious as to why there is a sudden regain in popularity?

W: I am really grateful for it. This is what I think. It’s not like 2PM didn’t do anything to regain the popularity. At the beginning, we were just men in our early twenties performing real difficult stage performances. We danced, sang and did acrobatics. Then as we started to lose some energy, we did some straightforward love songs. We started to go into sad love songs and started to talk about love with our eyes. Then we reached “My House”. In a natural way, we were like children finally grew up and became mature great lovers. There was a comment which I saw that said, “I am a fan now, I am sorry” I think people are finally realizing what 2PM was doing. I am really thankful for that.

Q: 13 years after your debut, how does it feel to have people who just got to know about 2PM?

W: Of course, they can do that. The trend and flow in the industry goes really fast. It takes a lot of effort to grab people’s attention from all the competition. All the sudden, we regained the spotlight with “My House”. Also, it is during our hiatus, I think this is a miracle.

Q: Instead of “My House”, if you are to sing it again, which song some into your mind?

W: I want to sing “Without U” with all my energy. Ten years ago, I am in charge if the “crying out loud” part of the song but there was a problem with my vocal cord in the performance. My condition wasn’t good so I need to do a lip sync for that part. It’s shame that I couldn’t sing it properly on the stage.

Q: 2PM has reached the top of the industry and got recognized for their skills. What’s their position in Korea?

W: Well, I can’t think of anything other than the words, ‘Korean Idols’. During the journey, not everything has been smooth sailing but I feel proud (of being a Korean idol).

Q: I heard that the group name means the hottest time of the day at 2:00 in the afternoon. When was Jang Wooyoung the hottest?

W: In 2013, we performed in Germany for the celebration of the 130th anniversary between the relation of Korea and Germany. I saw senior Lee Mi Ja and was surprised by her rehearsal performance. It was so lively and amazing. Looking at myself, I am still struggling hard to sing well. I have no choice but to tell myself, “Jang Wooyoung, have some faith and work hard.”

Q: Your personality seems to be the kind that want to learn things by facing it yourself? I heard that you went to visit Choi Baek Ho who you have never met and wanted to talk about music after watching a documentary.

W: This was when I was having my puberty in my twenties. After watching senior Choi Baek Ho’s documentary, I was comforted by him. However, my frustration didn’t go away. So I got his number and called him because I want to know how he did music for such long time. The first time I met him, he said to me, “The more I live, the better it will be. Just like the songs that were sang in my 40s were more beautiful than when I sang in my 30s. They are heading towards perfection “The moment I hear this, it was like a direct bullet shot.

Q: In a way, there can be occasions where you would give advice to someone in a similar situation. Do you have any experience with that?

W: There were some juniors who I danced with in Busan, where they were dreaming about debuting one day. Maybe I have being selfish. Since my debut, I haven’t really talk to them about it in a hopeful way. When I passed my audition with JYPE, I asked my sister if I should give it up while crying. I really don’t want them to suffer like I did. I had a hard time with my body and mind. However, I have changed my mind now. If you are really desperate for your dream and have the confident to fight within yourself, then go for it. But you will be very exhausted, so I am telling you to think carefully about it.

Q: They say that you really insisted on auditioning with JYPE. Can you still remember when you first won the open audition?

W: I think it was my 6th audition. If I fail again, I will just keep trying. Sometimes, I will go back and look at the videos back then but it is both good and sad. I looked really tired on the screen. If only I could take a step back and see the reality, I would have been a much stronger kid.

Q: What did you do very well in your life?

W: When I am dating, I never measure or calculate in the relationship. I like her so much that I don’t take notice of what’s going on around me and then I suffered a lot of pain when we broke up. I regretted it and I know it wasn’t good way to date but I couldn’t help it. However, that experience formed who I am now so I don’t regret it anymore.

Q: How important is love in your life?

W: If people are consider as number one, then love is number zero. It’s such a vague concept and I have difficulty expressing love properly. However, I do feel love through people.

Q: In 3 days, it will be your birthday. By imagination, is there a happy gift for yourself?

W: While I was in the army, our company moved buildings. The building is now bigger and the facilities are better. The practice rooms are really nice, too. It would be nice if I can have my own space where I can practice dancing all day without concerns. Really.

Q: Let’s appeal. How much do you think 2PM has contributed to the new JYPE’s building?

W: I think it is quite a bit. It’s a 9 storey building, so maybe about 4.5 storeys?

Credits and English translation @jlml718

[imfallingdown-icantwakeup]

Master Mirror

Fishmonger’s Daughter Chap 4

Word count: 5793

A/N: So I couldn’t find a place to stop? So I didn’t and it’s horrifically long. Um, yeah. Hope you enjoy!!!

Warning: Panic attack(It that’s a trigger for you)

1 2 3

Taglist:

@chipster-21 , @a-banana-for-your-thoughts @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @cthylla-rlyeh 

“The fairer sex they often call them: But her love is as unfair as a crook: It steals all my reason, commits every treason, of logic: With nothing but a look-” Jaskier strums the lute gracefully as he sits squished between us, staring down at the leather bound journal balancing precariously on his knee closest to my shoulder. I level it with a touch of my finger out of habit, spreading my thumb and forefinger over the top as I lift it slightly off his knee and closer to his face while I continue to stare into the yellow-like flames. “A storm breaking on the horizon: Of longing and heartache and lust,” My eyes flicker over to Jaskier as he sings, his eyes squinting as he reads his scribbled writing in the tiny book between my fingers.

     His voice. It could bring any man, woman or child to their knees. My sweet angel.

     “She’s always bad news: It’s always lose-lose: So, tell me, love: Tell me, love: How is that just-” I look over at Geralt and already see his gaze upon me and turn my eyes back to the fire, letting Jaskier wrap his sweet words around me and whisk me far away for this moment. His timing was impeccable, as always, when he interrupted. Thank the Gods for that, I’ve had enough dread to last a lifetime.

    "But the story is this: She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss: Her sweet kiss: The story is this: She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss,” I smile as I scoot back slightly, leaning my back on Jaskier’s legs as I lift the book higher, pulling my lip between my teeth as I close my eyes. Maybe Jaskier’s song could bring me some peace. It sounded like one of love.

     “Her current is pulling you closer: A charge in the hot, humid night: The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool: Better stay out of si-ight!” He finishes with a little flourish, muttering some words, something of a jury and judge as he takes the journal from my hand hastily, practically shoving me forward as he places the book back on his knee. “It’s not quite finished yet, bu- “

     “I thought that you don’t sing love songs.” Geralt interjects, and I open my eyes to give him an incredulous look. That disrespectful little shit.

     “I think that it’s beautiful, Jaskier. Any woman would love to be compared to the sea.” My response was automatic. The compliment rolled off my tongue fluidly as I continue to glare at Geralt, my gaze never wavering in intensity as Jaskier continues to scribble in his little book, seemingly unawares to the brewing chaos around him.

      “Even if the song is a warning to stay away?” Geralt fires back steadily, eyes piercing as they stare back at me. I sit straighter as I square my shoulders at the man, standing my ground. If Jaskier wasn’t afraid of him, then I had no reason to be either. Grouchy, yes. But never unreasonable. That’s how Jaskier once described him, and now I see how wrong he was.

     “Maybe the warning isn’t to stay away from her. He just said, ‘stay out of sight’. Could mean anything.” I reason, leaning back onto Jaskier for pure comfort, Jas moving onto his other leg to write on automatically to accommodate my seating arrangement. Old habits die hard, it seems. If Geralt would stop talking I could close my eyes and it would feel almost familiar. Almost.

     “It could also mean exactly as it sounds. You just may not have enough plain common sense to understand the simplicity of his words.” The Witcher didn’t trust me. His words articulated that fact quite clearly in this moment, but that was fine by me. I don’t need him to trust me, I have Jaskier.

     “Or quite possibly you just don’t understand because you can’t get shit in life from anyone without having to pay for it, or so I assume, with everyone fucking hating you as they do, Butcher.” I snap at him, my annoyance bubbling over as ire courses its way through my being. The glare he gives me could kill and I’m sure if his eyes held that very power I would be dead where I sit in front of Jaskier by the fire on some unmarked trail.

     “Ladies shouldn’t curse.” Geralt chastises, changing the subject with his tone icy as winter as he speaks. Gone is the friendly Geralt from earlier and before me sits a stone cold Witcher, one from the lullaby that my mother would tell me to scare me into not getting out of my bed at night. Maybe my mother was right and Witchers had no feelings, their only care gold to keep them moving.

     But then again maybe she was wrong, and I hurt him.

     “Go fuck thyself.”

     The response was an answer to more than just this one comment, the vehemence behind my words making that exceedingly clear. Geralt blinked in momentary surprise, the taciturn expression dropping from his face as he continues to scowl at me while I smirked at him in small victory. I could still feel the pure ire course it’s way through my veins, a fire spreading as our eyes stayed locked, not daring to be the first to submit by looking away. He wanted to play, fine.

     Let’s play.

     “Are you two done bickering like an old married couple?” Jaskier teases with a small smile pointed in my direction, taking our little argument as friendly bickering as he looks up from his song book. Was he truly oblivious to the situation in its entirety?

     I surely wasn’t.

      Scoffing at Jaskier, a tense silence falling over us as I give him a side eye instead for a moment, waiting for the mood to set in around us. The small smile falls from Jas’ face slowly as the tension finally sets with him, his eyes losing their brilliant shine once he realizes that my anger was raging. By then, damage was already done.

      I stand and make my way to my lonely tent needing some well-deserved space after that frightful incident, leaving a sputtering Jaskier behind me as I throw a haphazard ‘goodnight’ over my shoulder before I lay on the cold ground. My arms had found themselves wrapped around myself in comfort as I wish for the ground to open wide to swallow me whole- possibly piece by piece if Mother’s lullaby of Witcher’s were right.

     He'll chop and slice you,

     Cut and dice you,

     Eat you up whole,

     Eat. You. Whole.

     “El-Elowyn, come on, now. Geralt-Geralt was just being cynical, is all. Trying to make me think outside of the box, he-he doesn’t mean anything by it. I swear. There’s a tough critic in every bunch, I don’t even pay him much mind any longer,” Jaskier coaxes as he interrupts my thoughts from outside the flaps, his shadows enlarged and dancing across the tent in front of me. I sigh as I shake my head, a hole appearing in my chest.

     Going back out means confronting my past. Going back out means making Jaskier happy.

     Staying means thinking of what to say on another day and disappointing the one person that I have in my life.

     The thoughts swirl through my mind, crushing it against the outer reaches of my skull until I feel the pain in the roots in my hair as I lay there, Jaskier unmoving from his spot at the entrance of my tent. He would stand there all night until I gave him a response, we both knew that. What was I going to say to him? What could I say?

      “Goodnight, Jaskier.” I repeat softly, voice as cold as the ground I lay on as my arms wrap tighter around me, trying to keep some semblance of warmth in. Maybe if I squeezed myself tighter, the hole in my chest would get smaller.

      “Elowyn… I… Goodnight.” His voice sounds defeated as he walks away. With every step that he takes, the hole in my chest widens until the hole swallows every fiber of my being inside in a swirl of dark emptiness. It’s vast, and unending and so damn dark.

      I’m not ready for this, I’m not ready for her.

      Maybe I shouldn’t have come on this adventure.

       “Pray tell, Geralt. What the fuck was that?” Jaskier asks quietly as he walks back to the fire, standing behind Geralt with his hands on his hips. Well, Geralt assumes his hands are on his hips, he hasn’t turned to check yet. He keeps sipping on his whiskey from the small pouch he carries with him, eyes trained on the flames flickering. The occasional pop crackling from the fire playing as simple background noise to his thoughts as he ignores the rambling bard behind his back, his senses more focused on the small thing curled up behind them.

         The girl had obvious trust issues, the choice of sleeping arrangement told him that much. Geralt wasn’t complaining about it in-and-of-itself, although he would rather have her near him where he could asses the danger if need be. Just because the Bard trusted the dainty girl, didn’t mean the Witcher did.

         There was also the fact that she wasn’t as forthcoming about this ‘Doxie’ as he hoped. In fact, just the mention of this character had seemed to set a fuse off in her eyes, one that unsettled him.

          A fuse that was seemingly easy to ignite.

          Something wasn’t right.

          “Geralt!” Jaskier asks again, louder this time, as he comes to stand in front of the White Wolf hands on his hips. Geralt smirks a bit at his pose, one he knew too well as he took another greedy, greedy sip knowing full-well that Jaskier wasn’t going to like this conversation any more than Geralt himself. Jaskier was emotionally invested, and once he had his mind set on something nothing would change it. Most times, not even Geralt. Hence the unspoken, unofficial title of ‘bodyguard’ between two old friends.

            Well, sometimes.

            Only when it benefitted both parties.

           “She’s hiding something.” He relented as he continued to examine the flames, eyebrows furrowing as his thoughts kept racing, trying to puzzle together the enigma that is becoming Elowyn. Jaskier scoffs rather obnoxiously in front of Geralt, swiping the whiskey from him as he resumes his spot next to the Witcher before he takes a hearty chug.

            “Well, of course she’s hiding something. I could’ve told you that, if you would’ve just asked. No need to go and torment the poor thing. I’ve known the girl since she was growing in her mother. Her tells are the same as ever. If she were in that kind of trouble, she would tell me. She would never-”-keep that from me. Jaskier sighs as he runs a hand over his face, shoulders slumping as he rests his elbows on his knees as his gazes falls on the dwindling flames before him. “She’s a good girl, Geralt.” His tone is small, as small as he feels inside. He knew something was wrong when she acted weird earlier that day, playing their game. Afraid of spiders, he knew she was afraid of spiders. It was because of him and his silly, idiotic tricks as a child that she was afraid of spiders to begin with.

              “Five years can change a person, Jaskier. You can’t be sure- “Doubt. Geralt is trying to cause doubt in his mind.

              “Yes, yes I can.” Jaskier interrupts as he stands, effectively silencing the Witcher for a moment with his solid persistence as he holds Geralt’s gaze firmly. He lets out a humorless chuckle, a very unhappy smile adorning his face as Geralt purses his lips, golden gaze glaring up at the Bard, eyebrows furrowed still as he sits before the much younger man. Geralt was trying to talk common sense into him, why couldn’t he see that? “And I am telling you, here and now- with every God that is and never was as witness, that I trust her with my life. That’s the end of it. End of conversation.” Jaskier finishes with finality, thrusting the drink back at his companion.

               “Jaskier- “Geralt drops his glare as he takes the pouch dejectedly, his tone bordering defensiveness as Jaskier holds a hand to stop his friend. There was nothing the Witcher could say to remedy the situation that this has become, and the only thing Jaskier could do from here is damage control.

               “End. Of conversation.” Jaskier reiterates, bending to pick up his lute and book as he stands tall, back straight as he sighs. He shakes his head slightly as he looks Geralt in the eye, a look of sadness clouding his gaze.

               A look Geralt has never seen from the singer.

               “Just-Just--Fuck, deireádh het aep het ess (End it as it is), Geralt.” Jaskier pleads while shrugging slightly, scratching the back of his neck nervously before turning to walk towards his own tent, leaving Geralt on the log as he goes with his thoughts of Elowyn and how he was going to fix this. Geralt sat for a moment before he took another solid pull from the whiskey, relishing in the warmth of the drink as it spread through his chest, the dying fire turning to warm embers at his feet as he watches Jaskier’s retreating back vanish into his tent for the night.

               That was… Well quite frankly, that was pitiful on my part at best.

               “Fuck.”

               “Beware the patient woman: For this I know,” Jaskier sings, sweat clinging to his brow as we dance circles around one another, making me laugh as my brother catches my eye over the crowd. The room was spinning even though I had come to a stop, a heat circulating through me as I fan myself, wishing I had kept my har tied rather than listening to my mother as Jas continues singing, going to sit on the stool he claimed earlier in the evening.

              “Happy birthday. Ely!” Maddox said as he handed me a gorgeous dark blue rose. I smiled broadly at him while I grabbed it with clumsy hands, the drinks from tonight catching up with me. The night was still young, but I was already drunk. Maybe too drunk. Swaying on my feet, Maddox seemed to have noticed and chuckled down at me while shaking his head, grabbing my elbow lightly.

               “A little wicked: That’s what she calls me,” Jaskier sings cheerfully as Maddox steers me by the elbow towards the door, the rose finding its way towards my sniffer. So pretty. “Cause that’s what I am: That’s what I am-” Jaskier’s voice is muffled as we exit and my brother leans me against the side of the building, the cold rocks grounding me slightly as I giggle up at my older brother. He smiles back down at me, dark green eyes sparkling in amusement as his red hair sticks to his forehead.

               “Thank you, Maddy. Smells pretty.” I tell him as I shove the rose in his face, rather violently, trying to show him how pretty she smelled. He laughs, swatting the rose away gently with a look of annoyance of his face. It made me laugh. Maddox annoyed. His eyebrows made wrinkles on his forehead that made a face, which never ceased to humor me.

               “You were doing it again.” He taunts. steadying me as I giggle, bringing the rose up to my nose to take a whiff. It smelled so darling; I could smell it forever.

               “Hmm? Doing what?” I ask, sobering up slightly as the breeze picked up around us, the skirt of my dress billowing slightly in the wind. I sniff from the rose again, stepping from the wall causing Maddox to take a step back, hands out to grab me if I started to stumble.

               “Staring at him, Elowyn. You were staring at Julian all night. Practically drooling like a hungry animal. I should know I’ve seen my fair share of hungry ani- “

               “It’s Jaskier, Maddox.” I correct, finger coming up to silence him. He laughs as he catches my wrist easily, holding it by my side when I try to break it from his grasp. I started swaying again, trying to keep in time with the swaying of the world around us. The trees seemed to bend behind his shoulders, I could see the leaves dancing in the wind, and I want to dance with them, but Maddox wouldn’t let me. He gripped my wrist tighter, his other hand coming up to grab my shoulder to keep me in place as he sighed, his other hand running over his face in annoyance. Again.

               “Jaskier then,” He relents, rolling his eyes at me. “you were staring at Jaskier, Elowyn Vernissier-”

               “S’not my fault he has pretty eyes. Pretty jokes, too.”

“Pretty jokes? Pox, Elowyn you really do have it bad, don’t you?”

               “I’m gonna ask to travel with him. Mmhm, travel. Like you.” I confess breathlessly, the alcohol bearing down on my inhibitions as I push myself from him and walk on my own. I am my own woman. I dance with the trees then, doing as I please as I giggle into the dark night, Maddox once again grabbing my wrist sharply. It’s in a swift motion as he turns me around, one too fast for me to understand I can only feel as I find myself pressed nose-to-chest and all I can do is stare feebly as the grip turns to steel on my wrist, making me cry out a little.

               “NO!” Maddox shouts forcefully, causing me to step and yank on my arm instinctively. He stalks forward, almost as a predator as I stare helplessly, the air being squeezed from my lungs. There is nothing that could have prepared me for this, there’s no way I could’ve known-

               I must get out of here.

               This wasn’t my brother.

               The worrying, sure. The wild, panicked look in his eye. The animal within snarling beneath with its heavy breath, raging war within his mind and taking control? No. My brother was many things, but he was never an animal before he left, and he wouldn’t be now. He was still in there and if I look close enough in the dark flecks of green and gold-there, yes, there. I can see him-

               “What? “The word sounds dejected, dead even to my own ears as it hangs between us. He has a feral look in his eyes as he takes a step closer, that fleeting moment of innocence gone as I mirror his actions in fear. A scared animal is an unpredictable animal.

               “You can’t.” His voice is deep and penetrating, he’s standing so close now I can feel the words vibrate through his chest. Do not look away, it’s a sign of weakness.

               “W-Why? Why can’t I? It’s my life.”

               “You don’t know what happens to pretty little things like you out there, Elowyn.”

               “Maddox stop it. You’re-You’re scari-”

               “I’ve seen things. Done things, Ely. Terrible things. You’ll promise me that you won’t ask him, yeah?”

               “You’re hurting me: let go of m-”

               “Ely, please. The things I’ve done. There are men who eat pretty little things like you up and spit you out like you are nothing. To them you are-”

               “Maddy, stop. That hur-”

               “nothing, I mean. Elowyn, you can’t leave. You won’t make it on your own; promise you won’t leave. You can never leave- “

               “HELP!”

               I bolt from my place on the ground, gasping for breath. My hands fly to my chest as I take in my surrounding, nothing but darkness shrouding me. This does nothing to ease my panic, a new wave of unease rolling through me as I pant heavily, wiping at the hair at the nape of my neck. I take a moment to run my fingers through my hair slowly, root to tip, grounding myself as I close my eyes.

               It was just a dream.

               ‘Dreams are occasionally like water in cups’ Momma’s soft voice floats through my head as my fingers flow their way through my hair as I pretend they were her fingers, untangling it slowly as I take a deep steadying, albeit shaky, breath. ‘sometimes they overflow,’

               I continue to untangle my hair, reopening my eyes slowly as I take another, deeper breath. The hole in my chest from before was beginning to crack. It was starting to crack open and spill, but I took a deep breath.

              In.

              Out.

              In.

              Out.

              I looked around me, taking in the darkness and the faint shape of a tent and it all comes rushing back to me. The tavern, the rain, Jaskier and I under the tree-

               Jaskier.

               I was on an adventure with Jaskier.

               I start to braid my hair as I continue to think purposely think about my breathing, the slow inhale and exhale a thought of purpose. Jaskier might be upset with me, I snapped at him earlier. Geralt expected answer to a question that was not his to ask. Binding my hair, I exit my tent, looking over towards where the boys set the tents by the horses. I could go see if Jaskier was awake. If memory served he was always a night owl.

               Then again, five years is a long time. A person could ch-

               “I thought you were out for the night. Or did you wake to fight a round two with our favorite Witcher?” Jaskier asks, tone light and amused from the dark. I place a hand over my racing heart, jumping slightly as I turn towards him. The sight of him sitting lazily with his back to the trunk off a tree, elbow idly propped up on his raised knee in unsettling attractiveness does little to ease the just stilled racing of my heart. If anything, now it was racing for an entirely different reason.

               “Fuck! Shouldn’t you playing an instrument or something?” I ask quietly, looking around to see if Geralt was near. Jaskier shakes his head at me with a small smile, eyes hopeful as he sits still against his tree. He had a leg stretched before him, his other hand coming out to his side in a unhurried shrug as he keeps my gaze. He was testing my waters, seeing where he stood.

               Smart man.

               “Geralt’s finally getting some sleep. He woke me up quite some time ago to keep watch.” He said as he patted the ground beside him. I walk over slowly, contemplating if I should sit or not. Jaskier simply looks out into the vegetation with his gaze flickering up to the sky after a moment or two. He was giving me my space as I make my ways towards him.

               “Oh.” I don’t know why. Maybe it was the warmth of his smile, his very being casting light into a sea of darkness. It could’ve been the smell of dandelions and lavender. Quite possible fucking destiny herself was another reason, but it didn’t quite matter. All that mattered was that it wasn’t my choice anymore, it was a predisposed deposition laid before me: couldn’t he see that?

               “He’s rough around the edges but he means well.” Jaskier comments as I finally take my place beside him, finally glancing at me. I roll my eyes as I wrap my arms around my knees, attempting to relax and enjoy the moment for what it was and not bristle at his vying for Geralt. I could feel jealousy blossom in the pit of my stomach as I grab my wrist tightly, sighing in exasperation.

               “He said that I had no common sense.” I pout, chin coming to find rest on my knees as well. Jaskier laughs softly at that, shaking his head as he picks up a stick from beside him, digging it around in the loose dirt at his own feet. He starts to draw seemingly random figures and I watch him, watch how his sole focus is on the random caverns being created in the dirt, his own little world. The lines start to cave into one other, their paths colliding with one another as he swirls the stick around in lazy patterns.

               “Well, that could be debatable.” Jaskier agrees quietly as he continues to dig, a light laugh bleeding into his words. I elbow him lightly, causing him to laugh harder as he gives me a returning shove, and it feels like home. It feels like we are children again, stealing wine and writing raunchy songs, and that nothing bad could touch us. Not even Geralt and his sourpuss mood.

               “Speak for yourself, Bard.” I tease, eyes looking up at the stars as I revel in the silence. We both sit there quietly, the only sound being the cicadas and birds in the distance, along with Jaskier’s stick in the dirt. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, although I couldn’t stand to sit in it with him. Too much time had already been wasted, why not grow a pair and say something already, Elowyn?

               “Truth or dare.”

               “You are the devil reincarnate.” He mutters as he pokes me in the side with his man-stick, causing a fit of giggles to flow from my mouth unexpectedly. I look at him with a smirk on my face, faux glare in place as I shake my head at him.

               “You wouldn’t have me any other way, now truth or dare.”

               “Dare.”

               “I dare you to sing me a song with the word ‘fuck’ in it fifteen times.”

               “You’ll be the death of me, you devil woman.” Jaskier holds his gaze with mine as

               “So, I’ve heard.”

               “I’m just supposed to come up with it off the top of my head? Just, ‘fuck’ fifteen times?” Jaskier talks over me, slumping in defeat as he huffs and puffs like an old woman. I tsk my tongue at him, shaking a pointed finger in his direction as I stand, pacing in front of him and his small dirt-world.

               “Are you not the famous bard Jaskier who has sung for kings and queens and us poor peasants alike? Or do I have the wrong man?” I bring my finger to rest under my chin dramatically as I look up to the sky, continuing to pace, “I must, because see, the boy I remember never once left me disappointed. Had a voice like an angel, he did- “I nod while glancing over at Jaskier, holding his gaze with a small smirk. I find his beautiful blue eyes already staring at me, smiling wide as his grip tightens on his little wand, eyes twinkling with something more. The look itself stops me in my tracks, mesmerized by the way the stars sparkle in his angel eyes. “-and he never ever left a request unfilled or a dare undone. No, never my Jaskier,” I’m almost breathless as I finish, a giggle escaping as a blush quickly rises to his cheeks at my choice of words. His smile never leaves his face, no, but it does widen as he clumsily stands to his feet, stick long forgotten on the ground as he wipes at his pants.

               “Fuck you, help me start a fire so I can fucking see.” Jaskier grumbles, passing by me with a soft bump on the shoulder. He bends to pick up wood as I turn to look at him, scoffing at his childish behavior.

               “Hey!”

               “Surely one such as devious as you shouldn’t need a reminder, Elowyn, however you must not remember how you got that scar under your chin.” He taunts as he turns towards me, standing close. Too close. We are chest to chest, breathing each other’s air as a blush rises to my cheeks, a painful memory from our shared childhood coming to life in my mind’s eye.

               “I-Ugh! That was all your fault!”

               “No! It is not my fault that you ran!”

               “You were trying to kiss me!”

               “You dared me to, and you said so yourself. I have never left a dare unfulfilled.”

               “Except that one.”

               “Well, yes. Except that one. But only because you were bleeding and crying and begging. You never know. I may come and collect one of these days, little devil.” I could feel my breath coming a bit faster as I kept staring into his eyes. His finger tapped under my chin lightly, tapping my scar and I giggle at Jaskier causing him to smile brightly down at me. I feel a flush raging down my neck, settling in my chest as a fire gathered between my legs while I continue staring. He almost trails his eyes along the rising redness down my exposed neck, the braid exposing my pale skin to him. It’s him who breaks away, clearing his throat before turning and muttering something about getting cold before gathering more wood.

               All I could think about was how his laughter was running through my veins. How the image of the stars sparkling in his eyes was forever etched into my memory. The boy. The one who would taunt me. The one who would stay up for hours with me, writing songs and singing. Maybe it was the dandelions and lavender. Could’ve been fucking destiny herself. It didn’t matter. All that mattered in this moment was that the hole was gone, and it was filled to overflowing with nothing, but warmth and it was Jaskier that was pouring it straight into my chest.

               Jaskier had filled my chest with the breath of adventure, again, taunting each other lowly as we sparked tinder and maybe something more. By the time we got a small fire going, I was hoping he couldn’t tell I had a small flush beginning to crawl up my neck. A fire inside to match the one on the outside.

               With a small fire crackling, Jaskier and I sit by each other. Close enough to almost touch but far enough to respect one another’s space. We lay with our backs against the log, legs out ass I lay my head against his shoulder tentatively, his lute laying across his lap as he picks a sweet melody across the strings. The song isn’t too fast paced nor is it slow, just a gentle little plucking as we lie there, a comfortable silence blanketing us as I close my eyes, relaxing more into Jaskier as the melody continues.

               “Shall I just ask you your question? Skip the pleasantries?” He hums, voice low as if he is afraid to break the calm silence between us. I smile fondly, a hand coming to rest on the crook of his arm gently, wanting to feel more of his warmth from today.

               “Well, I guess. I resemble mud well enough, may as well live up to the expectations set to me by my genetics.”

               “What was your nightmare about?” I rub the fabric there on his jacket, the fabric slightly rough on the soft pads on my fingers as I take a moment to think about my answer. I can feel the faint whispers of Jaskier’s muscles moving underneath his outer layer as I play with the fabric, sighing as I move my cheek side-to-side on his shoulder to scratch it.

               “It-It was more of a bad feeling, really. I don’t remember much,” I lie with my eyes closed, not bothering to look up at Jaskier as I speak. He continues to play his sweet song, never faltering as we speak.

               “What was the dream, Elowyn? Talk to me, please, jus- “

               “Fuck, it-it was my birthday,” I interrupt, his plea breaking my reserve as I open my eyes. His gentle tune starts to slow as I steady my gaze, his blue eyes calming as I take the plunge, “well our birthday. It was the day before you left, you must remember. You remember everything. It was-It was when Maddy- Shit.” I take a deep breath as the hole cracks in my chest, Jaskier’s melody swelling in volume to help calm my nerves as I relax once more. “It was that day with Maddox-”

               “You said you were fine. “He chides lowly, instrument still playing a loud slow melody. I keep my eyes open as I lay my head down, sighing in exasperation. I can feel the warmth swell around me and I lean more into Jaskier, sighing as I place my chin on his shoulder with a shrug.

               “There was nothing to talk about. And there isn’t still.”

               “He had you pinned down onto the ground, Elowyn, with his hand over your face saying pox knows wha- “

               “I remember!” I yell, closing my eyes once more as I put some distance between us. He stops playing then and I can feel the weight of his stare behind my eyelids. I rake a hand over my face before I reopen my eyes, voice softer than before as I keep his gaze. His lute was to the side of him then, and he had shifted towards me as I kept looking at him, running a finger over my hands before I speak. “I-I remember, thank you, Jaskier. My father found him atop me, whispering obscenities in my ear and that’s when Maddox attacked him. You and my mother got some-some men, I don’t fucking know, he-h-he then attacked them, and he died, I remember. It ended there, Jaskier, leave it alone.”

               “What aren’t you telling me, Ely? You’re keeping something from me, I can feel it.” He grabbed my hand softly then and it took all the resolve in me not to tell him everything. I could tell him of a mad man’s last words, muttered dark in low on the dirty ground in the early hours of the morning. I sigh as I shake my head, eyes drifting down to our joined hands in my lap.

               “Jaskier, please. Leave it alone. For now.”

               “For now.” He relents with a sigh and I can feel his arm relax under my touch. We stay in the calm and the quiet for a moment, relishing in one another before he picks up the neck of his lute, waggling it to catch my attention before he speaks. “Am I still permitted to play, my devil?” My head stays in its place at his shoulder, eyes closing for the final time before Jaskier hopefully sings me to sleep. The sky was still somewhat dark, the first signs of early morning settling into our bones.

               “Please. Something happy with a bounce to it. You still have a dare to complete.”

               “As you wish, little devil.

               “When a humble bard,

               Graced a ride along,

               With Geralt of Rivia,

               Along came this so-ong- “

[citialiin]

ZIGGY ✰ STARDUST

i jacked this from @cardinalrot​. thank you dad. tagging: @gothsic​ ; @blossomingbeelzebug​ ; @betelguide​ ; @thatcertainnight​ ; @prophesyed​ ; you, specifically, reading this.

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

FULL NAME.     [ redacted ] * NICKNAME.     ziggy  GENDER.     agender (he/him or they/them) / typically presents as a “man” for simplicity’s sake and also because he doesn’t care enough to think about it for more than 4 seconds HEIGHT.     5′10″ AGE.     26 (earth years) ZODIAC.     ??? (he wasn’t born under our stars ... so .......) SPOKEN LANGUAGES.     any/all (he doesn’t really know them, though, he uses an internal translator)

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

HAIR COLOR.     bright red, seemingly unnatural -- but it’s natural EYE COLOR.     left pale blue, right black SKIN TONE.     very, very, very pale BODY TYPE.     skinny. very skinny/slender/svelte.  willowy and tall and bony.  good for looking waifish on magazine covers but bad for lifting even vaguely heavy objects. VOICE.     posh, nasally, low, the slightest bit condescending.  speaks with an english accent despite not being english, let alone human.  drawls his vowels and enunciates his letters.  his voice is strangely clear and bright when he sings, unlike his somewhat unpleasant speaking tone, and he tends to sing in higher pitches than his speaking voice. DOMINANT HAND.     ambidextrous -- but he can only play the guitar left handed POSTURE.     very straight and proper, holds his head high and his shoulders square.  uncertain if it’s height alone or if he really is looking down upon you.   SCARS.     small incision in the back of his neck where the translator was placed. barely there and usually covered by a collar or his hair, anyways. TATTOOS.      none BIRTHMARKS.     a large yellow disc on his forehead, rimmed with a slightly darker yellow/bronze with the slightest hint of a chromatic shift affect due to reflecting/light catching pigment in skin cells.  this isn’t unique to him, however, as every member of his race has it. has the tiniest hint of a freckle above his lip, on the left side, and he hates it and wishes he could nuke it off his face.  both of these are usually covered, anyways. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).     the circular mark, his unusual eyes, his sharp features, his bright hair. everything about him is weird and outlandish and strange, but it helps him maintain a striking, marketable image.  

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

PLACE OF BIRTH.     far away.  HOMETOWN.    faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar away. SIBLINGS.    [ grabs the steering wheel and veers straight into worldbuilding headcanon territory ] the society he comes from is no longer sexually dimorphic and typically doesn’t reproduce the natural way.  having evolved far beyond such icky things, they use genetic samples from large swaths of the population to make consistent batches of new individuals -- the genetic samples are screened for defects and aberrations and sort of tossed together into a genome salad, and out comes however many individuals they need to fill in gaps in the population.  there’s a lot of consistency in his species due to this: everyone has reddish hair, everyone has heterochromia, everyone is about the same height, etc.  so technically, he’s related to everyone in his “batch.” PARENTS.   he wouldn’t ever know -- a lot of people, probably

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

OCCUPATION.    rockstar -- cultural icon -- celebrity -- musician -- singer -- model -- jerk CURRENT RESIDENCE.    london, LA, NYC, but he’s constantly moving and tours quite often CLOSE FRIENDS.    few and far in between -- he’s friends with his drummer who is named priscilla but usually goes by the stage name WEIRD, as well as siddharth, his bassist, who goes by sid in his personal life but GILLY on stage.  they were the first two humans to encounter him and taught him everything he knows, from how to tie his shoes (aliens wear boots, and you should know this) to the C major scale -- because they are among the few humans who know his secret, he views them as his closest and dearest friends.  his stardom isolates him from them, just a little -- he likes the spotlight but they don’t mind just being “the drummer” and “the bassist.”  they don’t quite have the star power that he does.  his manager  -- tama ahinariki, some guy from new zealand who seemed to bumble his way into becoming in charge of one of the most successful musicians of the decade -- also knows he’s an alien, but they tend to be more business partners than close friends.  tama is more interested in the money side of things whereas priscilla and sid are only interested in the music.  ziggy has stock in the music, money, and his personal brand.  

via rp, he’s made some friends with other characters! a few. very few.  RELATIONSHIP STATUS.    single -- he intends to stay that way.  he gets all the action he could ever need from his legion of devoted fans and groupies.  even in situations where he’s romantically involved and emotionally invested, he would never consider himself exclusive or monogamous.   a lot of tabloids make rumors that he’s involved with cardinal copia, fellow rock icon, but he tends to be sneaky at hiding any time they spent together.  it’s hard to keep things private when you’re both massively popular public figures, though. he goes out of his way to be sure no one knows about his predilection for spending time with thomas, because the last thing an awkward alien in disguise needs is a lot of public attention because people think you’re dating a celebrity (who they don’t know is also an alien). he hangs around annie a lot, too, but this is extra extra under wraps, because annie has a stalker named jonathan who may or may not go apeshit and try to tear his head off or something if he finds out.   FINANCIAL STATUS.    filthy rich. should be guillotined.   DRIVER’S LICENSE.    doesn’t have one. he has some paperwork, somewhere, with a “real” name and all that, but he has no idea where it is and lets his manager deal with that stuff. CRIMINAL RECORD.    none ! clean slate.  that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do illegal things, though.  he just doesn’t get caught.   VICES.    smoking, drinking, la cocaina, sex, impulsive spendng, rockstar stuff.  

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫��𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.   bisexual. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.     submissive  |  dominant  |  switch  | top |  bottom | verse. this doesn’t really come up in rp because i dont write nsfw. the way i view it is that he’s lazy and would rather you take care of him than the other way around LIBIDO.    pretty high, but it’s difficult for him to have as much sex as he might prefer because, uh, he has, uh, alien..............parts...........and stuff ..... like ....... some parts down there look different ....... so he’s stuck having sex with usually in the dark, under sheets, and he has to zip his pants up really quick afterwards. maybe it’s a little bit hilarious and i just think it’s funny idk LOVE LANGUAGE.    selflessness (which is big, for him, king of all douchebags and lord selfish dickhead the third), rambling to you about his day, physical affection, gifts, letting you see him without make up, opening up to you about his life before earth.  he might play you music, sing to you or write you songs if he’s feeling particularly sappy.  this is stuff reserved for people that he finds himself incredibly romantically/emotionally attached to, though, not the people he has one night stands with.  and he almost never forms any sort of lasting attachment to the people he sleeps with casually. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.    he tends to fall for people who challenge him in some way, who aren’t easily beguiled by his status and physical looks, but who aren’t outright mean to him.  that being said, he is very vain, and he loves being showered in compliments, praise or attention.  he matches well with people who can put up with his antics and moodiness and odd behavior.  he likes the idea of being someone’s muse or someone’s idol, so he finds himself drawn to other creative types.  he has the most intimate/special connections with other nonhuman beings, especially other aliens, cuz he feels like they Get him and he wouldn’t be really giving himself in his fullest form if he had to still play pretend that he was a human being.  for whatever reason he goes apeshit for goth guys/dudes with black hair who wear a lot of black.  he really doesn’t like people who are too much like him, because HE’S HIM, and you’re YOU, and he really wants it to stay that way.  GET OUT OF MY DRESSING ROOM

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.   there’s a whole album about him .......... theres a song called “ziggy stardust” .......  HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.    singing, music, writing -- he lives for that shid.  he likes art in all forms, so he reads, watches movies, looks at paintings -- he has a lot of human culture to catch up on, and he loves all of it, from any time period and any culture.  he also likes buying things, shopping, looking nice, gossip.  he tends to be a party animal (party alien?) and often indulges in more hedonistic fun. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED.    his brain is not structured like a human brain. also, head empty.  no thoughts. FEARS.    being perceived as ugly or untalented, being outed as an alien, being rejected for being an alien, becoming a nobody, losing his social status, becoming a conformist, becoming “outdated” or “uncool” SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.    somehow sky high and on the floor at the same time. he usually thinks he can do anything and he’s pretty perfect, but that may just be from a solid few years of repeating that to himself and empty praise given by people who are just crazy obsessed with him -- he built his confidence level on a very shaky foundation, so it’s easy to start making him doubt himself and panic if you know what to criticize him on VULNERABILITIES.    a lot of things, and im sick of typing

* pay me 100000 USD to unlock my LEVEL 20 ZIGGY STARDUST LORE pack now with NAMING/TITLE INFORMATION, HOME PLANET CLIMATE/WEATHER PATTERNS and PAST OCCUPATION/EDUCATION information.  includes a piece of gum i found on the floor.

[old-read-all-about-kpop]

@rockessss: Hello! I really like your writings so can you write a headcannon of Hwanwoong from Oneus as a boyfriend? Thank you! ❤❤

A/N: Alright BOOM! I feel good about myself cause I completed two requests yesterday so I feel like I am on fire right now! Here is your request my dear! I am truly sorry for the long wait and I appreciate your patience. Enjoy lovely! 💓💓💓💓

Okay here we goooo

Hwanie would most definitely cherish you

No ifs, ands, or buts about it

This young man would be the type to dote on you and wait on you hand and foot

It would get to the point that you wouldn’t even need to ask him for anything

He would just know

Like spidey senses

If you winced in pain and grabbed at the body party that was the cause he would hurry to get some medication and water

If you started tearing up for whatever reason he would bring you into an embrace

Sometimes you wouldn’t even shed tears because of the fact that Hwanwoong would already have you in his arms due to him being emotionally aware of you

Again spidey senses that only ever go off for you and you only

If you wanted cuddles he’d provide his baby with them with no protests

He would probably gush over you to no end if you laid between his legs with your head on his chest

He’d probably be the type to play around with you by breathing all quick so you would practically bounce on his chest

You’d smack him on his chest and he’d burst out laughing

But of course you would laugh along with him because of his contagious laugh and amusing antics

He would also hold no protests regarding kisses or hugs

The man would supply you with endless amounts of them

To the point that you have to grab a spatula to pry him off of you

He just screams clingy to me (but of course not the bad kind)

He would provide you your much-needed space if you asked, of course, no doubt about it

But he would certainly be up under you, tending to whatever needs you have, until that time comes when you become sick of him (which will never happen)

Now, regarding dates, Hwanie would take charge on that part of your relationship

He seems like the spontaneous type

He would never wanna repeat the same date twice

He would give it a few weeks to a couple of months before doing that

You would probably be his first girlfriend and he would want to make nothing but new memories with you

And each and everyone he would cherish

He would even take one or two pictures so he can look back at them

And without you knowing he would have a file in his phone that consisted of you guys’ many adventures together

But you guys wouldn’t just be each other’s romantic partner

You two would be best friends

One of you could pitch any type of idea that comes to mind and the other would agree to it without a second thought

But thatś how you guys clicked so well

Both of being spontaneous and creative meant many memorable adventures together

Overall Hwanwoong would appreciate the floor you would walk on; he would have nothing but deep love for you so much that it would be viewable from space; he would simply be in love with you and thank the Lord for your existence

A/N: And there it is! Again, I am sorry about the long wait for your request to be completed my love! Hopefully, you enjoyed reading 💓 💓 💓 💓 💓 💓

[wnq-psychology]

How To Build Your Self Esteem

step away from the affirmations

“To be healthy, functioning individuals, we need to feel good about ourselves. To feel good about ourselves, we need to feel that our time and energy is spent meaningfully. Meaning is the fuel of our minds. When you run out of it, everything else stops working.”

Most of us struggle with self esteem. Many of us are fortunate enough to realize this, and some of us care enough to try to fix it.

The problem, however, is with the majority of the resources available to us — especially online. I am pretty sure these articles are 100% written by people who have serious self esteem issues, regurgitated from everyone else who has self esteem issues, on down the cycle to readers with self esteem issues, who think it’s just their fault for not being able to apply them and successfully boost their self esteem.

But of course not. Because none of this is how self esteem works.

First, let’s talk about what self esteem ISN’T:

Self esteem is not selfishness or narcissism

Having to say this makes me impatient, because if people don’t innately “get it,” they fight it blindly, emotionally, tooth and nail. And I understand, because there are a lot of emotions on the line here (see: entire post) so I’m just going to tread lightly and quickly when I say:

Self love and self esteem are not selfishness.

On the contrary, selfish people have desperately low self esteem and self love, which is why they overcompensate, demand, and have nothing left to give others.

Self esteem is not a series of “dont’s”

Most self esteem articles cheerily suggest things like, “Don’t have the negative self talk. Don’t compare yourself to others. Don’t put yourself down. Don’t doubt yourself,” like “just don’t have low self-esteem!”

These aren’t solutions.

The brain struggles with the word “don’t,” and when you focus on the negative, you’re still focusing on the thing. The brain interprets the sentence as an imperative, like: “ah, okay, negative self talk. Got it!” The brain is baby Groot.

The way we talk to ourself is a reflection of self esteem, not the root. It’s effect, not cause. It helps, of course, but it’s not the core. And fixing the core will fix the way we think and talk about ourselves.

Nature abhors a vacuum. If you don’t have something positive at the ready, the old stuff will just rush back in.

Self esteem does not come from others

It’s not anyone’s job to make you feel good about yourself. It can only come from you.

Some articles suggest that readers should “learn to accept compliments” — several even went so far as to suggest that you approach others and “ask them what they like about you.”

Trying to build self esteem through “others’ compliments” is like trying to learn how to walk by being carried.

Only you control of your self-acceptance and self-love.

Self esteem is not in “self help”

This is just an extension of the above.

Self help reinforces perceptions of inferiority and shame. It plays on insecurities and fabricates solutions that don’t serve real needs. It encourages avoidance.

It’s like how MayoClinic convinces us we’re dying more than it actually, directly remedies health problems. Engaging will eventually make us absorb all these negatives. We are not more powerful than what we give attention.

Self help just replaces one external influence for another. We’re still grasping for some authority figure, some omnipotent voice, to tell us what to do.

This of course includes this very post. Which is ironic, but at least honest and warm-hearted, because I wrote this only after doing tons of similar reading myself, and I write hoping we all resolve this.

Self help will never help

When I was getting my business off the ground, in the 3 dark months of “white noise” after quitting my job but before getting my first customer, isolated and running mostly on “faith” alone, someone asked me, “what kind of music do you listen to during the day?” I told them, “on good days, upbeat music. On bad days, chill music. And I know it’s an ugly day when I resort to motivational videos on YouTube.”

Those videos got me nowhere — except maybe through the day.

You want to know what finally kicked my self esteem back into gear? When I started making sales. Once that happened, I never watched another motivational, “self-help” video.

Self esteem is not about “pampering”

My god, if we could all stop with the “indulgences” and “little day to day pleasures;” if only we could stop thinking “self love” is about “treating ourselves,” or “scheduling time every day for fun and relaxation.”

Heidi Priebe said it best,

“Real self-love isn’t about ‘treating yourself’… because real self-love is less about babying yourself and more about parenting yourself.”

Good parents don’t indulge children with candy each time they cry. Good parents support, teach coping mechanisms, and gently encourage growth.

This is what loving ourselves means as well. It’s not about daily indulgences. It’s identifying and pursuing our longterm values.

Self esteem is not about affirmations

Fuck writing down all your best qualities.

I don’t know who came up with this terrible advice, but it’s pretty much useless. Consider, for a moment, the most genuinely confident person you know — do they sit down every day and write down their best qualities? Maybe they do, but I doubt it.

Confident people don’t do this. And people don’t magically become confident doing it. Only self-doubting people get stuck in this compulsive loop.

Self love is not about affirmations.

As Heidi Priebe wrote,

“Claiming to love yourself and actually doing the hard work of loving yourself are not the same thing… You can repeat a thousand affirmations an hour, write a limitless number of blog posts about how you’re worthy of love and stick millions of post-it notes reminding yourself how awesome you are on every mirror in your house, but that only gets you 10% of the way to self-love.”

Except it’s more like 0%.

The real solution is: agency, awareness, authenticity, and action.

What self esteem IS:

Step 1.) Self esteem is agency

Self love is taking responsibility.

So many terrible articles encourage readers to keep self esteem at the mercy of external forces, prompting them to “think about what is affecting your self-esteem,” and suggesting “your confidence may have been lowered after a difficult experience or series of negative life event, such as: being bullied or abused, losing your job or difficulty finding employment, ongoing stress physical illness, mental health problems, a difficult relationship, separation or divorce.”

No. To this entire list: no.

I’m not saying that bad shit didn’t happen to you — it probably did. Because bad things happens to everyone. But life isn’t about playing the victim, or comparing notes on who suffered most. Life has negatives in the cards for everyone — even the most confident people you know — and the only difference between those with self esteem and those without it is that the first group chose to take responsibility for their lives, their responses, and their actions.

So when it comes to thinking about “what is affecting your self-esteem,” the answer is always “you.”

You are in control of your self esteem. That’s the entire list, beginning to end.

you are in charge. you are in charge. you. are. in. charge.

Step 2.) Self esteem is awareness

This is super important, and we don’t talk about it enough.

Get out of your damn head. Be present.

Stop slipping away. Stop shutting down. Stop freezing and falling silent any time you’re uncomfortable, or unsure, or anxious. Stop reminiscing on the past, or thinking about the future, or wandering around, mentally, anywhere that you actually aren’t.

I wrote pretty openly about struggling with this myself, and the fact that I’m currently working on it, so I speak from a place of empathy and love.

We do this is because we’ve learned that “shutting down” offers security — it’s “easier” if we don’t engage; we think there’s less risk.

But what we give up in exchange every time we do this is moments of our own lives. Which is why, in those brief moments we pull our head out of the sand, we’re filled with panic to realize we don’t like what we’re living. But then most of us respond by seeking reassurance (see “self help,” above — “you can do it!”) or solutions we don’t take, and ultimately shut it back down.

The first step? Awareness of your breathing. Second, awareness of your body in space; what you’re physically feeling. From there, you’ll become more aware of what you’re emotionally feeling as well. Accept these emotions as they come to you.

Wake up. Be aware of what you’re doing and where you are all the time. And most importantly: be aware of what you feel and think about it…

Step 3.) Self esteem is authenticity

It’s knowing what we actually want.

This is probably the hardest part. It’s also really important.

Because “nature abhors a vacuum,” if self esteem isn’t coming from external sources, but us instead, then we have to do the work of identifying what wewant and need — in that vacuum, without regard to others. (Note: just like the “selfish” section, that is not meant to read as “without regard for others.” We should still be considerate. But able to say what we want (or think or feel or need) without having to first ask, “well but what do others want?”)

Self esteem is answering “what do I think?” without first asking “what do others think?” This is harder than people realize, especially because it’s so ingrained.

I was recently thinking about what I wanted to do for Valentine’s Day, and initially could not answer this question— did I really want to go to dinner, or did I just like the way that sounded? Did I really want flowers, or did I just hope they’d serve as some security; some certainty that this was special? Did I really even want to do anything? Sometimes we do things we don’t evenreally want, but doing what “sounds good” saves us the risk of regretting having not done something come the morning of the 15th.

(In the end, what I wanted was a cookie from our favorite local bakery. We go together all the time and they put out these seasonal designs that are so adorable I could die. And then, like a good partner, I said in clear words that that’s what I wanted.)

We do this with everything. We pick where to travel, what to buy, and where to eat based on other people — our order at restaurants is influenced by others’, and we eat more in the presence of people we’re trying to impress. We often choose clothing, cars, houses, and hobbies couched in “what others think.” And sadly, we often even choose jobs and partners this way.

Sometimes we’re asked: “What would you do if you could not fail?”

And that’s great, but an equally great question is: “What would you do if you could not tell or be told by anyone?”

Would you get married if you had to go on telling people you weren’t? Would you drive the same car if nobody saw? Would you do the same thing on your weekends if you couldn’t frame it up as “how it retells on Monday morning?” Would you vacation in the same places if nobody knew?

Would you still be doing the same job and have the same partner if you had to tell people you had a totally different job and partner, both of which they deemed “unimpressive?”

What do you want? Not just in the moment, but in the long-run. What areyour values? What is your version of long-term happiness?

If that’s too hard or scary to speculate: start with a chunk of lifestyle now. Not your leisure time, but your actual life. When, for example, are you happiest at work? If your answer has anything to do with others (i.e., “when I get recognition,” “when I get a raise,” “when I win a deal,” or “when I help others,” you need to look again, for answers that serve you.) Maybe you don’t even like your work. That’s for you to explore.

If you’re struggling here and you just want more “help” on “how to do it:” you are missing the point entirely (and probably also missing the alarm bell that should be going off in your head.) This work fundamentally cannot be done by anyone else. This work is you. Do the work.

If you are so far gone that you still feel lost knowing what you want onany level: you skipped self awareness. You’re not paying attention. See “step 2” for further instruction.

Skipping this step is why “just do it!” doesn’t help

Our struggle (and reluctance) to find answers is why “advice” like “just do it!” or “just try things and see what you like” is met with apprehension at best, and disaster at worst. (If you aren’t in touch with what you actually want, and what your happiness feels like, there’s no way of even knowing if you like what you’re trying, and without this skill set, you’ll just keep falling back on “but it sounds cool” or “it’s what people do.”)

You can’t know what you love if you don’t know what love feels like, and you’re so out of touch with your own feelings you don’t know what it is.

We have to actually know who the hell we are, and what we want. Experimenting and taking action is second-grade reading level and we’re still learning letters over here.

Step 4.) Self esteem is action

Only once you understand what you want — what really makes you happy — in the long run.

Action is about making decisions. It’s about committing. It’s about choice and assertiveness and asking for the things we want and need. It’s about taking steps, and thinking, and coming to our conclusions — and then verbalizing them.

It’s also about being aware. It’s about being alert and awake and active in our own lives — not passive, compliant, or submissive.

As Nathaniel Branden wrote in “How to Raise Your Self Esteem,”

“Living consciously means taking responsibility for the awareness appropriate to the action in which we are engaged. This, above all, is the foundation of self confidence and self-respect.”

Or, to be slightly more clear,

“The difference between low self-esteem and high self-esteem is the difference between passivity and action.”

But knowing what action to take requires knowing what we want, outside of what others want — i.e., authenticity — which requires that we take full responsibility for our lives. Which requires that we dump all of the bad assumptions and models around self love, take agency in-house, and start to build self-fueling fire of our own desire.

About The Author:

Kris Gage

Motorcyclist, Software Manager, Drink-Slinger of the South 🍻 

Reach out: http://bit.ly/2CXgcv5

[doux-ciel]

Victim Chapter Eight

|WARNINGS|: Graphic Violence, Death, Angst, Emotionally Heavy, Talk of Suicide.

⚠️YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!⚠️

Tagged: @erinisawriter @sugarmommamusings @theouterdark @pazwrites @godxblooded @farore5 @ghost-possum @delphwrites @sauwrites @seraphilth @felwrites @xanderswriteblr @writing-in-the-margins @wallpatterns @riftversus @remorse--less @cvlms @velvet-moss @niva-writes

*Let me know if you want to be added/removed*

Masterlist:  🔪🔪🔪

Message

I Never Lose. Either I win or I Learn. - Anonymous

Leyla

I turn to the left on the intersection of Figueroa street and Soto street; when I reach down to grab my phone that fell on the floor earlier today. I feel something on my finger, when I bring my hand up I'm holding a piece of hair. I scrunch my eyebrows confused, placing both my hands back on the wheel as I am keeping straight. The radio playing softly in the background. I quickly glance at Melanie, “Next time don't try and get all your hair in my car when you brush it Melanie"

Melanie chuckles and places her bare feet on the dashboard. "You don't own me"

I've told this girl a thousand times to not put her feet on my dashboard but does she listen?

No.

I shake my head as I approach a stoplight, gently pressing the brake pedal, I start to smack Melanie's feet off of the dashboard. We did this for about  2 minutes, me attempting to smack her legs and Melanie moving her feet before I hit her. She finally places her feet on the carpet, both of us laughing. I see the light turn green, then I see Melanie's body language shift it was like she was in a trance, her eyes glued to the radio. Nothing but the sound of Labrinth singing Jealous. Bringing her hand up to the radio volume knob, turning up the music.

Cause I wished you the best of, All this world could give

And I told you when you left me

There's nothing to forgive

But I always thought you'd come back, tell me all you found was heartbreak and misery

It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way

You're happy without me.

                            ¤ ¤ ¤

When we finally get to the bar it was 10:00 p.m. We see some people just hanging around outside, when we walk in it's moderately packed. Some people at the bar and some people sitting down just a casual crowd.

They just added in the new Karaoke lounge it was sitting smack dab in the front, I look up and see that there are two seats open right on the edge of the bar. I quickly grab Melanie's hand speed walking over to the two seats.

"Can I get a Vodka Tonic" I say to the bartender.

He turns his attention to Melanie, she takes a seat next to me smoothing out her dress. "I'll have the same"

While waiting we turn around and see that they turned on the karaoke machine, we both decide to listen in. A man goes up looks to be mid 50's caucasian and the way he's dressed you can definitely tell he's a tourist, we can hear his wife screaming his name while clapping.

As he starts to sing Livin' On a Prayer. Melanie and I can't control our laughter. Melanie turns to me, we give each other a look and start laughing again, in between laughing I hear Melanie. "Oh my gosh that guy sounds like my mom when she's singing in the shower"

I'm trying to control myself to not be too loud, that's when I look behind Melanie and see Piper.

Just when we were having a good night.

"Melanie" Piper says as she sits beside my best friend.

Melanie's smile turns into a frown when she turns her chair over to see Piper staring at her. "Piper"

Piper leans her body back, waving over to me. "Hey Leyla"

I nod smiling muttering a quiet hello

I could see Melanie's leg shaking minutes go by, finally our drinks arrive. As I'm about to bring the drink up to my lips, I hear Melanie. "Where's the security footage?"

I almost spit out my drink when I hear her say that, Piper looks just as shocked as me but more so she looks thrown off by the question.

"What are you-"

Melanie waves her off, smacking her lips. "Don't give me that bullshit excuse, Leyla and Grey talked to that security officer....he told them about you Piper and your services"

I see Piper clamping down on her clutch, gripping it so tight that her already pale knuckles are turning white. She takes a breath in and lets it out quickly. "So what do you want to know?"

"Why did erase the security footage...the night that Joslyn died?"

"I had my reasons" Piper answers simple. She grins. "You really think that security officer would tell the cops that it was me? He's not going to risk losing his job. You can't prove anything and It's not illegal"

"It is if it has to do with your best friend's death!" Melanie shouts, causing the whole bar to look over at us. I hear a bunch of whispering.

They need to stop arguing now. I already felt bad about Grey almost killing that security officer yesterday and now this.

I can sense a lot of hostility in the room with Melanie and Piper, I decided to interject myself into the conversation.

"You wanna do karaoke?" I ask.

"What?" they both say in unison.

I stand up from my seat and put my drink on the coaster, before I repeat."Do. You. Want. To. Do. Karaoke"

Piper pauses, looking back and forth at me and Melanie, she glances at Melanie once again. "Is she serious?"

I see Melanie jump down from the bar stool and sigh. "Sadly...she is".

I turn around and walk over to Piper, I grab her hand and pull her up from the stool. I walk back over to Melanie and take a hold of her hand as well, leading us over to the crowd of people waiting for their turn to get up on the tiny stage.

"C'mon lets just forget about the arguing, the fighting, and the secrets and lets just have a good time...take our minds off of everything for just one night."

                               ¤ ¤ ¤

After at least 2 hours of Leyla, Piper and even Melanie singing they shut the bar down, as the bar owner closes up shop all three girls stand outside. Piper is waiting for her driver at the sidewalk. Leyla went to go bring the car around when she was at the turn to make a left towards Melanie and Piper.

Leyla sees Melanie leaning closer to Piper, whispering something in her ear. Pipers nods her head as If agreeing to something Melanie says. Piper lifts her head up towards Leyla as she pulls up and starts smiling. Leyla brings the window down and shouts at Melanie "C’mon girl get your butt in this car before I leave you"

"I'm coming". Melanie starts to walk toward the passenger side door but before she opens the door she looks at Piper.

"Goodnight"

                      ¤ ¤ ¤

After an evening of laughter and singing it's time for Leyla to head to bed. Already gotten her shower and brushed her teeth she climbs into bed, getting under her covers. She grabs her tablet that is sitting on the nightstand charging, unplugging it from the charger cable and presses in her passcode.

Leyla usually listens to ASMR to help her go to sleep, she clicks on YouTube but something stops her...she remembers the song Melanie was listening to in the car. She looks up the song lyrics, finding the song she clicks on it scrolling down and reading the comments she sees someone wrote in the comments below the video: Jaelynn's favorite song #Neverforget

Leyla's fingers click out of youtube and go on safari she goes to the search engine and types in the name Jaelynn Davis. Leyla is Shook, she sees posts, online articles, a bunch of stuff dealing with Jaelynn. clicking the third link down from the page she gasps when reading it.

 JAELYNN DAVIS FOUND DEAD IN HER OWN HOME.

  Published: February 2nd 2014

Jaelynn Davis a 15 year old teenage girl was found dead in her home by  her mother. It was after a school dance and her mother kissed her cheek goodnight, not knowing it would be the last time she would see her daughter. The family is heartbroken at the loss of their youngest member, her sister Melanie said a few words at the memorial they had out for Jaelynn at the school. "She was clever and bright, she loved reading and doing her work. These bullies....teased her relentlessly, just because she was a bit different. These disgusting people killed me sister."

Describing her as an intelligent young girl. The schools counselor Diana Russ explains. "The whole school is deeply saddened by Jaelynn's death. Her death is a terrible waste of a life. At 15 years old, she should have been living a carefree life, she should've enjoyed the school's dance, but instead she was ashamed and felt that she had to end her life. The people that are responsible for her death and or anyone who stood by and watched it happen passively should be punished."

Leyla couldn't keep reading the article, she felt the tears fall down her face, now she knew why Melaine never told her about her sister, it was probably too hard for her to talk about.

Now she knows about Jaelynn, the secret sister.

Leyla knows about the suicide.

[trashy-greyjoy]

Hey! I don't mean this to sound rude, but I honestly don't see the sizzle reel being that bellarke centric (other than the 101 counting bellamy). I was wondering if you could go through your train of thought?

Not rude at all! I’d be happy to explain! I don’t write meta, if thats what this is, so just hang in there! This is what I personally got out of it. So basically the sizzle reel showcased a majority of the important moments in bellarke’s relationship development. I’d say you can actually split the moments between the narration from Madi and the clips we see. 

The voice over moments are aimed at viewers who know the story and will pick up on the little callbacks. While all the clips we actually see of Bellamy and Clarke are framed to imply an intimate or at the very least a close personal relationship. (this was the part that I when i said it looks romantic to people who haven’t seen the show). 

Narration (Spoken Lines)

“101 including Bellamy”: Clarke like immediately starts off by interrupting Madi’s story to make sure the girl didn’t forget to include her boy Bellamy. And it’s such an insignificant thing to pick out, the fact that she stops the story to correct it and make sure Madi includes Bellamy shows the audience that he’s important to her. 

It’s also important to note that Bellamy is the only character mentioned by name in the entire narration. That sticks him out as very important in flashing neon letters.

“So they did whatever the hell they wanted”: We all know that the phrase “whatever the hell we want” was Bellamy’s motto early in the show, it was exclusively his and we see a few characters call back to it after his development. Which means Madi including that phrasing is intentional and she knows about Bellamy being a little shit the first like week on the ground and Clarke told her. This is also a fairly insignificant moment in the grand scheme of the story for Madi to know. Most of the reel is a recap so its in general terms, so its weird that a small things significant to only Bellamy’s character is picked. So we can assume Clarkey G is very in depth about her boy Bell.

“Together, even bad children can do good things.”: When Madi says this part she puts slight emphasis on the word together and separates it from the rest of the sentence. We all know together is Blarke’s thing and those dramatic shits won’t let us forget it. So that was, in my opinion, a reference to their teamwork and “togetherness”. Losers.

It’s immediately followed by the “Who we are and who we need to be…” clip AND the smiling like idiots after almost dying in a car collision clip (which I’ll talk about below) just furthering the connection between Bellarke and “together”.

“There are no good guys.”: This was originally a Abby / Clarke quote but Clarke repeats it back to Bellamy in S3 and in the reel they play it over the clip of that angsty lever pulling in Mt. Weather.

“The bravest and the fairest of them all…”: This one is more my personal head canon or overreaction, you pick. But this means Clarke describes herself to Madi as “fairest of them all” which is a phrase commonly used to describe what now? FUCKING PRINCESSES. Clarke sees herself as a Princess of this story and no one is going to convince me Bellamy Blake is not responsible for that.

“Everyone she loved or cared about was gone… or lost to space.”: This one might be a stretch, but Bellamy is literally the only character portrayed as having an important relationship or connection to Clarke out of any of the people in space. Hell, he’s the only one we know by name too so… I just personally… have the belief… that it is implied… ;)

Kind of in between the narrative and the visuals is the fact that Bellamy has more spoken lines in the Sizzle Reel (obvs apart from Madi’s narration) than any other character, so again, he’s an important person to Clarke.

Visuals (Clips)

The “Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things” moment: This is a clip of Bellamy offers sound advice to Clarke being his soft self. It’s one of the first times we see him actually be soft with her (clearly he picks up the habit quickly though). Before then he’s always been harsh, but here we got our first glance at him trying to actually comfort her. From an outside perspective of someone with no previous knowledge of the show, its a moment of someone (who we already know is important to Clarke) try to offer her a bit of comfort or calming advice in a very soft and sincere way. So you get the impression they care.

That "let’s smile at each other in relief after you just shot a guy in a moving vehicle and saved our lives”: We know its a moment of relief after Bellamy just saved Clarke’s life, but also saved the collective asses of the human race with those barrels of hydrazine. It’s cute they smile, they’re glad they’re alive. Again, from an outsider’s perspective, they see Bellamy being a boss and shooting the guy in Clarke’s rover and the two of them smiling in relief like idiots. Again establishing that they care about each other and that there is a bond between them and that they’re cute when they smile. Idk are you catching the drift? It’s framed and cut so it comes off intimate.

S1 inspirational Bellamy speech: not really a focus on the Bellarke relationship, but it’s a powerful moment that, once again, enforces the importance of Bellamy to this story (and, in turn, to Clarke, holla!)

Dramatic pulling of the Mt. Weather Lever “TOGETHER”: A very important moment we, as viewers, know. Bellamy puts his hand over hers to pull the lever together and to share that burden because it’s what they do, and we also know how important it was for Bellamy because he was letting her know she isn’t alone. Outsider pov, its a teary eyed Bellamy looking at a stressed af Clarke and covering her hand with his own to pull the lever. It’s clearly emotional. It’s clearly significant. Again, framing it to add intimacy. All an outsider would see is two very close “friends?” in an emotional moment. ROMANCE. (It’s also played behind the “There are no good guys,” line.)

“You’re not acting like someone who just saved the world” moment: It’s soft. It’s packed with subtle emotions. Bob has those fucking heart eyes going again. They’re both bloody and tired and about to cry again. You know, just clearly two pals being emo and soft with each other LIKE ALWAYS.

Quick shot of the “Blake family hand holding panic” as Arkadia burns: It’s small and quick, but it adds a small moment of unity between the obvious family dynamic the characters have as they watch their home burn and hold on to each other.

THAT HUG THOOOOOO: I mean… it’s a very emotional hug while Clarke is crying and Bellamy is distraught™. Enforces that they’re close on a personal, intimate level to newbies and reminds us of that time we all died for the veterans. I’m getting repetitive, but… it looks romantic or at least significant if you don’t know the story. And it’s overplayed and followed by Clarke saying the line “You have such a big heart Bellamy.” Like, um excuse me that shit is cut to look romantic as all hell. “Big heart,” my gawd how obvious are they trying to be. Showing her hugging him emo af while she’s gushing about how caring he is…. And it’s immediately followed by…

“If anything happens to me-” “NOTHING IS HAPPENING TO YOU.”: Pal… In general narratives “If something happens to me…” is usually followed by a confession or an implied confession of something important, usually feeeeeeeelings. And then Bellamy’s absolute refusal of anything happening to her. This comes across the same to both veteran viewers and the newbies. It’s a guy blantanly just refusing the idea of anything bad happening to someone he cares about. Again with the ROMANTIC SUBTEXT YALL. It’s intimate and emotionally charged as heeeelllllllllllll.

“May we meet again”: Ok yo this one is more important that it seems. Like it’s the tearjerking, heart breaking moment that Bellamy’s basically saying goodbye to Clarke. We see, and hear, how Clarke sacrificed herself to save her friends and then immediately we get Bellamy’s fucking sad af heartbroken reaction to leaving her behind. The editors of this were literally screaming “THEY ARE IMPORTANT TO EACHOTHER” through this whole thing, but then they wrap it up by showing him pretty much saying bye and leaving her behind and being completely torn up about it. oh my gawd this sizzle reel was genius.

And just a repeat, Bellamy is the only character mentioned by name in the narration, he’s the only on portrayed as having a significant connection to Clarke (there were no scenes between her and anyone else, exclusively, besides the brief clip of L… interesting…), he has more scenes with spoken lines than anyone else, everyone blarke moment shown was a very personal moment in their relationship development, and the romantic subtext is the bomb dot com.

I’d say go rewatch the video ( x ) and look at it as someone who knows nothing about the show and then think about how Bellarke comes off to you or how their scenes are staged and cut together because it’s wild when you really get at it.

Sorry this is literally a novel, I just have a lot of Bellarke feelings tonight and I’m emo af and the sizzle reel still has me shooketh. I hope this is at least enlightening!

[thesecretheadteacher]

Bullying

I make no apology for the length of this entry as the topic of bullying is a very emotive one. Where it occurs, it can be such a damaging and destructive set of actions, leaving the victims upset, hurt or, in a few cases, contemplating or going through with attempts at suicide. It is probably one of the biggest fears parents have for their child whilst at school and also something they feel unable to help with.

The scale of bullying: Once again, for those of us who were raised in the 70s and 80s, we are likely to have witnessed or experienced bullying on an industrial scale. These were the days before there was any awareness or acceptance of difference: the closest anyone got to neurodiversity back then would be if it was the name of a new wave pop group. Anyone with autism, ADHD or any other, fairly common, condition, was just seen as a ‘weirdo’, anyone who was slightly effeminate, or merely kind was ‘gay’ and anyone whose skin colour was darker than you would expect from a 2 week holiday in Skegness, was a N word or the Asian P word. These were just the verbal bullying, of course there was also the physical bullying, I think I was lucky to get through these years with both testicles intact, as they were treated like mosquitos – someone always looking to swat, flick, kick, stamp, punch or knee them, and the resulting excruciating pain provided the watching group with the highest form of hilarity. I guess it was probably different for girls. Fortunately, such sustained and ongoing bullying is very rare and, though parents should be vigilant, in the vast majority of cases, it is something that can be dealt with very easily and effectively by the school.

What is Bullying?: The key starting point for tackling bullying is knowing what bullying is. Most parents will be using their own experiences, possibly from school, but more likely form the media: whether that was watching Gripper Stebson with his 1950s teddy boy style, grabbing various Grange Hill characters by the throat as part of his dinner money pyramid scheme, through to Nelson Muntz giving Bart a wedgie on the Simpsons. Or maybe from stories or videos, some truly horrific, of young people being set upon and beaten up by groups of kids. None of these, however, help to clarify what bullying is.

There is no legal definition of bullying in the UK but, in a school context most would view it as ‘repeated behaviour which is intended to hurt someone either emotionally or physically, and is often aimed at certain people because of their race, religion, gender or sexual orientation or any other aspect such as appearance or disability.’

As well as knowing what it is, it is important to know what it isn’t, because there are many things that rather than having a negative impact upon our children, are actually valuable and important learning episodes (I can hear myself morphing into Oprah here):

-        Falling out with each other – this happens and is an important part of their development into adulthood to deal with conflict with others. Unfortunately, far too many parents see this as bullying because their child might be upset as a result of it.

-        Day to day rough and tumble – this particularly applies to boys as they grow up. There is some good science around the importance of ‘horseplay’ (Fry, D. P. (2005). Rough and tumble social play in humans / Pellis, S. M., & Pellis, V. C. (2012). Rough-and-tumble play: Training and using the social brain). Think of it like young animals that jump and climb and wrestle and fight. Having done thousands of break and lunch duties, I am very familiar with what is horse play and what is a bit more serious – the basic guide being are they all having fun, it is very easy to see if someone isn’t or if one individual is being targeted – that is where we step in.

-        A one-off omission: for example not being invited to something outside of school.

-        Not liking someone: we cannot make pupils like each other. This is another important learning point to help in growing up. I am sure we all have people in our own lives that we don’t like, but through our adolescent development, we have learned how to deal with that.

-        Arguments: these happen all the time, as anyone who has been married will testify.

-        A single act of telling a joke about someone. We have all been the butt of a joke at some point - usually funny for others, less so for us.

Of course if any of these things become repeated or several of them happen towards the same child, then yes this would then constitute bullying.

How to deal with bullying: this is what most parents want to know and is the point at which some parents go horribly wrong. So here is my step by step guide:

1.      The most important thing is that the child tells someone. Staff in school are usually excellent at spotting things going on – I have lost count of the number of times I have been on duty and, amidst the mass of humanity that makes up lunch time, spotted a child looking a bit down, on their own or upset.

2.      Watch out for changes in your child: mood swings, sudden aggression, withdrawal from family life (though take care as these are also the default setting for most teenagers.)

3.      If your child can’t talk about it, get them to write it down.

4.      If it involves social media, which increasingly it does, switch it off – delete the apps and don’t engage.

5.      NOW CONTACT THE SCHOOL. I have put this in caps because this is the most important thing. Having discovered you think your child is being bullied, you will be feeling angry, shocked, protective, aggressive and maybe even feel you have failed your child. This heady concoction of feelings is not a good place from which to start to address the issue.

6.      Work with the school: the vast majority of schools deal with these things on an almost daily basis. They know the other children, they see the interactions, they know the parents of the other child or children. They care deeply about your child and the other children and they will do what they feel is best.

7.      If things don’t get any better, then escalate the matter within the school – schools are hierarchical and above a form tutor is a head of year, above them a member of the Senior Leadership Team and above them the headteacher.

How not to deal with bullying: the steps above should lead to the matter being resolved and your child returning to their usual happy, or at least apathetic, experience of school. However, I have had plenty of first-hand experience of parents who decide to handle the matter differently – none of these led to a better outcome than following my advice, and some led to far more serious outcomes for them.

-        Don’t start the discussion off by being abusive or threatening the school for ‘failing your child’. Venting your anger on a poor receptionist won’t make the wheels move faster.

-        Don’t start at the top. I have had many examples of parents contacting me directly, as headteacher, to deal with a falling out between two pupils. Though I have decades of pastoral experience, there are far more appropriate people to look into the matter. It isn’t that I don’t care, but the school and education system wouldn’t really be getting its money’s worth out of me if I spend 6 hours a day in ‘circle time’ with Year 7 girls who have fallen out.

-        Don’t go above the top. On a number of occasions I have had parents decide that, rather than inform the school, they think the matter would be resolved quicker by going above the school to the Local Authority, Ofsted, The Diocese, local MP, Parish Priest, the press, the Pope or anyone else they could think of. Needless to say, none of these people are really in a good position to unravel the reasoning behind why Sally didn’t invite your Bethany to Cineworld last week.

-        Don’t encourage your child to take matters into their own hands. “I’m sorry Sir but I have told him, if anyone says anything to you, you just punch them” or “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t tell your son to hit them if they say anything.” Well-meaning as this advice from some parents is, it isn’t really great preparation for the world of work. For that day when little Billy grows up, gets his job in middle management and has a falling out with Steve from accounts and decides a good right hook might progress things. So unless you have grand plans for your child to move into the gangland underworld, it really isn’t good advice.

-        Don’t take matters into your own hands with the parents. Often when parents raise a concern about another child bullying their own child, they will want to meet with the other parents. Nearly all schools will avoid doing this, not because we are being obstructive, but because a) the parents (usually) aren’t the people who have fallen out and b) both sets of parents will have only heard their own child’s version of events and will be overly protective. It doesn’t work. Likewise contacting the other parents by text, social media or be going round to the house – all of these are like trying to put a fire out armed with aerosols and petrol. I have witnessed parents going for each other outside the school gate, or picked up the pieces afterwards when one or more parents have been charged with assault.

-        Don’t take matters into your own hands with the child. No matter what you have been told about the other child, they are still that, a child. I have known many occasions where a parent has approached a child directly to ‘warn them off’ like some sort of mafia enforcer. Now I don’t know how they have thought it would play out in real life, but the reality is usually that the child is with some friends, feels like they can’t lose face and so rather than say “Yes of course Mrs T, it was wring of me to behave like that towards your little Mickey, it won’t happen again, take care.” It ends up more “Who are you talking to? Get away you Pedo. I didn’t do anything. F*&k Off, I am going to get my dad on to you.” To be fair this approach does often end the initial bullying and is replaced by family warfare, police action and lawyer involvement.

Don’t arrange a ‘settler’. This is where both sets of parents arrange for the children to meet up and have a settler (a fight to resolve things). For many of you reading this, the very thought would be horrific, but for some of the communities I have worked in, this is the ‘honourable’ way to do things. I have known parents set up times / places for the fight, have rules around not jumping in and even drive their children to the event, like an evening at a Justin Bieber concert. This is not just for boys, I have known it happen with girls too and heard a child describe how her dad had watched her get knocked all over the place then afterwards suggest that the matter was no closed.

[queenlua]

cool stuff i noticed while rereading the script of Inception

I wasn't planning to write this all tonight, but uh, I really love inception y'all.

NOLAN’S WRITERLY FLAWS

Here's a lengthy bit from the original script, which got cut from the movie:

MILES Everybody dreams, Cobb. Architects are supposed to make those dreams real.

COBB That's not what you used to say. You told me that in the real world I'd be building attic conversions and gas stations. You said that if I mastered the dream-share I'd have a whole new way of creating and showing people my creations. You told me it would free me.

Miles looks at Cobb, sad.

MILES And I'm sorry. I was wrong.

COBB No, you weren't. Your vision was a vision of pure creativity. It's where we took it that was wrong.

It's a rare glimpse into a side of Cobb we don't really see in the movie—young, drawn to the idea of pure creation, to all the beautiful high-minded concepts behind this dream-sharing business. You can almost feel Nolan himself, giddy, beneath this—as a creator that's got to be one of the coolest parts of this whole idea of dream-sharing; hell, when I first saw this move in The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Ten, I went straight home and started writing some fanfiction, not about any of the characters, but about the intensity of feeling behind sharing dreams, what it would mean to create in that way—

—and it was totally right not to stick it in the film, because though Inception is a beautiful film with beautiful ideas, it's a heist movie at heart, and it has to focus on the pragmatic while giving the lofty beauty of it all a sly wink. The "youthful idealist architect Cobb" only comes across in subtext—a slight lightness in his step during his training sessions with Ariadne, maybe a bit when musing over what would draw the intense and beautiful Mal to him.

Here's another bit—from the scene when Cobb is having his final confrontation with Mal, and she's trying to convince him to stay in limbo with her. I italicized / surrounded with asterisks the bit that got cut:

MAL So certain of your world. Of what's real. Do you think he is- (points at Cobb) Or do you think he's as lost as I was?

COBB I know what's real.

***MAL What are the distinguishing characteristics of a dream? Mutable laws of physics? Tell that to the quantum physicists. Reappearance of the dead? What about heaven and hell? Persecution of the dreamer, the creator, the messiah? They crucified Christ, didn't they?***

COBB I know what's real.

MAL No creeping doubts? Not feeling persecuted, Dom? Chased around the globe by anonymous corporations and police forces? The way the projections persecute the dreamer?

Gosh, that line is just... what? We have this super-emotionally-charged moment, the make-it-or-break-it for Cobb to wrest his way from Mal's grasp, and we're throwing in random references to quantum physics and Christiainty??? It made the cutting board, as it should have.

But what I like about these lines is that they show us Nolan's rough edges—and it's Nolan the goddamn nerd, who loved Star Wars as a kid and talked about The Matrix a lot when talking about this movie and, based on his writing style, I honestly suspect is a little bit of a closet anime nerd. This is a guy who's really jazzed about ideas, who veers on the side of babbling too much about a beloved topic, or just reaaaaally wants that physics reference in there because of the cool parallels with the other ideas. I love it.

He also tends to add awkward touches of melodrama when left to his own devices. A line like "I performed [inception] on my wife and reaped the bitter rewards" gets transformed, with Leo's quiet humanity, into "I knew inception was possible because I did it to her first." Which gets a little into "what the actors brought to the movie", which I'll get into later.

I have a pet theory that what draws people to, say, a favorite author, or a favorite filmographer, is a love for both what they do well and their flaws. I was struck by this when reading a review of the Sea of Fertility tetraology, by my favorite author, and found myself basically agreeing with the review—the only difference was, the shit that drove the reviewer crazy were the things that gripped me in weird ways, that I recognized as flawed but still enjoyed warmly. Mishima's writing is melodramatic and Isao comes across as weirdly robotic and his pretenses at intellectualization come across as strained and confused—those were all things that drew me in deeper.

Which is not an argument against editors, and doing the Actual Right Thing; this is stuff that very rightly made the cutting board. But when it's a tough call for what the right way forward is, Nolan goes a little bit dorky, a little bit melodramatic, and those tiny moments are delectable.

MAKING EMOTIONAL SENSE

Something that struck me, when I rewatched Inception this weekend: Cobb's description of inception on Mal doesn't entirely make sense. It's not quite impossible according to the rules of the script, but it intuitively seems like performing inception in limbo is a very different thing than doing it from within a dream. He refers to having built everything in limbo; why would anything in limbo relate to specific parts of one mind? And it seems like it'd be easier to trace the genesis of the idea when you're right there in limbo with them when they do it, I'd think?

The point isn't whether it makes sense or not—I'm sure nerds on the argument could argue either side—but the point is that you don't even question the mechanics of it when it's described, because it made complete emotional sense. All through the movie, we've been getting hints that something terrible happened, some subtle thing Cobb's got stored away—and when we finally see it, with that choice imagery, oh, lifting the little locked-away top in Mal's home and spinning it—makes you say oh, makes you gasp, brings it together.

I went to a talk once by one of the writers of Lost, and he talked about this concept in the context of the episode "The Constant." Basically (as is tragically typical with Lost), a character's gotten his consciousness stuck in some sort of bizarre time loop, he keeps flashing back for longer and longer periods of time, and he's gonna die if he can't cut out this "simultaneously stuck in two time periods" thing. So a physics-y character says that Desmond needs to contact a "constant", something present in both time periods, so he can "stabilize" his mental state, and who does he call but his ex-girlfriend.

Does that make a goddamn lick of sense? No, not really. But the show'd already gotten us incredibly invested in this relationship between Desmond and Penny, they've been hinting for a while that Penny's been desperately looking for Desmond, and Desmond's love for her is really heart-melting, and they're using a science-y word ("a constant! like gravity's a constant, bro!"), and the feeling of something converging is the thing that really carries the moment. Lost pulled this kind of shit a lot, really, and it explains a lot of the divisiveness of the show. Invariably when I talk to people who liked Lost, they're usually watching for character, and freely confess the plot wasn't even trying to make sense after season two but that's so not the point. If you were focusing on the plot, you were doomed to be disappointed.

I want to spend more time thinking about this—how you construct something that makes "emotional sense." Do it wrong and there's just a gaping plot hole or bizarre deus ex machina that's going to irk everyone watching it. And, to be clear, I actually don't think these sorts of scenes work in spite of the vagueness/implausibility, but because of it—the important thing in Cobb's moment of inception is the beautiful resonance of that spinning top, the important thing in that Lost episode is the feeling that somehow, some way, love can be the thing that grounds you and saves you. Maybe that's the answer, really—you have to earn it in some other way. Lost earned it by pouring so much attention into Desmond's backstory, and his love for Penny, and the brief desperate glances we got into her search for him—to the point where we were yearning for a resolution. Inception did it in a more Nolanesque way, with its wonderful, precise control of exactly what is on the screen at all times—leading to a the confluence of motifs coming together all at once. Cobb repeats "an idea is like a virus", we see Mal's house again, we see the top, and the salt-swept shores of Limbo and the pair of them clinging to each other, all coming together at once.

WHAT LEO BROUGHT TO COBB

I get the sense, reading the script, that Cobb was meant to be a more, uh, "edgy"/dark/moody-teenage-protagonist-esque character than he actually became. There's just touches, here and there, in the script. There's a scene where, in the movie, Arthur sympathetically says, "I know how much you want to go home." In the movie, Arthur's posture is closed-off, and he's staring out a window, and says nothing until Arthur talks again. In the script though, Cobb cuts him off with a sharp "No, you don't." Touchy, tetchy.

Or how about this bit:

Cobb GRABS SAITO AND PUTS HIS HEAD TO THE FLOOR, gun pressed into his cheek. Saito looks into Cobb's eyes--sees he will pull the trigger. Saito BLINKS, looks away in shame. When he NOTICES SOMETHING. And starts LAUGHING.

Oh man, Cobb is so tough, making the tough Japanese businessman look away in shame—

—except, in the movie, at this point Cobb's getting totally desperate, and instead of playing it deadly-cool, he's waving a gun and fucking screaming at Saito, "TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW! TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW NOW!", and Saito performs no "look of shame."

The other instances are more slight and tedious to cite, but—there's moments in the script where Cobb was supposed to hold a broody stare, and instead got flustered and cut into the next topic right off, moments when he's giving cocky grins that turn more poker-face-y in the movie.

It gives you an appreciation for really good actor can do, what they're bringing to the movie—the subtle changes of expression, turns of phrase, ways they hold themselves can change so much of the mood and feel of a character. I don't think of Cobb as like, the Greatest Character Ever, but as an anchor for the movie, he's pretty solid and rather unique—not quite cold-and-aloof-tragic-past type, not quite the hard-edged-bristly-loner type—something more mature, more weathered, more adult. He comes across as a touch more cerebral, a touch more intense, and those touches resonate really well with what's a reasonably cerebral and a very intense movie.

EXPOSITION IS HARD

Inception is an exposition-heavy movie.  I remember it all flowing seamlessly when I first watched it, but on re-watches it does feel like a bit much, and sometimes awkward (Arthur explaining the concept of limbo while in a shouting match with Cobb, urgh).

But it's interesting how much more there is that didn't even make it into the movie—tons more slips of awkward exposition that got cut. For instance, in the script verion of Cobb's visit to France, when he's trying to get the professor to get him an architect, there's a whole conversation that lays out the “what happened between Cobb and Mal” alarmingly baladly:

COBB I know. I thought you could talk to Marie about bringing them on vacation. Somewhere I could meet--

MILES Why would she listen to me?

COBB You were married for twenty years.

MILES She blames me as much as you.

COBB Doesn't she understand that my kids need me?

MILES Yes, she does. We all do. Go back and face the music, Dom. Explain what Mal did.

COBB Be realistic, Stephen. They'd never understand− they'd lock me up and throwaway the key. Or worse.

MILES You think what you're doing now is helping your case?

COBB Lawyers don't pay for themselves.

I'm glad that didn't make the movie—we get the sense that something happened, but we don't know Mal did something, and while it's made obvious Cobb can't go back to America due to a crime, he doesn't drop a line like "lock me up and throw away the key" ick, etc.

Perhaps Nolan deliberately wrote in more exposition than necessary, with the idea he could cut it based on what sort of context the actors could imply with their actions? The trickiest thing with writing exposition, I think, is that whole "the writer already knows everything" bit—how do you determine what people need to know, and when, and how, when you've already got the whole picture and the pieces seem so obvious to you? I've received praise on some of my original fantasy writing for executing well on this sort of thing—but (1) I think it's goddamn impossible to do much fantasy/scifi writing at all without gaining chops in this area; it's the central challenge of the genres, and (2) I think it's easier in a prose setting—you can toss in throwaway words and references more easily, adding texture and feel without actually following up on it, whereas a movie is crunched for time and every word/reference/etc usually has to count, materially advancing the plot and the reader's understanding.