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#might continue this if people are interested
evilgwrl · 15 hours
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Super in love with your work it's amazing.
So I had this idea maybe you'd like? Just an idea: Do with it what you will
So reader is a coworker with Simon, and she's like super strong-willed, doesn't take bullshit from anyone type person, good at what she does and knows it, and Simon fucking loves that, loves a woman that can put someone in their place. He thinks it's just respect at first, but one day, he sees her yelling at some recruits and gets so turned on from the sight that he can't think of anything else.
Interested with what you might do with it or how you'd continue it if you decide to write it
Have a nice rest or your day either way
I love this!!
CW: Military inaccuracies, Ghost gets boners for you, sexual tensions and allusions to further smut but nothing graphic
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They called you Hawk due to your impeccable eyesight. You were hard-headed with a vast efficiency to pinpoint a target miles away, your bullet already penetrating the air before others could even see it. You were a quick fit into the Task Force with a shabby sense of humour and ability to take control.
Working in a male-dominated industry should’ve scared you, but it didn’t. You were a whirlwind on your feet, easily able to toggle areas and courses without even a remote struggle. You thrived at what you did, constantly garnering respect from those around you. Maybe that’s why Ghost was so intrigued by you.
He tied it down to a “respect thing”, enjoying that a woman was able to put anyone in their place no matter the size of who she was dealing with. That’s why he was slightly confused at the growing bulge in his cargo pants.
Your face was contorted in frustration, tangled eyebrows furrowed as you yelped commands at a group of soldiers. Your hands were resting on your hips, a scowl on your face as you groaned.
“Private Matthews, did I or did I not say that you should never take your eye off an opponent?”
“You did, ma’am.”
“You will refer to me as Sergeant, private,” you snapped, “Get back in the ring and do it correctly this time.”
Ghost adjusted, turning his attention back to the group of soldiers before him, barking out his own orders, umber eyes occasionally darting over to you, entranced at how simple it was for you to command.
You were seated next to Soap, ass flush on the seat as you grumbled about how idiotic some people were, bragging about how certain you were that you were never there incompetent.
“Aye, lass, can’t all be like you, can we?”
You nudged the Scotsman’s shoulder, offering him a toothy smile as you went on to joke around. Ghost watched you as he approached, looking at the way your eyes were always high, never stooping to the ground with discomfort. You smiled as the Lieutenant joined you, missing the way his eyes racked over you.
“Bonnie here was just saying she could easily tackle you in a shuttle run, LT,” Soap joshed, earning you an eye roll.
“That so?” Ghost’s voice was naturally loud, a deep husk protruding from every word as he looked at you. You shrugged, tossing him a teasing smirk.
“Won’t know until we find out, will we Lieutenant?”
Ghost could feel himself straining again, pants tightening at your display of confidence before you excused yourself, muttering about hitting the gym to wear you out. Ghost was quick to follow, scoffing down the remainder of his food and rushing out a goodbye before heavy feet were trailing behind you.
You were clad in a loose pair of gym shorts, a well-fitted green singlet sporting against your skin as gloved fists pummelled a punching bag. You were quick, feet skidding against the ground as you huffed out shallow breaths.
“You have good form,” Ghost spoke, clearing his throat.
You turned around, hair swishing in a messy pony as you looked at him, brow raised, “Did you doubt me, Lieutenant?”
“Unsure. Never sparred with you, ‘ave I, Hawk?”
“You asking to spar with me, Ghost?”
He rolled his eyes as you walked up to him, a cocky smirk on your face as you got into position. You were both quick, entangled limbs battering against one another as you both ducked, blurting out expletives as your clothes moulded with trickles of sweat.
Ghost was practically mesmerised by the way you moved, somehow making sparring look elegant. The Lieutenant knocked you to your feet, your body crashing onto the ground with a slam as you groaned, staring up at him with irked eyes.
“Didn’t anyone warn you to take it easy on a lady?” You miffed; your face contorted with annoyance as you glared at him.
Ghost frowned slightly, taking in your pained expression before he was knocked between the ankles, joining you on the ground as you giggled out a laugh, clambering on top of him with a finger gun pointed to his head.
“Shouldn’t underestimate your opponents, LT, no matter how annoyed they look.”
Ghost let out a grunt as he flipped the two of you over, your hands pinned above your head. “Never underestimated you, sweet’art.”
Your bodies radiated heat, thick smog of tension pummelling into the atmosphere as your eyes interlocked. You licked your lip, forehead wet with salty moisture as you maintained composure.
“You gonna keep me like this all night, Lieutenant?” Your tone was sultry, wringing him in with every syllable as he pressed against you, growing bulge prominent against your clothed sex as you glanced down.
“Thinking about it.”
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tarotofhope · 2 days
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PAC: 【What do your parents think about you & Why ?】
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
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Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
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𖨆 Pile 1
Cards: Death, 3 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 8 of Cups, Strength, Queen of Wands, 4 of Cups, The World, 9 of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. There's a lot of heavy energy in this pile because there are two 8s in the cards. For some of the audience reading this pile, Either, both of your parents/one of your parents could have passed away when you were very young and you had to live with your relatives or in foster homes. For some of you, even if your parents were alive, they could've been so busy that they left you under the care of other people most of your childhood and teen age. For the remaining audience, I'm getting that even if both of your parents were alive and not so busy, they were very over-protective, over-bearing and strict, so you never opened up to them, you kept your thoughts to yourself and they never got to know you very well. All in all, whoever took your custody, didn't do their job well. You got sick and tired of them, and you've always been looking for a listening ear and comfort in the outside world. You've been waiting for someone to truly understand you and love your soul, someone who doesn't tie you up(not in a literal sense, iykyk) just because they're concerned about your safety, someone who respects your right to freedom. You might have left your guardian/parents behind and went out on your own journey to discover yourself, embracing your independence. It took a lot of courage and strength to do this, but you did it anyway. You might have faced a few major ups and downs in your life as a result of which you became mature much faster than your peers. You're much stronger now and you'll continue to be so. Your journey is from hardships to finally becoming The Queen of Wands. You might have good judgement of people and their intentions. Your parents/guardian might say that they were protecting you from harm all this time, that's why they were strict with you, they want your best and so on..but in reality, you know that wasn't required, what they actually did was messed you up. For some of you, they could be keeping you from going far away from them, because now they expect you to take care of them. They're not allowing you to grow and be your own person. Now, see, people from different countries will have different outlook on this. Indeed, old people need care but keeping a young person trapped and not letting them have a life of their own is not right. Raising children with the intention of getting something in return during oldage, is outright selfish.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 2
Cards: The Hierophant, The King of Pentacles, The Sun, 8 of Wands Rev. clarified by The World, The Fool clarified by Ace of Pentacles, Ace of Cups clarified by 2 of Pentacles, Queen of Swords.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You guys along with pile 1 are my brave and bold people, I must say. Great leadership qualities you've got. Even your parents think so. They just think that you don't realize this, they think that you're not aware of your full potential and you're not quite out there as you should be in order to become a successful person. They think you're also very demanding of them and you don't understand the value of money. They also know that you're religious or traditional in a way but you make your own rules when it comes to you. They know you'd do very well when you'll be in a position to lead a group of people. I can see 2 scenarios here, few of you could themselves be facing a hard time in love, struggling a lot, while others of you could be giving a hard time to people who are in love with you/romantically interested in you, such as rejecting proposals, having commitment issues, intentionally or unintentionally breaking other people's heart. You are more ambitious and goal oriented and interested in focusing on your career rather than love. Your parents can sense this, whether you talk about these issues or not. You seem like a very practical and rational person to your parents and so you're not verbal about how much you love them, you're a person of actions. Your love language could be acts of service or gift giving. They also think that you believe in yourself so much that nobody can bring you down. Yet there is this issue that you somehow do not realize the amount of power you hold, that you have the ability to achieve big things in life. Your parents already see you as the King of Pentacles, The Hierophant, but they think you're not working up to it whether they've ever said this to you or not.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 3
Cards: 3 of Pentacles, Temperance, 2 of Swords clarified by The Moon, 4 of Wands, 2 of Wands, 3 of Wands, Ace of Swords, High Priestess, Queen of Pentacles.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. Your parents think that you're very mature and you can also give good advice to people. They think you're quite sensible and philosophically, you're very open minded but when it comes to being sure of your own life, you get very confused. You might be torn between choosing your career and settling down. You don't know how to balance both. You're confused about what could come upon you if you do both the things. Currently, you could be more focused on your career, you might be wanting to achieve stability in your career first or you have a set target of achieving something specific in regards to your professional life. As far as your love life is concerned, whatever your relationship status might be, you seem heavily confused because you're afraid that your love life might interfere with your professional life. Your parents are very concerned about this because they want you to have more clarity in life and they want you to arrive at a proper conclusion. They might be trying to give you advice on this, but you're still confused and want to be left alone to decide for yourself on such significant matters of your life. Some of you might be into long distance relationships and so you're even more confused while some of you want to travel abroad for work and settle there. A few of you might even be waiting for your visa or if you're already abroad, you might be waiting for your citizenship. I'm also seeing lot of arguments here, between you and your parents. Your parents might be traditional and they might want you to have a traditional approach to life too. They want you to become responsible in life. You might want to travel the world or enjoy your life your way no matter how messed up it may look like to others. You don't want to have regrets later on in life. Your parents think you're not clear-headed though you seem so put together, they think you're so much internally balanced but you're not using your inner guidance in this matter.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 4
Cards: 9 of Cups, Page of Pentacles, The Hierophant, Queen of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles clarified by Justice, The Sun, The Tower, King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles and 4 of Cups.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Your parents think you're very lazy. You could belong to an upper middle class family or a financially well off family. They think you've been fortunate enough to have everything you demand available to you within no time. They think they've spoiled you but they still love you so much. Some of you could be an only child. Some of you could've started your own business or joined your family business. They know you're someone who wouldn't like to work under anyone, you would want your own thing. Your parents know that you're very talented but you don't do anything about it or you don't extract the full advantage out of it. They believe you can show the world how talented you are, that you are your own individual person, unique and full of potential despite coming from a wealthy family. They don't want the world to tell you later on that you didn't achieve anything on your own. You could have also inherited a lot of ancestral property or wealth. You want to continue having this kind of life in your future too but you're not working hard enough for it. You might also be very young at heart or very childish. You like to be spoon fed or you want others to do your work for you. Your parents might also have this fear that, if you don't learn your lessons by yourself, life will find out other ways to teach you and then that would put you in a tough situation and you wouldn't like it, you might have to learn the hard way then. That's why they want you to work hard for yourself and your future. You might also have too many friends, too many people who might not even be your well wishers. Your parents(even your guides) want you to choose wisely. You need to focus on yourself and that can be done only when you'll be in solitude. You need to observe more and be more connected with yourself.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 5
Cards: Justice, 4 of Swords, 4 of Cups, The Hanged Man, 6 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, The Empress, 9 of Cups Rev, The Tower and The Emperor.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. Your parents think that you're unbiased and fair. You don't do things to show off or to impress anyone. You'll let people hate you for the things you do, which you think is right in your heart. Even your parents could be a little irked by how you defend yourself and others because they think you're arguing when you're just putting your point across. They think you're the quiet, calm and lonely child of your house. You not only like your solitude but you thrive in it. You function best when you're left alone, they think. They know you're also the one who hates conflicts but would start a fight if you're being wronged. They also think you're emotionally very sensitive and would go out of your way to help others. Your parents also want you to let go of the past and the things that hurt you, because you get yourself stuck in the sorrow and hurt and then you just don't budge, you don't move on. It takes a lot for you to get out of an emotional turmoil. They like how you're happy with your own self but they also want you to get out of your comfort zone and be out there more, make friends, talk more, socialize more. Maybe you have a very few friends or no friends at all. They think you'll succeed in your life if you go out and travel more because they think you also lack confidence and boldness. They think you're also very protective of them, very caring and family oriented. They want you to become strong because you might have faced a lot of difficulties earlier and you still appear very naive and weak to them(for a few of you, your parents or others might even tease you for appearing naive and weak) but I think you have a lot of inner strength, pile 5, which the world doesn't see. They think you're the disciplined and obedient child. They know you'll stick to them in tough times but some of your parents might even be taking advantage of you. They also think that you're not smart and clever enough to understand tricky situations/people, you may or may not be so.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
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rekino2114 · 3 days
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Would you do domestic headcanons with fem sukuna and reader as parents
Fem. Sukuna and you as parents
A/n:Thank you for requesting this, soft villains give me life energy
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Sukuna did not want a child and she told you that clearly whenever you showed interest in it, she didn't want to deal with the burden of having to take care of a human being, not to mention what an eventual pregnancy might have done to her fighting prowess, it was much better to just stay only with you for eternity.
That was until she started noticing something. Whenever you two were walking around other people, the mothers always hugged their children in hopes of protecting them, she thought it was foolish. If she truly wanted to kill them, then their parent's protection would have done nothing to shield them, so then why did they do it?
Did they love their child so much that they were willing to do any possible thing to keep them safe and alive even when they knew it wouldn't work?.....even throw away their own life. Sukuna's parents had never given her any kind of love, and as such, she couldn't understand why mothers would do that. Why did they not run? Why were they willing to do that? She was truly confused
Sukuna watched from afar as mothers hugged their children as they smiled when they spoke, as they gave them soft praise and affection whenever they listened....was this true love? She could see it in those women's eyes they felt very similar to how she felt around you it was love that she had never received as a child herself
She eventually realized that she wanted to be like those women. She wanted to have a child, maybe because of a subconscious wish to fix her own mother's mistakes in raising her or maybe because she wanted the gratification of raising someone who could continue her bloodline, nevertheless one night while you were in bed together she told you her desires and you agreed giving her what she wanted right there and then.
In general, sukuna is......not the best mom. She takes a rather...spartan approach to parenting, raising your child to be a fighter more than a person, but thankfully, she has you to fix that, reminding her to show her love to them which was unusual at first but as she got used to it she took quite a liking to it, hugging your child tightly with her four arms as she did to you often made her heart flutter and feel nice in a way she thought only you were capable of.
She often just leaves uraume in charge of taking care of your child. They always cook for all of you anyway and are actually quite good with children. You always help them whenever you can, especially when sukuna is outside, probably fighting, if she isn't though then you practically force her to take care of your kid, it's not that she doesn't want to she's just kinda bad at it.
While she may call them brat a lot and be mad at them when they lose a fight, you can still see she's genuinely trying her best to be a good mom, giving them affection and smiling with genuine happiness whenever around them (you should have seen her when they said mom for the first time, she swear she didn't cry but her four swollen eyes say otherwise) she loves your child as much as she loves you and she wishes nothing but to make them as strong as she is while still making sure they have a good upbringing and life.
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sneppu · 22 hours
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The Reasons Why Severus Snape is Secretly a Cat, Actually.
I'm saying he's a neglected and abused stray little black cat and here is why
He's very meow meow. VERY kitten.
Black cats are vilified and assumed by some to be evil. Coincidentally, both of these things happen to Snape as well.
Difficult to befriend. Cats are already picky about who they like, and Cats who have had it rough are even more difficult. One cannot just waltz up to a cat like that expect friendliness, or even indifference for that matter.
Extremely bad, no good, very bad luck with dogs. Seriously, the man MUST have dog trauma by now. Werewolves? Sirius, one of his biggest haters and tormentors, a dog animagus? even Fluffy mauling his leg?? The first two were marauders, yes, but that's not a good thing when it comes to Snape. (not all dogs and cats dont get along, but its certainly interesting. Personally, I headcanon him as a definite cat person who has a bad associations with dogs but thats a whole other post.)
Very hissy and snarly and unpleasant when threatened - and sometimes, even when YOU think there's no apparent threat! This is premium Gato™ Behavior. An abused little shelter cat, horribly unsocialized, becoming hyper defensive anytime anything happens to him, even if the thing that is happening is kind.
it fits with the idea that hes "mean for no reason" because there IS a reason - cats are complicated little guys! Where you see a nonissue, He might see a threat. Where you see kindness, he might see mockery. Where you see playfulness he might see cruelty, and so on. After all, he's been on the receiving end of it all too often.
Cats like this usually end up stuck in shelters - not a home - because no one will take them. They're too offputting, they're too mean, they're too much trouble. One could argue that Hogwarts itself IS that shelter in this scenario; a place to be, but not a home. Not really.
Worth noting: maybe to Harry, Hogwarts can be considered a sort-of Home, but he actually found kindness and friends there. Severus lost his only friend and was tormented there. Better than his incredibly shitty situation with his family? Certainly! but Shelters often are.
SWM fits as well; A moment of extreme distress from being humiliated, afraid, and overwhelmed? all those jeering laughing faces while he is vulnerable and unsafe, defenseless at the hands of people who have continuously hurt him for years?? and to see and know that his friend - his BEST friend - the only friend; the only PERSON, he has, is there holding back a smile as it is happening too? Have you ever met a cat in distress? of course he lashed out. It's honestly astounding that he didnt lash out MORE.
and while on the subject of SWM, him lashing out at Lily applies here too. A cornered, distressed cat (especially one with a history of abuse) sees everything as a threat , even people it is normally friendly to, if it's distressed enough. Have you tried to bathe a cat? or maybe tried to coax one to get into a cat carrier for the vet? these things are very difficult but manageable at the best of times but "vulnerable, afraid, humiliated, and threatened" are NOT the best of times, I fear.
it even works with his occlumency and the way he deals with vulnerability as well. Cats, when in pain, do their best to hide that pain. This is because to be outwardly hurt is to be vulnerable, and that can lead to predation by bigger animals. Severus too, hides his vulnerability. The things that truly matter to him, his worries, his soft and squishy bits, and loyalties all carefully locked away.
Rivalry with Minerva?? that's just good ol' unserious cat drama. Have u ever seen an indoor cat staring down a stray through the window? silly little creatures. They'll grumble about it and act like its on sight (and maybe it is!) but when you're not looking, there'll be sniffing through the glass and pretending they dont care while they nap suspiciously close by.
Starved for affection and touch. An abused stray, past all the hissing and the fear and violence, once they're finally given a chance and finally understand that they are safe, just wants to be loved. They usually end up being the most affectionate and loyal cats of all! only to those they feel safe with, of course.
And speaking of loyalty, that applies here too. He was loyal to Lily, the first and only person to show him kindness (though my feelings for her are very complicated) and he was later loyal to Dumbledore. Unfortunately, neither of these people ever truly took in the stray, not really. And so the Stray was never actually socialized, and never completely safe, and never actually given a home.
and finally.. his death. Cats have a tendency to hide when nearing death, or dying.. and as such, often die in solitude. Severus may not have exactly had a direct hand in this of course, but.. there's something about him dying in this shitty little shack, far away from the action, presumably alone (or so he thought until Harry and his friends materialized out of nowhere under the cloak.). He wasn't actually alone in his actual final moments, but in the time leading up to it? Very lonely.
In a way, one could say that Lily came closest to adopting the stray Sev cat. And maybe she would have! maybe she wanted to take in the stray at one point - had planned to, even! But her friends told her he was dirty and gross, "who knows where that things been! he's probably diseased". and The marauders kept tormenting him, making him increasingly defensive and hissy and violent, as cats often are in that situation and then it was also "look how cruel and mean he is! he'll only hurt you". and maybe when the time finally came and that defensiveness finally WAS aimed at her it only confirmed what she had already begun to believe. And then she decided she wasnt a cat person after all. Who knows? One could make an argument for all of that. Do i see things that way? maybe, maybe not. My feelings toward every character who is not Snape are largely indifferent for the most part.
Verdict: Severus Snape is a Cat. He is a little kitten meow meow. Give this man a little cauldron to curl up in asap
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inqilabi · 17 hours
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Another thing that I have observed over the years is that, not a lot of people are good at relationships. As in they don't know the fundamentals of a good relationship. And with that it follows, that for some people this comes naturally. And for some people this is learned.
A lot of people don't seem to be good at communicating in relationships. Meaning that they will let a thing that bothered them fester until it grows into resentment. And they bring it up once the resentment is bubbling. And obviously, because it's pent up, when do they do bring it up, it's in an explosive manner.
So everyone at some point learns that relationships are about communication. And they tell you this wisdom. But no one actually gives you the details and the formula
Communication is about
1) frequency. So don't let this fester. Bring it up right away
2) type of communication. So positive and the negative. Ie., things that are working but also not working. The positive communication will be, "oh I loved [action], because [what it made you feel]. You are so [the unique attribute about your partner that led to this behaviour]". This is what is going to build connection regularly. Regularly appreciating your partner. And not just in a generic manner. But in an instance specific manner.
Or in the negative "when the [situation/issue], it makes me [feeling], and if this continues to happen i will [feel/consequences]". It doesn't attack the partner and views them an opportunity to rise to meet your needs. And focuses instead on the situation / issue and the effect on you. This is what will maintain the relationship. Prevent it from going down.
3) manner of communication. You should never say "you always do this" "you never do this". That is not an productive way of conveying concern to your partner. That is just attacking them as mentioned in point #2. The person who is being addressed also should listen and not get defensive or criticism. If one person has legitimately brought up a concern, and the other person says "no i don't do that " or "it's not that big of a deal" or "well you did this [unrelated other thing so long ago]", this is a cause for concern. Men often do the latter and imo it's a red flag. A man should be able to listen to your concerns and not feel attacked if you have brought it up in a gentle let's tag-team this issue manner. If a man does get defensive or start criticizing you instead, he has an ego or insecurity problem. Thats one of the things that will chip away at a relationship. Is defensiveness and criticism.
There's other things that maintain relationships like taking interest in your partners interest, when they ask you to look at something or share something with you - then you should take interest. There's many people who might ignore it or outright dismiss it (chips away) or some might simply acknowledge it (maintains), where are some might take an interest and ask you questions on the thing youve shared. Ask you where you learned about it. What you found interesting about it. How it made you feel etc (builds relationships).
Some years ago I wrote a post, which I can't find now. But I found it so surprising in couples that I had observed that a man would so often dismiss his partners attempt to connect. I remember the instance I noticed this - I was at a desi Eid bazaar. And a woman came to her husband who was sitting with their child, giddily told him that she had haggled the price of a cloth down by 20 dollars. And instead of being proud of her and appreciating her, he said something along the lines of "you could have gotten it for 30 off". And I saw the joy disappear from her face. And he chipped away willingly. So bewildering to me that you have an opportunity to connect and build, so easily handed to you - and in so many couples, they reject it. It's like someone offering you a couple of dollars for free in a long-term investment, and you're like - nah thanks I'm good. Maddening!
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cosmicjoke · 2 days
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Levi is What Historia Pretended to Be
One of the things that the fairly prevalent claims I see about Levi "forcing" Historia to become Queen, or "forcing" her to accept eating Zeke, or just the general complaints I see about how Levi "treated" Historia, gets me to thinking is how Levi is everything Historia only pretended to be.
When we first meet Historia, she's going by the name Krista, and she presents a personality and image which, on its surface, appears to be exceptionally selfless and compassionate. She's constantly asking after others, going out of her way to inquire as to their well-being, standing up for them and seemingly sacrificing her own comfort and self-interest to their benefit. But, in the same way we eventually learn that Krista isn't her real name, we also come to find that Historia's personality is just as much a facade as her false name. We get our first exposure of the selfish and self-serving girl underneath during the scene between her and Ymir, during their training exercise through the mountains in winter, when Ymir calls Historia out for her secretly selfish behavior. Historia tells Ymir to go ahead by herself to base camp, while she carries Daz by herself, and Ymir points out that if Historia really wanted to save Daz, she would have asked Ymir for help, since Ymir was stronger, and thus had a greater chance of saving Daz than herself. But she doesn't ask for help, because she wants Ymir to tell people about about her selfless, final act, sacrificing her life to save another's. Here we see exposed for the first time Historia's willingness to sacrifice others for her own, selfish gain. She pretends to want to save Daz's life, but in reality, she sees him as an acceptable sacrifice for her own glorification.
Of course, this is all wrapped up in Historia's childhood trauma and the feelings of rejection she faced from her mother, tied in with what Frieda told her about how to ingratiate herself to others by being a "good person". But the fact remains, Historia is exceedingly selfish, and we get our first glimpse of that selfishness here. Something that she herself at last admits to in the scene with Eren, in the underground cavern beneath the Reiss family compound. She calls herself "the worst girl in the world" as she finally casts off all pretense in trying to win her family's approval and love, rejecting her father's offer and embracing her own, selfish desires. She tells Eren that she doesn't care if all of humanity perishes, something that we come to realize is foreshadowing, when Historia's selfishness culminates in her standing by and doing nothing to stop Eren's genocidal plans, simply because it allows her to continue living.
I think Historia and Levi are a perfect study in contrast precisely because there are some similarities between the two of them in terms of their childhood's and trauma.
Both experienced abandonment and rejection as children. Historia by her mother, Levi by Kenny. Both, I think, suffer from fear of abandonment and this pervasive sense within them that they were abandoned due to some lacking quality in themselves. We see this with Levi in him questioning Kenny about why he left him, and later, in his comment to Armin about how if he sleep's any longer than he already has, they'll all forget he even exists. We see how both Levi and Historia's sense of self-worth is wrapped up in this idea of being useful to others. How their lives will only be of worth if they're able to somehow be of benefit to others.
But while Historia's abandonment issues manifested in her pretending to be a good and selfless person who, in truth, only "helped" others so long as it benefited her somehow, and who's selfless acts served as cover for her self-serving desire to be accepted and loved, Levi's selflessness was never an act, and his desire to help others was never rooted in some secret scheme to get others to like or accept him. While Levi might feel he's of no worth to others unless he's useful to them in some way, that was never the actual motivation behind his selfless actions, never the motivating drive. I think Levi's low sense of self-worth, in fact, only serves to highlight the genuine quality of his selflessness, because he never uses his actions to win himself praise, even as, surely, he feels bereft of love or acceptance, the same as Historia.
I think this is most clearly demonstrated by the fact that Levi, in sharp contrast to Historia, never engaged in behavior that was designed to ingratiate him to others, and in fact, is markedly the opposite of that, often behaving in ways that serve only to win him people's ire and, at times, even repulses people from him. People see Levi as rude and cold-hearted and without feeling. They see him as uncharismatic and crude, and often display lowly opinions of him, or even disappointment upon meeting him. Zeke even comments on this, accusing Levi of being "unpopular" because of his blunt assertions about what sort of person Zeke is, accusing him of being a "know-it-all". We see other soldiers accuse Levi of being heartless, accuse him of getting other scouts killed, accuse him of being insane and a bad person, and Levi never fights these accusations, never defends himself. He accepts all of this criticism without complaint or personal offense, and without ever trying to convince anyone otherwise about his character. He's never tries to convince anyone he's a good person.
Where Historia had pretty much made an art of ingratiating herself to others, of wearing a mask of humility and generosity and kindness, fooling people into believing her to be all of those things, Levi has never been able to do the same, and further, he never tried, because, unlike Historia, whether he was well-liked or not was never something that mattered to him. It was never the underlying motivation of his selflessness or compassion. It doesn't matter to him what people think of him. What actually matters to him is helping them.
The fundamental difference between the two, then, is that Historia's selflessness was always an act, always a ruse to win her approval and acceptance, whereas Levi's selflessness always just was what it appeared to be. Actual selflessness, acts committed for no reason beyond the benefit they would have for others.
And we see that fundamental difference between the two demonstrated, also, by the fact that Historia is willing to let harm befall others, particularly, other people who never did her any harm or posed her any threat, so long as it benefits her in some way, (i.e. Daz, and the entire human population on earth) while Levi has never been willing to let harm befall anyone for any sort of self-gain, again, particularly, anyone who wasn't already threatening his life or the lives of others, and, in fact, often sacrifices his own well-being for the benefit of others.
It's just amusing to me how often people will criticize Levi for being "mean" to Historia, or how many people make the false claim that Levi forced Historia into any sort of position or burden that she hadn't already committed herself to previously, because Levi is everything Historia only ever pretended to be. He's selfless to an extreme fault, not only not seeking recognition or acknowledgment for his selfless acts, but outright rejecting it when he does receive it (i.e. Erwin trying to thank him for helping capture the Female Titan, Hitch trying to accuse Levi of thinking he's a hero, his disdain for his title as "Humanity's Strongest"). His compassion is such that he'll sacrifice his own comfort and peace of mind if it means easing the burden placed on the shoulders of others (letting Erwin die, giving Petra's patch to Dieter, torturing Sannes, killing for the sake of saving others lives...), his belief in the worth of other people's lives so powerful, that he actively seeks ways to ensure those lives are proven to have value by imbuing their loss with meaning, and is absolutely unable to abide the thought of anyone dying a meaningless death, his care for his comrades so immense, that he would destroy his own body to protect theirs. He has no dreams of his own, but instead dedicates himself fully to the dreams of others, fighting with all his strength toward that end, not to win acceptance or praise, but simply for the fact that he feels it's his obligation to help, a sense of obligation born out of a deep, inborn compassion.
Historia was always purely motivated by people liking her and seeing her as "good", her altruistic behavior and actions designed to garner her that image and acceptance, never out of any, genuine desire to help, and we see that core truth about her eventually manifest in her willingness to let so many innocent people die for her own life.
Levi, by contrast, was always okay with people hating him, with people thinking he's a lunatic or a monster, as long as it meant those same people would be okay, would be protected from having to experience the same horrors he had.
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autistichalsin · 2 days
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Some of you are literally watching the right wing continuously try to expand the definition of "pedophilia" to include "existing around a child while queer," and then agreeing with them when they say pedophiles deserve to be summarily executed.
Not only does this place innocent people in danger of political executions, it also puts children in danger, as most children who are sexually abused have this done by someone close to them, and feelings that they would be responsible for the death of their abuser if they reported leads to lower rates of reporting. It also leads to higher rates of abusers murdering their victims when they're found out because the punishment will be the same anyway.
Part of being on the left is realizing that it's better to let 100 guilty men go free than to wrongly convict one. Another part of being on the left is realizing that one's life is never something others have the right to take away- even the most evil people alive. Yes, that includes mass murderers and rapists and pedophiles. Once you make one group acceptable to kill, you give others a vested interest in defining groups they have prejudice against into that group.
You have to start dealing with the fact that no crime makes one's life forfeit. Not even the worst most depraved and sadistic acts. The worst people alive have rights, and if you can't accept that they deserve them, at least try to accept that it is to your benefit that they retain rights no matter what they're accused of. And if you can't do even that, well... you just might be the kind of person who would cut off your nose to spite your face.
If you want to protect victims, if you want to protect minority groups, you have to realize that sex crimes, or any crimes at all, do not deserve the death penalty. Period.
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dark-frosted-heart · 7 hours
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Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 4/4)
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This is the from the 4th anniversary event.
As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 
(—I didn’t expect this)
Alter!Keith: You don’t even look sleepy.
Emma: You’ll be surprised by how gutsy I can be.
Alter!Keith: So you’re saying you didn’t cry during the fight or when people were hurling insults?
Emma: Well…I wouldn’t say cry, but rather, I’ve gotten so angry I thought I’d explode.
Alter!Keith: Wish I did something about that. Would’ve been interesting to see you rage.
Moonlight dimly lit the room.
Prince Keith was sitting on my bed, staring down at me as I lay on my bed.
The way it felt like he was watching my every move made me so nervous, I wondered if he could hear my heart beating. 
Alter!Keith: … Sorry.
(...For what happened back at the estate, I’m guessing)
(I have a feeling he’s not used to apologizing)
The way he awkwardly looked away was so different from how cold he was toward the nobles. I felt some sort of adoration.
Emma: Just words?
Alter!Keith: Is there something you want?
Emma: I want you to sleep.
Alter!Keith: You’re still worried about these dark circles? Too bad I’m not feeling sleepy.
Emma: You might fall asleep if you just close your eyes.
Alter!Keith: I’m still not done dealing with those people, so there’ll be trouble if he comes to the front. …Well, causing trouble would be convenient for me.
Prince Keith snickered at that and I couldn’t sense his true intentions.
Suddenly, everything that happened today flashed before my eyes.
(Wicked Prince Keith didn’t have any obligation to put so much effort into taking over government affairs and work)
(The reason why he does what he does is for the sake of the nice Prince Keith)
(So much more than I could ever imagine…He only lives for the nice Prince Keith)
(Probably never for himself)
I tried to hold back the tears that started to well up as I continued to think about how he supported the nice Prince Keith all by himself, without anyone being aware.
(I’m frustrated by the fact that I can’t do anything to help, even when I’m right beside him)
(But I don’t want to keep being someone that can’t do anything)
Alter!Keith: Hm?
I sat up on the bed and turned toward him.
I then gently placed my hands over Prince Keith’s ears.
Alter!Keith: What are you doing?
Emma: Warming your ears can help you calm down and relax. There’s too many unpleasant feelings today and I want to make them go away. …Please let me at least do this.
(I want to help lift this burden, even if it’s just for now)
Alter!Keith: …
Prince Keith’s sigh melted into the dimly lit room.
Seeing the somewhat vulnerable look on his face after he released his pent- up emotions loosened the strings tightened around my heart.
Alter!Keith: That guy’s future fiancee sure is softhearted.
Emma: …How did you know?
Alter!Keith: You don’t look like the type to invite someone else to your room when you’re engaged.
A bony finger traced over the engagement ring on my finger that had two jade stones of different colors.
Alter!Keith: If you really are his fiancee in the future… Is that guy finally smiling?
(...This was what he wanted to ask back in the study)
Though he asked nonchalantly, there was an underlying desire in his voice.
Emma: …Yes, he’s smiling. So, so much. Every day, from morning to night, he’ll smile on various occasions. Whenever our eyes meet or we pass by each other, the smiles reach his eyes…Ah, when we made sweets the other day, I got so shy with how much he smiled. It was so cute… And before we sleep—mmph.
Alter!Keith: I didn’t tell you to gush about it.
(Hmm, I was doing that)
I nodded and he removed his hand from my mouth.
Alter!Keith: Well it sounds like he’s happy…else there’d be no point in me being around. … That guy came back.
(Ah…)
Emma: Even you smile just as much as him.
Alter!Keith: Huh…me?
Emma: Of course.
Alter!Keith: What…I didn’t disappear?
(Ah, I thought so)
~~ Flashback ~~
Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.
~~ End flashback ~~
(It’s been on his mind this whole time)
(The way he said it, he assumed he didn’t exist anymore in the future)
Since his very existence was supposed to be impossible, it’s only natural for him to think that way.
(But I don’t want him to assume that)
(I want Prince Keith of the past to know he has a future)
Emma: In the future, I’m engaged to both Prince Keiths. I love you both and you’re both more important to me than anything else.
Alter!Keith: …
Emma: That’s why I don’t want you to think you’re someone that will disappear. I won’t let you think that. I want you to remember that the both of you will be loved by a stubborn, greedy woman.
When I loosely laced my fingers with his, he awkwardly responded back.
It looked like he believed me.
Emma: I’m still new to it, so there’s only so much I can do to help you. But I definitely will become a strong woman who can support you.
Alter!Keith: You’ve already done enough. Actually, I… Your words saved me.
The last time I saw Prince Keith, he looked childish and at peace.
--
(Mmm…I’m in…)
Instead of moonlight, it was sunlight that streamed into the room through the windows. I squinted at the brightness.
When I sat up and looked around, I found myself in Prince Keith’s room.
(Everything that just happened was all a dream)
(It was a pretty realistic dream…my heart still aches a bit)
Alter!Keith: Thought you weren’t in your own room. You were here instead.
Emma: Ah…Prince Keith.
(Oh yeah. I was waiting for him in his room as he finished his official duties)
Alter!Keith: …
(What’s wrong?)
When Prince Keith came into the room, he immediately made his way toward me and sat on the bed.
He awkwardly patted my head.
Alter!Keith: You look like you wanna cry.
Emma: Ah…Well, I was remembering the dream I had.
Alter!Keith: …That so. Then nothing happened to you.
Emma: Sorry for worrying you.
Alter!Keith: Not forgiven.
Emma: Eep!
After nipping my neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist.
The pain in my chest faded away as he patted my back, similar to the way one would when comforting a child.
(Back then and now, Prince Keith’s kindness never changed)
Emma: Um, so your official duties…?
Alter!Keith: I’m done with them.
Emma: You finished pretty early today.
Alter!Keith: More precisely, I put an end to it. Wanted to spend time with you. Since it’s your day off, there’s no point in my working that hard in the first place.
(You say that, but I know you do your job perfectly)
(...So you want to spend time with me?)
Emma: Mnn…
He tilted my chin and captured my lips with his.
It felt a surge of happiness with love from our repeated touches.
We stared at each other and when I kissed him, he pushed me down onto the bed.
(Wicked Prince Keith has things he wants to do for himself now)
(Use his time for himself, and not for the sake of someone else)
Warmth spread in my chest.
(I want this to keep being the norm for him)
With that wish, I hugged my lover tightly.
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nondelphic · 2 days
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thank you so much for 700 followers!! this is so insane to me and i'm so happy people are enjoying my posts.
i know most of you are here for my ""relatable writing posts"" but i also know some of you are interested in who i am, and specifically my writing, so to celebrate hitting 700 followers i thought i'd give you a taste of my writing !! i know i was supposed to tag some ppl but i forgot to write your names down and i can't remember who wanted to be tagged and who didn't 😭😭😭
these are all drafts and i def don't consider myself a great writer, but i think i'm okay at storytelling. regardless, enjoy it for what it is!
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this excerpt is from my first completed draft of "the midnight chase." for context, marley is aroace.
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They sat in silence for a while before Marley shifted towards Lucas. She bit her lip, uncertain of how honest to be. “Lucas?”
He looked at her. “Yeah?”
“You know the party last month? Remember how Elvis kissed me?”
Lucas nodded. Marley averted her gaze, focusing on a path beyond the pond that led to a cliff overlooking the ocean.
“Do you think it’s possible to want that sort of closeness, without wanting it all?” Marley could feel Lucas gaze on her.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Marley sighed and let her gaze drop to her feet. Her shoelaces had come undone.
“I mean, I don’t like Elvis like that, but when he kissed me, I felt… warm inside. Like, it’s not something I crave, but it felt nice regardless.”
Lucas remained silent for a moment. Marley looked up to see his gaze thoughtful as he processed her words. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird were the only sounds filling the silence between them. Marley could feel her heartbeat quicken, wondering if she had said too much, or if Lucas might misunderstand her.
Finally, Lucas sighed softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get what you’re saying, Marley. I think… it’s natural to want closeness, to feel connected to someone, even if it’s not necessarily about romance. It’s human, you know? We all crave that warmth, that feeling of being wanted or cared for, even if it’s just for a moment.”
Marley nodded, relieved that he understood, but still, there was something else she needed to express. She glanced between Lucas and her shoelaces, her senses searching for any sign of judgement or discomfort, but all she saw was patience and a gentle curiosity.
“I guess it just made me question something that’s been nagging me for a long time,” Marley continued, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Like, what if I don’t ever want that kind of connection with someone, but I still want to feel close to people? Is that okay?”
Lucas’s expression softened even more, and he reached out, gently placing a hand on Marley’s shoulder. “Marley, there’s no right or wrong way to feel about these things. You’re allowed to want whatever it is you want—or don’t want. It doesn’t make you any less valid or any less… you.”
Marley let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Lucas. I guess I just needed to hear that.”
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and here's another excerpt that shows a bit more of the story...... kinda.
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As Lucas excused himself to go to the bathroom, Marley looked for Chio. Instead, she ran into Silas.
“Hey,” he said, holding his arm out. “Let’s dance.”
Initially, Marley wanted to say no, but something in Silas’ expression made her do the opposite. She took his arm and he led her to a more secluded part of the dance floor. Marley noticed people staring at them as they walked, not unsurprisingly, considering her and Silas' history.
Silas put a cautious hand on Marley’s back as the song transitioned to a sentimental and slow piano arrangement. 
“You know the map I gave you?” Silas asked. Marley smiled. Yes, the one she and her friends had managed to figure out completely. “Did you solve it?” 
Something in Silas’ expression told Marley he already knew the answer. Did he want help? Had he solved it?
“Yes,” Marley said. Silas nodded, and a smile crept up on his face.
“Me too. Which means… the winner will be determined by who gets to the middle first.”
Marley nodded. “You’re doing it alone?” 
“Yes. I work best alone. I know you’re doing it with your friends.” Something in Marley churned at his answer. It was a typical Silas answer, a simple phrase etched with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Marley had solved it with the help of her friends. He had solved it alone, using only his brains.
“Teamwork is an underappreciated tool,” Marley said, finding herself distancing herself slightly from Silas’ hold on her as they danced.
“Of course. It’s important to be able to work with others. At the end of the day, though, you'll be alone.”
Marley looked into Silas’s eyes, trying to decipher his expression. There was something behind his words, a hint of loneliness perhaps, or maybe a sense of inevitability. She decided to keep the conversation light, not wanting to spoil the mood of the evening.
“Maybe so, but having friends by your side can make a huge difference,” Marley replied, her tone gentle but firm.
Silas nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it feels like relying on others is a weakness.”
Marley shook her head. “It’s not a weakness, Silas. It’s a strength. Knowing when to ask for help, and knowing you can trust those around you, that’s powerful.”
They continued to dance in silence for a few moments, the slow melody wrapping around them. Marley felt a strange mix of empathy and rivalry towards Silas. She understood his drive and his determination, but she also saw the value in the support system she had with her friends.
As the song came to an end, Silas offered her a small smile. “Thank you for the dance, Marley. And for the perspective.”
Marley returned the smile. “Anytime, Silas. Good luck with the challenge.”
“Good luck to you too,” Silas replied, giving her a polite nod before walking away.
Marley watched him go, feeling a mixture of emotions. She was grateful for her friends and the support they provided, but she also understood the weight Silas carried. She hoped that one day he would realize the value of camaraderie.
Lucas returned from the bathroom, a curious look on his face. “Did I miss something?”
Marley laughed, shaking off the remnants of her conversation with Silas. “Just a dance with Silas. Nothing major.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Shall we continue dancing?”
“Absolutely,” Marley said, feeling lighter and more determined than ever.
They returned to the dance floor, joining their friends in the celebration. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and shared moments that Marley knew she would treasure for a long time.
As the night wound down, Marley found herself sitting with Chio and Maya on a bench outside the hall, the cool air in the stone-cladden corridor a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dance floor.
Maya pulled out her phone from under her dress. Marley watched her. “Where did you keep that?”
“Oh, I have all my dressed sewn to include hidden pockets. I hate not being able to carry stuff.”
Chio rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ah, yes, custom sewn gowns with pockets, what a normal and humble thing!”
“It’s not my fault that default dresses don’t come with pockets already,” Maya countered.
“Calling normal dresses ‘default dresses’ is crazy,” Marley snorted. She looked at Chio’s dress. It was a beautifully simple dress with long, wide arms and a simple fabric belt around the waist, in a bright orange colour, contrasting Chio’s blue hair in a seamlessly effortless way.
“To be fair, my dress is also customised,” Chio sighed, smoothing out her skirt, before smirking. “I took it in two centimetres at the waist.”
The three girls burst out into laughter. Maya looked at her phone.
“What time is it?” Chio asked.
“10:45.”
“We should get ready.” Marley said. The Midnight Chase started at midnight, just as the name suggested. And she was not running down the maze in a long dress. Well, she could, she knew multiple people participating who were going directly from the dance to the maze. But they weren’t in it to win it. Marley and her friends were.
Hopefully, Silas would find that working alone is actually the greatest weakness.
Marley had a gnawing feeling that her stance would be proven right.
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HELP i'm so scared y'all are gonna think my writing is trash because LET'S BE FR THIS IS JUST FROM MY FIRST DRAFT!!!! i haven't yet edited these scenes so they're kinda cringe but i wanted to show my main project. i do have different writing styles depending on genre though, and i'm tempted to show some of my comedy writing. it's pretty hilarious, if i may say so myself.
anyway, thank you again for 700 followers. thank you so much. each like, reblog, reply, message, or ask brings me so much happiness. you have no clue how much your interest warms my heart (or maybe you do because you know how social media manipulates our brains and their reward system)
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princess-geek · 2 days
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White Peonies (Part II)
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Book: Desire & Decorum  
Series: Unspoken Desires (Modern Desire & Decorum AU)  
Summary: Another peek into the past, this time to lift the veil on Mary’s life and three generations of fascinating women of the Howard family. (Parte I here)
Main Pairing: Vincent Foredale x Mary Howard.  
Word Count: +/- 7572 words
Rating: General (but with light mentions to adult/violent situations, sickness and death).  
Notes: 💖English is not my first language. Please, excuse me for any typos /or grammatical errors. 💖Special thanks to @rosesnink for proofreading. 
💖 This is my submission for @choicesficwriterscreations ‘Fics of the week’  
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On the previous chapter...
Hurting her finger, Mary snatched the ring and threw it at him. Her hand was bleeding, but what were a few scratches on a finger compared with the abyss that he had opened in her heart? 
Vincent took the ring from the floor. “Mary, my love, please, don’t do this.” 
“Don’t dare to call me that ever again! Get out of my house! Now!”
Vincent did as she had told him. Tears ran down his face as he collected his belongings. She couldn't look at him. 
As soon as he closed the door, Mary collapsed, crying her pain and screaming her fury. 
The young woman lost count of the hours she spent in that dark hole. When Mary came to her senses, she looked out the window and saw that it was a starry night. 
Her whole body hurt. As for her heart, Mary wasn't sure if it was there or not. She felt frozen. With great effort, she dragged herself from the floor to the sofa, covering herself with a blanket forgotten on the floor. It was impossible to return to the same bed where hours before they had worshipped each other and pledged their love. 
Mary didn't know if she had slept or not, but in the morning, she felt desperately hungry, despite not feeling like eating.  She tried to eat a couple of biscuits; however, her stomach didn’t hold them for long. 
At some point in the day, she heard Vincent at her door. He stayed there for hours, begging her to listen to him. Fortunately, a neighbour threatened to call the police if he didn't leave, and Vincent eventually did. This happened repeatedly all week. 
For days, Mary barely moved from the couch. When her tears dried up until the next round, lethargy took over her. 
Around the weekend, Mrs.  Lemay could persuade Mary to open the door. Although she had not read the article on Sunday, articles about the upcoming wedding multiplied in the newspapers over the week. 
She found her friend a wreck. Mrs.  Lemay was not going to allow the young girl to sink into heartbreak. She made Mary have a bath, changed the bedsheets, and cooked her a proper dinner. 
 
“Luckily, there is not a word about you. At least, you will not be publicly persecuted by this shadow forever.” Mrs.  Lemay tried to console her. 
“Screw my reputation.” Mary mumbled between spoons of soup. 
“Vincent was in my office looking for you, desperate for any information about your whereabouts.” 
“Screw him too! He was at my door several times. I am not interested in anything he has to say.” 
Thinking that it might bring Mary some peace, Mrs.  Lemay told her that there were rumours going around that the Foredale were broke and the marriage was purely a business deal, despite the excitement about the engagement in the magazines. 
“She’s a fat cat widow. It’s the tale as old as time: She gives the money, and he gives the title.” Mrs.  Lemay concluded.  
“It's always nice to know I am worth less than a couple of thousand pounds.” 
“If the rumours are true, he is being sold as a horse. It’s a pity.” Mary mumbled something unintelligible. “I know you are hurt and furious, I’d be too.” Mrs.  Lemay continued. “Nevertheless, this is all very odd, Mary. Vincent is in love with you in a way I've seen few people in love with someone. Since that night at St. James's, I have seen nothing in him but devotion to you. He'd rather lose an arm than make a scratch on you. I can't stop thinking there has to be a reasonable explanation for this.” 
“Of course there is. In that case, there are thousands of reasons… in her bank account.” Mary sulked. 
“He was not convinced when I claimed I couldn't help him. I’m sure he will keep trying to reach you, and I think you should give him a chance to explain himself. You might regret it if you don't,” Mrs.  Lemay insisted. 
“He betrayed my trust in him. I think I would rather have caught him in bed with her than this circus. He has been playing with me for months, like I was a doll. I won't be his or anyone else's doll.” Mary was adamant. 
“Anger and pain are not good advisors. You need to clear your head. Why don't you go spend a few days in your hometown? Some days away from London will help you organise your head and heart.” 
“I will not change my mind.” 
“You may not change your mind, but you need to think about what you're going to do from now on. Life doesn't stop just because your heart is broken.” 
Following her advice, Mary decided to spend a few weeks in Grovershire. 
Mrs.  Lemay was right. Leaving London didn't glue the pieces of her heart together. However, focusing on making repairs to her grandparents' cottage and garden made Mary find some serenity in the midst of the chaos. 
That house was full of so many good memories that even sadness gave her some respite. 
While she was cleaning up things in the kitchen, Mary found her grandmother's handmade 'Moka'. It was one of the few things that Elena had brought with her from Italy. 
“I only had three things in my suitcase: an old coat, the 'Moka' and the recipe book that I stole from my mother.” Elena told her granddaughter many times. 
When she was a little girl, Mary fascinatedly watched her grandmother prepare coffee there, as if it were a magical ritual. Her favourite part was sucking on the spoon after Elena added the sugar. 
It was the best coffee in the world, and Mary could still almost taste it. She ran to the grocery store to buy coffee beans. Replicating her grandmother's ritual made her feel really good for the rest of that day. 
Grovershire itself had little changed. Mary missed many familiar faces and came face-to-face with new ones in the neighbourhood. 
The new and old neighbours were curious about her extended stay, and, of course, theories about it soon emerged through the inhabitant’s small talk. To avoid uncomfortable questions, Mary said that her fiancé, Vincent Ford, had died in a car accident, and she was spending some time there to get herself together.  
Although it was a hoax, for her it was not entirely a lie. She really felt that the man she loved had died on that day. 
Right across the street, George Daly, her former classmate and neighbour, had married Pavarti, an Indian girl who had arrived there in their final year of high school. 
They weren't very close at that time, yet Pavarti was the first to go to the cottage to visit her. Although she was in the last trimester of her pregnancy, Pavarti helped in whatever way she could, especially in the garden. 
Between pulling weeds and planting flowers, there was time for long conversations. A deep friendship blossomed between the two young women. Pavarti was the only one who knew the truth about Vincent.  
George spent many days away because of his work, so it was common for them to cook together. One late afternoon, Pavarti was cooking dinner. Mary suddenly left the kitchen, without saying a word. Pavarti found her on the balcony. 
“If you don't feel like my fish curry and chips, just say so, you don’t need to run away from my kitchen. I have some roast lamb from the weekend in the fridge...” 
“I'm sorry, Pavarti, but I think I'll have dinner. I think the tea house's chocolate cake wasn't as fresh as it should have been.” 
“Are you sure it was just the chocolate cake? You barely touched it. In fact, you have barely eaten.” 
“Nerves are bad for my stomach. It has always happened to me since I was little.” 
“How long have you been feeling this way?” 
“I don’t know exactly, maybe for a few weeks now. Not just the stomach. Everything in me has been messed up since...that day.” Mary still had difficulties referring to the topic. 
“Have you considered the possibility of being pregnant?”  Mary looked at Pavarti as if she had uttered the most absurd of statements. Parvati went away for a while and came back with a small box in her hand. “Take it! You can do it here or at home, but the sooner you know, the better.” 
After spending most of the night looking at the little box, Mary did so. After the time stated in the instructions, the result appeared. She was so nervous that it took her some time to understand the meaning of the two lines. 
Becoming a mother was one of Mary’s dreams. They had planned a family. They joked about having a child born in that millennium and the next in the new one. They agreed on almost everything except where they would raise them. London was off the table. 
Now that dream was real, and Vincent wasn't there. And for the first time, she didn't want him there either. 
This was no longer just about her and her broken heart. On the one hand, she was terrified. It was impossible not to think about her mother's case. More than raising a baby alone, Mary was afraid that something would happen and prevent her from taking care of him or her. Unfortunately, the child would not be as lucky as she was. There were no loving grandparents to watch over her. On the other hand, finding out that a child was on the way was an unexpected comfort to her. No matter what twists and turns life had on its sleeve for her, Mary wouldn't be alone anymore. 
The blood tests confirmed her calculations. The baby would be born around November. 
“When will you tell the father the good news?” Pavarti asked her some days later. 
“I will not tell him.” 
“You should, and, deep down, you know you should. Who knows, maybe this is an opportunity for the two of you to find a way...” 
“If our love was not important enough for him to care and come to me and give a decent explanation for what happened, then I don't consider him important enough to be part of the baby's life.” 
“You are the one who didn't want to give him that opportunity!” Pavarti tried to reason with Mary. 
Mary knew she was contradicting herself, but the young woman was irreducible. Her wounded heart and pride only fuelled her stubbornness. “The wedding will be on May 2nd, do you think there is any point in doing or saying anything, Pavarti?” 
Mary told Mrs.  Lemay about her new situation. Although Mary's absence caused her inconvenience and money loss, she was the first to advise the singer to take a break to take care of the baby and herself.  
The music producers were not very happy with the news. Even though without stating it clearly, they implied that if the baby was her priority at the moment, she would lose the 'privileged place she had on their artists’ list'. 
Mary imagined that would happen. A woman with a baby was the eighth plague of Egypt. Now that she was so close, she was going back to square one. 
Baby Briar came into the world on Easter Sunday, keeping her busy while Pavarti recovered from the tough labour. Around that time, the symptoms of the first few weeks gave her a truce, and Mary began to feel better. 
The most difficult thing was the ban on coffee. When she felt like drinking coffee, Mary opened the ground coffee pot and smelled it until it satisfied her craving. 
Days later, when trying to put on her jeans, Mary became aware of her belly for the first time. It wasn't very prominent yet, but it was already noticeable that things were changing. 
By the end of the month, Mary went to London for a few days. With the wedding so close, it would be very unlikely that Vincent would be there. 
She had her first ultrasound. Hearing her baby's heartbeat for the first time made her worries disappear for a few minutes. She would never forget that beat. 
The midwife noticed that Mary was looking worriedly at the white spots that were appearing on the screen. “Don't worry, my dear, the baby is fine. With a little luck, within a few days, we'll be able to find out the baby's gender. Let me guess: You want a boy, and the father wants a girl.” She smiled. 
Mary pretended she didn't hear the question. The midwife took her hand and placed it on her belly. “You two are already a wonderful family.” 
Her savings wouldn't last forever, so Mary took the opportunity to give some concerts that Mrs.  Lemay had arranged for her. 
Returning to her flat after a concert, Mary found a man in a suit at her door. He was tall, had grey hair and a beard, and had a stern face. She recognised the same shade of blue as Vincent's eyes, but instead of his sweetness, Mary only saw coldness. 
She instinctively covered her belly with her handbag and took a few steps back. Two men grabbed her. 
“Good evening, Mary Howard. I've been looking for you everywhere. I would like to say it's a pleasure to finally meet you, but I hope this is the first and last time we meet.” 
“What do you want from me?” Mary tried to free herself from their arms. 
“Put her inside.” The Earl commanded. 
While one grabbed Mary tightly, the other found the key and opened the door. They dragged her inside and locked the door. She tried to shout, but a hand covered her mouth. 
“I thought that if I saw you with my own eyes, I would understand my son's fascination, but you are not even that pretty.” He mocked, as his eyes roamed her body. Mary noticed that he saw the bump. She felt a shiver run down her spine. “Are you with a child?” He asked. Mary didn't answer him. She could see his fury rising. “It cannot be my son’s!” Mary remained in silence. The Earl slapped her face with such force that if it weren't for the two men holding her, she would have fallen to the ground. “You damned whore, how dare you get pregnant? Wasn't it enough to be a bastard yourself? I can guess what your plan was, but this ends here!” 
For few seconds, Mary could barely hear the insults he spewed from his mouth. Her mouth was still numb from the slap. She felt the taste of blood on her tongue. “My baby will never be a bastard. I will be a mother, a father, and everything my child needs!” She cried. 
“I don't care what you or that creature you are carrying will be. You will disappear from my son’s life forever!”  
“Breaking news, Rupert Foredale: I'm the one who wants my baby to have nothing to do with your family. Unfortunately, I couldn't prevent this child from having your blood. No baby deserves to have a father who is a coward, a cheater, and liar, and much less such a despicable being like you as a grandfather.” 
The Earl was going to slap her again. Luckily, or out of charity, the bodyguards moved her out of the way of his hand. 
“I never trusted people like you. With some luck, the baby isn't even Vincent's. I warned my son several times that he could have fun, but not to be foolish. I should be used to his weaknesses by now. When I was young, I also had a lover who was an artist, a sculptress. She was very skilled with her hands...for everything.” A wicked smile appeared on his lips for a moment. “She was my lover and, I later learned, the lover of every young man in London with any money in his pocket.”  After saying it, Rupert took some papers from inside his coat. “Listen very carefully to what I will say to you, whore: you will sign the papers and disappear from my son's life forever. As I am a good Christian, in return, you will get 10,000 pounds. If you dare to open that mouth of yours about my son or what happened between you, you will rot in jail!” 
Mary spat at the contract. “My dignity is not for sale. And, unlike you, I would never sell a child to pay for my mistakes.” 
She was pushing him to the limit. The Earl was blind with rage. He wasn't used to being defied like that. Rupert tore up the agreement. He took a pistol from his pocket and placed it against Mary's forehead. 
“This was your last chance. If you or your bastard ever try to get close to us, I won't be so benevolent. I will make you botg disappear from the face of the earth even if I have to do it with my own hands.” 
In a matter of seconds, the lights went out, and they dropped Mary on the floor. As quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared into the night. 
Mary couldn't believe what just happened. From what Vincent told her, Mary knew that Earl was not a model of kindness, not even towards his own blood. She didn't expect him to rejoice over the baby; However, not even her greatest fears could imagine such brutality. 
After the shock of the first few minutes, the adrenaline subsided. She was feeling a very intense pain, but she couldn't pinpoint where it was. Her baby. The panic set in. If something had happened to the baby, she would kill the Earl with her own hands. 
Supporting herself against the wall, Mary managed to get up and call Mrs.  Lemay. She didn't care about her bruises. Mary just wanted to hear her baby's heartbeat.  
Mrs. Lemay called for a favour and rushed Mary to a private clinic. She refused to be examined without knowing if the baby was okay first. The doctor assured Mary that the baby was fine, but she only calmed down when he showed her the baby on the monitor. 
He was silent for a few minutes, looking at the small screen. Mary was about to panic again. “What’s wrong, doctor?” 
“Don’t worry, Miss. It's nothing bad. Do you know your baby’s gender?” Mary waved no. “I wasn't going to mention it because I am not absolutely sure. I think you are having a girl.” 
Upon learning that the baby was fine, Mary went into autopilot mode. Besides the bruises, the doctor found out she had a broken rib. After taking care of her, Mrs.  Lemay took the singer to her home. Exhausted, Mary slept for hours. When she awoke, Mrs.  Lemay was waiting for her with a light meal. 
“What happened was a crime, Mary. You should go to the police.” 
“I have no proofs besides my bruises. Who do you think they would believe? An Earl or a pub singer? 
“He is dangerous, Mary, and you confronted him!” Mrs. Lemay insisted. “If he was capable of doing this now, there's no guarantee that he won't do it again... or do something worse.” 
“He's afraid I will look for his son and ruin his marriage with the widow. I believe that as soon as they get married and the Earl sees I didn’t lift a finger, he will forget about me and my daughter.” 
“So, what are you going to do now? London is not safe.” 
“I'm going back to Grovershire and staying there for a while. The Earl doesn't know about my grandparents' house, or he would have gone there. It is far enough from London and from them. I need calm and security for my daughter. Then I will see what my next step will be.” 
“Have you thought about names for the baby?” Mrs.  Lemay asked to change to a happier subject. 
“Beatrice.” Mary smiled, caressing her bump. “Vincent would have liked it too.” She couldn't stop herself from thinking about it. 
“Why don't you ask him in person?” 
“Even if I wanted...which I don’t want...I can’t take that risk now. Even if we survive Rupert Foredale's wrath, you know the fate of the bastard children. My child will not be exiled to a boarding school.” 
Mary did as she said. With the help of Mrs.  Lemay and other friends from work, all of Mary's (few) belongings were loaded into a van the following night. As Vincent's forgotten objects appeared, Mrs.  Lemay discreetly saved them from the trash. She was thinking that perhaps the child would later look for a connection with the father. 
Back in Grovershire, Mary kept as low a profile as possible. Trying to camouflage, she began to introduce herself as ‘Helen’. Those who knew her found it strange. Mary justified her choice, saying she was known in London by that name. She had chosen it as a stage name in honour of her grandmother. 
People thought it was eccentric, but they eventually got used to it. 
Her belly was becoming less and less discreet. Comments on her obvious situation were inevitable, as well as comparisons with her mother's case. The most charitable hearts felt sorry for her situation. Losing her fiancé in a tragic accident and now having a child to take care of... It was a very hard blow from fate. 
The poisonous ones were not so compassionate. Their tongues distilled all kinds of gossip about her: that she was a luxury escort in London (the nastiest said directly prostitute), others that she was the rejected lover of a married man, that the child's father was in prison... Mary knew her truth, yet some days weren't easy with that background buzz. Fortunately, she had the Daly’s on her side. 
She didn't like perpetuating a lie, but it was the best truth she could tell. It would be better for both the child and her. Like her, Beatrice would not suffer for someone she had never met. Following her grandparents' example, Mary would make sure her daughter received so much love that she wouldn't miss a thing. It would protect her from Rupert and more heartbreak. 
The following ultrasounds confirmed that it was a girl and that she was growing strong and healthy. 
Meanwhile, Parvati returned to her work as a seamstress. Mary took care of Briar and in return, Pavarti was sewing her a layette fit for a princess. 
During the day, between helping out at the Dalys' house and preparing her own for the baby's arrival, neither Mary's head nor her heart had time to worry about the past or the future. However, many of the nights were full of nightmares about Rupert; others were sleepless, planning all possible future scenarios. 
On Halloween evening, Mary felt the first contractions. While Pavarti was finishing the hem of a dress, she was playing on the floor with Briar and felt an intense pain that paralysed her. Recognising the signs, Pavarti helped her get up and set her down on the sofa. 
That night was just a warning, but on Tuesday early morning, the contractions came back in force. Mary was terrified of what was happening. What the doctor and the midwife had explained, the books she had read, Pavarti's advice...all of her preparation and plans were gone. 
George and Pavarti drove her to the hospital. 
As the hours passed, the pain increased, becoming intense and almost constant. Despite telling her that she was doing great and that the baby would soon be in her arms, Mary was losing her strength. 
During one of the strongest contractions, for the first time in months, she wished Vincent was there beside her. For a few moments, she was filled with a whirlwind of memories with him. She could almost hear his voice smoothing her. Another strong contraction brought her back to reality. There was no use dwelling on the past. Her daughter was all that mattered now. 
After hours of pain and fear, at nightfall on November 2, 1994, her daughter was born. Hearing the sweet shrill sound of her daughter's cries was a relief. Having Beatrice in her arms for the first time was a new kind of happiness she never thought possible. 
Even though she was ruddy and grumpy like all newborns, in Mary's eyes, Beatrice was the pinnacle of cuteness, with her full cheeks, thick brown hair, and big eyes. 
Around midnight, Beatrice fell asleep in her mother's arms. Exhausted, Mary also fell into a deep sleep.  
A couple of hours later, she woke up with a start, thinking she heard the baby crying. Everything was quiet in the ward, including her daughter. However, the door was ajar. Mary saw a pair of eyes watching them through the crack. “Who is there?” She asked instinctively, placing herself in front of the crib. The pair of eyes disappeared.  
The next morning, after making sure that everything was fine with both of them, the issue of the father inevitably arose. Again, Mary told the best truth she could:  she had met the father at a party, they had spent the night together, and they had never seen each other again. She claimed she didn't know any information about him other than his first name. 
While she was trying to breastfeed Beatrice, a social worker with dubious intentions came to talk to her, asking some questions, pointing out the challenges of being a young single mother and the possibility of giving her baby up for adoption.  
Mary was about to lose patience with her when the Dalys came in to visit them. The couple promptly shooed the nosy woman away. Pavarti helped Mary dress Beatrice and put a small pink bow on her head. Then, George took the first portrait of Beatrice.  
Briar was very curious about the new baby, whimpering if they moved her away from the crib. 
Rocking her daughter by the window, the light illuminated every detail of her features. Mary noticed that Beatrice had a lot of Vincent in her. How she wished she could make Rupert eat his words. 
A couple of days later, mother and daughter were back home. “Welcome home, my love.” Mary kissed her daughter's head. “It may not be Buckingham Palace, but we're going to make it our realm.” 
 As long as she was well fed, Beatrice was (most days) an easy baby. Despite some sleepless nights, the many health scares typical of newborns, and hormone shenanigans, Mary felt like she was in a bubble of happiness. Her daughter's birth had not miraculously healed her heart, but she was the glue that was holding the pieces together. 
As the weeks went by, Beatrice was growing healthy and becoming more active and playful.  
Mary's savings were dwindling at the same rate. 
There weren't many job opportunities there, so Mary had to take a job at a local pub. Since Pavarti worked from home, she took care of the two babies during the day. At the end of the day, Mary helped her friend taking home some simpler pieces of clothing and making small sewing arrangements. She had never felt so grateful for the hours her grandmother forced her to learn how to sew. Despite it, she felt like she could never repay the kindness they showed her. 
The young mother felt exhausted every night, but holding her daughter in her arms, playing with her, smelling her sweet scent, seeing how much she was growing day by day gave Mary the strength to carry one each morning. 
Beatrice never lacked anything necessary, even if that sometimes meant just soup for Mary’s dinner. There were many things she wanted to give her daughter, but she couldn't afford them, even if it might be lacking, Mary made up for it with love. 
-----
The year 1999 began full of hope. Although it wasn't technically the turn of the millennium, there was in the air the excitement of the end of an era, with a world of possibilities knocking on the door. 
Now that the girls were a little older, the Dalys were planning to have another child. Mary was considering changing careers. Her idea was to return to the music world by giving private lessons. 
Unfortunately, in April, a series of attacks shocked the United Kingdom and destroyed the dreams of the young family. George Daly was passing through Brick Lane on his way to meet his last client for the month when a nail bomb exploded. He did not survive his injuries and passed away a couple of days later. 
Parvati was devastated. She cried for the loss of the love of her life and the loss of everything that Briar would not have with her father, even though she was too young to fully understand what had happened. 
Mary knew what a broken heart felt like. However, what Pavarti was suffering was beyond her understanding. Despite the troubled separation, the hurt, the anger, she knew that the love of her life was alive and well. There was always a faint light in her heart, even if her mind denied it.  
Part of her friend had died with him that day. Mary knew it would not be possible to heal that wound. For months, every day, Mary fought the darkness that threatened to swallow Pavarti. She was determined to take care of the parts of her friend that remained, just as Pavarti had done with her. 
----------------------- 
All children grow up too quickly in their parent's eyes, and Mary felt that it was in the blink of an eye that Beatrice went from a baby to a primary school girl. 
Apart from the struggle to get her up from bed in the mornings, some occasional tantrums, and some shenanigans here and there, Mary felt blessed. Beatrice was very curious, eager to learn, always exploring the small world around her and asking many questions, some trivial, some more philosophical.  
Even though she was little more than a child, Mary realised that her daughter had inherited her wit and passion. It gave her some peace of mind. Having a sharp spirit would protect her and help her succeed in whatever path she chose. 
Mary wanted to teach her how to play the piano, but her daughter didn't seem to have the muse of music awake inside her, although Beatrice's voice was naturally in tune. 
Nonetheless, as she grew up, the Vincent features stood out more and more in her, and not just physically. Like her father, Beatrice loved books, always asking to read stories. When an adult couldn’t read to her, she made up her own stories with what she saw in the illustrations and told them to Briar or to her dolls. 
One night, Mary was sitting on her daughter's bed, dog-tired, praying for Beatrice to choose a small book. What was her surprise when her daughter appeared in the bedroom with her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' in her hands. 
“It's too long for a bedtime story.” 
“I didn't ask you to read me everything at once. I was thinking about one chapter per night.” 
“It's a story for older girls. You're going to find it boring.” 
“How older?” Her inquisitive mode had just turned on.  
That was a good question. Mary used her own example to answer, “Girls who are fourteen or fifteen.” 
“I am five, it’s not that different! Plus, you always choose good stories, so I'm sure it won't be boring. I have seen you read it more than once.” 
“You're going to regret asking me for this. It would be much more fun when you read it by yourself.” In vain, Mary tried to change her mind. She started reading the famous first lines. 
“IT IS A TRUTH universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. 
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters. 
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?” 
Night after night, chapter after chapter, Beatrice paid close attention to each line. Sometimes the sleep overcame the girl: however, there was use in trying to trick her. She always knew which page they were on before falling asleep. The reading took weeks, which ended up making story time easier for Mary. 
With the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them. 
“The end.” She dramatically closed the book. “So, what do you think?” Mary asked. 
“It's a little like fairy tales, but without fairies? Mr Darcy is a little grumpy for Prince Charming. Her aunt fits the evil witch role, though. But I loved it!” As she tucked her in, Beatrice asked, “Do you think there are many Mr Darcys out there?” 
“If you look for yours, you will find him.” 
“How will I know?” 
“You will know it. You will feel it. Your heart will scream it.” 
“Papa was yours?” 
Mary still had difficulty dealing with questions about Vincent. For Beatrice, she had chosen to keep the narrative of the father who died in a car accident days before their wedding day. Despite her inquisitive nature, Beatrice rarely questioned Mary about it. Probably because the girl saw the pain in her eyes when the subject was mentioned. 
She had only asked her once to see a photograph of him. Mary made up the excuse that all his photos had been lost when they moved to Grovershire. She was sad but didn't ask again. 
“All love stories are different. Like Darcy and Lizzie, there were some differences between us, but, unlike her, I think I loved your dad from day one.” 
Mary had only seen him again in person once. They were visiting Mrs.  Lemay in London for a weekend. Walking through Hyde Park, Mrs.  Lemay was further ahead with Beatrice by the hand. Mary had stayed behind, enjoying the rare moment of peace that a mother of a toddler can have. There was a street stall selling ice cream, and she decided to go over to buy some. As she got closer, she saw him. She saw them: Vincent, his wife, an older boy, and a boy a little younger than Beatrice, buying ice cream as well. 
That sight left her breathless and with a piercing pain in her stomach. It was a difficult feeling to explain. It had been a little more than a couple of years, however, while it seemed like the same Vincent, it was as if their past was just a dream or the delirium of a feverish night. 
The youngest son was throwing a tantrum, and Vincent patiently tried to calm him down. He seemed to have become the fantastic father she knew he could be and that she had dreamed of for her and their children. 
Mary turned away and walked forward, quickening her pace. There was no reason for her to torture herself with the past, suffer the present, and tempt fate. Such an encounter would only make things worse. 
----------------------- 
As soon as Beatrice learned to read, Mary got her a library card. If on the one hand this freed her from the daily bedtime story, but on the other, it stirred even more her daughter's eagerness. Mary often had to go to the library to return books that Beatrice stubbornly brought home, despite not being appropriate for her age. 
Every night, Mary had to go back to her room to make her turn off the light and go to sleep. On Friday nights, she knew that her daughter, after being caught in the act, would read another chapter under the blankets by flashlight, however, she decided to pretend that she didn't know about it. 
----------------------- 
February, 2004 
Sitting in the doctor's waiting room, Mary tried to focus on the gossip magazine. Her limbs were heavy and sore from trying to control her nerves. 
It wouldn't be anything serious, Mary repeated to herself. She had always been a healthy lass. She was just an exhausted mother, like many others. Like Pavarti, who had insisted on accompanying her to the appointment. There was a wedding dress to urgently finish, yet there she was. The years did not expunge the loss, but they brought back the light of her best friend. 
Daughters full of energy in Year 5, long hours of work, little sleep, months without a moment for themselves, bills hard to pay alone, the need to start preparing the girls' future... No wonder they were both in shambles. 
At Pavarti's insistence, there she was, fearing the worst, hoping for the best. 
“Helen Howard!” the nurse called. Mary wanted to get up, but her legs didn't allow her to do so for a few seconds. 
After some small talk, the doctor delivered the news in the politest and least dramatic way possible. “The cancer is aggressive, and it’s in an advanced stage. However, you are a woman in the prime.  The sick cells have used your strength to multiply, but that same strength can be used in your favour...” He proceeded to explain the options available in her case. 
Mary feared the suffering caused by the treatments, she feared the doctor's lack of certainty, she feared death... but, above all, she was terrified by the idea of her little girl being alone in the world. 
Leaving the doctor's office, Mary didn't know what to feel or what to think. It was as if she were possessed by a sharp pain, a paralysing numbness, while at the same time she was diving into a bottomless, icy lake. 
Then the anger and frustration came. ‘Why her? Hadn't she suffered enough already?’ 
As the days went by, Mary wasn’t still conformed to the diagnosis, but took control of what was in her hands. 
For Beatrice and a future with her, Mary made her mind up to religiously follow the treatments. Even if she couldn’t escape, any chance of spending more time with her daughter would be worth every discomfort. 
In the following days, Mary's biggest concern was how to tell her about it. Unfortunately, or fortunately, children are very perceptive. So, it didn't take long for Beatrice to ask her mother directly what was happening. 
Mary stopped chopping the vegetables for the soup and took a deep breath. She couldn't break down in front of her daughter. To buy some time, Mary poured two glasses of juice for both of them. After a couple of sips, the first shaky words left his lips.  
“As you know, I had some medical exams. I went to the doctor last week to get the results. I am very ill, my love.” She tried to find gracious words in the English language, but emotions rushed things. “I have ovarian cancer. I am starting treatments next week.” 
Beatrice was silent for a while. Mary could see in her daughter's expressions that she was processing what she had just heard. “But, after it, you're going to be okay, right?” She looked up at Mary with her big, sweet hazel eyes. 
Mary didn't want to lie to her, but she didn't want to be overly optimistic. "I will do my best. The doctors will do their best, and with a little faith everything, will be okay.” 
+++++++ 
Her grandmother got a similar surgery years ago as a preventative measure; therefore, the operation didn't scare her. Mary knew the secret was to get plenty of rest, so as she did, at least, as much as mother can do. 
On the other hand, chemotherapy treatments were knocking her down. Pregnancy nausea was a child's play compared to what she was feeling. After the sessions, Mary felt so weak that she could barely get out of bed for days. When she finally started to feel better, it was time to do another one. 
If it weren't for Beatrice, Mary was sure she couldn’t bear it. 
As soon as her hair began to fall like leaves in autumn, she decided to cut it very short. Mary had always loved and pampered her hair, and her grandmother was to blame. She loved her granddaughter's hair and spent hours doing elaborate hairstyles. Elena Howard used to say, 'Tira più un capello di donna che cento paia di buoi'' (‘one hair of woman pulls more than a hundred pairs of oxen’). Mary only many years later understood the full meaning of these words. 
However, more than her hurt vanity, seeing Beatrice cry when she faced her like that for the first time was much more painful. 
Since Mary couldn’t afford a decent wig, she chose to wear headscarves. Parvati, using all the scraps of beautiful fabrics, sewed her headscarves in all patterns and colours. 
+++++++ 
Despite all the ups and downs, Mary was enjoying that summer. 
One more time in her life, she has a lot to be thankful for Parvati. Her friend was being tireless with her, spending the most critical nights close to her, preparing meals, taking care of Beatrice, driving her to and from the hospital... Mary knew she could never repay her, so she prayed that life would reward her with the same kindness. 
Thanks to Pavarti's generosity, Mary was able to dedicate what little energy she had to her little girl, keeping these precious moments in her heart.  
Beatrice spoiled her as best she could, with little gifts and affection. She was always ready to help, no matter the task. It filled Mary's heart with pride. Her daughter's love was what kept her standing. 
The fear of the future often made her think about Vincent. She was sure that Pavarti would look out for her daughter, however, if the worst happened, at least Beatrice would have someone else to turn to. 
Rupert had died a few years earlier, so he was no longer a threat. The years and the paths taken changed both of them, but Mary believed that his heart had not changed. 
She was convinced that when he found out about Beatrice, Vincent would not excuse himself from his obligations. She also didn't doubt that, as time went by, they would love each other very much. 
So, Mary started making arrangements. Since she didn't want there to be any doubt about her daughter's paternity, she took a sample of Beatrice's hair for them to analyse. 
Along with the samples and some photographs, Mary enclosed a letter from her to Vincent in an envelope. It took days, crumpled papers, and many tears to write that letter. Later, she would just need to instruct Pavarti on how to get that to Vincent. 
At the end of September, hope fell away with the leaves. Despite the treatments, the new exams showed that it had spread to other parts of the body. The doctor was almost as dejected as she was. 
“Just tell me how long I have.” Mary asked through tears. 
“I can't give guarantees about anyone's life, Miss Howard. Sometimes there are real miracles in the human body.” The doctor tried to comfort her. 
“I prefer the truth, doctor. Please.” 
“A couple of months, no more than Christmas.” 
“Will it be painful?” 
“There are several ways to make that period smoother, if that's your wish.” 
“Having to go is bad enough, don’t you think?” 
Back home, Mary didn't have the courage to face her daughter. Parvati took Beatrice home for an impromptu sleepover party. 
When the girls fell asleep, Pavarti sneaked over to the Howards' house. It would be a very difficult night for Mary. 
After many cups of tea and many more tears, Mary resolved, “This will take me to my grave, but I won't let it take away the shreds of happiness. My daughter and I deserve better than spending our final weeks in misery.” 
From that moment on, Mary focused on enjoying every minute with her girl, the epitome of her happiness. 
“When are you going to tell her?” Pavarti asked. 
“I do not know how, but not for now. When I feel it's closer. I don't want her to cry before the time.” 
*November 2004*
Giggles were filling the air. Two little girls were playing tag, running around carefree. 
Mary was sitting in her small garden, feeling severe pains, in spite of the medications. She held a mug of strong coffee in her hands, one of the few things that gave her energy. 
The autumn sun in her bones was her only comfort. That and seeing her daughter happy. 
Taking small, warm sips, Mary reflected on the past thirty years. So much had happened! In her short life there were adventures that would fill a lifetime. Losses along the way, setbacks, broken dreams...but also good friends, many happy days...and, best of all, Beatrice. Mary would go all the way again for the opportunity to share her life with Beatrice. 
She was already missing what wasn't going to live with her. Beatrice looks at her and smiles. She is missing two teeth that fell out the other day. Mary knows she won't see her new teeth, yet she smiles back. 
‘How do we prepare a child for our death, Pavarti?' Mary asked her friend, who was sitting next to her.  
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have-you-been-here · 18 hours
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Not a submission, but an actual question to satisfy my curiosity:
Do you have a list of places you'd like to visit someday, and if so, has it grown longer because of this blog? Any notable examples? Since following, my list of destinations to visit has grown even more absurdly long, and I was wondering if that happened to anyone else.
I'd love to hear your personal answer to the question, but I would also be interested in hearing from your followers, if anyone is so inclined.
This blog is very fun; thank you for all the time and effort you put into it!
Hello! I don't *really* have a list of places I'd like to visit more than vague wishes of "it'd be nice to visit Italy one day!" Etc., buuuut this blog has definitely helped me make one! If you're curious to see where I might want to go one day, check out the "#to do list" tag on my main blog, @yupokaysuremhm. I reblog the places from here that I find especially cool. Mostly waterfalls and pretty cities!
If anyone else has a list of places they'd like to visit, you're more than welcome to mention them on this post :)
Thank you for enjoying the blog!! Knowing that people like it and want it to continue is a lot of what keeps it going!
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