#the value of truth… trust ….. boundaries <- it all comes down to boundaries asking yes or no before everything reasing the body language

[divinestrike]

look . the equivalence of love and safety okay . it gets to me ……

[thedistantdusk]

Private

Thanks to @floreatcastellumposts for Brit-picking and @el-eye-zee-aye for organizing the Harry/Ginny Discord birthday challenge! This was a lot of fun! T for language/mild sexual humor. 

On AO3

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Being the significant other of the most desirable wizard in Britain doesn’t come without drawbacks. Ginny knew that from the off. Even the earliest days of their raw, rekindled relationship were marked with requests for interviews, a trend that continued throughout the summer of 1998. When she returned to Hogwarts that September, reporters took it upon themselves to sneak onto the platform, capture her and Harry’s final, departing snog… and then reprint it, absolutely everywhere. Without their consent.

Her decision to pursue professional quidditch after Hogwarts made the situation both better and worse. On one hand, the publicity became less random. Less speculative. As soon as she signed with the Harpies, her privacy was protected — at least to some degree. Press events were soon planned and targeted instead of the sporadic, anxiety-inducing sneaks attacks to which she’d become accustomed.

The trade-off, of course, is that when press events do happen, they’re dreadful.

Utterly, completely dreadful.

Ginny sits in the enormous purple armchair and bites the inside of her cheek. She hates interviews like these… ones of the aforementioned dreadful variety. This one is with Sandra Richardson of Witch Weekly, a woman known for her propensity towards twisting words and taking statements out of context. But it’s part of the job, Ginny reminds herself for the thousandth time that morning. She must sit through six of these per year, each before a match. She must be generally pleasant and polite. She must represent her team well.

And above all else, she must not lose her temper. Right.

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” croons a dripping, saccharine voice. Oh. Ginny swallows. Sandra Richardson, here for the interview.

Sandra places the tray on the table between them and shoots Ginny a wink as she begins pouring tea for each of them. A younger, more naive Ginny might have trusted Sandra from her appearance alone. Her gold jewelry and buttoned blouse make her seem more matronly than predatory. But just as she plops down in her armchair, brushing a lock of her coiffed blonde hair from her forehead, Ginny catches a look in her eyes that she’s all too familiar with.

Ambition… red-hot, glowing ambition. The type she’ll chase with everything she has.

Yes. Ginny sits up a bit straighter. The interview hasn’t started, but she already sees it for what it is. The whole thing now reminds of scoldings in Umbridge’s office.

“Sugar?” Sandra gestures towards a polka-dotted dish in front of them.

Ginny forces a smile. “No thanks.” Merlin knows she won’t be drinking it. This is what they do, these reporters; they lull you into a false sense of security with their tea and their biscuits and their grins. Once upon a time, Ginny was thick enough to fall for that — for the manipulation disguised as courtesy. Now, she’s a bit wiser.

“Interesting,” says Sandra, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh?” Ginny can’t fathom why, but she has a feeling she’s about to find out anyway.

Sandra slowly sips her tea before she lifts her quill and notebook. “Are you abstaining from sugar for… any particular health reason?” she asks, her lips curled in a coy smirk.

Ginny gets the unnerving sensation that the interview started long ago. She refuses to give Sandra the satisfaction of a true reply.

“Nope,” she replies brightly, clasping her hands in her lap. “Just not my prefere—

“—Mm,” interrupts Sandra. “Because I hear that sugar and caffeine often trigger morning sickness. Did you know that, Ginny?”

Ginny’s forced smile remains in place. In truth, she’d expected something like this. Their wedding is soon — very soon. People have been pestering them about their reproductive plans for months. Sandra certainly isn’t above the masses.

“I didn’t,” Ginny says smoothly. “But let’s discuss quidditch. It’s why I’m here, after all!” She shoots Sandra a knowing wink and hopes that conveys when she can’t say: mind your fucking business, you cow.

Unfortunately, Sandra doesn’t take the hint. “It’s now 6th August, Ginny. Officially in between the birthdays of you and your Chosen One.”

“Well spotted,” Ginny notes, still grinning. “Who needs calendars when we have you?”

There’s a beat.

For just a second, Ginny thinks she’s gone too far… but she soon realizes that with Sandra, there’s no such thing as a boundary.

“We’ve all swooned over those photos of him holding your niece — oh, what’s her name…” Sandra taps her teeth, pretending like she doesn’t know the answer; Ginny’s blood rises to a low simmer. “Victoria?”

“Victoire,” Ginny grits. Little gets her back up faster than bringing oblivious children into things. Especially when they’re used for manipulation tactics.

“Oh yes, that’s right,” Sandra croons. “Victoire!” She places a hand over her heart as if reliving a poignant memory… as if she’s had any bloody involvement in Vic’s life. “She’s such a gorgeous baby, isn’t she?”

Ginny forces a laugh. “You’d know, I reckon, since you’ve seen her! Now.” She clears her throat. “I’ve a game in two weeks against the Falcons. Let’s discuss—”

“In time,” Sandra says, waving a manicured hand. To her left, a fluttering of movement catches Ginny’s eye. Shit. The white feathered end of a Quick Quotes Quill furiously darts through the air as the tip scribbles on a notepad. When did Sandra take that out? She thought for certain that Hermione banned them…

“But for now, let’s focus a bit on you, eh?” Sandra presses, her cloud of blonde hair brushing against her shoulders as she cocks her head. “I’m sure readers would be titillated to hear about how your fiance has been in quarantine for over a month. What’s that been like?”

Ginny snorts. Oh, for the love of -- that’s what she’s getting at?! The complete non-story of Harry being quarantined?

“That’s… not very exciting,” Ginny replies. Because it isn’t. With a bored voice, she begins the thousandth recollection of exactly how and why her fiance hasn’t been able to leave the house for two weeks. “Harry was raised by muggles and wasn’t exposed to Dragon Pox as a child. With the latest outbreak in London, the Auror Department wanted to keep him home until they’re finished with the latest preventative potion.” Ginny picks at a piece of lint on the velvet couch. “It’s quite dull.”

Just like this interview.

The remainder of the sentence remains unspoken in the air, but Ginny hears it resonating in her head so loudly she almost jumps.

Sandra just gives her a knowing smirk; Ginny feels a rush of relief that the woman isn’t a Legilimens. “I don’t know. Sounds like fun, having a man all wrapped up for you, 24/7?”

Ha! This time, Ginny really does laugh. Seriously, what is the media obsession with constant sex? She’s about to launch into an explanation about how it’s thoroughly possible to be too bored to shag, but Sandra cuts her off with an even more horrendous question.

“Remind me,” says Sandra, leaning in close. “How old were your in-laws when their Chosen One was born?”

Oh, for the love of—

Ginny bats her eyelashes fiercely. “I’m sure you know,” she says through gritted teeth, “since you’re asking this question. But seeing as how we can’t bloody ask them, I don’t find it appropriate to—“

“Lily Potter was nineteen when she fell pregnant,” Sandra says through a stage whisper. She claps her hands together as if she finds this a truly revealing statement. As if anyone isn’t capable of reading the bloody gravestones and doing the math.

Ginny clears her throat. “Good to know. So the Harpies only have one more match this year, and—“

“You’re 19,” Sandra adds, continuing the conversation she’s only been having with herself. “The rumors around London are that the quarantine is bogus. Has Harry already quit his job to be a stay at home dad? He’d love to have his own Chosen Ones, Miss Weasley.”

In retrospect, Ginny will realize that this comment is the final fucking straw. She could handle the false flattery. She could see through the batted eyelashes and the singsong lulling into complacency. But she cannot — will not — stand for this complete cow spreading rumors about Harry.

But instead of handling any of it maturely, she rises to her feet, glares at Sandra, and provides a retort so lewd, so scathing, that it rocks the tabloids for months.

And with a triumphant quirk of her eyebrow, Ginny turns on the spot and disapparates, leaving Sandra’s dropped jaw to tremble as the Quick Quotes Quill continues scribbling so fast it scratches the parchment.

Even before her feet touch down, she regrets the whole ordeal.

She doesn’t regret telling Sandra off, mind — but with a wince, Ginny accepts that yes, she does regret how she did it. She regrets that she’s just given the cow enough ammunition to paint her as a true villain. She regrets that she involved Harry and—

Harry.

Ginny shudders. Harry, who values his privacy above everything else. Harry, who won’t discuss anything about her in interviews, but still gets this adorably lovesick grin whenever her name comes up. Harry, who loves her. And trusted her.

Fuck.

Ginny pinches the bridge of her nose, her stomach sinking, and wonders how in hell she’s going to talk her way out of this one.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have long to ponder how she’ll break the news. In the blink of an eye, Harry’s coming around the corner. Poor bloke. It’s not like he’s got much else to do but await her return. This whole quarantine experience is uncomfortably reminiscent of Sirius' last months of life. She can't ignore the ghostly memory of Dumbledore’s gentle chiding that energetic young men (and women, she supposes) don’t do well cooped up, cut off from the outside world...

“Hey!” says the man in question, flashing her a smile. “That was a quick one! Thought I heard you, but you’re—“

“I fucked up.”

Her whisper echoes in the flat. She stares at her trainers, her face burning.

She blinks up as Harry shifts in place; his smile is nowhere to be seen, replaced with the look she knows and hates. Harry’s jaw is set, his eyes narrowed in concern. He’s doing the whole I’m-strong-for-you-but-I’m-afraid.

“Erm. Ok?” he asks, gesturing towards the couch. “Would you like to...?”

“I’ve said something during the interview I shouldn’t,” Ginny adds, biting the inside of her cheek. “Something I definitely, definitely shouldn’t.”

There’s another pause. Ginny worries, just for a second, that she’s scared him or that he’s somehow already heard.

But she should’ve known him better. Because in a split-second, Harry both senses exactly what she needs... and acts on it.

He wraps her in his arms and rests his chin on the crown of her head. He presses her face to his chest and guides them both to the couch and makes soothing murmurs and brushes the hair away from her jaw.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says gently. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you claim, but—”

“It is,” Ginny whispers, miserable.

Harry shrugs. “Well, I can’t possibly know until you tell me, so—”

“She— she mentioned your mother.”

Harry’s chest stiffens as he draws a sharp breath; she gets the impression he’s trying very hard to wait until she’s done to interject with words of support.

“She... Sandra... she mentioned that I’m nearly 19, your mother was 19 when she fell pregnant, and—”

Harry cuts her off with a snort. “And does she think that was on purpose? I mean I’m happy I’m here, but yeah...” He shifts her in his arms, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t seem entirely intentional, given the circumstances.”

“Well, babies have a tendency of showing up like that,” Ginny replies dryly. “Sandra did raise a good point about making sure we’re... being careful.” She grazes a fingernail up his arm and relishes when his skin erupts in gooseflesh.

For a fleeting, victorious second, Ginny thinks she’s distracted him. She thinks she’s achieved her ultimate goal of turning his attention to the 24/7 sex they’re alleged to be having.

But she should know better, really, that Harry would ever be fooled when it comes to her.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Harry rumbles, his voice gentle but firm. “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to go, after all. We can sit here for the next few weeks if—”

“She asked when we’re having kids. And not just in passing,” Ginny adds, raising a pointer finger. “No, Harry, she pushed. Over and over. She suggested I was already pregnant, she brought up your mother, she asked when I’d function as the vessel for the Chosen One’s offspring…” She trails off with a sigh. “So. Finally, I snapped.”

He takes her still-extended pointer finger and gently pushes it into a fist. “What did you tell her?” he asks, kissing her knuckles. “Because from what I’m hearing, it sounds like she deserves it. Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t—”

“Isaidwhenyoustopfinishingonmytits!”

There’s another pause. “Erm, sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite—”

“I said,” Ginny repeats, her voice strained, “that we’ll have a baby when you stop finishing on my tits!”

Fuck.

She groans, sliding her hands over her face. Recapping this is somehow worse than living it the first time. Speaking it to Harry changes the stakes. It turns the situation from hypothetical to absolute. It solidifies that she fucked up... she really, really fucked up.

And she’s so lost in humiliation, so buzzing with horror, that it takes her a second to realize that Harry isn’t buzzing for the same reasons. Although he’s certainly shaking, isn’t he?

A second later, she dares to peer at him through her fingers. To her delight, Harry’s not furious — he’s laughing!

And when they make eye contact, his silent shaking transforms into full-body laughter. The type that sends tears to his eyes. The type that’s infectious, contagious. The type that makes her want to laugh, too.

“So I take it you’re not… angry?”

Harry wipes his eyes. “Ginny,” he says weakly, “I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe! Did you actually think I’d be angry over that?” He snorts, pressing her against his chest again. “No. For once and for all, no. She crossed a line, and she got what was coming.”

“But you hate attention,” Ginny moans into his shoulder. “You hate big displays and personal things being public and—”

“But I love you,” he says softly, kissing her temple. He gives a dry chuckle that sends tingled through her body. “And to be honest, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t go off on people. Especially when they deserve it.”

She sighs, pulling back. She has to see his face to confirm. To reassure herself. As she’d suspected, Harry’s just giving her a wry smirk. His green eyes are flooded with warmth as he peers back at her. Even after all this time, he still looks at her like he can’t believe she’s there. Like he can’t believe she’s his. His smirk grows to a full-on grin, and Ginny bites her lip; she thinks he’s about to provide some sappy, lovesick rebuttal.

Instead, he replies with something that’s simultaneously the absolute best — and the absolute worst.

“Besides,” Harry says casually. “Joke’s on them. We both know I’d never have the self-control or coordination to finish on your tits.”

With that, she laughs... really, truly laughs. She relaxes against his side, letting the soothing rhythm of his voice wash over her. He laces his fingers through hers. He plays with the strands of her hands.

And by the end of the night, she’s thankful for exactly two things: her fiancé in quarantine, and the contraception that will keep them from enacting Sandra’s plan for a long, long time.

[synnefo-nefeli]

I really love the scene in Heard Your Heart Beating when Apollo and Klavier sleep after drinking and Apollo wakes up at some point and looks at Klavier and thinks about him and Daryan and Kristoph. Idk I really like the vibe of it and also Apollo is really fond of him and you can see it lol

This is for the DVD Commentary Author Ask if there is a scene from any of my works you’d like to see a DVD commentary on, send me an ask!

Yesss this one of my favorite scenes so far in HYHB.

So there are two things going on in this scene- one is a payoff moment when Apollo figures out the significance of Valentine's Day is to Klavier, and the other is the emergence of the theme of " Safety". This chapter also functions as a transition point from Klavier and Apollo moving from work colleagues into a closer friendship. There is still a giddy nervousness at the beginning of this chapter that is usually associated with moving to the next step.

I wanted to express that almost frenetic nervous energy when inviting a new friend/date/etc into your personal space for the first time. And Apollo, despite him stating repeatedly that the hangout is platonic/feeling guilty about appearing to move on from Clay /trying to keep that boundary that’s existed so far between them, allows that boundary to fall.

By the end of the chapter there is now a comfort and deeper trust between them so that their relationship can continue to develope organically over the next few chapters without Apollo being constantly flustered every time Klavier teases him or there still being awkward feelings between them. They’re still in the “getting to know you” phase of their friendship but they’re at the point where coffee breaks and after work drinks no longer suffice. They now want to hang out as much as possible.

More under the cut so I don't spoil people for this chapter

Before I get back into the Safety theme I want to reiterate the meaning of the story’s title. It comes from Florence + The Machine’s song, “Cosmic Love”. The lyric goes:

“ I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too-So I stayed in the darkness with you”

This lyric aside from Comic Love being a big mood inspiration for the story, this lyric refers to Klavier and Apollo finding eachother after going through a really shitty and traumatic year and a half.

They recognize that the other is a source of some comfort as each of them understand what the other is going through a little bit better than the others around them.

This scene is the first confirmation to the reader that yes, Klavier is actively seeking out Apollo for comfort.

So far in this story we know *something* is bothering Klavier- he’s actively avoiding someone and he’s been kinda timid in reaching out to people without having his glimmerous persona constantly on. In the following chapter, Klavier mentions that he’s been asked to be in Edgeworth’s wedding.

Apollo attempts to commiserate with Klavier about this as Phoenix has just asked Apollo to be his best man.

Klavier tells Apollo that Apollo shouldn’t be shocked about being asked to be Phoenix’s best man- considering how much Apollo means to Phoenix. He has to point out to Apollo how much Apollo means to Phoenix and Trucy as well as how Apollo impacted Klavier’s choice to return to the legal world full-time.

And while Klavier is honored that he’s been asked by Edgeworth, his being asked is more of a surprise than Apollo being included in the Wright-Edgeworth nuptials. There is no way that Apollo wouldn’t be included after all he’s done for Phoenix and Trucy and how close he is to the WAA. Klavier had a different dynamic with Edgeworth. Part of this because, well, it’s Edgeworth. But Edgeworth has formed close bonds with Gumshoe and Kay...but Edgeworth just spent the last few years chasing down a Phantom Criminal in order to save Simon from Death Row. So Miles and Simon had a closer dynamic.

Klavier unfortunately comes with a lot of baggage-most of it being from things beyond his control. It was his debut that resulted in Miles’ partner from being disbarred and disgraced. There is everything with Kristoph. Combine the canon stuff along with this story establishing that the Gavins and the von Karmas have a bit of a family feud going on, it’s no wonder why Klavier admits to feeling that he’s still needs to figure out if and where he belongs.

He’s always looked up to Phoenix and Miles and wants to spend his career under them, but he thinks he needs more chances to prove himself to rebuild trust.

Of course- the obvious signal Klavier is missing, is “Hi, the Chief Prosecutor has asked you to be in his wedding party. If the grooms didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have been invited let alone asked to be IN THEIR WEDDING PARTY” ...and he misses it right after he’s finished telling Apollo, “how could youthink you’d wouldn’t be included, Herr Forehead. Jeeze.”

Like I said- Klavier is shit at taking his own advice. I’m not being mean to Klavier, but because Klavier is anxious about trusting people and letting people in, he prefers to do things on his own terms and under his control just in case he needs to get out if he gets rejected.

And even though he reached out to Apollo first with his condolences for Clay’s death he didn’t expect anything more than a thank you note, but Apollo not only acknowledging him, hunting him down to his apartment and even offering his company to Klavier, was a happy surprise to someone who has been very lonely.

He’s been wanting to get to know Apollo but he’s felt awkward due to the fallout with Kristoph and the continuing dark age of the law of which he was apart of the two major catalysts.

Apollo over the last few weeks is appearing to be a safe space for Klavier.

However Klavier wants more confirmation and a chance to suss things out (re: Kristoph). So when Apollo says he doesn’t have plans and was oblivious about Valentine’s, Klavier pounces on it. He spent Valentine’s alone the previous year and it spiraled his depression so he was not in the mood to again this year.

This scene was meant to be that very comfortable state between two people with a budding friendship. Once you get drunk with someone while having deep conversations, it tends to push you more into the friendship category.

It was also important to get some of the serious topics out rather than dragging it out. Having this quiet evening is something they both needed, and it allowed them be vulnerable. Especially since Apollo was already upset from the phone conversation he had with the Terrans earlier in the chapter.

Apollo needed a night in with the only person who has never treated him with kid gloves, even before Clay’s death. And Klavier needed a night in with the only person who has never put him on a pedestal.

When discussing Kristoph, it was important to remind the reader that Kristoph is a human being- it’s what makes him a compelling villain and why his betrayal of both Apollo and Klavier’s trust strikes an emotional chord with the player. Before the events of AA4, there was a time where Kristoph gained Apollo and Klavier’s love and loyalty, where he was a normal boss, a dog-dad, a good older brother. There were good times and happy memories- which is why when Kristoph is exposed, Apollo and Klavier are disillusioned- Klavier moreso. But another reason as to why Klavier finds Apollo to be a safe haven, is because, Apollo knew the Kristoph Klavier loved. They both wanted Kristoph to be proud of them. They respected him and wanted Kristoph to be proud of and acknowledge them.

Klavier has been wanting to talk to Apollo about this for awhile and I believe so has Apollo. Apollo is never going to say to Phoenix, “hey Mr. Wright, Mr. Gavin was a good mentor to me too-“ it wouldn’t go over well, even though Kristoph was a good mentor to Apollo-his only flaw was thinking that Apollo would happily be a lickspittle and easy to manipulate. So when Apollo gives Klavier that reassurance that Klavier can talk about those happier moments of his life involving Kristoph, Klavier sees that Apollo wants to take that awkward stress away from Klavier but also Apollo wants to get to know Klavier better.

Klavier is so used to people researching his celebrity persona and forming opinions based off of his former lifestyle, that it’s refreshing to find someone who wants to organically grow their relationship without preconceptions.

Yes, Apollo initially wrote Klavier off as being a fop and glimmorous- but those thoughts were due to Apollo being self-conscious. By the end of Turnabout Serenade, Apollo admits that Klavier is pretty cool and in DD, Apollo remarks that Klavier is different than most prosecutors and how dedicated Klavier is towards his job.

It was also important in this chapter to allow for Apollo to discuss Clay and his relationship with Clay’s family. You’ll notice in this story that Klavier is the only person Apollo will share anecdotes about Clay with and freely grieve about Clay. It’s not that Apollo hides it from The WAA, he does share some things with them, but right now, Klavier is the only close peer Apollo has, and this comfortable vulnerability they’ve trusted eachother with allows Apollo to express himself with out him fearing that he’ll appear fragile. He’s tired of people walking on eggshells around him, but Klavier hasn’t and never will.

Likewise, I made sure to have Klavier fish for information about Apollo. Yes they’ve been hanging out for weeks at this point and worked a case together (sorta), but those coffee dates have been more talking about work, general topics like Trucy’s shows, etc.. they’ve been light in topic. So dinner and drinks at someone’s home gives way to deeper conversations about value-systems, love lives (even though Apollo isn’t entirely truthful lol), etc. And it works really well to the point they get more comfortable than either had anticipated.

I loved writing the discussion about how Klavier will never ever do a performance of “The Guitar’s Serenade” where he’s singing Lamiror’s words. It was such an organic moment while writing too- Klavier just started talking about how he’s feel like an imposter to sing those words because he’s never experienced a lost true love...and he hopes that he’ll never know what that feels like. It’s an honest moment that puts to rest any assumptions Apollo may have had about if Klavier is just a flirt not to be taken seriously in the romance department.

Hearing that Klavier is pretty private in his love life, isn’t a player, and has pretty much admitted that he tries to date with the intention of marriage, shows Apollo more into Klavier’s serious and introspective side. A side that Apollo’s only known in the context of their work. It makes Apollo realize that Klavier is human and is wanting of things like love and companionship. More importantly, Klavier will take those things seriously should he be so lucky to receive them.

There is also a bit of humor here- because c’mon Klavier lives to be playful when he can, and he wants to know more about Apollo’s views on love and relationships. Apollo is adorably flustered because he doesn’t want to admit he’s still a virgin. But in this portion I wanted to start laying down the idea that Apollo is demisexual. Part of the reason he hasn’t fallen in love or felt desire is because he’s fullfilled by his relationships with those he holds dear, but also no one has been interested in Apollo and stayed long enough to bond with Apollo in a way for desire to to bloom.

Because they’re starting as friends-particularly a friendship made as adults- this is going to give Apollo that chance to realize he wants more from Klavier. And for Klavier who wants a true friend and companion after the betrayals he’s suffered, Apollo is a perfect match for him.

The most important thing for me while writing this scene was to show Apollo and the reader that Klavier is suffering and grieving just like Apollo is, (and to establish early that Klavier is super bad at taking any of his own advice) and for Apollo to start drawing parallels to himself while wanting to dig into what’s going on with Klavier.

Apollo is interesting because he’s more likely to say what’s exactly bothering him but fails to realize his feelings about others.

Whereas Klavier is very aware of his own feelings but will hide what’s bothering him from others.

They’re also two people who now need reassurance about where they fit in and how others consider them in their lives.

And if you were wondering: yes, at this point Klavier does have a crush on Apollo haha. So getting invited to sleep over was a bonus for him...despite it being labeled as a “platonic sleep-over”, because at this point in the story, it is a platonic sleep over. Klavier is good at reading the room (even when drunk) to know that Apollo isn’t making a move on him and neither should he.

The comment Klavier makes about Apollo’s bed’s size is a homage to my favorite BL manga, FAKE. In the manga, Ryo who has just started as a detective at a new precinct and met his new partner, Dee- has Dee over that same day for dinner and Dee winds up staying the night. Ryo has a large bed for a single guy (according to Dee) and Dee makes a comment “that’s a big bed you got there, do you have a girl to go with it?” because Dee the little shit that he is, is trying to see if Ryo is single (and yes, they sleep in the same bed that night. How is that fir team building haha...it’s totally platonic. It takes Dee 7 volumes to get that. Please read it it’s a classic). Klavier is totally asking to get a rise out of Apollo because Klavier suspects that Apollo exaggerated his experience because Apollo’s pivot was not smooth at all XD.

Finally the last aspect of showing safety is them sleeping in the same bed together. We know from descriptions of Klavier that Klavier has not been sleeping well. Something is keeping him up at night and his mood has been less glimmerous. When he arrives at Apollo’s that evening; he wasn’t able to really conceal the dark circles under his eyes. Apollo has been missing Clay, who would usually sleep over and share the bed with Apollo,’s company.

Sleeping next to someone, especially falling into a deep sleep in a bed that is not your own, is a sign of trust. Yes they were sleepy from the alcohol, but they went to bed together easily, slept for hours, had brunch, and went BACK to sleep. Neither minded, nor did Klavier feel that he should leave after they ate. They are comfortable and too hungover to even think about anything except getting more sleep XD Also it’s not as if Klavier is in a hurry to get home when he eventually saw the text from his land lady.

Sorry if that was a rambling response but I have a lot of love for this scene in particularly and I’m so excited to give a behind the scenes look at it!

[mrsgreenworld]

Sen Çal Kapımı Episode 15 aka Soulmates

I know it's never taken me this long to gather my thoughts on a new SCK episode. But as I mentioned in my previous post Mike Flanagan's shows happened to me 😭😩😱

However, I also think it's because I had some mixed feelings regarding the episode. I guess while I was trying to watch it live (trying being the operative word here) the problems with the live stream influenced my overall first impression. I wasn't able to watch a good chunk of the episode and, of course, it got me annoyed and that, I guess, mixed up with my feelings about the episode. But after having rewatched it with subtitles I have a full and clear picture.

All in all it was a nice episode, very light compared to a much heavier angst of earlier episodes. I liked that light-hearted moments and humour were back. It was also a shorter episode which served it well. However, it felt a lot like a filler episode which, in my opinion, did nothing to move the story forward.

The things I loved / liked:

☑️ Eda: she was a true star ⭐ (ahah, pun intended) and the main highlight of the episode for me;

as a woman I was so proud to see her handle this situation with such strength, dignity and self-respect;

unfortunately, despite the old gender stereotypes slowly dying out, despite the fact that women are becoming more and more independent and aware of their value, we are still often portrayed as a weaker sex; I am not talking about physical strength, of course;

we are the ones left, we are the ones who suffer, we are made to love men with everything we have, we build our whole lives around them, we let our world revolve around them... so, when they leave or we lose them for any other reason - it's the end, everything falls apart, we fall apart; I am so sick of still seeing it on screen; that's why I freaking LOVED seeing Eda not fall apart, or at least she didn't fall apart for long;

I loved that she allowed herself to grieve, to cry, to be angry and to express this anger straight to Serkan's face; I think we saw Eda go through her own 5 stages of grief; but she didn't let depression take away more than one night of her life;

I love that Eda found out that Ayfer had contacted the grandma and, while her reaction might have been a bit too emotional (which is actually normal and understandable given she's still hurting after having had her heart broken and stamped on), I really enjoyed Eda protecting her personal boundaries and basically saying to stay the *uck out of her life - you go, girl!👏💪😎

I enjoyed the way Eda handled herself at the office and how she behaved around Serkan; she wasn't stealing lovesick glances at him or just brooding, she wasn't overly hostile, she wasn't running away;

oh, and when Seyfi brought that box, how she handled that - a standing ovation👏👏👏, everyone bow down to my Queen! 👑👸

speaking of that box where Serkan asked Seyfi to gather all of Eda's things, how he ordered to put away all her gifts - as Eda put it "he's trying to get rid of any trace of me"; in a way she's right; Serkan is trying to get rid of everything that could remind him of her and their shared moments but we know it's not because he doesn't love her (like Eda thinks), it's because he does and it's too much for him; and it's such a contrast to Eda who actually said to the girls that she wouldn't throw away or burn or whatever any of Serkan's gifts or other things that remind her of him and them, she openly said that she's not the one to run away from the memories; and it was so powerful - seeing the writers make a woman so undeniably stronger than a man👌👏

I also liked Eda around Efe, there wasn't anything romantic, I think it was completely professional and it didn't feel or look (at least to me) like Eda was trying to use Efe for petty reasons like make Serkan jealous (but of course our boy was jelly nonetheless 👽😁)

the little moment with Aydan: it was nice to see Aydan trying to comfort Eda (I guess she earned a few points for that) and I really liked the message she was trying to deliver - you can find love and happiness again;

I loved seeing Eda take that in, accept the message, agree that she will be ok one day; and I also liked seeing her not accept Aydan's support which felt a little bit like pity; Eda didn't want to be pitied and she said what she thought to Aydan's face; was it a little harsh? maybe, yes; but I understand where it came from and, given how insensitive, hostile, rude Aydan had been towards Eda in the past, Eda not really buying this whole support thing is pretty understandable;

☑️ Edser: whatever state these two are in - deliriously in love, flirty, pissed off, annoyed, lovesick, heartbroken - if they're together on screen it's always glorious;

do I like seeing them angsty and heartbroken? of course NOT! but the longing between them is SO GOOD!😍🤩

I loved that they introduced this soulmate theme; it wasn't there front and center but rather woven subtly through the episode: first, of course, pretty openly stated at the very beginning of the episode, in the parallel conversations Eda / the girls and Serkan / Engin; then symmetrically at the very end of the episode - the papers with the names of the drivers for the race, then Serkan being the one to notice Eda's absence, him just feeling her and being led by his heart until he found her - not bad for an emotionless robot, huh?😏😉

THE RINGS!😍😍 glad that they brought Eda's💍ring back into the picture; she demonstratively put it on the middle finger of her right hand; obviously she did it on purpose, she even explained the reason behind this decision - from now on it will serve as a reminder what kind of person Serkan Bolat is; but of course I think there's something deeper at play here; Eda could have easily put the ring on her left hand but she went with her right hand instead, with the middle finger which is so close to where it used to be, where an engagement ring should be - on her ring finger; so I think it's also a way for Eda to be closer to Serkan, it's almost like a phantom of what they used to have as well as of all the things they won't have... I am also 99% sure I am overthinking here and the intentions of writers were much simpler 🙈😆

anyway, I loved that Eda and Serkan both noticed and pointed out aloud that the other was wearing their ring; also Serkan's reasoning "to keep other women away" - why don't you tattoo "I am the property of Eda Yıldız" on your forehead, mister?👀🙈😆 could he be any more obvious?

the coffee scene was priceless 🤣🤣🤣 Serkan was so damn confident that Eda poured that cup for him and then him mumbling "for Efe" under his breath... like an offended child 🙈😆

them fighting looked a lot like flirting and the electricity⚡generated during their arguments could easily power their whole office building - I am sure;

the car ride to the presentation and that presentation itself - while I didn't entirely enjoy it and how controlling Serkan was I cannot help but admire the way his mind works; I also think he was doing it for Eda, it was his way of supporting and looking out for her without being too obvious; this way they also get to work together and even if it's just for work he will be closer to her;

Serkan showing up at that sport motivation thing like a boss 😎 and shamelessly checking Eda out 😏 I mean, was he aware there were other people around? and how is it possible that Eda was still buying the emotionless robot crap? the emotions the guy was looking at her with were enough to melt the glaciers 🔥🥵

and finally - that moment at the sea when Eda told Serkan that he wouldn't have apologized if he hadn't feared for his life; his immediate response was that it wasn't about that, "what if something had happened to you?"; when Eda answered with "Does it matter?" I swear I thought Serkan was gonna take her by the shoulders and shake her;

that jaw tick? man, he was pissed 😤

at Eda - for saying something like that, for being so careless with her life;

at himself - for allowing her to think that it wouldn't absolutely destroy him if something were to happen to her;

but the moment Eda left all anger left him and Serkan just looked... defeated;

☑️ Eda and Efe: might be an unpopular opinion but I actually liked their dynamic in episode 15; as I have already mentioned I didn't see or feel anything romantic and while I still don't trust Efe (him being from Mardin - a coincidence? nope, don't think so🧐) I liked how supportive he was with Eda; I think she needed that push to get back to work; okay, there is very likely some ulterior motive here but at least in this episode he seemed pretty genuine and it didn't look like he was using Eda; he wasn't provoking Serkan that much either;

☑️ Selin and Serkan: a short scene with the two of them in Serkan's office and Selin's reaction to Serkan and Eda's breakup; maybe to someone it may seem too strong but I actually liked Selin calling Serkan out on it like that; honestly I half expected her to find excuses for his behaviour;

☑️ Engin: keeps being a loyal friend who doesn't just offer silent support; I like how he always tries to reason with Serkan, doesn't shy away from telling him unpleasant truth;

glad he was there for Serkan at the very beginning of the episode;

loved how he checked on Serkan at the office and then tried to convince our RoBo that it's ok to not be ok and maybe take a vacation;

then the exchange:

Engin: "So, out of sight, out of mind?"

Serkan: "Exactly"

Engin (spotting Eda coming into the office with Efe): "Interesting how that's gonna work out for you" - interesting indeed 🙈😆;

Things I didn't like / was annoyed with:

❎ Serkan: yes, my baby boy made it into this category - there's first time for everything 🙈😆

just to be clear - he is still my cupcake and I love him dearly but here's the thing: we don't always like those we love;

I think in episode 15 Serkan was controlling and childish; and I completely understand where these tendencies come from but it doesn't mean I am gonna turn a blind eye on this or try to justify his behaviour;

that "Efe left but Serkan is here" scene was intented to be funny and endearing I guess but it was highly manipulative; and when during the car ride Serkan commented on Eda behaving like a teenager I was like "excuse me?! have you met yourself, mister?!" because that manipulation to make Eda go with him was worthy of a 12-year-old 🤨;

❎ Selin: when is she not annoying?🤔 while I liked that she didn't take Serkan's side and called him out on his change of heart, unfortunately, she still managed to make it about herself; it never fails to amaze me how selfish and self-centred this character is;

❎ Alptekin: what a poor excuse of a father and a man he is... almost feel sorry for him;

don't apologize on behalf of your son - he's a grown ass man who is capable of speaking for himself;

apologize for yourself, your mistakes and if you're not ready - then don't go to Ayfer just to make yourself feel better 😤😡;

❎ that almost copy-paste from Erkenci Kuş at the end:

getting lost and falling down into a pit in the forest? been there, done that in EK episode 19;

okay, we had beautiful sea views and they placed it at the end to add more suspense but all in all it was awfully similar and also kinda came out of nowhere;

after that emotional scene between Eda and Serkan we were whooshed into "Eda is not here, let's go find her"; I have no problem with the absence of the moment where she actually fell into that pit - wasn't that necessary - but a scene that could have served as a building block to this would have been good - show Eda going for that walk.

And... that's pretty much it.

Gonna get down to episode 16 now

[roseategales]

VORACITY — ONE-SHOT.

fic rating: explicit. | categories: fluff, hurt/comfort, smut. | pairing: solavellan. | content warnings: biting and scratching as kinks, discussions of dubious consent. | word count: 2.3K. | alternate link: ao3.

author’s note: the smut in this fic mostly functions in the background and in dialogue, but, although it’s described in detail, is not the focal point. the fic was written to focus mainly on the discussion of motivation, consent, aftercare, and the dynamic between solas and my lavellan, who are in an established and loving relationship by the point that this fic happens in. thank you to @thebookworm0001 and @jarakrisafis for beta’ing. <3

_____________________________

“I can heal these.”

Cooled with a spell at the ready, Solas’ fingertips hover over her hip, where an imprint of his earlier grip on her is darkening to bruises. It’s not the only wine-red patch. There’s a counterpart on her other side; and an irregular trail of marks in the shape of his mouth, starting from her throat, wandering down to her breasts, and ending below her ribs. In the morning, their contrast on her skin will be deeper, and will appear harsher than they are in daylight’s emphasis. She’ll have to be grateful Josephine ordered so many high-collared tunics for her in spite of her protests. Secretly. Or her Chief Ambassador may fuss even more. But Eludysia doesn’t think those things warrant her worries. Nor should they warrant Solas’. Easily concealed displays of a night enjoyed with her dearly missed lover? Hardly worth the trouble, when their lives are full of worries as things are.

“So can I,” she reminds him. She curls closer to his side. “Leave it. I don’t mind them,” she says. If anything, they serve as a reminder that there are some things of Eludysia she can keep guarded. For her love. For herself. Apart from Herald and Inquisitor.

Solas hesitates for a moment, the line of his mouth severe, eyes searching hers in the shadows cast by the dim firelight. “Ma nuvenin,” he says eventually, when she voices nothing more. The spell is returned to the streams of the Fade, and he arranges the quilt to cover her body and his.

She should know him better by now, however. The way she’s learning to know the lean grace of his form, the sharp angles of his features, the specific timbre of his voice. His acquiescence to her is conflict with himself. She has her dismaying confirmation as he lays back down to face her and brush her hair behind her ear, without a kiss to her forehead or her lips. Without holding her. He tries a smile, but it’s as withdrawn as he is. Like he doesn’t dare to allow himself her closeness, his mind lost to rumination.

There’s something behind his offers to clean her up and heal her love bites.

“You’re upset,” she says, as both a statement and a question.

“Do I appear to be?” Solas asks. It’s tempting to interpret his lilt and raised brow as amused surprise, and not concern. A simple yes or no would’ve made it easier to pursue the subject. She wouldn’t feel like she’s walking on a thin line, caught between potentially overstepping his boundaries again or never knowing the reason for his reservation with her.

Her desire to know wins.

“You do appear to be,” she tells him. “You’re distancing yourself and dodging my question.”

“I do not wish to concern you, vhenan. Moreover, you must be tired after your journey from Ferelden, and I have stolen enough of your time and energy. You should sleep.” He winds his arm around her, palm flat on her spine. His thumb strokes her skin. If the gesture is meant to soothe her, it has the opposite effect.

“I’ll toss and turn the whole night if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Eludysia is aware of the manipulative undertone to her words. Though she is being truthful and her intentions are genuine, she could have let this go. Didn’t he say he would work on trusting her? She could have admitted that she is tired, and asked if he would discuss things with her in the morning. She could have asked if he’d help her sleep with a spell. Left him to mull things over on his own in the Fade. Perhaps he’d feel better if she did. But then, she doesn’t feel it’s a good idea to leave the conversation here. It is just as likely that he’d continue to avoid the subject and she would be no closer to the explanation for his mood’s sudden shift. She was so happy to be able to see him and be held by him again. She counted down the days, ached to have him all over her at night. Her hand and mere recollections of him between her legs brought poor relief. She thought he ached similarly and was equally thrilled for her return. Now...

Solas removes his arm from her. He rubs his face, as though he was the one who’d spent a week in talks with the Ferelden crown and nobility on a mutual effort to expunge the Venatori. For a moment, she braces herself for him to evade her or leave again. She wouldn’t blame him. But he doesn’t. When he drops his hand, his expression is as composed as a still pool.

“All right,” he says quietly. “I fear I should not have taken you in the manner I did. I was reckless. Unthinking. I could’ve caused you worse harm.” He places two fingers under the mark at her throat, examining her. As if he waits for her to flinch away from him. She remains at his side, her breathing steady. “My actions were regrettable. I apologise.”

“You apologise,” she repeats, incredulous. Reckless. Unthinking. Harm. She turns each word, each meaning over. Tries to frame tonight’s sex in the light of them. She can see how reckless could be applicable. But unthinking? Harm? And if his actions were regrettable, what would he call hers? Who initiated what past the first kiss is a bit difficult to distinguish. Neither of them could get their clothes off quick enough, neither seemed like they could bear another second without the other’s touch. But this much is clear: She was exhilarated by the voracity of Solas’ desire. She encouraged every move he made. Fenhedhis, his back must’ve stung from her nails sinking into his flesh. He had murmured, “abelas,” when she gasped at how hard he bit her throat, and she bid him to do it harder.

He’d paused, looked up at her. His pupils were dilated, eyes dark as the Void. Did they dance in the firelight or did she imagine it? “Are you certain?” He asked.

She couldn’t help but arch into him. “Yes! Please!”

Eludysia’s worry heightens into alarm.

“Solas…” She says slowly, fearing where she next treads. “Was the sex tonight pleasurable for you?”

His brows crease. “That is besides the point.”

“No, it isn’t.” She winces. Her pitch is higher, shakier than she intended it to be.

He falls silent. A shadow passes over his face. “It… was. Yes.”

She has little cause to assume he’s lying. In all the time she has known him, Solas has proven to highly value truth and deplore falsehoods. He has and will avoid and obfuscate if he sees fit. Mostly out of caution. But he would never lie. Still, she wants to be certain. “Every second of it?”

“I would not have gone as far as I did if it were otherwise,” he says.

“Then why are you apologising? If it was pleasurable for both of us, I don’t see a problem.”

“What is pleasurable and what is beneficial is not mutually exclusive, vhenan.” Though he is gentle as he explains, he points the differentiation out as if it’s obvious. “We have not been apart for quite some time, and your trip to Ferelden was the first since we started having sex. It was like starving in the winter after eating of a summer harvest. We were driven by need and desire. That combination can be overpowering for anyone, making them desperate to be satisfied. I wanted nothing more than to have you, to make you cry out and come apart trembling in my hands as I slaked my lust.” He cards his fingers through her hair. Somehow, his touch underlines his description of what transpired, intimate yet distant. She’d wonder at how paradoxical he can be if she wasn’t familiar with his idiosyncrasies.

He continues, “I knew I had you riled. I asked for your consent not purely for your sake, but to permit myself indulgence. Even if you were not hurt or did not feel mistreated in the moment… I would never want a chance of that happening.” His eyes flit past her, like he sees something she can’t. A scene where she’s pushing him away, covered in bruises, feeling used, her trust broken? It vanishes as soon as it appears, and his gaze settles back onto her face. “Certainly not in bed.”

She considers what he has said. Her cheeks burn and her eyes sting. She catches his hand mid-stroke in her hair, and brings it to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his knuckles. Then she props up her pillow and sits, arranging and clutching the quilt tightly around her body. Solas watches her, questioning. As she cannot conceal the marks at her throat and the tops of her breasts from his view, she hopes her hair and the shadows fall in the appropriate places.

“Vhenan?” He probes.

Eludysia Adhlea Lavellan, you are a fool. Desiring is easy. Asking for explanations is easy. Receiving and examining them, and giving your own in turn—that’s the hard part.

“You’re the first person to care so much for me,” she says. A lump forms in her throat. She swallows, and glances at the sparks rising off the flames. Takes a breath to compose herself. “Growing up Dalish, sex was taught to me as a matter of practicality. We were given lessons on our bodies, taught how to protect ourselves, instructed through common knowledge and preserved texts and folktales, with the expectation of marriage and raising children one day. I’ve told you about my youth, so you know I was… Rather curious and rebellious.”

“As you’re still inclined to be.”

Solas’ wry note earns a nervous laugh from her. “You have a point. Well, I didn’t live in a village. I didn’t have a house with four walls and various rooms, let alone a castle, or stay anywhere long enough to figure out where there were good hiding spots. If I found someone to my liking, we had to be quick and discreet. That often meant we were rough. I’ve been bitten, swatted, I’ve had my hair pulled, and I’ve done the same to others—and there wasn’t time to embrace or curl up together or talk in bed like this.” Not even with Dhea. The thought is tinged with some regret. Not for what could have been. For what was. They were never right as a couple, but a few of the memories they made together might have been happier, had less insecurity and shame. Before Solas, she had no idea that sex could be so tender, so achingly sweet. She didn’t know someone could draw six, seven orgasms a night from her with the softest of touches. Nor what it would be like to be taken care of and then fall asleep in his arms afterwards. Being with him, in Skyhold and on their travels, has been a privilege she never envisioned for herself.

“I’m not telling you any of this to upset you further,” she hastens to add as his eyes widen. “But for you to understand: I like rough sex. I wouldn’t have sought it out or encouraged you if I didn’t. My only worry…” She swallows again. “Is that I’m mistreating you.”

He sits upright in an instant, closing the gap between them. “No, no. Nothing of the sort, vhenan.”

“You’ve done nothing but give into me, disregarding your own discomfort the entire night.”

“Would I not speak plainly if you had wronged me? My discomfort was caused by my guilt towards you. The actions I took were to assuage it.” He shakes his head at her. “You underestimate the extent of my selfishness.”

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t been selfish either.” Isn’t that how they ended up here? Mutual selfishness? She reaches for him with her free hand. He takes it, and she smiles faintly at their fingers interlacing together. “Heal the bruises if you like. I won’t complain.”

He hums, gently pushing her hair off her shoulders and lowering the quilt to her thighs. His fingers brush the edge of the mark at her throat. She tilts her chin up and straightens her posture for him. But he pauses. “First, answer this for me: Is there a reason you refused initially? You were fine with me fetching the cloth and wiping you.”

She shrugs. “Outside of this room, I’m the Herald and Inquisitor. People don’t see me. Not truly. They see whatever gives them faith, hope, or fear. You don’t. When I’m with you, I remember I’m more.” Gods, she sounds like Cole. Her nose scrunches. “I suppose the love bites and bruises just make that notion more tangible, odd as it sounds aloud.”

“On the contrary, it sounds like you’re clinging to your personhood however you can.”

Of course Solas would be the one to understand.

Eludysia cups his cheek and leans against his forehead. Her smile widens as his hand slides around the nape of her neck. “Maybe I don’t need them. Maybe it’s enough that you’re by my side.”

He chuckles, brushing his lips to hers. “I will be glad to remind you of the woman you are as often as you wish,” he murmurs.

Heat pangs in her belly at his words’ suggestiveness. “Good. Because if you’re up for another round…”

He pulls away, expression darkening. She opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out is a squeal as she is suddenly on her back, the mattress bouncing underneath, his body atop hers.

“It’ll be easier to heal everything with a single spell later,” he explains before she can ask. He pins her wrists above her head. She feels his cock hardening at her thigh. “Is this all right?”

She laughs, leaning up to drag her teeth over his lower lip. “Perfect,” she says.

The grin he gives is wolfish.

[promiseiwillwrite]

Balancing Life

I talked to my biological father today.

Yes.

The same one I just blogged about the other day as Stalking my Mother.

Yes.

Suffice it to say that this is Asami's fault. After the events of the Second Season of legend of Korra, she went to See her Father in Prison, and she tells him that she doesn't know if she will be able to forgive him, but "that doesn't mean she shouldn't try."

That is kind of how I feel about my father.

With an edge of Low Key Retaliation.

My father is Alone, and I am one of the only people he is regularly in contact with. And I am absolutely using him to Help Myself Heal. I am asking him about Anger, and talking with him about spirituality, and I know it causes him Great Pain and I Don't Really Care.

His Pain is Not my Fault or my Problem.

Perhaps you find this Blisteringly Unethical.

But When you balance it against the fact that this man held me up by my right arm and Beat me repeatedly with a 2 inch leather belt with a Brass Buckle when I was 5 years old, perhaps you will find you prefer my methods to his.

I talked to him today.

I asked him about Anger. He had talked with me about it before. I have anger issues, and I've taken my anger to a very suppressed place. I have denied it, and disowned it, and made it wrong and cut it out of me, in an effort not to be like HIM or like my Step Father... I was terrified that I would be like them, and that my anger would Hurt Other People.

When we talked about it before... He told me it would come. It would be there, once I had cleared away other problems, and made progress on my mental health journey. My Therapist had been telling me that it would come, and that I needed to buy a Huge Block of Ice and get a Big Hammer and just Kill it. Even the book I read about boundaries, it was very clear that boundary injured persons tended to feel anger when they began instituting boundaries for the first time, and that they needed to expect it and make space for it.

I knew it was coming.

And when I encountered some Exiled Anger, It was a Shrieking Karen, a version of my Step Father that I was terrified of being. She went on and on in her disrespected indignation.

My father told me that he dealt with his anger by challenging himself. By holding himself to an intellectual standard where his 100% was at least 50% better than other people's 100%.

Now, this immediately smacked of arrogance to me. And also some rather Unhealthy Comparison thinking. I am not really comfortable with the idea of being better than anyone else. I tend to stick more to Being Better than I was Before.

But it DID beg the question...

What is my 100%? And is it wrong or bad, inherently, if I AM objectively more intelligent than another person?

And for that matter, It also honestly felt like I already lived my life by my father's stated standards. I hold myself to absolutely Ruthless perfectionist standards. They keep me in this dissatisfied state all the time, where I am constantly not good enough.

Not Good Enough because I wasn't a Boy. (And I don't know if my mother made that one up, or just voiced a viewpoint my father had unconsciously, but it definitely got into my head somehow.)

Not good enough because Sorry isn't good enough, and Mistakes were not only not permitted, but they made you bad in a way for which there is no forgiveness, because they can Never be made right.

But I cannot see where, back there in the mist, I was Not Allowed to be Angry. I feel like maybe that happened sometime back before I was five, but I don't remember anything that would let me anchor a memory to it.

So I talked with my father. When I was on the phone with him, I spoke in half truths, because I wasn't trying to pick a fight. I told him I denied my anger because I didn't want to be like Spider... Which is True, partly. It's just actually a List of people I don't want to be like, And He is On It.

So I entertained his idea.

I told him that I really wasn't sure what my 100% was, intellectually. I feel like I have a narrative in my head and my heart that some things are wickedly easy for me. (I am pretty good at taking tests) I also have no sane metric for how much effort should be placed into scholastic tasks relative to their GPA weight, and generally give my all in all but a few cases in college. I DID graduate with Highest Honors. But I was miserable. I did college wrong. I had no friends. I didn't do any activities. I spent an entire semester in a fucking Closet on the second floor of the Biology building. When I was asked to speak at graduation I almost laughed out loud at the person who asked me. I told them they Really didn't want that.

I hated my college experience, and honestly, I found out that I just Hate School. My Father may value his intellect more highly than any other part of himself, but I am not sure I can use it as any kind of bar or metric. I don't think placing myself above others, even objectively, is going to be how I answer my subjugation of my anger. I don't like feeling superior to others. When I Catch myself Doing it, for Any reason, I am immediately Ashamed. I have a Very rough relationship with pride and arrogance and conflating the two... Which is why I am currently working with Lucifer.

But he told me today that I was quite a unique flower, and that he had never been called to work with someone with my set of proclivities regarding anger and pride. I get the impression that he usually has more to work with.

I catch myself feeling different or special, and I run away from it like it's a cliff edge in the Dark.

He's not a quitter, of course. He IS pride. But I don't think he's fully felt out how to approach the problem without running me out of my own skin.

I told my father that On the Flip Side of my anger conundrum, was the very distinct possibility that I have been obsessive about my mental health work. I have spent a great deal of time and energy on it, often to the exclusion of all other discretionary activities. I have never been very good at relaxing or having fun.

So my Father said I would Clearly have to solve one problem before I could solve the other.

I would need to find a way to prioritize relaxation and rest as strongly and effectively as I have made time for the mental health work. And I would have to get an actual minimum set up for myself before I would have the Energy and Strength to support the Anger work.

And perhaps that is true.

I told Lucifer that I want to be special, and I feel that that desire is a character flaw.

And he asked me Why.

He told me that it is honestly pretty fucked up to disparage yourself for such a thing, because Literally Every Human Feels the same thing. ESPECIALLY if you take it down to the level of wanting to be special to particular others.

Loki told me the last time we spoke that if I Trusted Him, that I should ASK for what I want in our relationship. I have not made a habit of asking Loki for anything. Ever. Maybe help with a parking place now and then... But I was legitimately afraid to. When I asked Loki for help with my Anger issues, he said that this was why he'd brought Lucifer into my circles. (Yes, before I even asked, he had already answered)

I'd thought it had to do with my Pride and Arrogance issues... but there is a lot hidden with him, and he's always on top of the game (unless it's time to be a bottom...)

But there is some resentment that I am noticing as a very low energy, easily ignored sort of anger that surfaces around the arrogance/pride issue. I think they are linked, and I may come up with two skeins unknotted instead of just one when I finish this particular dance with the Devil.

[peaceful-negotiator-kenobi]

Beginners (Obi-Wan x Gender Neutral Reader)

Summary: Obi-Wan helps remind reader, who is insecure about being able to complete the trials to become a Jedi knight, that they’re worthy of becoming a Jedi and that their past failures don’t define them. 

Length: ~ 1564 words

Warnings: Lots of fluff, cuteness and motivation (oh, and also cuddles because cuddles are great).

A/N: I stole the title from another really great movie starring Ewan McGregor, but the fic isn’t related to the movie (although I would highly recommend watching Beginners). 

“There you are.”

Obi-Wan gives you a wide smile when he finds you sitting on the floor in the hallway outside of your chambers, back pressed up against the wall.

“Oh, hi Obi. I’m so sorry I completely forgot about joining you for meditation today. I’ve been . . . busy.”

You look down at the lightsaber in your hand that you’ve been meticulously taking apart and putting back together for the last hour. 

“Busy with what?”

He comes and sits next to you on the floor, his eyes suddenly filled with concern as he realizes just how unlike you it is to miss any commitment--let alone a meditation session with your best friend. 

“My trials are in a week, but my master doesn’t think I’m ready.”

You fasten the last piece back onto your lightsaber with a swift motion of your hand. 

“I thought I should spend every second preparing so that I can prove my master wrong.”

You murmur, still avoiding eye contact.

Obi-Wan moves over to take your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Is that what you’re worried about, not passing the trials? Because if it is, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. If you can’t pass the trials, then I sure as hell won’t be able to.”

You finally look over at Obi-Wan and flash him a smile.

“Thanks Obi. But I don’t think you realize just how bad of a Jedi Knight I’m going to be. I’m so incompetent I’ve often wondered why the Council hasn’t dismissed me from the Temple already.”

Obi-Wan looks back at you with such incredulity at your own self-assessment that he lets out a short laugh. 

“Come on, let’s get a cup of tea in you first before you start trying to convince yourself that you’re secretly a Sith.”

Obi-Wan helps you up off of the floor and the two of you enter your chambers where you have an electric tea kettle and an assortment of tea to rival Master Yoda’s collection. 

As you wait for the water to boil, you wander over to the balcony overlooking the city of Coruscant. You try not to look dramatic, but with your robes fluttering in the evening breeze and the stance you’ve taken with your arms spread out across the balcony railing, Obi-Wan can’t help but observe just how comically dramatic you look. 

“Some tea, my liege?”

He hands you a mug of hot tea as he joins you. You give him a sarcastic side eye for the comment. 

“So what’s this about being incompetent? It’s the first I’ve ever heard you associated with that term, and I’ve known you since we were younglings.”

Obi-Wan leans up against the balcony railing and casually sips his tea. You pause, the memory of a recent mission on a remote planet with your master still too painful and embarrassing for you to easily articulate. You value your friendship with Obi-Wan more than anything in the world and worry that you might lose his respect by revealing the truth to him. But, in the end, it is because you value your friendship so much that you decide to tell him the truth.

“I . . . I abandoned my post on my latest mission with my master.”

You search Obi-Wan’s face for any sign of horror or disgust, but you are only met with sympathetic features.

“I fell asleep while I was supposed to be looking out for any sign of trouble and my master was almost injured because of my incompetence. Had someone else not alerted him, he would have surely been shot and possibly killed by a droid.”

You reveal, continuing to search Obi-Wan’s features for some indication that you were, in-fact, as bad of a Jedi as you perceived you were. But he only sipped his tea quietly as he listened, his features never once yielding to your expectations. 

“Y/N, you’re often right about a lot of things, but in this instance I must call you out for being so incredibly wrong about yourself. You’re not a bad Jedi because you fell asleep on the job one day--you’re overtired perhaps. You’d be a bad Jedi if you were unwilling to learn from your mistakes, or if you didn’t feel sorry about it. Besides, I’ve seen the way your master works you to the bone and, if I were you, I think I would have fallen asleep at my post countless times by now.”

Obi-Wan moves his free hand over to cover your own and gently massages it with his thumb. In exchange, you flash him a smile. He looks pleased at this change in your demeanor. 

“But that doesn’t solve the problem of the pain I feel over disappointing my master. He told me directly after the incident that I wasn’t ready to take the trials--that I had done a very bad thing. I don’t know how to make my master trust me again.”

The sun had slipped below the horizon and darkness was now encroaching on the corner of the balcony where the two of you stood. You don’t wait for Obi-Wan to reply and you indicate that you should both move to the couch inside. Obi-Wan collects your mug with his own and sets them down in the sink before joining you on the plush cushion. 

“It’s only natural to feel bad about the things we’ve done wrong, especially when those things affect other people, but we shouldn’t allow that pain to turn into shame. You made a mistake and you learned from it. In the end, it is not your master who decides your fate, but you. Only you are in control of your destiny. Besides, if he won’t allow you to take the trials, there is a way to appeal to the Council.”

He takes your hand again and looks you in the eyes, filled with the light of love and compassion. He hates seeing you so defeated, knowing how strong you really are. 

“Thank you.”

You breath out, finally accepting his truth as your own. You give him a warm embrace that causes him to sink back into the sofa. He strokes your hair gently and the two of you sit there holding each other for a while in peaceful silence. He then places a gentle kiss on your forehead and loosens his embrace. 

“Remember when we were both younglings and you used to let me crawl into bed with you when I had nightmares and was frightened that whatever I dreamt of would come true?”

You nod, smiling at the memory of a young Obi-Wan sneaking into your room in the middle of the night and poking your face until you woke up. 

“Well, I have a feeling now’s an appropriate time to return the favor, if you would like me too.”

“You’re too good to me, Obi.”

You look down at your hands, a blush creeping onto your features. 

“Nah, I do believe it has always been the other way around.”

You smile wildly, momentarily forgetting all about your worries.

The two of you get ready for bed and make the surprisingly difficult decision of who gets to spoon who. In the end, Obi-Wan wins out with the simple, but persuasive, argument that, of the two of you, he’s the expert big spoon.

You ask him teasingly what qualifies him as the expert. He only smiles at you suggestively and remarks:

“I get around.”

You throw a pillow at him from across the room.

“Ooo Obi-Wan broke the code.”

He only laughs as he throws the pillow right back at you.

The two of you get into bed and he wraps his arms around you, the warmth of his body heat and his skin pressed against your own luling you towards the brink of sleep.

“I lied.”

Obi-Wan suddenly whispers into your ear, bringing you back to the present moment.

“Hm?”

You murmur sleepily. 

“I’m not an expert big spoon. I haven’t even slept in the same bed as someone else since you and I were kids. This is all very new to me.”

You take the arm he has draped over your torso and pull it closer to you.

“Well, you’re doing a very good job at it.”

He gently nuzzles your neck before placing a tentative kiss on it. 

“Is this okay?”

He asks, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Yes.”

You reply in a breathy whisper, already a pool of warm sensations at his touch.

He kisses your neck again before pulling away. The chill that fills the space where his body once rested hits you immediately and you almost turn around to see what’s the matter. Suddenly, you feel the pad of a fingertip brush a patch of exposed skin on your back. 

It takes a moment to realize that Obi-Wan is tracing words into your skin. He does it slowly so you can feel the pattern of his letters and the sensation deeply relaxes you. He traces out “you can do this!” at first, but as you slowly drift off to sleep he begins tracing out something else so slowly and hesitantly that you don’t know what it says. You’re in the gentle ebb and flow of falling asleep when Obi-Wan returns to his place as big spoon and whispers into your ear in a low, melodic tone:

“I love you and I believe in you.”

[chaotic-neutral-toga]

i’ve spent the entire time since my last post on this and holy fuck i want to fall into a coma

um okay i just thought up a zodiac based story plot thing and uyvbuhyb

okay so there’s this god-like thing but not exactly gods, i guess the “souls” of concepts, maybe?? so like those ones are infinite, not really but like they are, it’s confusing on purpose, but the zodiac are one of a kind each, Thing is they’re kinda destructive. Some do it because they can/want to, some do it because they don’t understand what’s wrong with it (they weren’t really ‘disciplined” or “taught”, so morality is kinda lost on them), and some are more kind, but still dangerous. In classic story fashion, they get sent down to the human world to become accustomed to morals, ethics, and just having a more grounded life. anyway characters

Pisces is autistic (yes im projecting a little) and destruction was the her way of stimming (other than snuggling in a hug with someone). When she gets to Earth, she does things that are “weird” to humans, since out of all of the zodiacs, she has the hardest time grasping the concept of the human world besides stuff she already knew(water and other stuff her sign rules). She’s fairly kind and compassionate, but has no tolerance for liars or anyone that gets on her bad side, which is a side even Aries sweats over. She likes puns (once they’re explained to her), and never understands innuendos or dirty jokes unless they’re really obvious. [Colors for her design: Mauve, Lilac, Violet, Sea Green. Closest Relationships: Virgo and Taurus. Human Name: Clementine.] Panromantic Demisexual

Aries is a bit reckless/destructive, to the point of idiotic sometimes, but he really does have the best intentions with most things he does. You can’t really blame someone for not knowing what they shouldn't do when they were never taught they had limits or boundaries that could be pushed. He can be bossy at times, but it’s usually because he knows his fellow Zodiacs well, and he can tell when they need someone to tell them what to do before they end up arguing over different ideas. Fire is the element he rules over, therefore it was one of the few human concepts he knew, so he took a quick liking to smores; it’s a sweet thing made over fire, what’s not to love? When he’s not riled up over something, he’s just a really passionate and affectionate friend. He identifies as an Androgynous Trigender, sometimes feeling like a boy, sometimes a girl, and sometimes agender, while preferring to use he/him pronouns. [Colors for his design: Red why the fuck does he only get 1 color wtf is this inequality. Closest Relationships: Libra and Leo. Human Name: Everett.] Aromantic Asexual(will kiss the homies uwu)

Taurus is pretty calm, but they can and will destroy you(verbally). They speak their mind and try their best to be honest, even if the truth is painful or undesirable. When dealing with problems, he keeps a straight face(facade or not), but lets his emotions out when it’s over (aka pouting as Cancer give them calming head pats). Because they’re one of the only ones who took to cooking (and one of the quickest to become relatively easily-adjusted to Earth), at times, they tend to be in a sort of parental role when interacting with the others. They can get frustrated with too much stress (aka more calming head pats), but they can usually work through it well enough. When it comes to love, he becomes flustered surprisingly easy, though this is technically hypothetical, as they haven’t encountered any romantic situations yet. Upon coming to Earth, Taurus discovered he’s allergic to reptiles, especially snakes, which makes his friendship with Scorpio, who will not give up his precious boop noodle, a bit rocky. He uses he/they pronouns. [Colors for his design: Green, Pink. Closest Relationships: Scorpio and Cancer. Human Name: Beau, pronounced Bo.] Gay

Gemini was probably the most optimistic of the bunch when they were first sent to Earth; she isn’t reckless, but she does live for the thrill. She has fun watching drama as long as it’s just harmless bickering, and she’ll stop any serious fights. She's a bit slow at reading the air sometimes, which is one of the few things that make her feel insecure. Even if she comes off as prideful or uncaring, she truly does treasure all her friends, and would move mountains for them. She is an ADHD Lesbian, so she has the awful pun of GA(Y)DHD. [Colors for her design: Light-Green, Yellow. Closest Relationships: Sagittarius and Aquarius. Human Name: Mikaela.] Lesbian

Virgo has a somewhat obvious crush on Pisces- not everyone knows, but it’s not rocket science for the observant ones- and Pisces thinks he’s just being a really great friend.(Virgo: I am stoic and distant and won’t open my heart to anyone. Pisces: Hi! Virgo: FUCK-). It’s easy for him to stress or obsess over something, and not give himself any room for imperfection. He’s one of the less outwardly destructive zodiacs, but internally, he tries to do too much and puts too much pressure on himself, which is never a good thing to do. Sometimes due to stress, he’ll isolate himself for a bit, but he gets very touch-starved very easily.. which makes it even more confusing how the snugly Pisces doesn't notice his feelings. [Colors for his design: Grey, Beige, Pale-Yellow. Closest Relationships: Pisces and Cancer. Human Name: Ezra.] get em boys, we found a Hetero

Libra is a quiet one, usually collecting information from afar before interjecting. He likes being helpful since he’s aware that he sometimes overthinks interaction. Asking him questions can be confusing, as he usually answers with simple “yes”’s and “no”’s. He enjoys reading fairytales; no real reason, he just likes them. He has Sensory Processing Disorder, which simultaneously makes him the dad and the baby of the group. [Colors for his design: Pink, Green. Closest Relationships: Aries and Sagittarius. Human Name: Libra, which is luckily an actual greek name.] Bi

Leo is a rowdy girl to say the least. She’s loves just horsing around with her friends, usually in the manner of play-fighting and tackle hugs. If you didn’t guess, she’s one of the more destructive Zodiacs, even on Earth. She denies ever doing things when confronted, though it doesn’t work most of the time (”Whaaat, I didn’t break that vase, that was Aries, right bro?” “Hey, don’t pin this on me!” “BRO-”). She is extremely loyal to the people she cares for, which could cross into naivety if she chose the wrong person as her friend. While she definitely isn't the motherly type, if one of her friends really needs to be comforted, she’ll sit them on her lap and stroke their head(she stronk owo). Though normally upbeat, she becomes somber in grim-looking situations, to the point of pessimistic. [Colors for her design: Gold, Yellow, Orange. Closest Relationships: Aquarius and Gemini. Human Name: Amaterasu.] Demiromantic Asexual

Scorpio has a pet boop noodle(baby ball python) that he almost stole before Taurus payed for it, which is when they discovered Taurus is allergic. They’re an overall cold and distant person, but they’re not completely shut-off; they just have a hard time warming up to people. Because of this, he holds grudges for a long time when his carefully-placed trust is betrayed. He seems to sometimes just appear and disappear during discussions with anyone noticing until he suddenly speaks up or they want to talk to him(spoiler alert: he’s just quiet). He’s very cute and peaceful when sleeping. [Colors for his design: Scarlet, Red, Rust. Closest Relationships: Taurus and Cancer. Human Name: Phoenix.] Arospike Aceflux

Cancer is very much a big sister to most, if not all, the Zodiacs. She has a caring air about her and can adjust to suit the boundaries of her friends. She herself is quite sensitive- though no one’s ever seen her like that- and she never wants her friends to feel that way. Besides that, she takes great interest in human pleasantries, such as sweet food, cameras, and lullabies. While she prefers to be the mediator during fights, if someone, say, insulted her friend and wouldn’t back off, she would lash back with a stone cold fury; the shock value alone gives her an advantage in those situations. [Colors for her design: White again with only one color wtf im adding my own, Pale-Orange, Various Yellows. Closest Relationships: Capricorn and Taurus. Human Name: June.] Questioning Asexual

Sagittarius is one of those aggressively positive people, saying what they want with no filter. They don’t take any shit from anyone, no matter who they are. She’s very free-spirited, but she’s not unguided; she knows what she wants and when she wants it. She’s never really hurt by anything, brushing and laughing things off almost immediately. She can get quite impatient, to the point of childishly whining. I’d bet 50 bucks that she was the first Zodiac to “discover” alcohol. [Colors for her design: Blue, Deep Purples, Browns. Closest Relationships: Gemini and Aries. Human Name: Nova.] Butch Grey-Aromantic Homosexual/Femmesexual

Aquarius is an analytical and selfless individual. They approach solutions to situations practically and objectively, even if their heart tells them otherwise. They keep their emotions bottled up most of the time, and if they’re doing something, there’s a high chance they’re doing it for someone else. Before, that was okay, since it was just the Zodiacs; but on Earth, it makes her a bit of a doormat. She’s one of the more morally-misguided Zodiacs, and she can’t really identify when something is criminal. She has a hard time remembering that she can’t say things like “human pleasantries” or call people insignificant compared to herself. They like being alone a lot, but they’re not antisocial. [Colors for her design: Light-Blue, Silver. Closest Relationships: Leo and Sagittarius. Human Name: Aqua no she did not try.] Aromantic Asexual(will not kiss the homies u~u)

Capricorn is pretty much “i’m surrounded by idiots”, but they’re his idiots and he knows he loves them. He doesn't look anything special, but he can and will throw you across the room if you fuck with him or his idiots, especially when he’s tired. He is peak sarcastic bitch and has pretty solid bullshit detector. If one of the Zodiacs is asleep where they shouldn’t be or they’re just leaving somewhere, he usually hoists them over his shoulder. He’s generally reserved but the Hug Pile™, or really extreme amounts of platonic affection in general, make him really soft; half because he’s surprised that they honestly care for him that much. [Colors for his design: Brown, Black, Grey, Yellow, Yellow-Orange. Closest Relationships: Taurus and Cancer. Human Name: Kai.] Aromantic Asexual(will be kissed by the homies owo)

holy fukcing shit is that it. am i finally fucking done. oh sweet jesus im crying this took me so fucking long

sorry if anyone was worried about me, i’m fine. Art, drabbles, and headcanons for this are allowed, but please link this post and/or tag me(or just send it in asks). i’ll try to be productive on this, tho itll probably be in the form of mini scenarios and incorrect quotes.

Here are the songs that kept me from kms while i made this: Lost One’s Weeping by Neru, Namine Ritsu-Error by kyaami, Yukune Ruko-I Don’t Wanna Know by Narcissus, Nakakapagpabagabag by Dasu, Madness of Duke Venomania Eng Sub by IkuSuperbia, v flower-Close to You by kyaami, My Nocturnal Serenade by YOHIO, Len’s Growl-Ghost Rule by Teto Chan!, Fukase English-Never Gonna Give You Up, Fukase English-Your Reality.

pls feed me validation on this i tried so hard my brain hurts

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

EDINBURGH TO BOSTON - CHAPTER 16 - REACH OUT, I’LL BE THERE

Good Evening all! Here is the long-awaited next chapter of Edinburgh to Boston. Once again life has sent another challenge my way to cope with. There are days I cope well and other days. But,let’s not discuss that.

I also had another reason to keep this back until now.  This chapter deals with subjects that are relevant to the New Year: hope, forgiveness, new beginnings, peace. 

As always, I need to thank my most fabulous beta @scubalass​ who finds all my errors, inconsistencies and generally keeps me on the straight and narrow path. I could not do this without you. 🧡🤗

Another interesting item is that Hubby and I were watching a documentary on Motown and the song Reach Out, I’ll Be There came on. And all I could think about was that must be how Jamie feels about Claire as he listens to her. There is a youtube link at the end of the chapter for the song at the end.

I welcome any suggestions, thoughts, comments on the story. I would really like to hear what you think of this chapter.

So without further delay, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 16

Reach Out, I’ll Be There.

Now if you feel that you can't go on

Because all of your hope is gone,

And your life is filled with much confusion

Until happiness is just an illusion,

And your world around is crumblin' down;

Darling, reach out (come on girl, reach on out for me)

Reach out (reach out for me.)

I'll be there, with a love that will shelter you.

I'll be there, with a love that will see you through.

I'll be there to always see you through.

******************************

She yearned to touch him. Kneeling beside him, her hands hesitating above his head. The need to touch him intoxicated her, to feel his soft curls, the hardness of his bone and flesh, his warm breath on her skin. She needed to know him as real and alive under her fingertips. Whole. But she felt afraid to startle him out of his deep meditative state.

She spoke to him in a hushed tone not wanting to startle him. “Jamie, it’s me, Claire.”

Jamie lifted his head up slowly, not really sure what he is seeing. At first, he believes she is an illusion, an apparition conjured by his fatigued and distraught mind.  He blinks several times, clearing his vision. “Claire, is it truly ye? Sassen...” he looked up at her, unsure if he should use her pet name.

Claire saw how the night affected him, eyes swollen and red-rimmed, eyelashes damp with tears. 

 “Yes, it’s me your Sassenach,” she smiled, gently stroking his cheek feeling the soft scruff prickling under her touch. “I became worried sick when you didn’t come back.  I...I thought maybe you were hurt or lost or had an accident.  I had to find you. God, Jamie, don’t ever do that again to me,” she whimpered eyes glazing with tears threatening to escape their boundaries. 

Jamie struggled to rise from his recumbent position. His legs trembled and he labored to stand. They were stiff from disuse, cold from lying prone on the marble floor, and the remnants of his drunkenness hampered his progress. He looked like a newborn colt’s gangly first attempt to stand. Claire quickly moved to his side using her body to support him as he struggled to remain upright. After regaining his stability, he wrapped her tightly in his arms, pulling her close to his chest. “Claire.” Her name rippled off his tongue like the ruffling of sweet water flowing down a burn. 

Overwhelmed with emotion Claire began to sob. She clutched his jacket needing something to hold on to. 

He spoke tenderly to her, whispering comforting words in Gàidhlig into her hair.  “‘Tis alright a leannan. I’m here. Dinna be afraid.”

Tenderly he stroked her back comforting her as if she were a small child. Her weeping grew faint reducing itself to a quiet hiccuping sound. She looked up into his kind blue eyes and punched him in the chest. 

“Ow! What was that for?!” he demanded with a surprised look on his face.

“You scared me. I...I thought lost you. I was afraid you wouldn’t come back.” She trembled in his arms, “I thought you...” She hesitated, “When you didn’t come back, I thought it was because you didn’t want me anymore.” Claire buried her face into his chest nervous about his reaction.

“Not? Not want ye? For the love of God, woman, I want ye more than life itself. How could I no’ want ye? Yer the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Humph. Then why didn’t you come back?”

“Because I thought ye dinna want me.” He dropped his arms from around his beloved shifting his gaze to his shoes intently studying them as if something new and interesting happened to them.

 Turning away Jamie began to pace. His sound hand opened and closed into a fist. Anger and frustration pulsed through his veins. 

“I failed ye, Claire! Ye told me that yerself. Ye said I left ye there to fight him off, tae, tae defend yerself. And how do ye think that made me feel? Hmm?” he spat out angrily. “I kent I was wrong. ‘Tis bad enough that I kent it, but tae hear it from ye. By Christ, did ye need tae throw it in my face?” he fumed.  “Weel, after that I kent I was no’ man enough for ye.  Ye need someone better than me to care for ye. That...That ye deserve someone more capable than me as I couldna keep my word.” He stopped pacing, his back turned to her. “Ye ken tae a Highlander breaking a promise is a verra, verra serious thing. Did ye ken that? No, I dinna believe that ye do. ‘Tis a matter of honor and loyalty th...that yer word has value, meaning. That ye can be trusted. Christ, I couldna keep my promise to ye or to the damn wee birds!” Frustration and shame plagued him, his fingers erratically tapping against his thigh. 

He turned to face her, tears welling up from deep inside him running down his cheeks. “I’m nay good for ye. I came here and prayed for guidance. At the time I thought I was angry because ye dinna want tae have Frank arrested. Truth be told, it drives me mad that ye dinna.” His face was grim and taut with the thought of Frank escaping punishment.  “I understand why ye dinna want tae and I appreciate it. Not tae have the arrest record follow me for the rest of my professional life ‘tis a blessing. But, ye ken I woulda carried that weight for the rest of my life so ye could get justice.” He blew out a breath steadying himself. “Instead, what I found deep in my heart is that I am no’ man enough for ye. When ye needed me, I failed to protect ye as I swore tae do. I’m sorry Claire. Sae sorry for everything.” He turned and walked toward the exit leading back to the shelter. He had the appearance of a dejected man, shoulders slumped, head hanging low. “When I get back to Scotland, I’ll give in my resignation tae the hospital. I canna be yer partner anymore. Ye need someone ye can depend on. I’ll get my things and be out of yer life.”

“Go to him. Be with him. He needs you,” Brother Stan told her.

God Almighty, what have I done!? I’ve shattered this beautiful man, his beautiful soul. Do you see what your secrets have done Beauchamp? The damage you caused.

“JAMIE, WAIT.” Her voice echoed reverberating throughout the cavernous church waking the saints and angels to bear witness to her amende honorable before God and her man.

 Claire ran to him, blocking his way to the exit. She grabbed both arms, looked imploring up into his face, “Please Jamie, don’t go.”

“Lass, ye have a good heart. I ken ye feel the need tae forgive me. But I canna forgive myself for the dishonor I brought to ye, for being a disappointment tae ye. So if ye dinna mind,” Jamie’s hand went to break her hold on him.

“Please! Listen to me. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I haven’t been honest with you. I lied to you about Frank, about me, about our marriage. You need to hear the truth first. All of it. Please hear me out. Give me another chance.” She became frantic trying to make him understand, to listen to her. She took a deep breath having come to a decision that could possibly break her heart forever. “If after you listen, should you still want to leave then I’ll not stop you,” she bargained.

Jamie stopped struggling to escape her grasp on his arms. “Lass, what do ye mean ye lied tae me?” His lips drew taut in an angry thin line. The only thing that Jamie Fraser could not abide was a lie. “Ye lied to me about what?” he asked glaring at her.

Claire let out a breath she did not know she was holding. She rather risk his ire than have him reproach himself when he was blameless. 

“We need to sit. This is a long story. I only ask that you listen with all your heart and an open mind.”

The Scot looked at her quirking an eyebrow in question. “Alright let’s hear it then.”

Claire took him by the hand and led him to a pew. She looked up to the altar, uttered a silent prayer asking for strength to tell him the truth and to accept his ultimate decision.

Taking his hand in hers, she began her confession.

“Everything I told you about how Frank insinuated himself into Lamb and my life is true. He is a master manipulator. He convinced Lamb that he truly cared for me. His behavior could even be called gallant, respectful, courteous. But that all changed once we were married. He was jealous, and became abusive, especially when drunk.” 

She recounted the incident with poor Albert the young professor. “He had threatened Albert, and actually took a swing at him. Fortunately, because of Frank’s level of intoxication, his punch went wide completely missing him.”

She peaked at Jamie from under her lashes. His face remained unreadable.

“Frank grabbed my hand and we left the party. In the car park, he started yelling. He insinuated things, calling me a whore. Then he threatened to beat me.” She told him that was not the only time he had acted like that. There were other incidents, some that ended in violence toward an innocent but the cruelty directed toward her continually escalated.

“Frank is jealous of you and the claim he believes you have on me. He thinks I’m still his. When we divorced, he seized hold of my arm telling me.” Claire paused. She looked toward the chapel ceiling trying desperately to compose herself. She bit her bottom lip hard enabling the coppery taste of blood to fill her mouth. She straightened herself, squaring her shoulders, and looked deeply into Jamie’s calm blue eyes. “Frank said that the divorce meant nothing. He would never let me go. That I am his forever and any man who thought differently would end up being very sorry. He touched me to mark me hoping you would walk away thinking me his or tarnished.  What happened couldn’t have been avoided. He was hellbent on creating trouble.” She blew out a sigh, “I’m sorry for blaming you, Jamie. Neither you nor I could have stopped this from happening.”

When you feel lost and about to give up

'Cause your best just ain't good enough

And you feel the world has grown cold,

And you're drifting out all on your own,

And you need a hand to hold:

Darling, reach out (come on girl, reach out for me)

She continued with story after story. Stories about how he degraded her during her residency and fellowship. Implying the only reason she passed was because of his and Lamb’s influence. This only made Claire work harder to be recognized on her own merit. She became chief resident then chief fellow. She became a recipient of several prestigious awards for the research she did as a cardiac fellow. Despite this, Frank continued to claim her achievements were the result of his influence and not her excellence as a doctor.

Claire stopped talking. She raised her hands to her temples massaging the throbbing pain sitting there.

She resumed her tale continuing to pour her heart out to Jamie who sat expressionless and silent. Imperceptibly, his hand gravitated to hers which now rested in her lap. A thumb began to gently stroke her hand. His hand squeezed hers, supporting her, comforting her. Touching made the ordeal easier somehow. 

I can tell the way you hang your head,

You're without love and now you're afraid

And through your tears, you look around,

But there's no peace of mind to be found.

I know what you're thinkin',

You're alone now, no love of your own,

But darling, reach out (come on girl, reach out for me)

“Go on, lass. There’s more isn’t there?”

Claire bobbed her head up and down acknowledging his statement. Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, she pressed on with her story. “You recall,” she said with a shaky voice, “I told you that the box of love letters from Frank’s girlfriends fell, opening, and I read them. I also told you that I confronted him and he admitted to all the affairs. I said I struck him and went back to Lamb.  Well, the truth  is that I did find a box of letters, I lied about the rest.” The penitent, took a deep breath, exhaled and began. “What did happen was the day Frank found out he did not make tenure, he came home drunk. He threw me against the door, slapped and punched me in the face. When he was done with that, he grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head down on the dresser, and then.” Claire paused steeling her courage, “And then he raped me. My face was bruised, my mouth and lips were bloody. There were ecchymoses under my eye, my arms and thighs.  I fought him, but he was too strong. After he left, I packed my things and fled to Lamb’s place. That’s when I found the letters after I pulled my suitcase out of the closet.” 

“He broke me. He. Broke. Me. I was never the same after that.” She kept her eyes on him watching for his reaction. 

Jamie said nothing. His muscles tensed, and she saw his hand close ever so slowly into a white-knuckled fist. His eyes grew dark like black swirling thunderheads ready to unleash their fury. His breathing grew deeper, faster. A guttural growl emanated from the farthest reaches of his chest vibrating through him. The veins in his neck distended as blood coursed through them. They looked like great snakes undulating as they filled and emptied with each hammering beat of his heart.

She didn’t know how long had she spoke. It could have been minutes or hours. But she told him everything leaving out nothing. As she finished her account, Claire admitted, “No one outside of Lamb and Lamb’s lawyer knew any of this as I never told another soul.”

Hearing the details of her nightmare flooded Jamie with so many emotions, anger for the pain she suffered. Admiration for her strength and resiliency. Love. His love for her only deepened. It had no limit; it had no end. She was a survivor. And she was his.

“Why did ye no’ tell me, Claire?”

Looking down at her hands, she whispered, “I didn’t want to tell you for fear of what you would think of me. Tainted, damaged, useless. That you would believe the things Frank said about me. That you couldn’t, wouldn’t see me.” She sat up straighter, turned and looked her lad in the face. “If this is too much for you Jamie, I understand. If you want to go, well there’s no hard feelings, just go.” She gave him a small smile and sat waiting. 

She had the desire to cry, but would not. To do so would be to continue Frank’s hold over her. To let him continue to own her. By telling Jamie the truth, it liberated her. The demon was cast out and struck down. The exorcism complete. Her eyes strayed toward the shrine of St. Michael. The Archangel was renowned for slaying the dragon. At this moment, Claire felt a kinship with the saint for tonight she slew her own. She would not let Frank possess her ever again. She finally won her freedom.

Reach out (reach out for me.)

Just look over your shoulder

I'll be there, to give you all the love you need,

And I'll be there, you can always depend on me.

It seemed like an interminable length of time before Jamie spoke, “Mo nighean donn, yer a braw lass, sae brave, sae strong. I love ye Claire, but ye shoulda told me,” he admonished her. “Ye shouldna be carrying this alone. I have a broad enough back to carry this with ye.” His arms came and wrapped around her, pulling her to his chest, enveloping her in his love.

“I dinna want ye to ever feel ye canna tell me something, mo chridhe. Ye need to reach out for me, come tae me. I’ll always be here for ye. Always.” Gently he placed a delicate kiss on her crown tugging her even closer to him.

Claire looked up into his kind blue eyes, feeling the love therein. “There is another reason that I didn’t want to tell you all of this. Fear of what you would do it you ever met Frank. I bloody did not want you to kill him, James Fraser. I am a terrible baker.”

His brow furrowed with a look of puzzlement running across his face. “Lass, I dinna take yer meaning. What in hell are ye goin’ on about?” He looked up and stared directly at the altar. His face turned bright red with the realization of where he was and mumbled a heartfelt, “Pardon.”

She looked at him with a smirk on her face and a laugh waiting to erupt from her lips. “I don’t think I could bake a cake with a saw in so you could escape from jail.” Her eyes danced with the light of merriment and joy. The lines of pain and stress so long part of her visage were smoothed away. She positively glowed.

Jamie swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he attempted to stifle his own laugh. He rested his chin on the top of her head, “A nighean,” he sighed and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Ye’re daft woman, ye ken? But, I love ye fine and that’s all about that.”

Claire nestled against his chest feeling safe and loved and relieved.

They sat there immersed in their own little sphere of happiness. Not speaking, not moving, just being.

“Claire? Lass?” I think it’s time we go.”

“Mmm, yes I think we should go too. I’ve had enough of Boston, Jamie. Take me home. Home to Scotland.” 

“Aye, Scotland,” he choked with emotion.

They walked together fingers interlaced toward the exit through the shelter.  Claire helped Jamie into his overcoat and placed his beanie on his head. She quickly prepared herself for a wintery blast as well. They found Brother Stan at his work, comforting all who needed it.

“Thank ye Brother for everything. I’ll never forget ye,” Jamie clasped the cleric’s hand warmly.

Claire leaned forward giving the clergyman a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you for looking after him.”

“Go with God, go in peace, go in love,” he wished the couple. 

“And,” winking at Jamie “don’t beat up any more trees, eh?”

With his head bowed, a grin on his face, Jamie responded, “Trust me,  Brother, they are safe from me.”

Claire took out her mobile ordered a car to take them to their next destination.

************

They arrived back at the hospital for one final check on Jamie’s hand. A confirmatory X-Ray revealed no new breaks just some new bone bruises. Dr. Nelson, visibly annoyed with his recalcitrant patient placed a brace over the injured hand immobilizing and protecting it from further damage.

“Dr. Fraser,” he reprimanded harshly, “You need to take better care of your hands. Unless of course, you don’t want to operate anymore,” he inquired raising a questioning eyebrow.  

Jamie, rather shamefaced replied, “Aye, I do. ‘Twas foolish and careless of me. It willna happen again. Thank ye for yer care, Dr. Nelson. Truly.”

Once again, they bid their farewells to the staff and hurriedly headed once more to the hotel.

 *********************************

The fatigue from the previous day dragged at their heels. Sleep though would remain elusive as preparations for their departure took precedence. Each surgeon took turns washing their faces and brushing their teeth hoping a modicum of cleanliness would keep their exhaustion at bay. 

Claire began the task of packing their suitcases while Jamie spent his time trying to find an earlier flight home.

He watched as Claire sorted their things methodically and neatly packing. Despite the smile on her face, he could see her desire to be away from here and safe in the embrace of Scotland.

As he dialed the airline he prayed, “God dinna let me fail her this time. I need tae get her away from here, from the memories and the pain. Please.”

“Good morning! Alba Airlines this is Ainslie. How may I assist ye?” chirped a feminine voice on the other end of the phone.

“Good morning tae ye. This is Dr. James Fraser and I’m wondering do ye have any available seats leaving today from Boston to Edinburgh, for two?” 

“One moment sir.” Jamie could hear the clicking of the keyboard as Ainslie typed finding their reservation information to leave Boston in three days; time. The representative hummed softly as she searched for any vacant seats.

“Dr. Fraser,” she said exuberantly, “It just so happens that a couple canceled their flight for today. That flight leaves at 9:50 PM. Would that be alright?”

“Aye, lass that would be fine.  Please make the reservation for Dr. James Fraser and Dr. Claire Beauchamp.” 

“Dinna worry Dr. Fraser, I will make all the necessary arrangements for ye and Dr. Beauchamp.”

“Thank ye kindly, lass.” 

“Sassenach, ‘tis all arranged. Our flight is at 9:50 PM.  ‘Tis a bit late, but at least we leave today. Alright?”

She comes and stands between his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck.  Slowly Claire bends and places a kiss to his cheek. “You’re a magician. How did you manage it?”

Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him resting his head on her abdomen, “‘Twas naught but a wee bit of luck.”

“Well, whatever you did, I’m glad of it,” she smiled tenderly at him.

He looked at her with hungry eyes, pulled her down to sit on his knee. “I love ye, mo chridhe, always.” 

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck pressed her forehead against his whispering, “And I you, forever.”

Jamie took in the face that was his heart. His lass’s face glowed in the soft light. Her eyes soft like a fine sherry, her skin like pearl, and her lips. Ah, her lips blushed like pink rosebuds, plump and sweet, begging to be kissed and kissed often. Slowly, his hand reached up cupping her cheek as his thumb traced her lips. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her, ravage her mouth with his. Possess her. But he couldn’t. Not after her revelations. He simply could not come to her like a brute blind with need. No. That would never do.

“Claire. Lass, I would. I’d like verra much to kiss ye. May I?”  

“Yes,” she whispered while nuzzling his cheek.

Their lips came together tentatively at first, just a mere touching. Claire moved to deepen the kiss.  Her lips parted and her tongue danced across his lips seeking entry. Jamie startled, then yielded to her request. Their tongues moved in a tantalizing rhythm of their own making swirling, tasting. Her hands tangled in the silken curls at his nape. His hand brushed across her back caressing her luxuriating in the feel of her body against his.  And suddenly he broke the kiss. He stared at her. Her face was flushed with passion, eyes smoldering, lips kiss swollen. 

She fisted his shirt, “I want you, now,” she whimpered.

Jamie rested his forehead against hers, “No, a nighean, no’ here in this place of heartache and sorrow. I dinna want ye tae recall our joining here to be tainted with the memories of what happened with Frank last night.” He paused, considering what he wanted to say next. “Ye deserve better my own. I need to love ye in a place that belongs only to us. A place of love. No’ a place where we try tae erase memories but a place where we make them.” He took her hand and kissed each of her knuckles,  “I need tae take my time so I can serve ye rightly. No’ like this,” his voice low and sultry. “We’ll have time when we return to Scotland. Then I swear I mean to make ye moan and weep, even if ye dinna wish tae. I mean tae make ye sigh and scream with the wanting. And at the last, tae cry out my name. Then and only then shall I know that I served ye well.”

Claire leaned forward bit the shell of his ear and murmured, “I’ll keep you to that promise, Jamie Fraser. Do not disappoint me.” 

She stood and noticed an errant sock on the floor. Bending all the way over to pick it up, she displayed, according to James Fraser, her finest asset and gave it a slight wiggle. Slowly the tease stood up sock in hand. She heard a small groan and mutterings in Gàidhlig. 

“Good,” she thought. “That should teach him not to trifle with her.”  

Turning her head around to look over her shoulder, she gave him her most coquettish looks, “I’m going to take a shower.” Claire walked toward the bathroom with an unmistakable sway to her hips. Her lover’s grumbling became louder.

Claire showered, towel-dried, wrapped her hair in a towel and dressed in her robe. She felt relaxed from the heat of the water. The warmth from the shower induced a feeling of calmness and bone-weary tiredness causing her to struggle to keep her eyes open.

How many hours had it been since she had a decent night’s sleep Claire wondered? Too many. She could not recall when she last had a full night’s sleep. But it really didn’t matter how long she had gone without sleep. She would gladly do it again and again and again. For him. She is the keeper of his heart and soul. Never again would she let harm come to him. Nothing else mattered only Jamie. She could not, would not let anything or anyone come between them. He was hers.  

Walking out of the bathroom, the bed looked enticing. It called to her seducing her with a magnetic force she was powerless to resist. Claire tugged on his shirt that she had napped in earlier along with fresh panties. Climbing onto the bed, she stretched out waiting for Jamie to join her after his shower.  The pull of slumber, however, was too great. Slowly her head began to slump forward only to jerk her back into wakefulness as she felt her head drop.

Jamie followed suit, still mumbling his irritation to himself as he entered the bathroom. He quickly showered succumbing to the peace and tranquility of his ablutions. He felt purified somehow.  The pain, tension, and worry were washed away and circling down the drain. He released himself from the stress of the past day and surrendered to his exhaustion. 

How long has it been since he was this tired, he wondered? Probably not since his medical internship. Shite, that was a long time ago and he thought he was feeling his age. I’m tae old tae be doing this sort of thing, he scolded himself. He looked up and thought about the Sassenach in the other room.  I may be too old for this, but she’s worth it. He chuckled to himself. Aye, I’d walk through the fires of hell and back for her. He knew he would willingly suffer more than a few sleepless nights for her because he loved her more than life itself.

He came out of the bathroom with the towel slung low over his hips. He rootled around in his suitcase finding his sleep pant. As he pulled them on he caught a glance of Claire sitting on the bed her head bobbing as she struggled to remain awake. Climbing into bed he drew her to him.

“Sassenach, we need to sleep awhile. Let me hold ye. Come, lass lay yer head down.” They lay together spoon fashion. Jamie wrapping one arm around her chest while the other lay across her abdomen. He felt the steady thrum of her heart becoming soothed by it. Claire snuggled closer, her arse nestled in his groin. She mumbled, “I love you.” 

“I love ye too, mo ghràdh.” They closed their eyes yielding to the narcotic of sleep.

A hazy winter’s afternoon light cast about the room. Early shadows crept up the walls. 

Jamie woke first. He was lying on his back and his Sassenach curled into his side, her head resting on his chest. She snored lightly as she slept. His hand came around moving her curls off her face allowing him to study her in repose. She looked relaxed.  The usual lines around her eyes and mouth were gone. She mumbled something incoherent and gave a wee chuckle. She was dreaming.  He hoped she was happy. He hoped she was dreaming of him and that he was making her happy. Placing a gentle kiss to her hair, he closed his eyes thinking just for a few minutes more.

The room was dark. The weak winter light had long gone. Claire’s eyes blinked adjusting to the dimness of the room. She became aware of Jamie’s slumbering form next to her, breathing gently, hands folded across his chest. He looked like one of the tomb figures she had seen during her travels with Lamb. All that was needed to complete this picture was a little dog asleep at his feet. 

She snuggled against him, inhaling his sleepy scent. Masculine. She exhaled contentedly and then saw the clock blinking angrily 5:01 PM. 

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, we have to be at the airport by 7:30 PM. 

“Wake up! Jamie! Wake up! We need to get ready to leave.”

Jamie became instantly awake, jumping out of the bed scanning the room for threats of danger. Seeing none, he turned his attention to Claire.

“What’s amiss lass?”

Claire was hopping around on one leg trying to shimmy into her jeans. “We need to leave for the airport soon. Don’t we need to take care of the bill? We didn’t even tell them we were leaving. We need to get a car. Jamie, why are you standing there looking at me like that? We need to hurry.”

He sat down heavily on the bed scrubbing his face with his hands. “Lass, dinna do that again. Ye scared me to death. I took care of everything while ye were in the shower. There is nae bill. I spoke with the manager about shortening our stay. He was no’ happy at first, but I convinced him otherwise. Then the wee mannie could no’ do enough. It was aye Dr. Fraser, of course, Dr. Fraser.” Jamie chortled to himself.

Claire gave him a side-long look. “Exactly what did you do to make him so, shall we say, agreeable?”

“Oh, no’ much,” Jamie replied with a broad smile on his lips. “I just insinuated that if word got around about what happened last night the publicity may no’ be in his favor, aye?” His cat-eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Jamie you didn’t!”

“I did.” he snorted. “The man was being a right arse.”

“You know I would never allow that to happen. It would be too embarrassing!”

“I ken it, but he doesna. And Padrick will pick us up at 6 P. M. to take us to the airport.”

“You devious…”

“I am.” With that, he fell backward onto the bed laughing until tears leaked out.

“I told ye Sassenach, I would take care of ye, did I no?” He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.

“Yes, you did. You didn’t say how though.” She shakes her head. Claire came closer to him placing a soft kiss on his lips, “Ridiculous man.”

“But ye love me.?” It was both a statement and a question.

“Very much so.” 

They finished packing their bags, dressed quickly and went to the lobby to wait for Padrick.

Seeing Jamie, Pierre the maitre d’hotel surreptitiously approached him. “Dr. Fraser, if I might have a word with you? In private.” He grabbed Jamie by the coat sleeve pulling him into a small out of the way alcove where they would not be observed.  “I know the Madame did not wish a list of names who witnessed the umm, shall we say, the occurrence of last night. However, I took it upon myself to create such a list.” 

He handed Jamie a list of the patrons of the restaurant with statements of what they observed duly notarized. It also contained names and contact information should there be a need to testify on behalf of  Dr. Beauchamp.

“The Madame is such a lovely lady and the man un foutu de salaud,un fils d'une pute. He shall never step inside this restaurant again,” he growled.  “I am so sorry this happened to her. Would you keep this for her should she ever need it?” He pressed the envelope into Jamie’s hand.

Jamie overwhelmed from the gentleman’s kindness clasped his shoulder with gratitude. “Merci, mon Amie.” He took the envelope and placed inside his coat’s inner pocket.

“Le plaisir était pour moi, Monsieur.” Pierre bowed and left.

Claire waited impatiently for him in the lobby. Upon seeing him, she glared at him suspiciously, “Where were you?” She had the feeling he was up to something that he did not want her to know about.

Thinking quickly and not completely telling a lie, “I thanked Pierre for his assistance last night, Sassenach. He also assured me that the villain wouldna be allowed back in his establishment.” Jamie said that with no little satisfaction.  He liked the idea of Frank being ostracized from the brasserie.  It was some mark of justice.  

He clasped her chin raising her head up and brushed his lips across hers, “Come Sassenach, our car awaits.”

Padrick the ever-present chauffeur loaded their luggage into the boot and swiftly departed for the airport.

Jamie and Claire arrived at the airport making their way to the Alba Airline terminal. 

“‘Twill be good to be home, Sassanech, do ye no’ agree?”

“Yes, I do,” she sighed with relief at the prospect of leaving Boston.

They found seats in the waiting area and made themselves as comfortable as possible.

“Do ye remember when we left Edinburgh, lass, ye were busy staring at my arse? Did it live up to yer expectations, then?” he said smugly.

“If you must know,” she sat there contemplating. “Hmm, well I would say umm…”

“Fer Christ’s sake, Claire, is it or is it no???” He seemed rather annoyed that her answer was not immediately forthcoming. 

It seems that men even beautifully made men like Jamie, had body-image issues, not unlike women.

Claire looked at him eyes twinkling, “Did I offend you, Fraser? Yes, you have the finest arse I have ever seen or will ever want to see. Better?”

“Yes.” He looked very cross his lip jutting out like a petulant little boy who had been told he could not have a treat. Claire gave him a jab in the ribs and gave him a wry smile. They looked at each other, chins quivering and began to laugh. “I love ye, lass, ye ken it. But yer wicked in yer ways.”

The PA system crackled to life.

Flight 8389 Boston to Edinburgh International Airport now boarding at Gate 34. Please have yer boarding passes ready.

Home.

A/N:

Amende honorable -- was originally a mode of punishment in France which required the offender, barefoot and stripped to his shirt, and led into a church or auditory with a torch in his hand and a rope around his neck held by the public executioner, to beg pardon on his knees of his God, his king, and his country; now the term is used to denote a satisfactory apology or reparation. Amende honorable forbade revenge.

Un foutu de salaud,  -- fucking bastard

 Fils d'une pute. --  son of a whore   

Le plaisir était pour moi, Monsieur  --  The pleasure is all mine, sir.

The song: Reach Out (I’ll Be There) was performed by the Four Tops. 

Released: 1966

Songwriter(s): Holland–Dozier–Holland

Youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqFz7T5v3iU

[failure-friendly]

How to Stop Burnout - the unexpected solution (It’s not more ‘self-care’)

I was burning out every second week, sleeping the weekends away, burdened by the guilt of letting people down when I couldn’t keep my commitments, and I was pissed off that I had zero energy for me. 

‘Enough!’ I finally snapped. With a mission to become more productive, consistent and in control - I began researching burnout. I was going to hack my way out of the vicious cycle that was stealing my confidence. 

Boundaries (saying ‘no’ to others) and self care (saying ‘yes’ to yourself). That was what the internet told me to do. I found that attempting to hold boundaries and maintain rigorous self care routines without first dealing with why you’re people pleasing yourself to death - is a recipe for even more burnout! Next.

Inconsistent vs Cyclical, that was my big discovery and the quick fix I wanted. My research led me to what every female used to be taught at the initiated of their first period. This is what I learnt: 

The moon has a 28 day cycle in which it changes from full, to half, into total blackness, and then to half again. Females also have a 28 day cycle. This is not an insignificant coincidence. Men’s hormone levels (where they get their energy) rise high in the morning and fade into the evening - just like the sun. Meaning everyday they have the same amount of energy, they’re designed to smash out workouts or work earlier in the day and switch off into the evening.

Women’s hormone levels are very different, they rise and fall according to where they are in their 28 day cycle. We need different hormones to menstruate and a very different hormone cocktail to ovulate. Like the moon, sometimes we’re full of energy and other times our light fades. We are designed to be reflective and still in the week that we bleed, then a powerhouse of energy the week we ovulate, an abundant nurturer the week after we ovulate and then more reclusive or nurtured in a premenstrual week. 

If you compare a woman's energy to a man’s it seems very inconsistent, changing rapidly from day to day. But if you zoom out you’ll see that we are extremely consistent to a rhythm of our own. When you know what’s coming and what you need in each phase of the cycle, it doesn’t have to be a rollercoaster!

The hero’s journey. This was a very important piece of the puzzle that helped solve my burnout problem. The hero’s journey is a metaphorical story used to teach the universal truth: we need to go through some shit, shitty experience that brings us face to face with our fears, that challenge us, makes us want to quit but force us to reach inside of ourselves and overcome, emerging from the darkness stronger than before, as a hero. (The premise of not only every movie you’ve ever seen but also all ancient mythology and religious teachings). 

Our culture today glorifies the easy and convenient, struggle is something to be avoided at all costs, making us unequipped to deal with difficulty. The hero’s journey normalises hard times and reminds us they are an important part of life, because on the other side of heartache there is wisdom. It’s a lesson. 

It took me a minute to embrace my cycle. I wanted to skip the slow energy side and just ‘man up’, be in that addictive fiery ovulation energy all day everyday. So of course I continued to burnout but each time I would wonder what was the lesson in the burnout. Each time I sat with the discomfort I began to uncover mind blowing, empowering truths. Such as:

Productivity is overrated. 

Without taking the time to get clear, slow down and reflect, ask why we’re doing it, what is working and not working, is there a simpler way, is it making us happy - we just make more and more of the same old boring shit. We end up creating more work for ourselves rather than results, we make silly mistakes that could have been avoided if we just cleared our heads, and we fail to notice great opportunities that are right in front of us. Action without rest is insane, it’s imbalanced, unsustainable and suicidal. Realising this illuminated to me how toxic my work environment (and mind) had become. Everyone jacked up on testosterone, trying to work harder and faster, doing more, more, more. To rest and reflect was considered lazy and not okay. It was killing us all, but especially the women whose health is jeopardized by too much testerone. It was a problem deeper than stress, the toxicity was rooted in misogyny. It’s not just women who have been labeled inferior but feminine traits like sharing emotions, nurturing safe spaces and taking time to reflect. I began to value mental clarity over busyness, I stopped trying to do everything and just excelled at what made sense. I saw and felt it working which gave me the confidence to push back whenever the ‘more, more, more’ voices started nagging. 

Consistency is boring.

When I stopped fighting my cycle and accepted that I wasn’t designed to perform consistently at the same level everyday, I realised how clever the patriarchy was. To my surprise the slow times were not wasted time at all, on the contrary! When you align your energy with what’s happening inside you, you tap into a huge power that I will struggle to put into words. If you’ve ever had a difficult mediation experience where you couldn’t slow your mental chatter, it’s like the opposite of that. It’s easy stillness, wombing, where healing and release can happen, which gives you greater cleaner energy, truths and next steps reveal themselves, and you can feel a magnetic pull from inside you making it easy to manifest what you desire. It’s a dreamy place that I’d choose over hustling and grinding any day! It may not look like much from the outside but it’s powerful, it recharges you in a way that 50 billion coffees never could. Your actions may be slower here but they are magnetised. If you really embrace the slow times you will emerge with what feels like superhuman capabilities in your ovulation week, which will more than make up for the perceived loss of productivity. It does hurt to find out you’ve been fed a lie and taught to devalue the very thing that holds your power, so that you actively disempowered yourself. But like in the hero’s journey, this hurt is the source of much healing, wisdom and empowerment. 

Control is the root of all evil. 

After a few hero’s journeys the answer was staring me in the face, the way to stop burning out and feeling like I wasn’t in control of my energy, was to surrender. It wasn’t necessarily my work, or the fact that I had a cycle that was burning me out, it was the way I kept fighting the current of my own nature, trying to control it. It takes way more energy to suppress nature than it does to go with it. 

Every time my body told me I needed rest and I refused, I was adding fuel to the fire. On top of that I spent precious energy punishing myself for not being able to keep going. Now if I feel really tired I might take a guilt free mental health day and recharge, rather than pushing through for another week making myself sick and needing to take a few days of sick leave. It wasn’t just me that I wanted to control. If things didn’t unfold the way I envisioned I burnt way more energy being frustrated and trying to force things back. When things unfold differently to what  we expect - that’s interesting. Who’s to say it’s worse and not better, who’s to say the lessons learnt through that experience aren’t more valuable than if everything went to plan. Also, that’s life, nothing goes according to plan so lamenting it or forcing it is a waste of your limited energy! It’s asking for burnout. Instead of seeking to control the uncontrollable, it’s healthier to practice belief in yourself, resilience and compassion for when the plot inevitably twits. Surrendering, especially for a recovering control freak, is easier said than done. It’s terrifying. But just as it’s a myth that rest is lazy, it’s a myth that surrender is defiet. Surrender is freedom. As you release the energy spent worrying about everything that could go wrong, you feel that energy returning to you. More focus, more clarity, more you. 

So my quest to conquer burnout didn’t go as I expected. Instead of finding more productivity, consistency and control, I found balance. By matching my very masculine perspective of action taking and goal seeking with a gentler feminine perspective of reflection and surrender I found a powerful balance. A balance that has stopped me from falling into a heap over and over again. 

Now I move like the tides now. I flow freely from high energy to slow energy, trusting my body when it tells me to rest or to run, knowing there is a reason for every season. Hallelujah. 

Practical ways to find your rhythm: 

Download a period tracking ap (Clue is my fave)

Download a full moon ap (especially if you don’t have a period, run on the full moon, rest on the new). 

Listen to the Period Queen Podcast (4 episodes, on for each phase of the cycle)

Read Goddess Wisdom by Taniska

Get less artificial light after dark, do more moon bathing. 

Spend time with mother nature (feminine energy).

Purchase Failure Friendly Action Cards to learn self belief and self compassion. 

[clementineesotsm]

THE KING: ETERNAL MONARCH EP 5, My Appreciation and How It Made Me Feel

This going to be a hell long writings because this have been my most anticipated episode.

King is in Korea again finally. To pay his debt to Nari and take away tae eul. I enjoy the aesthetic shot and camera movements. 1 thing that was interesting, Nari write down “She’s Gone” on the board to inform people that Maximus was not here anymore. But seeing KSJ looking at it, it kind of tells him that Tae Eul is gone too. I love the analogy.

Because she is now in Corea with Gon and pretty much took Lady Noh and Jo Yeong by surprise. We got an explanation of the space between 1 and 0. I love how they called it that. And also i remember during Marvel’s end game im looking so much stuff of quantum mechanic, just curious about the quantum realm that helps them to go through time and space. That is why im excited to see it in this series too. They are using Quantum Tunelling theory same as end game. This space in between world has a rule and its different in every movie, what similar to end game was time flow differently. In TKEM 1 minute here equal to 1 hour outside. There were no wind, no air and no light here. Gon tells us that he was exploring this place for days and using euler’s number to count, which led many people to make their own theories and i love to read it ! I love this fandom, you smart geek 💕 and what makes me love Gon even more, here he shows that he was not greedy to found out more about the place, Since at least in the meantime he only need to know how to back and forth between Korea and Corea. Usually people who love science will have this greed to explore more, but Gon seems to know his priority and will explore later when needed. I love realistic boy 💕 They got critiziced badly for the bad cinematography, and im glad they listen to it and make it better and darker later in the series. But for me, this pinkish is fine.

The next scene was hilarious, we got to see JTE trying to figure out what is going on and try to prove many things in her way. Nicely executed. And i might say, that JTE is the main character of this episode, because we will saw her character development here and damn great acting by KGE. Im a fan now. Also i will always praised Jo Yeong. He is a very good actor. JY realized that JTE is this woman that Gon has been looking for his entire life.

Just wanted to appreciate more of the backsound used in this particular scene, Fantasia from Another Dimension. All praised for whoever make it and know exactly where to used it in which scene. Because it added the value of the scene and the series. Also to Gon appereance. Here, especially when Gon says “Welcome to my palace” . I mean, wow.

Lady Noh pissed and being overprotective to Gon. But its understandable. Now its JTE turn to be a stranger with no identity. As she said “You reap what you sow” . I appreciate Lady Noh professionalism here, eventhough she is a close person to Gon, but Gon is still a King here. There still boundaries and she knows that line and never crossing it. I adore this line of her to JTE “I should trust you, You’re my King’s guest” and bow. 👏🏼👏🏼 also i love how she scolded Gon. And Gon actually obedient to her words. Im soft for them.

Gon’s is back to work and planning to make a meal for JTE, which startled the hell out of SA and JY. Btw, both JY and SA should date because they were cute af. We only got to see a little of both, i want more 🥺

Just to appreciate the parallel scene as what we saw in episode 1, where JTE saw money with Gon face and teased him about it being monopoly money and teased him whether he buys many land. Here we saw Gon teased her upon seeing her hands in a red stamp and asking “did you sign a contract or something? Did you buy a land?” I just loved it. I also like on how JTE is still pretty much relax around Gon even when she knows he is a King. She casually asking his phone left unlocked for her to search something later. I think Gon’s line here was funny “who would even try to look through a King’s phone? No passcode” 🤣 Their bickering also funny. Gon expecting JTE appreciate the food he is making but JTE teased him by saying it taste bad, and how Gon look at JTE while she eat, is love, i love them, somebody help me. What i also realized here is that Gon also really relax when he is with JTE, he can be himself around her. He let go his upright posture, for example, we can see from his sitting posture, he is leaning to the chair unbothered. But when Lady Noh bark into the room he is back to his stiff posture.

Appreciation for this line “Is it far to the right or to the left of my room?” Gon’s smirk and Lady Noh’s face 🤣

The conversation between JTE and Lady Noh’s was quite bitter. She answer JTE question about how people here knows her, she explain that King has a strange ID with your name and face but it looks fake because no one in this world have this identity as stated on the ID card. “But that nonexistent person, suddenly appeared here. Its shocking. Everything is just absurd, but one thing im sure about. An existence that cannot be explained will only bring chaos to the world, and it will only harm our King” Lady Noh’s told JTE not to be curious about this world and not try to stay, she says “By “this world”, i mean, including, the King” im amazed by this line and how this Lady say it. Bitter truth. She is just being protective to the King.

JTE seems to think about Lady Noh’s words so much and bothered by it. I think she kinda wants to go home because he asked Gon when he will show her ID card. This conversation between Gon and JTE also gave us a glimpse of what a bad shooter Gon was. And led to us confusion and for me personally this led to me doubting many things of Gon savior on 1994 🤡 This bedroom scene was intense though, those who said both of them dont have chemistry better do an eye check or maybe somethings wrong with your heart, because the tension here was high, i mean their line here was iconic af

JTE “내가 뭐 하나 물어불 테니까 ‘예’, ‘아니요’로만 대답해” (im going to ask you something, so just answer with yes or no)

Gon “물어봐” (ask me)

JTE “연애 한 번도 안 해 봤지?” (You’ve never dated before, right?)

Gon “깜짝이야, 아닌데? 해 봤는데” (you startled me, you wrong, i have)

JTE “언제 해 봤는지 맞혀 불까?” (Should i guess when?)

Gon “맞혀 봐” (guess)

JTE “지금” (now)

And the music stop before Gon come closer to JTE and KISS HER SO SOFT then the piano continues to play, IM DEAD!

I love how JTE startled and open her eyes to analized what is happening and kind of give me a sight of her being curious in this whole new experience even the kiss. I love her acting!

Gon “내가 방금 뭘 증명했는지도 맞혀 봐. 연애해 본 거? 아니면, 지금 연애하는 거?” (Try guessing what i just proved. The fact that i’ve dated before? Or that im dating right now?” 💕

I still very mad that i dont get this piano backsound in the original ost! Why!!!! This piano play is everything and added the tension of this scene.

I dont know what else happens last night but Gon came to JTE room and said “I told you to sleep well but i guess you didn’t” 🤓 he has a plan to bring JTE out by pretending to be his bodyguard for a day slash wants to show off to his girlfriend that he is cool at work 😎 Lady Noh’s is such a party pooper however she dont have any choice but to let this weird King do his plan 💕

NO PICTURE TOGETHER 🤣

To be continue..

[youthagainstrape]

Porn:- An addiction needed to be stopped

Porn:- Porn is a short/long video or any printed thing, which has sensational aspects thing on it. Both men and women see porn. Nowadays youth is much connected to it. Porn is also a reason for rape cases. It is mistaken and when somebody sees it they then this is easy and everybody does the same but that’s defiantly not the case. Effect of Porn on Teenagers Depression and Loss of Interests: When a young person is being exposed to the challenges of life, they need to cope. Often, they are under-resourced to do so emotionally – partly because their brain is still forming, and teenagers usually encounter many challenges. Porn is a dopamine volcano that can boost a teen out of a funk. It is overwhelming and exciting to the brain, and it can quickly be associated with feeling better. Further, it is part of the nature of curiosity and exploration of sexuality – except that it is a lie that can consume them. Sadly, depression sets in when we become beholden to a shameful, secretive and brain chemistry-altering stimulus. Seeking this stimulus, keeping it hidden and managing nagging shame can consume a teen. Depression naturally lowers enjoyment in other things teens may have liked and made them more susceptible to return to porn. Video game addiction also functions in a similar manner and often co-occurs with pornography use. Lying, Stealing and Secrets: If a teen has increased the number of lies they tell and the secrets they hide, it is worth noting! People often assume these are natural actions of teenagers who are “finding their way.” This is true to some extent, yet if we take a step back, we can usually trust our internal sense of when this is growing into a problem. Further, if you have any money or cards stolen, passwords changed, the “password reset email” (when you didn’t activate it), etc., you shouldn’t blindly look the other way. Shame is the best friend of lying, stealing, and secrets. Don’t expect a quick or easy confession, and don’t press hard for one! This is more likely to make the teen go further into hiding. Extended Late Nights Yes, teens often stay up late, but if this falls into an unhealthy pattern, it is likely serving some purpose. It is important to teen can account for their actions and use of time. Debilitating Pursuit of Immediate Gratification: Again, this is common among teens, but it should be monitored. If your teen can’t move away from pleasure-seeking behavior, this either is causing them problems, or it will. A relentless search that negates the necessary tasks of growing up (school, chores, sleep, relationships, etc.) is a sign of something wrong. Technology Obsession: The previous point ties in with technology obsession. Teens with unfiltered and unmonitored access to internet-enabled devices are at great risk. Technology (including games) can quickly become addictive, and an inability to not use it is problematic. It is important to monitor the device history and downloads. You will quickly discover if inappropriate content is being accessed, or deleted or covered up (especially if history is consistently missing). You must get familiar with the technology your teens are using – including websites, apps, devices, etc. Truth of Porn:& Many people are mistaken by considering that what happens in the video that they have to do the same without any parameters. They just see the video they don’t go behind the scene. The truth is they do it for money and there is a whole industry of it. They sign a contract and then shoot the video according to it. They have their own thing and they follow. Role of Sex Education to stop Porn Sex Education is important now. Many of the teenagers don’t know what actually they are seeing because they are getting exposure to the world. In the meantime, if they don’t get the real guide or knowledge about it then it can be very harmful. Sex education is very vital to stop porn as the person who knows and has proper knowledge understands what is wrong and what is right. In addition, there are several things you should know about check out the blog on sex education on our platform. Ways to Stop Porn Addiction Key Points To Remember For Parents (Parental Guide): Start an ongoing, age-appropriate conversation about sex early. The child is more likely to be responsive and find you safe. Teach them. It is your responsibility as a parent. Place boundaries and safeguards. Explain to them as appropriate. Make space for hard conversations when you least want them – and when they most want them! Talk about sex and process your struggles with your partner. You need to know where you stand and have a strong starting place. Get expert help if you need it. Key Points For teens:- Take help of experts Understand the negative effect you can go through due to porn addiction you have to delete all the materials related to it Learn to control your trigger (feeling to see porn or do the activity) One thing is trying to cut down the times every day. (If you are watching porn 6 times a week then make it 3 then 1 then 0. Make a goal in small parts) Focus on doing other activities more so that you don’t get time to see. How To Approach Your Teenager Firstly, if you have evidence of pornography use, it is likely you don’t know the entire story. If you have evidence, the first thing to do is check that it didn’t come from someone else in the home – seriously. Then, bring the evidence to your teen at a time they are most likely to engage with you (if this is never, then make your best decision). You should non-judgmentally let them know what you found. Ask them about it, without venom, tears, accusation or anything else! Be calm and genuine. You need to be safe for them to move toward, and you need to deal with your own emotions, Don’t put that burden onto the teen. Wait on their response and gently bring it back around to the question if they sidetrack. Express how you care about them and want the best for them. Let them know what you think they might be feeling (shame, fear, anger) and acknowledge that you “get that” and it makes sense. Reassure them you aren’t judging them and are willing to walk with them in their experience. Listen, listen, listen if they are talking! When appropriate, move to explain the myth of pornography – that is normal that they would enjoy it, and that you disagree with their continued use of it and why. Your values should be communicated, as should the support you will give to your teen. The safer you become, the more they are likely to share. If you suspect something, follow the same steps as above. Start by initiating a conversation about porn from a sexually exploitative viewpoint (such as a sexualized billboard or ludicrous movie scene). Start with something like, “You know… as I saw X, it made me wonder about how all this over-sexualized stuff is impacting you?” Don’t be condescending, fake or make accusations. Do, however, get to a pornography discussion. They will more likely respect straight talk! Conclusion:-. The people who are in videos or in an industry they are not wrong. They are doing their work. However, the people who see it without knowing the real thing and do the wrong thing by inspiring seeing the video are wrong. Otherwise, Sunny Leone also does charity and many others have their family. Therefore, knowing the real part of it is important and not following it is better than doing the wrong thing. It can be harmful to society as well as to yourself.

[eleventybiillion]

Dating

Remember when I said I was gonna get real personal? Yeah, it's happening right the fuck now. I signed up for a dating site. A few weeks ago. I may have been really drunk when I did it and my status with my ex was, uh. Questionable. I also may be really drunk right now as I write this. Which just means no filter, so have fun.

So now I'm dating. For real. That kind of dating you're supposed to do in your early 20s when you're not still dating that One Guy you've had an on-and-off thing with since your freshman year of high school. And I wish I could say I'm enjoying it, but the truth is, it's flaring up some of the worst anxieties I have about myself and the pain I've experienced from past relationships.

Since I was maybe 12, I've been putting myself down, relying on self-deprecating humor to brand myself as "the funny one" in all my friend groups because I felt that was the only thing I had to offer. And even then, I often felt so painfully unfunny that I just wanted to remove myself from everyone around me because I had no redeemable qualities.

This view of myself carried over into every aspect of my life. Especially relationships. It was a big deal when I decided to open up and be vulnerable to someone. Because I'd carried this notion that I wasn't worthy of anyone's time, affection, attention, or love for a significant chunk of my life.

The first person I ever opened up to completely was my ex, Duncan. We met in middle school, started dating in high school, and ended up in an on-and-off thing for almost ten years. He was (and still is) my best friend. But things happened, we broke up, and he ended up killing my trust in him by sleeping with someone shortly after we broke up. Mind you, we had broken up with the notion we might get back together in the future, once we learned to better ourselves to better our relationship. We had also been together for a seven-year stretch. He insisted we stay apart but kept me close as an emotional crutch. Maybe I'm crazy for getting so upset, but I was. I was devastated. This was the guy I fell in love with in high school and stayed with through my mid-20s. We went through so much together and all of that felt absolutely negated the second I got the text saying "yes, I'm fucking her, is that what you want to hear?" I don't remember ever saying this, but he told me that I said, "As long as she's in your life, I won't be."

Then there was Josh. I met him online and I developed feelings that I hadn't felt for a long time. It was one of those friendships that was easy and fun. I was into him. And, surprising to me, he was into me. We'd flirted with the idea of meeting in person. I naively thought that this might be a real thing. But later on, after receiving some upsetting news, he began to spiral downwards into alcohol and apathy. I tried to be there for him, but was always met with hostility. Finally, after months of a painful balancing act of offering support and giving him space, I asked if he wanted me to leave him alone. The response I got was, "Bye." I haven't spoken to him since. I don't know where or how he is, but he often crosses my mind and I worry. I cared so much for him and I worry that he's no longer here, and that I may have been able to prevent that if I had just handled things differently.

The last person I tried to be as real as possible with was Brooke. Again, another person I met online. I'm not afraid to say that I honestly fell in love with her. She was my best friend and we shared everything with each other. I felt comfortable enough with her to detail some of the worst parts of myself. My struggles with bipolar disorder and depression, my suicidal thoughts, my horrific bouts of self-harm. She listened with sympathy, and I had that same recurring thought that I now despise. "This might be a real thing." When I confessed my feelings for her, I was met with silence. Months later (I'm not even kidding. It was fucking months later), she acknowledged these feelings, and made sure to drill into me that she valued our friendship. But she did so in a way that made me hopeful that it might become something more. Like she was perpetually on that cusp of something more.

But later on, she made sure to tell me all about her new best friend. And how they just clicked and everything was perfect and she was so much fun and they had so much fun together. I'm not ashamed to admit that this ignited some jealous feelings in me. What did this new girl have that I didn't? Why was she dropping me in favor of someone else? Several times, she often called me by this new girl's name. And when I would get upset, she made me feel guilty. Like I was overreacting. And for a long time, I believed I was.

It wasn't until I showed some of our conversations to my two best friends, just to get their advice on what the fuck I was supposed to say to her, that they simply said, "Yeah, she's literally emotionally abusing you." I was completely blind to it. Here I was, totally in love with this girl, willing to put up with everything she said and did to me, simply because there was always this glimmer of hope that we might get together and we might be happy.

It took those two friends (Quinn and Charlie, I credit y'all for getting me out of this toxic relationship) to make me realize all the little things she did to keep me on her hook. Acknowledging my feelings but refusing to give a definitive answer about her own. Making me feel guilty about getting upset about her treatment of me. Getting mad at me for having sex with men (even though she never mentioned this when I told her about said men) and saying she was in agony hearing me talk about them. Ignoring me for days or even weeks when I called her out on the things she did that hurt me, then coming back to our conversations like nothing ever happened. Buying me gifts to "make amends" and repair the damages she caused.

Finally, I cut ties. I couldn't deal with her anymore. A year and a half later, having no contact with her, I found out that she began spreading rumors that I would threaten to hurt and/or kill myself if I felt I wasn't getting enough attention from her. Anyone who knows me knows I would never do that. And here she was, using such an intimate and secret piece of myself to paint me as this kind of person. I had let her in to some of the most painful and vulnerable parts of myself and she used it against me. I refuse to ever forgive her for that.

Remember that thing I told Duncan? About me not being in his life as long as that other girl was? Well. Three years after we had been broken up, that other girl was no longer in his life. He called me up out of the blue, and said he was sorry for everything he had done. I was still his best friend, I always had been and I always would be. So he was back in my life. And we were friends. Until we had crossed that threshold into more than friends. Whenever we would visit each other, we would end up sleeping together. It was safe, comfortable, familiar. But there was always that gnawing in the back of my brain that told me what we were doing was wrong. We weren't together, but we were acting like we were. I'd never felt so conflicted in my life, and haven't since.

Finally, I had to have the difficult discussion about our boundaries. I'll never deny that he is probably the person that knows me better than anyone. He is my best friend. But the romantic feelings? They were gone. When I told him, he said he felt relieved. And I was relieved to be able to keep him in my life while simultaneously moving on.

And so now I'm dating. After a few mediocre dates, I found a guy that I'm afraid to admit I actually really like. But those self-defense mechanisms I established in my early teen years stayed strong. Why would anyone actually be interested in me? I better put myself down before he notices these flaws himself.

And worse, those scars from my past relationships seemed to bleed all over again. Who else is he talking to? (Thanks, Duncan.) Is everything going to change overnight? (Thanks, Josh.) What deep, intimate personal detail is he going to take advantage of? (Thanks, Brooke.)

I don't want to be that person. Jealous and anxious and guarded. What's worse, I don't want to get hurt again, which means I feel I can't actually open myself up to the good things that could come from this relationship. He's so thoughtful and sweet and considerate, and yet here I am, wondering what's really going on in his head. Like I can't take anything at face value. There has to be more.

I'd like to break out of this cycle. Where my lack of self worth feeds into these distrustful and suspicious feelings that cause me to put up walls to the point that people feel the need to give up on me because I won't let them get close which directly reinforces my low self worth. I'm terrified to let him in because I'd been so badly burned in the past.

I'm not sure how to end this (extremely long) post other than to say that I'm cautiously optimistic that maybe I can let him in. That I can let him get past the barriers I built around my heart because of those that hurt me in the past. I feel like it's going to take a lot of work on my part, but I'm afraid to admit that it might actually be worth all the effort. As if I didn't learn anything from the past, or maybe I want to believe that this time will be different, but I think this could be a real thing.

[lcomchoukstore]

Stop Losing Sleep: 7 Steps for Stress-free Decision-making

Decision-making is often tough especially when the simplest choice isn’t glaringly obvious. We’re faced with this process every minute of the day.

When do I wake up? What’s for lunch? Do I would like to travel out on a date with this person? What do I would like to try to to with my life? am I able to stay during this marriage?

Life itself may be a series of selections.

If you’re stressed a few pressing decisions, follow these steps to assist you discover clarity and peace. Do the work and exhaust all options. This way, at the top of the day, you'll know you probably did the proper thing for you.

The process is fluid. Know that you simply might feel compelled to travel back and forth between steps.

Give yourself permission to travel at your own pace. If you’re putting your brain to figure and factoring in your heart and soul, the decision-making process doesn’t need to be agonizing.

Take the time to think things through. Explore each step.

Step #1 Take a deep breath

When we’re stressed, we frequently miss details. Begin to consider absolutely every option you've got. Don’t censor yourself. Get all the thoughts outside of you and onto paper. No typing. The act of writing connects together with your brain on a deeper level.

Write all of them down, even those that appear really outrageous and far-fetched. What does one need? What does one desire?

Be open-minded here and encourage yourself to think outside of the box. you'll be writing furiously. Consider rewriting your list so you'll see every word and understand each option clearly.

If you’re stumped, start writing anything and everything that involves mind. albeit meaning writing “I don’t know” over and over until new thoughts come to the fore.

Ask a good keeled, rational friend you'll trust for his or her perspective. State your boundaries from the get-go and be clear that you’re simply posing for help formulating your options.

When we’re so on the brink of something, it is often easy to fall under the trap of viewing things with bias or narrow thinking. Self-limiting beliefs can get within the way.

You might even enjoy seeking out that very honest and blunt friend who tells it, love, it is. Be prepared to face some hard truths.

Step #2 what's your gut telling you

When intuition kicks in, a choice jumps out at you. If that’s not the case, concentrate on the whispers of uncertainty. Bringing those questions call at the open shines a spotlight on factors we'd overlook.

What are you afraid of? Fear can desire intuition because both are designed to guard us. Fears block you from being the simplest version of yourself. Intuition prioritizes your highest self.

Say a choice slaps you within the face, shouting “WAKE UP! this is often what you've got to do!” Pause and recognize the urgency of this message, then put it off to the side. Continue with the remainder of those steps. If that's the selection, everything following will confirm it 100%.

Step #3 How does one feel once you consider your choices

Slowly go down your list and sign up together with your whole body as you weigh each option in your hand. Some choices will elicit very distinct and obvious emotions.

Think together with your whole body, not just together with your head.

What does your heart say? How does your sense of safety and security feel about this?

Take note of which options feel “good” to you. Mark those that make your skin crawl. This information is gold. We’re humans, not robots. think about your feelings albeit you’re not won't to it.

Step #4 Visualize yourself altogether possible worst-case scenarios

Be so intensely truthful with yourself. Face your fears. what's the worst thing that would happen with each of those choices? What could the aftermath look like?

Step #5 Consider the flip side of this

Dream big and picture the foremost optimal outcomes. Allow yourself to think grand and lofty. you're deserving of a tremendous life. you'll have one if you think that you simply deserve it. now's not the time to carry back or self-sabotage.

This could be an opportunity to open up yourself to an entire new world of possibilities.

Step #6 Use all of your writing to form the last word pros & cons list

Do not filter yourself. this is often where you go all out. If something seems like it’s a “maybe,” it’s a NO.

What options align together with your values? What choices are in agreement with who you're at your core? Where does one desire you’re being a martyr, rather than advocating for yourself?

Are you hyper-focused on what others will consider you? Remember that you’re choosing what’s best for you and your life.

You’re on the design out for HECK YES vibes.

Revisit the selection picked by your intuition. Are you finding a balance between your analytical mind and your emotions? this is often where your best options become obvious.

Step #7 You’ve done the work

Congratulations! It’s time to make a decision confidently. Clarity has shown up success and peace of mind is yours if you're hospitable it.

Remember that there are not any wrong choices. Making a choice is just choosing a direction in life.

Was that an enormous sigh of relief? You’re now one decision closer to living the life you’ve always wanted.

[worthyofluv]

What Being Violated Taught Me

It happened while attending massage school. Here I was trying to establish a life that actually felt fulfilling by learning a new skill (one that I actually found passion in) that would allow me to pursue a career in the vast world of wellness and to also be able to give back in a way that came natural to me. Because after all, I am a giver, and it brings me pleasure to be able to spread the love and kindness that naturally exists within me.

Our time in class was spent lecturing for one portion and practicing massage techniques for the second part. During the technique aspect of class, it was protocol to partner up with a classmate to exchange and receive massages. For most, being on the receiving end of a massage four days a week sounds like total bliss. This particular day however, was anything but blissful.

We had an odd number of students that day, so I ended up in a group of three, partnering with two out of the three males out of a class of about eighteen. Coincidence? I’ll never know the answer to that.

I disrobed and got face down on the massage table to allow my classmates to practice their techniques on me. It was dark, and the instructor roamed the room as she normally did. I was vulnerable and would be forever impacted by what was about to happen.

***If you are someone who has been affected by sexual assault of any capacity, I invite you to take a couple deep breaths before reading on***

As I try to regurgitate the memories out of my psyche and onto paper, I realize that the details have become blurred over time. What I do remember is him standing at the head of the table and subtly moving his hands closer and closer to my breasts upon the return of an effleurage stroke. And then it happened, he gripped my breasts as if he had been given VIP access to my body. In my mind, I knew what was happening before it happened, but I was in disbelief, considering the fact that here we were in a class room full of students, not to mention that there was a whole other student working on me at the same time who hadn’t noticed a thing. I froze. I said nothing. I did nothing. I was in shock.

“If there's one thing that I learned

While in those county lines

It's that everything takes time

You have gotta lose your pride

You have gotta lose your mind

Just to find your peace of mind

You have got to trust the signs

Everything will turn out fine”

-Jhené Aiko

 

After that day, allot of things spiraled downward for me. But I like to believe that my world came crashing down so that I could rebuild myself back up, but with a more sturdy foundation than what I had before.

Before I proceed with my story, I want to say that no matter how minor or substantial you perceive a situation that involves sexual misconduct to be, sexual assault is sexual assault and it has a lasting impact that no matter how much healing work an individual does on themselves, that trauma is always lurking below the surface awaiting a trigger to shine a light on its darkness. If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, please don’t diminish your/their experience. It happened, it was traumatic, but it was not your fault, and it does not define you. I will forever be grateful for my friend who held space for me as I tried to minimize my own experience. I love you CJ.

The Aftermath

After that day, I kept wondering why I didn’t stop it. Sure I was in shock, but that event prompted me to asses every intimate experience I’ve had where I wasn’t fully engaged, where I didn’t really want it, where I said “no” but was finessed into having sex when he said “I just want to play with it” but miraculously ended up in me. I realized that I didn’t have any boundaries. No body taught me that it was perfectly ok to say no when I didn’t want it. No body taught me that my body is my temple and that it should only be shared with someone who honors and respects me. No body taught me that sex is an energetic exchange, resulting in a beautiful (or not so beautiful) meshing of two souls, thus becoming one. So I set out to learn these things on my own.

Side note: Brotha’s, I love yall, but “no” means “no.” It does not mean you can seduce her by JUST putting the tip in. It does not mean that she’s playing hard to get. And it does not mean that you should push the issue because she told you before the act that she wanted it. We can change our minds at any point, just like you can. Consider how you might feel if the scenario was with your daughter, sister, cousin, or mother. But I digress.

Boundaries

Boundaries are a way of teaching people how to treat you.

What I’ve learned on my journey is that when you love yourself, not like in a superficial way, but when you love who you are at the core, you establish boundaries as a means of protection. Think of the process of setting boundaries like a traffic light. When a situation is beneficial, adds value to your life or just feels right, you give it a green light and allow it to be a part of your human experience. This might look like allowing your partner to move in with you, lending a friend money, taking on extra assignments at work, or just being a sounding board to someone who needs to vent. When a situation doesn’t feel quite right, but doesn’t feel quite wrong, you might just need to gather more details or sleep on it before you react. This is where the boundary setting will come into play. This is when questions are asked to gain clarity or expectations are expressed explicitly. This my friends if your yellow light. This might show up as someone pursuing an intimate relationship with you when they just got out of a long term relationship less than 24 hours prior. (You are not a rebound!) It might show up at work when you’ve been given a perfect score on your quarterly review, but no raise. You betta ask for that raise! It might show up with family trying to control your life decisions while disguising it as help. But when someone has disrespected you, has been inconsiderate of your wellbeing, or doesn’t value your contribution to them, this is where boundaries need to be most firm and when it is in your best interest to exercise the power of your voice. This is your red light.

All of the above instances are examples of boundaries being tested at varying degrees. Being rooted in who you are and having an awareness of what you bring to the table will make a difference in how you navigate situations that require you to speak up.

The Delivery

It can feel scary to confront situations that don’t sit right with us, and it may even be in your best interest to express yourself once you have a clear mind and your emotions have subsided. But my focus here is not on the tone in which you express yourself but rather on the act of expressing yourself. If something does not sit right with you, speak on it. If verbalizing your thoughts isn’t your forte, write a letter or an email. It’s so important that we say no when we mean no and yes when we mean yes. It’s so important that we stand up for ourselves and speak our truths, no matter how uncomfortable.

Dear Chad Pocock (Yeah I say names)

I’m not sure what your intent was when you violated me, but in some weird way, that experience empowered me to speak up for myself, regardless of the tone, no matter if my voice trembles or if I become emotional in the process.

Because of you, I AM even more resilent.

-Divine

[hecallsmehischild]

Grieving the Good

Beyond Boundaries by Dr. John Townsend claims there are six components for grieving a lost relationship. Most of the steps are already inherent to how I deal with pain, and I recognized each as I went through them. One, however, took me off guard. It makes sense, but it hadn’t been said to me before.

3. Name what you valued.

When you value someone, you affirm that he or she is important to you. When the connection is over, there are certain aspects of the person and the relationship that you miss the most. There are the values you have to grieve. {List of examples follows}

Sometimes, the value you need to grieve is connected to specific memories as well. It could be a trip you took or a private joke you shared. It might be a time of deep intimacy in which you were very close. Perhaps it was good times with the family.

Why is it important to name the specific things you valued? Because you must say good-bye to the entire person, not simply the negative parts of the person. You cannot walk away from the things you disliked, which may be the things that ended the relationship, without also saying goodbye to the things you loved as well. A half grief is never a healing grief.

It has been seven months since I ended a ten year friendship. Things have been better. I feel more healing every week that goes by. However, I am still stuck some days. I still cycle fruitlessly through each thing that hurt me. In my head, I argue and shout and scream until I’m acknowledged. I deliver biting, sarcastic lines designed to cut. I make it so that this time, I’m not the one in a thousand pieces on the floor.

I can’t seem to move on from this simmering anger on the back burner. I want it to protect me, but I know that’s not what it will do. It will turn into bitterness and a permanent wall that will hinder me from connecting to new people in my life. I also know, though, that if I try to suppress or ignore it, it will come back to bite me in other nasty ways down the line. So I continue to try and find ways of legitimately dealing with it, torn between letting it run its course and trying to find ways to let go.

I have grieved the negative parts and events for months, now, though I have not publicly disclosed all the specific events that led to this dissolution. It is time to grieve the good. I will grieve the good without asking which parts were lies and which were truths, because I’ve already asked myself that untold times and there is no answer to be had. At the time, it was all true, and I will grieve that.

My friend,

You are one of the two people that I know who writes at what I call a college-Lit-class-level. It’s a very specific compliment that carries a great deal of my awe. I know many truly wonderful writers who floor me every time I read their work. But I do believe your work, if published, could be taught in college classes. Not everyone would get it. You probably will not have a broad readership. It took me years of reading your writing to start to understand what you were getting at. It’s a small niche, but people who understand what you’re saying, well. Their conscience will be smitten. Your wordplay and sensory overload descriptions are brilliant. I will miss getting to read your work in advance and offering what I could to the editing process. I will miss cheering every time you got accepted for publication. I will miss collecting any printed piece you got published and begging for your autograph. I grieve that I will never hold your published novel and say, “See? I knew you could do it.” I still know you can.

We made two books together. Did you know how fun that was? Yes, there was some pain in the process, but we made two children’s books. You crafted two lovely stories. You weighed in on design ideas and I illustrated them. I am much more comfortable with my tablet and Art Rage after 9 and 6 months spent on the respective books. I have some concept of character design, simply by doing it over and over. This isn’t something I ever sought to pursue myself, but I learned a little of it through trial and error and repetition. Perhaps you will take the stories and have someone else illustrate them for publication. That is okay. I have my copies. They are the only two I can’t part with, even now. I will miss creating children’s books with you, friend. I grieve the ones we will never make. I grieve these ones will never be seen, but for the few copies that exist among friends and ourselves.

I miss sharing music with you, trying to find songs you would enjoy and occasionally finding for you one you’d searched for without success. I will never hear many of the songs you would have sent me, a lifetime of accumulated musical taste we could have traded.

I miss your passionate conversation about topics that interested you. You were never annoying, in spite of your concerns about being so. I could have listened to talk about your passions for hours. I miss how, when we got together, we could (and did) literally talk for hours, as if jamming together all the time we hadn’t spent together. I miss our long-distance communication. The wall-o-text emails. The few months we did Marco Polo, when we thought it would revolutionize our communication to be able to pick up on tone and facial expression. I miss getting to show you the cool little mundane things about my day. I grieve the loss of our communication.

You and I shared our deep sorrows and victories. We shared vulnerability and acceptance. We both mourned friendships that didn’t last or people who used us and wondered why people were so quick to cast loyal friends aside. I thought I could talk to you about anything and everything that hurt. I kept that belief very shielded from the things I knew I absolutely could not bring to you. Fortified heavily with denial was the belief that you were a safe person, and during the time I believed it, it was a good thing for me. I grieve the loss of that. I grieve the loss of trusting that you were really going to tell me the truth once you confessed to your lies, and that there were and would be no more lies between us.

I saw a great beauty in you, and I wanted so desperately to see that beauty bloom and grow, and to have been a small part of that because I felt you were so much wiser, smarter, more talented than me. I grieve that I will never see what becomes of you in this life up close. I hope, desperately, that you do heal and grow.

Once, when I really needed it, you stood up for me. Though details have come into question, now, in that moment I fully believed I needed it, and you were there for me. In the very early years of our friendship, you provided a friendly and safe-feeling place to talk with you. We talked about anything and everything. I grieve that.

I grieve the gifts I could not keep, chosen with care for every birthday and every Christmas. I grieve the joy I took in picking out gifts for you as well.

You loaned me your knowledge. Knowledge about health and food, theology and psychology. Book recommendations that were dead on what I needed to know and what my brain was able to process correctly. Articles you sent that made you think of me. You have had your head more in the real world than I ever cared to, and when I was stymied about how to even research, you shared your store of collected knowledge with me.

You had such insight. I felt that you “saw” me, and you phrased what you saw in me all so beautifully. I thought I was so fortunate to be friends with someone like you, who would point out my strengths in such a healing way. Do you even comprehend what a balm your words can be, when you want?

I remember playing the What-Does-M-See game. Because you said you could see the spiritual realm. Now I don’t know what to believe, but at the time, I was always in awe when you saw or described something. Especially if it was about me, and especially if it was accurate to something in my life.

I miss praying with you in the early days, when we first got to be prayer partners in the huge house.

I’d never had a delicious vegan meal before. You astounded me by cooking incredible savory 100% vegan dishes. And I got to cook one dish for you that you fell in love with. And even when we lived apart, it was fun to cook with you over Skype, creating the same dish across several states’ distance.

I’d only recently begun reading aloud books for you. Books I thought spoke to your situation, or books that I hoped held some answers for you. I grieve that I will not be able to share with you like you shared with me.

Slumbertale was a short story born out of our friendship. I wanted to sustain you from week to week. Give you something to look forward to. I miss coming up with a new few paragraphs of the story each week and waiting for your reaction to the next twist in the tale. I miss picking out a weekly treat to mail you. I miss making gestures of Philia (deep friendship)--nearly Storge (familial)--love and having them received. I grieve the loss of the times I was able to shine a little light into the darkness for you.

You actually got me to like parenthesis. With a super creative poem. How even? I was so anti-parenthesis in fiction and storytelling, but you did the thing. I liked it so much I had to literally paint the poem.

Some of my most beautiful artwork and poetry were inspired by something you said or wrote, or a part of who you were. You influenced my poetry style. You twined into my craft sphere. We even started a mini-partnership about my trees, remember? I wanted to start writing micro-fiction, but was having a hard time titling the trees. Your titles were spot on and creative and always inspired a fabulous story. I offered $2 per title if the tree sold because I wanted to. Now I title them myself, and have only just returned to the micro-fiction, because the grief was so sharp.

I believed you were someone worth flying out for on as short notice as I could afford during the absolute worst times. I did this three times. I grieve being able to hold the belief that you deserved this, and much more, from me. I grieve the image of you that I had and refused to release for so long.

I grieve good times in Seattle, the city I never want to visit again because the painful associations now outweigh the good associations. You were the last remaining reason I ever wanted to return there.

I remember one time, during a visit to you, I spiked myself into a panic attack. I had ordered a mocha from one of Seattle’s hipster one-off coffee shops. I could tell from the first sip that the balance skewed way more toward coffee than chocolate, and that it might be too strong for me, but I drank it anyway. And shortly after, my heart was hammering and my breathing was shallow and every dread in my heart came screaming up to the surface of my skin. And I asked you for a hug, and in the middle of the coffee shop, with no embarrassment, you held me. Spoke gently into my ear. Helped me regulate my breathing. Helped me back down to a tolerable level of anxiety (it would be a few hours before the caffeine totally left my system).

You wrote me a journal in response to the one I wrote to you. Then you spent months helping me decode your handwriting so I understood all of what you had to say.

You wrote the single piece of derivative fiction (or fan fiction) that exists for my still unfinished novel. You accompanied it with components of a visual piece of art for me to assemble, one that directly related to the story you’d written, in spite of you “not being a visual person.” It had so much meaning to me.

You gave me a deeply meaningful nickname, and called me that almost to the exclusion of my name.

I miss your laughter. I miss your sense of humor. I miss your warmth.

I grieve the good in you, and I grieve the good I received from you. I grieve the good we made together, and the good we shared with each other. As hurt and furious as I am, I still miss you. But I will not return this time. I cannot express to you how much I hope you heal, truly heal, and learn to relate to people. I wish you well. I wish you healing. I wish you true joy. I wish you a life where you do not have to leave claw-marks behind.

Goodbye.