demureness

Matt likes to tell people that we traveled to the West Highlands to get our westie…as if the West Highlands were a suburb of London (where we traveled to get her). I remember the day very clearly. We were picking between two little adorable balls of white fluff. A little girl, sitting so quiet and demure at the back of the pen area, and a little boy, barking his head off at us. We looked at each other and thought “We want the quiet, shy one.”

Boy, did she ever sell us a bill of goods.

Shortly after taking her home, I had to fly home to the states to take care of mom after a surgery. When I returned home, I found that this cotton ball with legs had completely broken in and trained my husband, not the other way around. Marching around, completely convinced of the rightness of her Alpha status (at all of 12 weeks of age), that was the birth of our bossy little girl’s personality.

She was the sweetest, if a bit pushy, pup… and then you’d grab her leash and she’d vibrate herself into another dimension. I think that she was such a utter control freak that the world outside the walls of our house were too chaotic… too much for her to process and control. Too many variables. The house was safe. She wanted us always to stay in the house.

When we kenneled Ciara and Chiyo at a local “doggy day care”, I will never forget watching Ciara back into a corner of fence area and Chiyo patrolling in front of her. Barking at any dog that came too close. She was our fierce little bear, our protector. Always watching over all of us.

She had her issues. Allergies was the first of them. We learned quickly that a restricted diet was required or she would (literally) scratch her face off because of them. And then came diabetes that we could never seem to get under control. So many needles and blood samples and trying to find a way to balance her out. And then finally the word cancer was said to us. It was just too much. Too much stuff happening to her and her body not able to process it all. Her sight was fading. Her weight was going down despite my desperate attempts to feed her more food. She started to act confused in our home, like she wasn’t sure where she was.

We said goodbye to our bossy little girl this afternoon after a day of steak, and treats, and ice cream, and raw hides. Pretty much anything she ever expressed an interest in, but couldn’t have because of her allergies and diabetes, we gave her. She didn’t go quietly, even if it was painless. She remained a control freak to the end, trying to fight off the drugs while we let her know how much we loved her, would miss her, and that she was finally going to be free of all those needles and blood draws and medicines.

And finally, the light faded from those eyes of hers and she was gone.

Ciara and Chiyo were, and will always be, the biggest symbol of just how much love there is in the Household Darke. It has torn my heart out of my chest to let them go, but there are no good answers here. We lost Ciara to old age, Chiyo to disease.

We tried to give them the best life we could. I hope it was enough. I really hope Chiyo enjoyed today and knew how much we loved our bossy little bear of a pup.

Sleep well, little one.

i’m so tired of the su discourse, i saw a post that immediately made me search for the “never show me this post again” button but couldn’t find it and also combed all the xkit extensions for one which does it and came up short

jester said it already but… i’m so disappointed with the show lately…? u_u maybe it’s going somewhere with all these side character themed episodes, but since the peridot arc ended each new episode has more or less just disappointed me. why couldn’t peridot have been left without some sort of supernatural power to show she has worth even without one? the theme of that episode could have been about her using her technical expertise to execute great feats.  i dont know, man. maybe its a METAPHOR about her mind being her strongest part but it’d be lost on any actual children watching and resounds less soundly than her actually using her expertise.

and i still just DON’T CARE ABOUT LAPIS and hate where they’re going with jasper. oh sure, they may be roundabout redeeming her, but large scary butch abuser and femme demure victim makes eating a bucket of sawdust appealing.

and i’m complaining about this at 8 am because i’ve been up since 6 due to anxiety.

3

Old ladybug artwork from a few months ago ; v ; This is my take on a Japanese Ladybug from the Taisho Era(around the 1920′s I think)

As a civilian,Himari is shy and demure but strong willed and admires a certain silent boy she knew when they were kids.

As Ladybug,She becomes more outgoing and tomboyish and bickers with Chat Noir(who I still haven’t made a proper character sheet yet) but despite that,she gets along with him and is very determined to protect others from danger.

I’ll post Taisho Era Chat Noir soon xD.

cuddleclutch  asked:

Hello, I am struggling lately with certain feminist qualities being labeled as 'negative'. As a queer, arguably butch, woman with a flat voice, & inability to interact superficially, I don't fit expectations of femininity. However, inside I'm sensitive, sweet, loyal, and passionate. I feel a walking metaphor of a book being judged by its cover. This does feel oppressive, & over time it does impact my perspective. Can you speak a bit to how social expectations of a women's character are damaging?

There is nothing you can really do to change the perceptions and actions of others. You are not the problem, they are. You are wonderful, exactly as you are. There is nothing wrong with your cover or what’s inside you. This world is a hard place for a woman. We’re supposed to be quiet and polite and feminine and demure. When we don’t fit into that mold, we are judged and told that we need to correct our presentation and our personality. That judgment makes us shrink and doubt and diminish ourselves until we start to believe all the terrible things we are told. 


The best thing you, or any of us can do, is try as much as we can, to just be ourselves out in the world. The more we are brave enough to be ourselves, the more those who would judge us will have to get their shit together and get on board or get left behind. 

oops Yinxing heard his terrible secret!!! Xiayu is laughably demure I just. I have to laugh sometimes because I originally was gonna write him as a cool suave dude but that ended on like. page 12. lmao.

anyway next week’s updates go up tonight on my patreon at midnight(ish) central time!

etsyfindoftheday 5 | 7.14.16

theme thursday: unique swim styles

forbidden fruits + polka dot mismatched bikini by ktrcollection

one more etsy shop selling super-unique swimwear, ktrcollection, has two- and one-piece options for ya, like this mismatched print bikini. it features a sexy triangle wrap top and demure high-waisted yet still fun patterned bottom.

Journey To The Kirk.

Next instalment of: For Love. 

A look at Jamie and Claire’s journey to the church for their wedding - I have followed the lines of the book for this, not the TV show, so show watchers might find the sequence a bit odd.
This continues from Jamie’s perspective.
The lines of Dougal’s and Jamie’s speech with * next to them are directly from Outlander for authenticity of the scene.

Thank you for reading :) xx

He could hear Dougal’s bluster from down the stairwell. The man was building himself up to a belly ache about something but Jamie was too preoccupied with other thoughts to care about what it might be. Claire, his bride, was waiting for him at the top of the same stairs and he could hardly contain himself for the butterflies in his stomach.
He pictured her, stood by the window, the sunlight playing in her hair and her hands folded demurely in front of her, a shy smile on her lips as she curtsied to greet him …

“Ah Dhia!”

He gasped and placed his left hand over his heart, willing himself to stillness, praying he wouldn’t make a complete fool of himself and collapse in a heap at the lass’ feet. He had asked Murtagh to wait outside, hoping to speak with Claire and give her a wee gift in private but clearly he would not be able to do so, Dougal was unlikely to leave them alone until the ceremony was complete.
Jamie saw how his uncle looked at Claire and he could not help wondering when they would come to blows over her, for surely as the fox stalks the hen, they would. The thought of striking his uncle did not sit easy with Jamie but Claire was to be his and his alone, he would not suffer another man to look upon her with lust without suffering the consequences.
Shaking himself of such thoughts Jamie took a deep breath and murmured “Je Suis Prest” once more before taking the remaining stairs two at a time and pushing the door to Claire’s room open without further hesitation.

His eyes had been trained toward the window but he found only Angus leaning against the sill, picking at his back teeth with a grubby finger. For a moment Jamie was in utter confusion and almost wondered if he maybe had missed his footing on the stairs and clomped his head; then he shifted his gaze toward the bed and time stood still.
Claire was staring at him through bloodshot eyes, her skin paler than usual and a thin film of sweat on her brow and upper lip. She had dark smudges under her eyes and Jamie knew if he took a deep breath through his nose he would smell the whisky on her. Yet she was also the most breathtakingly beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her hair had been pinned so that it delicately framed her face and the dress Ned had procured suited her more perfectly than Jamie had dared to hope.

“Are ye mad, man,” *
Dougal’s voice cut through Jamie’s stupor,
“What if somesone’s to see ye?”*

Jamie tore his eyes briefly from Claire and answered his uncle, affirming Dougal’s suspicions that Jamie understood his agreement to this wedding all too well.
‘Aye, and may the knowledge choke ye, ye auld bastard’ 
Jamie thought with savage humour before turning his attention back to Claire. She was looking at him with eyes that begged for help and he could see she was suffering something fierce.

He wanted to tell her it would all be over soon, that she only had to stand alone a little while more and then she need never do so again for he would be there with her, always.
His eyes roamed down the gentle swell of her lower lip, over her pointed wee chin and down her bare throat, a small smile catching his lips. He had never seen skin like it, so pale and luminous almost as bright as … Jamie jerked slightly, he had nearly forgotten.

Reaching into his sporran, he produced the pearls he had carried with him for today. The necklace was light and cool in his palm and he fastened it gently around Claire’s neck, allowing his fingers to linger momentarily on her skin as their eyes met in gentle understanding.

“They’re only Scotch pearls, but they look bonnie on ye.”*

Jamie smiled, resisting the urge to kiss her temple.

“Those were ye mother’s pearls!”*

Dougal growled behind him but Jamie didn’t bother to look at the man

“Aye, and now they’re my wife’s.”*

He gave Claire a warm smile and felt a thrill of happiness when she returned it, her eyelids lowering bashfully before flickering open again, meeting his gaze with certainty.

“Shall we go?”

“Aye we shall!”

Dougal snapped, knowing full well Jamie had not meant the question for him. Claire inclined her head slightly and Jamie straightened, holding out his hand to her.

“My lady…”

She placed her hand in his, her fingers soft and light against his massive, calloused palm. Jamie licked his lower lip and felt sure that his heart would burst with joy. Without breaking their touch, he guided her past Dougal and the men and led the way, carefully down the stairs and into the light of day.
*
Claire rode between him and Dougal on the way to the chapel. Dougal feared she might bolt but Jamie knew she wouldn’t. He grinned to himself thinking that with the hangover his poor lass had, it was unlikely that she would willingly do more than a light canter, even if the devil himself were after her.
The fresh air did seem to have revived her slightly over the course of the journey though and the wind had brought a little colour to her cheeks. Jamie was pleased to see that her eyes looked clearer too, more focussed. He didn’t blame her for needing a drink, he had felt the need for a dram quite desperately himself. Jamie grinned, if he didn’t think she would snatch the bottle from his hand and drain it, he would have brought some out from his saddlebag.

He had not expected Claire to be hungover on their wedding day and he knew that he should be annoyed; Murtagh had looked fair disgusted with her, but Jamie couldn’t help but feel almost … proud! He had not known many women but they ones he had known would never have dreamed of getting blind drunk the night before they were to be wed, no matter the circumstances. Even Jenny, who didn’t give much of a fig for what people thought of her, wouldn’t have done it! She was a rare woman indeed, his Sassenach.

Jamie straightened his back and rode as handsomely as he could, facing forward determinedly so that Claire could watch him if she wanted to. He felt a twinge of disappointment after a few minutes realising that she was barely aware of him beside her and racked his brain for something to say.

“Oh my God!”

Claire suddenly jerked on her horse’s reins and stared ahead of her at the chapel they were approaching. Jamie saw Dougal glance in her direction and hastily lifted a hand to stop the older man saying anything.

“What is it Claire?”

His voice was calm and level and Claire turned her eyes toward him, they were huge with terror and disbelief and for a moment Jamie wondered if she would become hysterical. He nudged his mount closer to hers and gently took hold of her reins.

“The chapel … it’s … my husband … We …”

Claire shook her head and Jamie nodded in understanding. It was only natural that the lass think of her first husband on her way to wed the second and Jamie pushed away the jealousy he felt about sharing her thoughts with another with only a little difficulty.

“Many chapels look alike, I’m sorry if this is too similar for ye liking Claire, truly I am. But there isna another and we must wed here. Do ye understand me, Sassenach?”

Jamie could see the pulse fluttering in her throat and wished more than anything to kiss his way along the sweet curve below it.

“Can ye ride on?”

He asked quietly and was pleased to see Claire nod her head and straighten her spine slightly.

“Ye can do it Claire, I ken ye can.”

Jamie whispered, but his voice was snatched away on the wind before the words reached her. He released his grip on the reins and pulled back to allow her space to breathe and move as she felt able, but remained close enough to offer whatever support she might need on the last wee leg of the journey to the kirk.
*

anonymous asked:

You said that the carapaces in the hsetau had five genders, correct? If you don't mind me asking, what are the differences between the five of them? (Not sure if it's Official hsetau canon or not I'm just assuming)

Um…

It’s like… Like how there are stereotypical traits for males and females, but there are five of them. So like. A man would be expected to be stoic, confident, strong, willing to take risks, and playful. A woman would be expected to be demure, nurturing, wise, protective, and sociable. Traditionally.

It’s the same for Carapaces but less either/or and more of a… “If you have this trait you’d fill this role the best” sort of deal, because Carapaces are a bit like clownfish in that their physical sex changes depending on social cues and environmental cues. Their gender expression is divorced from their physical sex because basing your identity on something that constantly changes at regular intervals is kind of silly.

So. There are five genders but two sexes.

If you’re a speaker, you’re talkative, aggressive, bossy, adventurous, and willing to take risks. Most similar to a traditional 50’s head of the household dad in charge of everything. Spades Slick, Wayward Vagabond, and Hysterical Dame are speakers.

If you’re a tower, you’re protective, physically strong, more of a loner, stalwart, and romantic. Similar to a dad from action movies who puts the protection of his family above anything else. Hearts Boxcars, Peregrine Mendicant, and Ace Dick are towers.

If you’re a vizier, you’re organized, intelligent, appearance oriented, hard working, and good with kids. Like the 50’s housewife who cleans everything and dresses the kiddies for school and wears pretty dresses all the time. Diamonds Droog, Aimless Renegade, and Nervous Broad are viziers.

If you’re an auspice you’re playful, sociable, talented, a bit of a dreamer, and not good with change. Like a playful maiden from the 1800’s who has no husband yet and also has no brain. Clubs Deuce, White King, and Problem Sleuth are auspices.

If you’re a spicer, you’re the “androgynous” one. The one who can fill in the gaps, a natural stabilizing element that seems to have a magical ability to do whatever someone else won’t. Ms Paint, White Queen, and Pickle Inspector are spicers.

Not to say that these characters fit their gender roles completely. AR isn’t much for pretty clothes for example. But. Yeah.

*prepares for hate mail*