Maybe some time you could talk about Susan and what it would be like if she didn't desert Narnia
How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn’t deserted Susan?
What if, instead of sending a stag to lead them astray, the Pevensies had been given time to end their first rule– to have finished their reports, their negotiations and treaties, that letter in the bureau Lucy was half-done penning to Mrs. Beaver to thank her for the fruitcake and to ask about her grandchildren.
They had lived there more than a decade then, grown from children to kings and queens, to brave young adults with responsibility heavy on their shoulders. They had lived through storms and wars, peace and joy, lost friends to battle and old age and distance. They had made a home. What if they had been given time to say good-bye?
What if we didn’t tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn’t have again.
There is nothing wrong with Lucy loving Narnia all her life, refusing an adulthood she didn’t want for a braver, brighter one she built herself. But there is also nothing wrong with Susan trying to find something new to fall in love with, something that might love her back.
You can build things in lipsticks and nylons, if you don’t mind getting a few runs in them. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be pretty, especially when pretty is the only power left to you.
Let’s talk about being the last one left. No, really, think about it. You get a call in the middle of the night, in the little flat you can just barely afford, and you are told there has been an accident.
Think about it, that moment– you scramble over everyone you know, everyone you love, and try to figure out where they all are that night. There are things rushing in your gut, your fingertips, your lungs, your ears– there are words in your ears as the tinny, sympathetic voice starts to tell you: it is everyone.
They were on a train. Something went wrong. They probably died instantly. A rushing sound. A bright light. (You try to imagine it, for years. You try not to think about it. You imagine it, for years–a rushing sound, a bright light.)
Your little sister, who you always felt the most responsible for, who you never understood, really– Your big brother, who disapproved of your choices but loved you with a steadiness you could never regret leaning into– Your little brother, a smug and arrogant ass except for the days when he drowned in self doubt– Ed was going to go far and you knew it, were waiting for it, were shoring up your defenses and your eye rolls for the days when he’d think he ruled the world–
Your mother is gone. Your father, with his stuffy cigar smell and big hands and the way he got distracted telling stories– he is gone. Your cousin Eustace, who suddenly lost that stick in his ass one summer. That friend of his, Jill, who you’d never actually quite met. Gone. A rushing sound. A bright light.
Go on. Walk through this with me. You can’t sleep all night long, because you still can’t understand it, still can’t quite breathe in a world where you are the last Pevensie. You finally fade sometime between midnight and dawn and when you wake up you don’t remember for half a second. You think ugh and you think sunshine why and then you remember that you are an orphan, an only child. You remember there probably isn’t anyone else to handle the funeral arrangements.
Get up. Make tea. Forget to eat breakfast and feel nauseous and empty all day. Call the people who need to be called. Your work, to ask for the time off. The mortuary, to ask about closed caskets. Distant relations. Friends. Edmund’s girlfriend and Peter’s boss. You listen to Lucy’s friends weep hysterics into the phone while you stare out the kitchen window and drink your fourth cup of tea. You call Professor Diggory, out at the old house with the wardrobe that started it all, and it rings and rings. You don’t find out for three days that he died in the train crash too. When you do, you stare at the newspaper article. You think of course.
You are twenty one years old. You have ruled a kingdom, fought and won and prevented wars, survived exile and school and your first day as a working woman. Nothing has ever felt worse than this. You have a necklace in your dresser you meant to give your mother, because she loves rubies and this glass is painted a nice ruby red and it is all you can afford on your tiny wages.
Excuse me, a correction: she loved rubies. She is dead. You never wear the necklace. You cry yourself to sleep for weeks. The first night you don’t cry, the first morning you wake up rested, you feel guilty. You wonder if that will live in the pit of your stomach all your life and you don’t know. The years reach out in front of you, miles and eons of loss. You are on the very shore of this grief and you do not know how you will survive feeling like this for the rest of your life. But you will survive it.
Get up. Make tea. Make yourself eat breakfast. Make plans with a school friend to do lunch. Go to work and try to bury yourself in the busyness of it. Remember that you’d promised to lend Peter a hand with some task or other, but you don’t even remember what it was– Collapse. Hide in the bathroom until you’re breathing again. Redo your makeup and leave work the moment your shift is over. Drop your nylons and your sweater and your heels in the apartment hallway. Fall into bed and pull the covers over your head.
Get up. Make tea. Eat. Don’t think about them for weeks. Don’t feel guilty when you remember. Feel proud. Spend an indulgent weekend in your pajamas, reading Lucy’s favorite novel and making Ed’s favorite cookies and remembering the way your mother smelled and how it always made you feel safe. Love them and miss them and mourn them. Keep breathing. Cry, but wash your face after in cool water. Wake in the morning to birdsong and spend three hours making breakfast just the way you like it.
Imagine the next birthday, the next Christmas, the next time you hit one of those days that herald the passage of time, that tell you how much you’ve grown and how much they haven’t.
Lucy, Peter, and Edmund will be at the same height for the rest of your life. Lucy will always be seventeen for the second time. You see, you think you know, when you lose them, what the dagger in you feels like. But it grows with you, that ache. You grow with it, too, learn how to live with that at your side but it grows, that ache, finds new ways to twist–
At the first friend’s wedding you go to, you cry because it’s lovely, those two smiling and promising and holding hands– but you also cry because you wonder what Lucy would have looked like in white, joyous and smiling and promising the rest of her life to a boy who deserved her.
Go on. You tell me if Susan deserted a world or if a whole life deserted her. You tell me who was left behind.
So yes, let’s talk about it– what if Narnia hadn’t deserted Susan? What if lipstick and nylons were things worn and not markers of worth?
What if we had a story that told little girls they could grow up to be anything they wanted– all of Lucy’s glory and light, Susan’s pretty face and parties, the way Jill could move so quiet and quick through the trees?
Because you know, some of those little girls? They were the little mothers, too old for their age, who worried and wondered, who couldn’t believe like Lucy or charge like Jill. Susan was reasonable, was hesitant and beautiful and gentle, was pretty and silly and growing up, and for it she was lost. She was left. And when Susan was left, so were they.
The little girls who worried louder than they loved, who were nervous about climbing trees and who would never run after the mirage of a lion, who looked at the pretty women in the grocery store and wondered if they would grow up pretty too– some of them looked at their little clever doubting hands, after they read Peter and Eustace and Jill scoffing at Susan’s vanities, and they wondered what they were worth.
Imagine a Narnia that believed in all of them. Imagine a Narnia that believed in adult women, lipsticked or not. Imagine Susan teaching Jill how to string a bow, arms straining. Imagine her brushing blush on Lucy’s cheeks, the first time Lu went out walking with a boy she was considering falling in love with. Imagine that when the last door to Narnia was shut, there was not a sister left behind.
The dandelions are in reference to Misha’s story about his kids that got him so choked up. On a day when he was tired and just felt like getting home, the kids spotted a field of dandelions and asked to stop. So he gave them each one and told them to make a wish. He wished for world peace. West wished for a cheetah. But Maison just said, “I wish for this,” because there is nothing like being happy with life and embracing the little moments.
When we approached Misha with our giant dandelions and said, “we wish for this,” his eyes immediately got so big and full of emotion and he put his hand over his chest and gave us those damn puppy dog eyes. He grabbed our hands and told me that the idea was amazing and thanked us. Definitely a highlight of this con!
I AM SO LATE ON INKTOBER AND not sure when i will have the time to resume…so have some pyre doodles i did in between….that should…count….maybe
reader self stuff with me and @maulingredpanda and bad dating advice from the Nightwings….idk i’ll post the conclusion to that bertrude advice but wheeeze if i miss enough days or ppl interested i’ll post it up. enjoy!
A = Aftercare Sehun’s the baby, he’s normally the one being taken care of, so I don’t see him being overly good at caring for someone else he cant even cook noodles cmon so aftercare is kind of a joint effort between the two of you.
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His hips are out of this world, I don’t trust those things, they have a mind of their own. Sehun knows his hips are the shit, especially when it comes to being with you, his hips are kind of his pride and joy. I ain’t even going to try and play, he loves your ass. There, I said it. He’s got pretty big hands too…your booty is his go to place to touch and grab at any given time.
C = Cum Because he’s young and he’s not the most experienced and porn is lies I don’t think he quite knows how to deal with cummin when another person is in the mix(i.e. not jerkin it) so he’s kind of messy. Changing the sheets and a shower are almost a necessary thing to do after sex with him.
D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs) It’s not really anything significant, like he tried on your panties a few times or anything, I think a lot of people do this? But who’s going to tell someone they jerk off to their instagram selfies, honestly?
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Him and Kai be takin’ noonas’ phones and giving them back with the history erased….we know what y’all were up to you little shits. He’s pretty young, and even younger when he got into SM, so I don’t think he had a lot of time to fool around, but if his ass is taking a noona’s phone and doin that, boy watches too much porn, he knows what he’s doing.
F = Favorite position He’s almost a sub, in the sense he lets you do what you want. Not so much about control, but he likes laying back, and watching you in your element while riding him, just his hands on your hips guiding you slightly. Sehun’s unspoken thing, not so much a kink though, is he likes seeing you above him, you riding him and the likes.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) Sehun’s a dork, we all know this. But I think subconsciously he puts on a mask of a ‘man’ when he’s in the bedroom, he’s pretty focused and all business and intense eyes when he’s having sex. Unless he’s drunk…then that’s a different story.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they) Sehun’s pretty smooth, not a lot of hair on his tummy, just a lil bit, so I imagine that matches down below. Not a lot, just a lil bit. He keeps his junk pretty organized, he’s not bare, he trims pretty well, though.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) I don’t see Sehun being the most romantic boyfriend/lover in general, I think you’d be more of a dorky couple than romantic so I don’t think he’s really into the whole circus of going all out just to show how much he loves you and all, when he can just say it. He’s an after sex talker, to be honest with you, he coos about how much he loves you once you’re done and just coming down from the high.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation) Again….the noona’s phone…I don’t know any boy that just casually watches porn and doesn’t jerk off. Sehun’s a ‘steal and noona’s phone and lock himself in the bathroom’ kind of masturbater, it’s completely obvious what he’s doing but he thinks he’s being sneaky so we’ll just let it slide.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) I really don’t see him being very kinky, pretty vanilla in that area to be honest with you. He’s got a thing for your butt, so it’s not a stretch of the imagination that he really likes spanking you. He gets to touch the booty, and leave his mark, two birds, one stone, amiright?
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) Sehun’s kind of a lazy boy, but what do you expect from the baby? He likes any place that he can actually relax and stay relaxed when it’s over, he doesn’t have to move. So the bed is the majority of sex with him, but the couch gets sprinkled in here and there.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) He’s a fairly confident guy, but get flustered from compliments. But he really gets going when you overly hype him up, talking about how handsome he is and how much you love him and how much you love him touching you and working your body. Sehun’s a sucker for it, and you’re racing to the bedroom.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He’s not really into bondage, he doesn’t like the idea of being trapped or held down, or you or himself. So handcuffs and ropes and all that good stuff aren’t even on the list.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Sehun is one of the rappers, so his tongue is in perfect working condition. He’s not the most skilled, but he’s an quick learning if you tell him what to do, that’s easily fixed. And he certainly won’t turn down anything that means he doesn’t have to use his hands on himself, seeing you on your knees for him is almost enough to make him cum on the spot.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Sehun’s another boy that I think will be normally slow but firm, his thrusts are purposefully but he’s almost lazy with his fucking. Obviously it’s not always that way, sometimes he ventures into pretty rough fucking, but on the norm, he really just let’s you have the power on top of him while he bucks lazily into you from below.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Sehun’s a fan of pulling you into the bathroom before or after a show or concert, just to relieve some pent up frustrations and nerves. They’re not his favorite, but he does enjoy them, and he always promises to do it properly when you two get home.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) (Look to T for further explanation) Sehun’s kind of a quiet boy, hyper, but quiet. So no one really expects him to be a freaky one, but he likes testing out different things. Sehun’s one of the boys that’ll try almost anything once. Toys, positions, locations, as long as he likes it and doesn’t have a bad experience(or already have a negative opinion with it) he’ll try it if you’re willing as well.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) Sehun’s pretty young, and he’s kind of a hyper mess, so I see him being fairly okay with going for pretty long rounds, and 2-3 rounds on the average with him.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) On a trip to the mall, you two spotted and made jokes about vibrating panties, or just a small vibrator with a separate remote. He’d gotten the latter as a joke, saying he’d make you use it at the next award show he brought you two. Who’d have thought he’d been serious? He likes toys that make you squirm, vibrating ones being the toy his personal favorite.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He’s a slight tease, not unbearably so, but he crosses the line just enough to have you whining for him before he’ll stop and give you what you really want.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) I don’t think he’s very vocal with sex, I feel like Sehun is more of a low grunting kind of guy. When he’s close, he moans a little bit louder, but outside of the room no one’s really going to hear him.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) The biggest secret that you two will take to your grave, is drunkenly stumbling into Suho’s room while the boys were still out and fucking there. Thank the gods you didn’t pass out afterwards, but as soon as you were finished, Sehun tried to reach for the remote to have his post-sex cuddle and movie with you, and realized ‘oh shit, we’re in the wrong room’. Oops?
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) Nana says Sehun is a skinny lil baby that he isn’t packing some sausage links in his pants. ‘He’s got more of a hotdog situation’ bye yall he’s more on the slender side of the spectrum, but he’s a bit longer than average, he’s got about half an inch on the average size.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Sehun is pretty much a hyper child, and a young hormonal boy, so having you, he doesn’t exactly hold back his yearning and lust. His drive is pretty high, he can’t keep his hands to himself if you’re in the equation, he’s clingy in the relationship aspect, and that just gets amplified in your sexual relationship.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Okay…he’s stays up all night doing live videos ?? Does he even sleep? Anyways, I don’t think he falls asleep easily after, or at all really. More like he just wants to lay down and cuddle afterwards, but very rarely does he fall asleep quickly after sex.
this is the most surreal joy i get to experience because after placing them in one team they fit every trope i ever love:
1. small wives that can pretty much wreck you even without their husbands help
2. giant husbands loom and glare deviously behind their small wives at anyone who dares hurt their precious flowers
3. both husbands are super strict and sometimes intimidating
4. the wives are literal sunshines who are one of the very few who could make the husbands swoon and smile the purest smile everyone has ever seen
5. both sakura and nowi are pretty much the perfect cure of marxs and freds stress
6. the husbands are in their Special Outfit and the wives arent
7. sakura frets over marx if hes ever hurt and is great at healing; fred frets over nowi if shes ever hurt and is great at first aid
8. one minute marx and fred look so stern and scary. the next minute they are blushing like teenage highschool boys when sakura holds marxs hand and nowi holds freds.
9. sakura got to learn something new and surprising about marx; she learns that marx was a very shy boy and still has stage fight sometimes too. nowi learns that frederick is super hardworking eventho his hard work is often gone completely unnoticed and yet sadly he doesnt mind.
10. both sakura and nowi had first bad impressions of marx and fred before they talked
11. their impressions of them changed when they learned more about them
12. (technically) both husbands have a horse
13. marx and fred are surely the type of passionate men who pamper and spoil their beloved
Draco smiled as he ran a hand through Harry’s hair, loving the way it felt beneath his fingertips, soft, inviting. Harry moaned in his sleep and Draco made to move his hand away, feeling guilt coarse through him that he had woken Harry up, but before he could, Harry’s hand caught his. Draco looked down, his eyes catching green.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep Love” He said, brushing his lips over Harry’s forehead.
“It’s okay” Harry mumbled sleepily, lifting his head up so Draco’s lips met his.
Draco indulged him for a few seconds before pulling away, flicking Harry on the side of the head lightly. “Sleep you, you’ve got a big day tomorrow” He said softly, still running his hand through the dark hair, loving the silky texture.
“Mmmmmm okay” Harry moaned, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, tucking his head into Draco’s arm. “N night”
I don’t know if this is something anyone would be interested in, but I recently returned from visiting Korea where I entered one of SF9′s fansign events. If you’re curious to know how they interacted with me as a foreign fan, I’ll explain below. I tried to condense as much as possible, but it’s lengthy. Also, if you have any questions, you can ask me (:
A/N: So I still have writer’s block with my Sam series (Shelter from the Storm - you should check it out #shamelessplug), but I’m a sucker for some Dad!Dean and fluff so here we are. If this has been done before, my sincerest apologies. This was cute and fun to write so I don’t care. Stuff in italics are memories.
“Okay, Grace,” Y/N’s sweet voice called out as she returned to the bathroom with a towel. “Tub time is over – time to get out.”
“Okay, Mommy,” the little girl said. “I unplug the plug.” She looked to her mother with a confident smile because she knew that only big girls were able to unplug the drain stopper.
“That’s my big girl!” Dean proclaimed as he rounded the corner and joined his little family in the bathroom. “Now who’s ready for bed?” he clapped and rubbed his hands together.
“Can I have a story, Daddy?” Grace begged as she wrapped herself in her favorite unicorn towel.
“Of course you can have a story. You think I wouldn’t let my best girl have a story?” He feigned shock and turned to Y/N to see her playing along.
Grace giggled at her father’s funny face and cheered for story time. She ran to her room to get changed into her pajamas. Dean wrapped Y/N into his arms and gave her a loving kiss.
“I’ll let you two have story time. I’ll clean the kitchen.” Y/N patted Dean on the chest and walked down the hall. Dean sighed and admired the view for a moment before turning to head to his daughter’s room.
Summary: When you agree to take part in one of your friends’ videos you are excited. And excitment that turns into nervousness when you realize the kind of scenes you have with your crush and best friend Jared Leto.
“Just a minute and we’re done sweetheart.” the make up artist told you with a smile and you gave her a nervous one.
“Oh no, don’t rush. Take your time.” you shook just softly your head and she chuckled.
“If I didn’t know any better and if I didn’t have eyes of my own I would say you’re not really excited about this huh?” she teased you slightly and you gave her an awkward smile.
“I- I- No, it’s not that. I’m just a little… nervous. Not- not about the scenes- it’s just that- it’s something new for me and… yeah.” you breathed out nervously and she nodded her head with a soft smile.
“I know what you mean- up to some part I guess.” she chuckled “The first time I came to work here as a make up artist I was shaking like a leaf. But then I saw that as far as it had to do with the thing I love most then- I would be fine.” she shrugged.
“I guess this can apply only if you love acting and singing though.” she added with an awkward laugh.
“Well, I guess.” you mumbled “Mostly acting, actually but- I am not doing it entire for that.”
“Then what if not your love for acting?” she asked, eyes focused on her work though.
“My love for my best friend.” you breathed out and she smiled.