how about i just like your everything

I can’t help myself but since the first time I saw this picture I can’t but think JI is calling/talking with Ksoo. You know those phonecalls you make to your lover when you’are apart/away from each other, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, laughing and telling each other how was their day, smiling at nowhere like totally fools just for the happiness of hearing one another at the phone and JI looking at the sky/stars while listening to Ksoo speak and can’t stop thinking to himself: “I’m so damn in love with this man.”

I envy the kindness of a Pisces Sun. The way they say “I love you,” to just about everything. The way their friends admire them and the way their friends trust them no matter what.
I envy how when you say you hate one everyone looks astounded. How they naturally grab your attention, your eye, just because they look like they popped out of your own personal dream and made a home in your reality by chance - or by accident.
I envy how no matter how beaten or broken they are, they’re always there to help. How forgiving and happy they are… yet when truly betrayed, they can hold grudges that last longer than any Scorpio Mars I know.
I envy their ability to escape from the madness with profound words. I also am sorrowful when I realize that much of the time this is why they are artistic, why when their pens hit paper or why when their fingers pluck at strings is to rid sorrow from their brain.
I envy their artistic talent, and above all else their musical talent. Everytime I listen to them it feels like I’m being hauled off to the most entrancing concert hall.
I simply envy much about the Pisces Sun. Though, to be fair, much makes me sorrowful as well.
Like how their trust is often taken for granted,
or how every good trait of theirs is often twisted into something nasty by the people who’ve they put their trust in.
Yet, I envy them.

anonymous asked:

i saw the vid of anya talking about hate so do 3a with anya and her bf

Sure :3

First time I ever leave my comfort zone 😳 I’m really happy how this came out.

I also saw the video and it pains me to see people who are just so crule to her. She tries everything but it seems like they just don’t care.

@ania-da-peasant don’t feel down just because of those idiots. You just be you. your real fans don’t care if you dub Pj’s Daycare or not we’re here to support you all the way 😊😊

anonymous asked:

Can I send you a prompt? So I have this crazy idea that suddenly popped in my crazy head. Sherlock had a heart attack and they need an immediate donor. Blah blah. Sherlock asked John who was his donor and his homie answered it was Irene Adler (saying that she don't want the era of Sherlock Holmes to end) she left a note "take care of my heart" but ofc everything was a prank made by Eurus (Jawn and Irene are on it too) she wanted to see how emotional Sherlock would be.

Hi :D I looooove hearing other people’s ideas. And I do seriously mean that. It amazes me, what people can come up with, especially Adlockers. And I like your idea too (totes sounds like something Eurus would do), although I’m not sure how to go about the technicalities of that one :)

But to be honest, I just don’t know how reliable I can be about answering it. Honestly and truly. My muse is, unfortunately, a fickle bitch sometimes and refuses to produce on demand. Look deep enough in my blog and you’ll see me complain of writer’s block every other week. And some weeks, like the past few ones, I get bombarded by soooo many ideas and AUs that it makes it so hard for me to concentrate on anything else (like seriously, I will talk to another Adlocker about a long and complicated – and derivative – multi-fandom Adlock AU with OCs complete with in-depth backstories one day, then 24hours later, I’ll nudge them again to tell them that I’m completely body and soul obsessed with another equally-complicated and equally-derivative multi-fandom Adlock AU) – long story short, it might take me minutes to pop something out (if I get whipped into a writing frenzy), or it might take me weeks to churn something out. I had an anon ask me for a prompt months ago, and I’m still spinning pointlessly on that one (sorry, anon, really sorry!).

Plus, my whiny self is currently having a personal crisis that’s seriously making me doubt my worth as a writer, or if I’m just a talentless, self-important, unoriginal wannabe.

So, if you still want someone as neurotic and unreliable as me to take your prompt, I’d be honored, and I’ll see what I can do (again, I can’t make any promises). And don’t worry, I totally wouldn’t blame you if you don’t :D

Thanks for asking though. I really appreciate it, and I really like your idea :)

I want you to be infinite
and because of that
I’ll write down everything I know
about the way your fingers move
or how you bite your lip.
And just like the moon
who’s beauty can never be shown in a picture,
my writing will never be as complete as you are
and I could write novels about your eyes
without ever really
getting close
to the truth.
—  // loving somebody
j.d.m.
Blind Soldier76
  • Reinhardt forgets that Jack is blind, and is like “Hi Jack, could you read this for me?” and Jack takes it and stares at it for like a good minute and then is like “You know this would be an excellent read if I wasn’t blind”
  • Hana’s like “Hey Jack could you drive us to town real quick” and hes like “Hm no I can only drive you off a road and probably to your certain death I can’t see.”
  • Gabriel is self conscious about how he looks under the mask, and Jack just stares at him and is like “Gabe, to me you’re literally just a blur, but I can tell you - you’re the most beautiful blur in this entire room.”
  • Gabriel up late after shopping trips as he types out braille labels for everything so Jack knows what’s what.
I love you. I think I’ve loved you since the moment we met, I was just too afraid to admit it. Because how can you possibly love someone when all you know is that their laugh sounds like old records on a Sunday and their favourite colour is blue? But damn, do I ever love you. I love the way your voice changes when you talk about your passions. I love that you’re passionate about everything from ankle socks to global warming. I love that life is simple with you. Ever since I met you, there have been no questions. The answer is always there. It’s you.

favourite parts of beauty and the beast

  • THE INTRO AND THE WAY IT ZOOMS INTO THE CASTLE AND THE ORIGINAL INTRO MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND LIKE FUCK ME UP
  • THE FUCKING SCENERY. LIKE SAME WITH CINDERELLA I HAVE DECIDED THAT THE LIVE REMAKES OF ALL THE DISNEY FILMS ARE THE ABSOLUTE BEST AND IT’S BECAUSE OF THE SCENERY
  • THE CGI IN THIS FILM IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE OK
  • “trust me ladies…it’s never going to happen”
  • THE BE OUR GUEST SCENE
  • literally lefou. everything about him made this fucking film
  • “i just realised i’m illiterate and i’ve never had to spell it out loud before”
  • ALSO WAS THAT A BI MAN I SPIED WITH MY LITTLE EYE DURING THE “how is your wife” SCENE
  • “are you busy” “no”
  • THE SHEER AMOUNT OF POC AND WOC MY HEART IS SOARING
  • père robert being a fuckign badass
  • stanley tucci. enough said
  • “i want adventure in the great wide somewhere, i want it more than i can tell” like that whole scene gave me chills the way she’s standing on the top of the hill and you can see down into all the little valleys it’s so magical
  • THE DESIGN OF THE CASTLE LIKE IT WAS SO ASTOUNDING I COULD BARELY BREATHE
  • IAN FUCKING MCKELLEN
  • “please turn back into a clock. please turn back into a clock”
  • EMMA THOMPSON LADIES AND GENTLEMEN
  • when belle says that her favourite shakespeare play is rom and jules and the beast is like “why is that not a surprise”
  • THE LIBRARY SCENE
  • “was that a joke? are you making jokes now?”
  • gaston talking to himself in the mirror
  • “you are the most gorgeous thing i’ve ever seen. nobody deserves you” same buddy same
  • “i’m not done with you yet” “me neither”
  • CHIP. IS. THE. SWEETEST
  • belle throwing a snowball at the beast and he’s just like “right” and fuckign decks her
  • THE WHOLE MRS. POTTS AND LEFOU SCENE
  • “we’re in a bad place right now” “you’re too good for him anyway”
  • THE TALE AS OLD AS TIME SCENE WHEN THE LIGHTS COME DOWN FROM THE CIELING FUC K ME UP
  • “happy place, gaston, happy place”
  • “the widows!” “oh, the widows”
  • “are there any other tasteless demands you wish to make upon my artistry?” “no, that’s it”
  • garderobe changing the three thugs and one of them looking fucking fabulous
  • LEFOU AND THE THUG DANCING AT THE BALL
  • “have you ever considered growing a beard?”
  • HIS FUCKING GROWL AT THE END

Unpopular opinion: 2016 was actually an incredible year to me, so many cool things happened!! I’ve become independent, I learned and experienced tons of things, I’ve overcome my problems and finally I achieved what I’ve wanted for so long: I am truly happy with who I am as a person! I learned how to be happy and how to stay happy, I learned what’s important and to what extent. I realised that everything is a choice and there are literally no limits!! I finally see that every minute spent on whining and crying under a blanket is a wasted minute!! There’s literally no point in being stuck in one place, life moves forward and so should I!! Every failure is a test of persistence and determination, the key is to never stop looking for solutions!!

tl;dr Bring it on 2017, I’m ready

Stalker/Possessive sentences

For the first installment to this meme, check out Stalker Sentence Starters!

“Wear that outfit I like tonight. You know the one.”
“I never want to see you talking to them again.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I’ve tried to move on, to think about someone else, but you’re always on my mind.”
“I’m obsessed with you.”
“You looked so precious in your sleep last night.”
“Don’t look at me like that; like you’re afraid of me.”
“Where were you? You’re thirty minutes late!”
“Tell me where you’re going and how long you’ll be gone.”
“You’re not leaving the house dressed like that.”
“It doesn’t matter where you go. I’ll follow you.”
“I can be everything you need if you’ll just give me a chance.”
“They’re no good for you.”
“I don’t like them. Stay away from them.”
“You’ll realize soon enough that no one appreciates you like I do.”
“I just want you to love me like I love you.”
“Look me in the eyes when I talk to you.”
“I see the way you look at them.”
“I want you to say you love me. Say it and mean it.”
“If you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“I’m done hiding in the shadows.”
“We’re going to be together forever. Just you and me.”
“Leave them. Leave them and be with me instead.”
“Every time I see you talking to them, it makes my blood boil.”
“Are you just trying to make me angry?!”
“If you’re on your best behavior, I’ll treat you well.”
“Did you find the gifts I’ve been leaving you?”
“I was in your room last night. You looked so peaceful.”
“I’m sorry I stole your shirt. It still smells like you.”
“No one will ever love you as much as I love you.”
“If I can’t have you, no one can have you.”
“No! Shh, shh, don’t yell!”
“I don’t care what your friends have planned, you’re not leaving the house tonight.”

i don’t know how to erase hurt. sometimes i still cry about him when i didn’t cry at his funeral. nobody really cares how you cope with things as long as you cope quickly, a silent rehashing of your life in the sudden void. stuff goes missing in the wake of it. like something has to fill up all that sucking emptiness. the pit of no end. you throw in your emotions or food or showers or everything. and people ask you why you don’t just get over it. there’s always somebody better at getting over it, and sometimes it’s you. sometimes you’re at work the next day even though no one expected that from you; only to miss a solid week seven months in the future. how do you explain that. sorry i just kind of put it in a box and the box finally leaked. sorry it just got out on me. i know it’s silly. i know it’s silly.

reallyfatcutepug  asked:

Hello Cassandra :) My friend recommended me your books just about a month ago and believe me or not I've finished all of them already. I couldn't help myself, but keep reading. I've never believed I would love any fiction books as much as HP, but I do now. And I don't know what to do next 2 months... Now I'd like to ask about Julian, since he is my personal hero and I have no idea how can he handle everything in his life... Will we see some positive or happy moments for him in LoS too?

It’s interesting when I get questions like this, because there are very few characters I write whose lives are unendingly awful. While Julian is under a lot of stress and is experiencing heartbreak, he’s also a person with a lot of resilience. You don’t get to be where he’s at without being strong. Julian’s siblings aren’t just a heavy responsibility, they’re also a source of great joy for him. Julian’s relationship with Emma is in flux, but it’s also still important to him. Even now, there are moments of happiness shared between them. 

And don’t forget, Julian is a schemer. He actually really enjoys his scheming. Maybe a little too much. ; )

Salt Mines

Context: It’s the meme-hating DM’s squad again, back this time with a new lineup of fighter, monk, warlock and ranger. Below are…a few of the highlights.

-

Warlock: So since we’re probably going to die on this boat anyway, what’s your story? How about you, [monk]?

Monk: I got roaring drunk and fapped to the statue of our temple’s god in the middle of prayer, so they kicked me out.

-

Fighter: I mean if we just go in a straight line we can probably make it to the next town.

Ranger: Have you never been to a forest before? You can’t just go STRAIGHT through a forest! Everything is knotted and growing randomly and frustrating…like my sexuality.

Warlock: Do you want me to try untangling the knots for you? ;)

Monk: While they do that I’m gonna go pee.

-

(talking to a native NPC)

Native: Well, sorry about nearly taking your head off then. But recently there’s been three ships’ worth of people like you coming here and tramping all over the place. Just a day ago one of them planted a flag on a hill and now his men would shoot anyone who came near, saying something like “This territory is ours!”

Fighter: Ah, imperialism. Never failing to jizz on a perfectly functional society.

Warlock: Don’t you give them gifts now, or they will turn around claiming they thought it was all free and refuse to pay you back even though they understand that gifts-giving is deals-making across almost all intellectual species.

-

Monk: Didn’t you and I come from the same city, [Fighter]?

Fighter: If we did, I’m denying to everyone that we used to know each other.

-

Warlock: What are friends, [Ranger]?

Ranger: Murder accomplices.

Warlock: Bingo!

-

Ranger: How did someone as straight laced as you get dragged off on a criminals-delivery ship like us?

Fighter: You think the ship would sail itself? I was a crewman.

Ranger: [sidles closer] Some ships do sail themselves.

Fighter: That ship already sank the moment you ruffians stepped foot on it. It sank right to the bottom with the weight of your sins.

  • what he says: i'm fine
  • what he means: you know not everything has to be a joke. sometimes you can just be honest about your feelings, and that's how i see myself, you know? i may not be the most threatening silhouette, but i like to think of myself as somebody who can stand up for-- you know it doesn't always have to be "goof goof dildo machines" over here, okay? i'm traveling around with the Boner Squad and i never get to just say... what i'm feeling, i have emotions! it's not all abra-ca-fuckyou and what have you!! i have a beating heart!!! i'm multi-dimensional! i'm a fully-realized creation... fUCK!!!!!

Man sometimes I think we forget just how psychologically damaging Afghanistan was for Tony. Like my professor was talking today about old anesthesia techniques and how there were a bunch of cases in the 30s, 40s, and 50s of surgeries where people were awake and could feel everything during the surgery. “That’s horrifically traumatizing,” he said, “to feel someone cutting into your body, moving internal organs around, and not being able to do anything about it. People came out of surgery with sometimes debilitating trauma.”

And Tony!! Woke up!! While Yinsen’s hand was literally inside his chest!!

But that barely registers in the grand scheme of his horror because hey, what’s waking up during surgery compared to watching young soldiers get shot in front of him and knowing it’s his fault? What’s that compared with living three months in constant pain and terror as a captive of his worst enemies, knowing that he could be killed at any moment, and he’s not even sure if anyone would be looking for his body? What’s that compared to literal torture, simulated drowning over and over again while clutching the car battery that’s keeping him alive because if a wire falls into the water he could be electrocuted? What’s that compared to the knowledge that his negligence has led to the slaughter of hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people?

And then he gets home from all of that, and remember he’s really just a normal citizen and has never been taught how to deal with such hugely traumatic events, to be betrayed and left today by the man he considered a father. ONCE AGAIN HE WAS STUCK IN HIS OWN BODY, UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING AS HE DIED.

I mean, fuck! What the fuck!! How do you just recover from that???

Then, then, he is slowly poisoned to death by his own creation, then he’s sent to confront the void of space and his own insignificance, then he has to watch the woman he loves get tortured, then he’s forced to imagine everyone he loves and cares about dead or dying and believes it’s his fault, I mean Jesus Christ! I’m probably forgetting some stuff!! He never gets a fucking break!!

Tony Stark is bouncing from one traumatic experience from another like the world’s worst pinball machine!! No fucking wonder he’s suffering from debilitating PTSD, from depression and grief and self-loathing, from completely untreated mental illness. He is just trying to keep the people he loves safe, that is his number one goal at all times, always, and instead of recognizing his symptoms for what they are and trying to help him in return, his “friends” simultaneously take advantage of his generosity and hate on and criticize him for what are, quite frankly, quite understandable reactions to the honestly ridiculous amount of horrible things he’s lived through in just a few short years.

I’m sorry I lost my train of thought, it’s very late and I’m very passionate, but basically what I’m trying to say is: give Tony Stark a break for fuck’s sake!! He is ill and suffering and he is just trying his best goddamn it!! Fuck!!!!

the thing about being a young woman is that they will take everything from you. and i mean everything. and they will make it about them. your makeup, your clothes, how much you eat. your attitude, your hairstyle, your gym routine. they will take your driving and your train stations and your video games. your sexuality as sexy, your gender identity as a fetish, your cooking. your tv shows and your high heels and every harmless thing. 

if they cannot eat it, if it does not satisfy them, it will be an immediate shame. they cannot control how much you put food into your body, so it is seen as disgusting. your love of starbucks is your vapid need, your comfortable boots are symbols of your inherent stupidity. your fake nails, your body’s natural cycles, the hair on you. bath bombs, pink, the low singing of women talking about depression. your crazy, your hyper, your laughter, your loud, your excited, your passions. the things which are yours, that do not belong to them, that cannot be taken and devoured like flower petals, cannot be sucked dry until the wilt forms in you. 

do not satisfy them. let them starve. let them shy from the sin of you, the unfettered sinfulness of loving taking up space.

ME, on seeing Depp-as-Grindelwald for the first time:

“Holy crap Gellert, you aged into one ugly motherfucker!”

“How the hell do you start out looking like Jamie Campbell Bowler and up and decide that ‘crossbreed between Adolf Hitler and Donald Trump’ is the aesthetic that REALLY speaks to your heart?”

“I bet learning about this was what made Dumbledore finally stop moping and defeat you for good.  Like Newt comes back from America, hauls himself to his office and just straight up shoves a mugshot in his face.”

“YES PROFESSOR THIS IS WHAT YOUR EX LOOKS LIKE NOWADAYS.”

“NOTE THE HAIR. Actually note the everything, but ESPECIALLY the hair.”

“You don’t want to tap that ass, professor.”

“You want to KICK that ass.”

“Also he appears to have traded you for an American woobie half your age, just saying.”

“#scamanderout”

I really love Carey Fangbattle so just a little hc dump about team sweet flips and her best bro/student Magnus. 

  • Carey being the first to learn about Julia and going home and just holding onto a very confused Killian saying how much she loves her over and over again. 
  • Carey+Killian switch on who decides dates but they’re the couple who turns everything into a little date. Trips to storage? Date. Chilling in the laundry room eating bad BOB food? Date. Killian kicking Magnus’ ass in a wrestling match? Date. 
  • Carey will just stare at Killian’s muscles and thank god. She’s just…thankful. 
  • “Babe I love your thighs.” “I know Carey.” “Like babe you could kill me with these.” “I know Carey.” “Babe….I would totally be ok with you killing me with your thighs.” “I know Carey. You tell me every night.” “BUT IT’S TRUE.” 
  • She keeps training Mags and wastes no chances on teasing him and playing keep away with his personal items (Angus personal request) 
  • Carey talking to Magnus about a wedding plans and then backtracking because dead wife zone but Magnus just waving it off and helping her get stuff together. 
  • Magnus making a gazebo for them and walking Carey down the aisle (The director marries them, Merle is KIllian’s best man, and Taako makes some food for the guests. They leave a seat open in the front row for Boyland.) 
  • Magnus is letting out the LOUDEST sobs the entire time like just wailing and muttering “They’re just…so in love…and im so happy for them…” and Taako patting his back while Merle cries much quieter into a hankey. 
  • Kravitz being Taako’s plus one and it is awkward for everyone but Taako who doesn’t notice  why bringing ur boyfriend who tried to kill your friends and is also literally death to a wedding could be awkward. 
  • Carey throws the flowers at kravitz by the way and Taako doesn’t understand.
  • Cary and Killian actually go off base (In a wedding themed canon blast off) for their honeymoon and just have a week off. 
  • Magnus sitting in the Killian+Carey home talking about his crush on (whoever you ship w/ Mags if you ship him here)and Killian tries to give advice while Carey just keeps singing the kissing in a tree song. 
  • She rarely does it but when Killian starts laughing she snorts and gasps for air and Carey has a quiet giggle that steadily gets louder the longer you keep them going. Some nights they’re just rag on every member of BOB and just howl with laughter.
  • Carey and Killian having code words and little thing they do before missions to keep each other safe. Like a “If I say this you absolutely have to trust me no matter what” and they usually kiss and say “I’ll see you when I get home” instead of goodbye because its bad luck. 
  • I’m still not over the idea of Carey casually bringing up “Whose Julia” after she hears Mags ask Kravitz about her and Magnus getting really quiet before telling her, and by the end of it she’s sobbing and tells him to talk to her if she needs anything. Carey just going home red eyed and asking KIllian if they could stay in and just cuddle and watch a movie and it’s one of the first times Carey EVER worries about what would happen if one of them got hurt during a mission. 
  • Killian and Carey have a long talk and breaking it down about how they need to trust each other and how they’re too good at their job for something bad to happen. 
  • I just really love team sweet flips and Magnus+Carey sister brother duo. 

I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM MAKING THIS RIGHT NOW.

This blog has grown into something I never imagined. It seems like yesterday that I was posting the first chapters of The City and of Weights & Measures. Sometimes I get really overwhelmed when I think about everything that has happened, especially in the last few months.

There are no words to describe how much it all means to me. You all have helped me keep going, not just as a writer but as a person. So many of you were there for me during one of the hardest periods of my life. Sending me messages that made my cry because I could feel every ounce of your love in your words. Making me suffer through all the jidevil posts you continue to tag me in. 

I just hope that I can give back what you have given me. You all have helped me find my voice again. And I cannot thank you enough for that. 

From the bottom of my heart, regardless if you are mentioned here or not, thank you. Everyone i interact with is a beautiful human being and I want to thank BTS for bringing us all together. 

so here we go!

Keep reading

ff-sunset-oasis  asked:

Heyyyy Andrea so I'm just wondering what are your thoughts on Blaise Zabini's mom? Like, I'm always love how you occasionally slipped her into your stories with Blaise, usually just some passing mention but the descriptions always got me very intrigued - so just want to ask what's your thoughts/views about her? Thanks <3

HA HA it’s not like I’ve been waiting my entire life for someone to ask me about blaise zabini’s mother or anything that would be dumb that would be i ns a ne im fine let’s do this:

  • for nineteen years, her name is elizabeth.
  • lizzie, her father calls her, with the same sort of simple, incredulous affection he directs at her mother—her mother, the witch, who brews potions that smell like anise and cinnamon, who wrinkles her nose at the rolling green hills of the english countryside, who wears a gleaming silver scorpion pendant around her neck and tells elizabeth bedtime stories about hot desert nights and crumbling pyramids and brilliant, scheming queens who spilled blood and conquered continents and stole thrones—and all with small, secret smiles on their faces.
  • elizabeth isn’t lizzie.
  • elizabeth goes to hogwarts; lizzie does not.
  • elizabeth is sorted into slytherin; lizzie is not.
  • elizabeth slinks through the halls, learns how to listen and how to lie and how to levitate a peacock feather; lizzie does not. elizabeth collects lipsticks she’s too young for, slick crimsons and glossy violets, highlights the arches of her cheekbones with burnished bronze powder and lines her eyes in liquid, velvety black; lizzie does not. elizabeth speaks and says nothing, lowers her gaze and sees everything, enchants as effortlessly as she entraps; lizzie does not.
  • instead, lizzie goes home for the summer, braids her hair into two neat plaits and picks wildflowers with her father, laughs pretty and easy and loud, loud like she can’t when she’s at school, because the dungeons have high ceilings and long memories and an alarming tendency to produce variables she knows she can’t control; not like elizabeth can.
  • elizabeth doesn’t make mistakes.  
  • lizzie does.
  • lizzie is eighteen and punching her time card at the ministry and dreaming about palm trees swaying in a heavy summer breeze, about pillows of sand slipping through her fingertips, about crystal blue skies and sheer linen dresses and skin tanned a dark, silky brown by the heat of the sun.  
  • and she meets a boy. a man. a visiting diplomat with a lilting accent and a fan of laugh lines around his eyes and a luxuriously appointed suite at the savoy that starts to feel like home—too much, too soon.  
  • “you’re beautiful,” he tells her, and it’s elizabeth whose mouth curves up slyly, invitingly, as she replies, “i know.”
  • “you’re perfect,” he tells her, and it’s lizzie whose heart races, whose breath skips, whose lips tremble as she replies, “i know.”
  • “i love you,” he tells her, and she doesn’t know where elizabeth stops and lizzie begins when she replies, “i love you, too.”
  • and he buys her extravagant gifts and he makes her extravagant promises and then he unceremoniously leaves; goes back to italy—to his wife, to his children, to his peach-pink villa on the mediterranean coast with the sweeping balconies and the sparkling turquoise swimming pool—the day before she realizes she’s pregnant.  
  • the ensuing rage—it’s quiet, really, a low, sad, gentle simmer deep in the pit of her stomach that could rock her to complacency if she let it.  
  • she doesn’t let it.
  • instead, she considers her options. she sends a letter. she opens her own gringott’s vault. she calmly answers, “morning sickness,” when her nosiest coworker asks why she’s been late all week. she sends another letter. she moves into a nicer flat, the kind with a doorman and a concierge and a lot of wealthy neighbors. she develops a strange craving for candied dates. she bides her time.
  • elizabeth calls it justice; lizzie calls it blackmail.
  • the day after she discovers she’s having a boy, she sends one last letter, dusts the slow-drying ink with a gold-tinged powder that smells like anise and cinnamon, and she thinks about hazy, blistering sunsets shimmering red and yellow and orange, about wide-open limestone palaces and gods that expect you to start wars for them and buttery leather sandals caked brown with old blood.  
  • elizabeth calls it justice; lizzie calls it revenge.
  • five months later, she’s gritting her teeth and squeezing the midwife’s hand and desperately wondering if the pain will ever end.  
  • it does.
  • and then she’s staring down at a baby—hers, hers—and he’s impossibly tiny and impossibly warm and impossibly helpless. his mouth relaxes into a pout, and his eyes slit open, glassy and unfocused and so dark they might as well be colorless.  
  • she names him blaise.
  • she names him blaise because blaise is a name that can’t be cut in half, and she watches him sleep while the midwife lectures her about feedings and nappies and the bare spot on her finger where a wedding ring should be. there’s a tightness in elizabeth’s chest, fierce and fearful, both, that does nothing but multiply the longer she looks at him, her son, and she understands—suddenly, and with a perfect stab of clarity—why her father had wanted her to be lizzie.
  • no one has ever hurt her twice.
  • no one will ever hurt him at all.