irresolutism

Pink Love Potions - George Weasley

Prompt: Fred and George ask the reader to smell a love potion and when she can only associate the scent with George she refuses to tell them. 

Words: 3,259

Warning: None, fluff. 


“Y/n, our dearest darling friend, we’re in need of your assistance.” Peeking out from over your essay you found a set of two feet standing in front of you. There was no need to look up, your accusation was confirmed by the mismatched socks. The Weasley twins hardly sorted out their clothes and snagged the closest, cleanest smelling, item they could find and threw them on. Also over half their socks had holes in them causing their big toes to break free from the rest of their friends.

There was also the towering shadow that casted over you that gave away their identity as well. The boys beat you in height by a mile- or rather so at least a foot. If you walked by their side travailing to and from classes, you were jogging half the time and out of breath when reaching your destination. Not to say this was out of the ordinary or loathed, you enjoyed working overtime to keep up with the boys. Besides by the end of the day you had reached two days’ worth of cardio and were all set.

“Oh no. What have you two gotten yourself into now?” You rose an eyebrow at the pair. On look at them and there was no question about it, they were up to no good. George had his hands behind his back and look slightly bothered. You set your homework down on the table in front of you and went to ask him if he was alright but Fred started in instead.

Keep reading

1. you dream of green, of a world where you do not hold him in you like a purple wound; gaping, savage and angry. in this universe, he does not whisper out of your room at six in the morning 
while your mouth still reeks of crying

2. you spent the first three weeks sick, voice an empty mailbox. others pitied your silence, but you were secretly fond of it, of the listening and the witnessing, of remaining apart and together at once; if someone had looked closer you might have come apart - the stories they imagined
didn’t bubble so much as leak like when you were young you were at a lake and scooped up pebbles and let them drop back into the water,
grain by grain,
learning how to sow

3. what comes forwards from the closet is always the same figure, and his mouth is never there. you got the house blessed but there’s still demons. you are also numb and speechless, also a figure, but a figure that represents more than a figure that exists. who are you in the minds of other people? this idea haunts you more than the ghost, who of course is only doing his job, so you forgive him.

4. four is a bad number.

5. you spat it up with your toothpaste into the white porcelain of the sink you grew up with. the sink you have stained with paint and hair dye and lipstick. you feel like seafoam, floating and irresolute, a saline solution that mimics the art of blood, pumping through veins that constantly argue.

6. you miss him so much you attempt to write a poem about it and instead fixate on the skin by your fingernail, ragged and raw like lung meat.

7. for a moment, you think of saying
i’ll be good,
come back to me.
you could tear off your loose bits even if it meant using teeth.

8. eight is also a bad number. four and four. two eyes, or a headless snowman, or the day before her birthday, or also one more than seven, a good number, the down after the up. the wheel always turns, seven always turns to eight, and you always get left behind.

9. inside of a panic attack, you remind yourself that he would have hated seeing you like this.

10. maybe it wasn’t him but rather how you looked in the mornings.

11. the problem is that wounds always stitch with white skin, scar tissue, bloodless memories in physical form, your body’s complaint list against you, a tally of your sins and how many times you’ve let down yourself and everyone around you, like you stand not in a puddle but a halo, an aura of defeat, a mobile mass of tiny moments, each with their own mouths and teeth.

12. you learned about the nature of scars naturally, and then unnaturally, and then again in tenth grade biology. you thought there was something funny and sad and odd that your body won’t put blood back into the places you’ve scratched it out. as if that could get you to stop picking wounds. when you were little and in pain the first thing you did was shove whatever was bleeding into that maw of yours. you suck on pain. succor it.

13. you itch a scab off by accident. new blood crawls out, hungry and demanding. thirteen is a fine number. prime number. the incident of your mental illness is undiscussed, a featherlight touch in your poems.

14. fourteen isn’t a bad number but it’s not a good one. when you turned fourteen you didn’t know you loved her. a summer spent like stamps, shipped and shattered, freshly licked. you cut yourself on the envelope, and your tongue bled.

15. is that what this is about; bleeding tongues.

16. is that what this is about; forgiving him and moving on.

17. is that what this is about; no more air in my lungs.

Hello everyone! Something a little different here today!

I wanted to make a sort of chart for the canon human soul traits, their negative attributes/mirrors, and opposites.

So what’s the difference between a Negative Attribute/Mirror to the Opposite trait?

Negative Traits aren’t opposites of the soul trait, but are negative reflections of the trait. For example, JUSTICE’s negative mirror is RETRIBUTION, because RETRIBUTION is taking things into your own hands and punishing others based upon your own judgement which doesn’t always mean you’re in the right to do so. In fact, RETRIBUTION is often associated with anger and revenge rather than fair JUSTICE.

The rest of this post is just going to be me rambling about the idea, so I do apologize for that.

BRAVERY

  • Negative - Heedlessness. Heedlessness is when you jump into a situation without thinking it through. It’s also a synonym for recklessness.
  • Opposite - Cowardice. Of course, the opposite of being brave is cowering in fear. I do want to make a point that being afraid is not the same as being a coward. Cowardice is running away when you’re scared, Bravery is standing your ground when you’re scared.

JUSTICE

  • Negative - Retribution. As I said before, Retribution is when you punish someone more so out of revenge than fairness.
  • Opposite - Corruption. When you yourself are committing the malicious act, the crime, the wrong thing. You are more morally black than white.

PERSEVERANCE

  • Negative - Resignation. If Perseverance is supposed to be the will power and strength to endure harsh times and trials, then Resignation is the acceptance of something undesirable but inevitable.Not surrendering, but not actively fighting back. You’re in a sort of standstill.
  • Opposite - Capitulation. The act of surrendering or ceasing to resist an opponent or demand. You don’t have the willpower or strength to endure the harsher trials, and you do what’s easier–which means to surrender to your opposing force and obey it/them.

PATIENCE

  • Negative - Inertia. Patience means to actively tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting upset, but Inertia means to have a tendency to do nothing or to remain unchanged. Lethargic, almost like sloth.
  • Opposite - Impatience. A bit of a boring obvious one, and pretty self explanatory. You can’t tolerate delay, trouble or suffering without getting upset.

INTEGRITY

  • Negative - Sanctimonious. Integrity is about sticking to your morals, but Sanctimonious means to put your morals above others and believe your morals and self are better than every one elses. A sort of Self-righteousness.
  • Opposite - Hypocrisy. Holding someone to one standard then someone else or yourself to another. You don’t stick to the same consistent morality, you just hop around and say whatever suits you in the moment.

KINDNESS

  • Negative - Bleeding Heart. Sadly, this is the only soul trait that I couldn’t find a single word for, but there’s a danger in being too kind. Having a Bleeding Heart means that you are dangerously soft-hearted, to the point where you are kind towards those whom do not deserve it, even if they hurt you time and time again, or you give kindness to someone who takes advantage of it, intentionally or not.
  • Opposite - Cruelty. Another sort of obvious opposite. Rather than wanting to help others, you take satisfaction in hurting others. Simple as that.

DETERMINATION

  • Negative - OBSESSION. - Think about how there’s that one game where the boss you’re stuck on is only just a little bit too strong for you to beat. Or that one class in school that you have a 99% in. That one rival of yours whom is just a little  bit better than you. Your DETERMINATION to best these situations can easily become OBSESSION, the feeling of abandoning everything else for the sake of accomplishing your goal… even to the point of abandoning your morals just to satisfy yourself.
  • Opposite - IRRESOLUTION. Hesitant, uncertain. The feeling of being stuck in one place, and unable to continue forward. if DETERMINATION is the act of actively chasing your goals, then IRRESOLUTION is the moment when you can’t, or don’t.

So, what happens when a human displays a NEGATIVE of their soul trait?

Well… nothing. They’re not cancelling out their soul trait, but rather, their state of mind has changed, for the worse. A SOUL’S power isn’t affected by the Negative mirror, and sometimes it can even be dangerously enhanced by it.

When a human displays the OPPOSITE trait of their soul trait, however, their soul weakens. It dims. It loses the ability to preform the powers it was able to beforehand. The more of this negative trait you display the weaker your soul gets.

I’m not sure what else to add, but feel free to tell me what you think! I had fun with this, so I hope everyone else does too!

17 Things I Learnt in 2017 (Life Edition)

  1. You don’t have to fit into some box. You can like pink frilly dresses and heavy metal. You’re a human and you’re allowed to be multi-dimensional.
  2. Don’t keep nice thoughts to yourself. If you admire someone’s new haircut, let them know. If you liked a waiter’s service, let their manager know. Life is too short to let kind things be unsaid.
  3. Sometimes you’re going to miss out. Life is full of wonderful opportunities, don’t let one missed opportunity make you doubt that.
  4. Sometimes life isn’t against you, sometimes you are against you.
  5. Don’t treat people how you’d like to be treated. Treat them better than you’d like to be treated.
  6. If you try to take care of your body, your body will try to take care of you.
  7. Your family will never be perfect but neither will you.
  8. Your friends are the family you get to choose.
  9. Stop chasing perfection, start chasing better.
  10. Be happy for other people’s light without damning yourself to darkness.
  11. If you’re constantly afraid of situations, don’t convince yourself that they won’t happen. Convince yourself that you’ll be strong enough to deal with them if they do.
  12. Don’t let anyone convince you that your passions are lame and apathy is cool.
  13. Allowing people to change your opinions doesn’t mean you’re irresolute. It simply means that you’re open-minded.
  14. Never be afraid to admit you were wrong.
  15. Never be afraid to say you don’t like something. Peer pressure can be very real, but it has nothing against your strength.
  16. It’s okay to be a work in progress. Moving forward, no matter how slowly, is still moving forward.
  17. Life is going to put you outside of your comfort zone. I’ve found if you do it voluntarily, with a positive attitude, your comfort zone expands to more of a comfort city.

Note: these are just my experience. I don’t try to speak for everyone’s experience! Feel free to share the lessons you learnt too :)

W miłości najważniejszy jest trójkąt. I nie chodzi mi o sytuację kiedy one dwie klęczą, ani nawet o taką gdy ona klęczy przy dwóch samcach.

Trójkąt ma trzy wierzchołki.

Jeden to intymność.

Drugi to namiętność.

A trzeci to zaangażowanie.

—  Pokolenie Ikea (via irresolutes)
If you were a cat... pt.2

or an astrological guide to the mystery of your cat; I mean how else are we supposed to understand this creatures

Libra

The Libran cat thinks it has star quality and it demands a lot. A high standard of living and elegant surroundings are vitally important. As it has loads of charm and usually looks entrancing, it gets its own way quite easily but, even when things go wrong, it seldom loses its temper. Venus rules these cats, making them the romantics of the zodiac. The Libra is a flirty cat, chatting up the other neighborhood cats any chance they get. But though these cats are multitalented, Libras often need help making a decision. This is the cat who will meow at the door to be let outside only to return a few minutes later to be let back in. A favourite pastime of the Libran cat is watching humans at work. It can sit glued to the spot for hours, observing your every move, trying to make sense of what your doing. You’ll quite often see a Libran cat following its favourite human like a dog. It loves sleeping on a nice soft bed and however often you shoo it away, it will be back next moment, whether you’re in bed or not. Think yourself lucky if you can at least train it to prefer the end of the bed and not take up the whole pillow.

Scorpio

The Scorpio cat likes investigate its surrounding and is constantly exploring every nook and cranny of your home. With its inventive mind, it can think up all sorts of new uses for household furnishings and other items. Many Scorpio cats for example settle down for a siesta in the drum of the washing machine. Whatever you may think, your Scorpio cat know you are really its slave and, if you haven’t noticed - well, that’s a tribute to your cats intelligence. The Scorpio is also extremely intuitive and can sense when the mood has shifted in the room before anyone has the chance to say anything. Scorpio cats are happiest living on a farm where they can roam freely and have adventures. They are good hunters and can survive for days in the open country without human help. It will love to crawl into bed whit you in the morning to try and distract you from getting on with the business of your day. A bit of an aggressive egoist, it likes to prove itself the better cat in a fight; of course it does - it’s programmed to be a champ. Despite their brazenness these are some of the sweetest, most catlike cats of the zodiac.  

Sagittarius

The adventurous Sagittarian cat is a free spirit and real high flyer - which means if may also come a cropper. Always optimistic, it never learns from its mistakes. In fact, nothing will shake its belief in itself and its own capabilities. The Sagittarian cat is definitely the outdoor type and can’t bear to be confined in small spaces. These cats seem to possess the best of both worlds. They are both athletic and brilliant, and require a lot of mental stimulation to keep their brains fresh and sharp. With its adaptable and restless nature, the Sagittarian cat enjoys going on holiday with you. It prefers four-star hotels, but will make do with something more modest: the opportunity to go out exploring is what really matters. The Sagittarius will not want to much. Making life comfortable for these cats shouldn’t be a challenge - that is the beauty of owning one of these low-maintenance felines, but don’t forget to give these cats the adventurous life they deserve! The Sagittarius is intuitive and will read your emotions carefully. It is also known as the cuddliest in the zodiac, but it can, and will show affection in its own way.

Capricorn

Capricorn cats are ambitious. Once they start something they don’t give up easily - whether it’s fishing a hairpin out of a crack in the floorboards or making friends with the dog next door. But the Capricorn cat is always quick to spot any danger and will take steps to avoid it, so it runs little risk of getting hurt. Although generally well balanced, the Capricorn needs a lot of human and animal contact and is likely to get depressed and melancholy without it. Rest is more important than food to this cat, and it needs plenty of time to mediate. Despite its need for contact, it is inclined to be reclusive and will indulge this tendency frequently. You’ll probably find that if you sleep past the time your Capricorn eats, it will gently remind you with a paw to the nose or a decent meow in your sleeping ear to help remind you. Feed it on time, offer it lots of space and love (when requested) and reap the benefits of befriending these felines. Because loyalty is the strongest facet of this cat, you can depend on to the Capricorn to sense when you need it most. Let the Capricorn know when your day is rough and it’ll most likely close the eyes and soothingly purr. You’ll start to feel you blood pressure lower and your pulse begin to even out.

Aquarius

An Aquarian cat is a complicated creature, often at odds with itself. Part of it wants to be loving and affectionate, another part feels duty bound to show its claws. It begs for milk and then sits irresolutely in front of its bowl. It’s ingenuity gets into the most unlikely places and it will happily stay hidden away for hours, but arouse its curiosity or its appetite and it will come out, playful as ever, as if nothing had happened. The Aquarius cat can be extremely idealistic and dreamy, but only because it wants the best for the world. These are the cats you see on the news caring for abandoned baby chicks or other helpless creatures. You will see the Aquarius cat starring off into space frequently. This is because it is busy having big thoughts about the world around it and it is much more in tune with the world than people give it credit for. In spite of its contrary behavior towards you, the Aquarian cat has great admiration for everything human. You may not have noticed but it is doing its best to be just like you. So if you want to know more about yourself, watch your cat. With so many happy traits, it’s hard to see why a person would turn down the chance to love and care for an Aquarius. Perhaps the hardest part of being with an Aquarius is sharing him with all of its admirers.

Pisces

A Pisces cat makes its own rules and lives by them. Once it’s decided to spend the day out of doors, nothing and no one can lure it back in. If it thinks it is time for a nap, it will pick a dustbin or mixing bowl of its choice an settle down, never mind what you say. This cat is loved by all, but understood by few. This is perhaps her best charm: mystery. Some day it will be the most gregarious cat you have ever met, and the next day she will be elusive and hard to find. Since it has difficulty following anyone else’s rules, a Pisces cat fits best into a relaxed household where everyone does their own thing. With unerring instinct, the Pisces cat picks up human moods and react to them. If you need comforting, it will rub gently round your legs. If you want entertaining, it will lay on a show. Pisces cats love all things soft and fluffy, so be prepared to give up a pillow or two to this cat. It’s probably not surprising that the Pisces loves food from the sea, after all she is both a cat and a water sign. A little tuna and a little imaginative play is all it takes to keep these funny cats happy.

sources: Astrology For Cats (Traudl and Walter Reiner); Cat Zodiac (Maeva Considine)

Dreams

November 2005

He woke to Sam’s startled, strangled cry, and he was on his feet with his Colt cool in his hand before he realized that his brother had been dreaming.

‘Sammy, Jesus Christ,’ he muttered, thumbing the safety back on before he put a bullet through the goddamned lampshade. Sam looked up at him from the other bed, sweaty-faced, wet-eyed, and then kicked free from the tangle he’d made of his sheets and ran for the bathroom; the light went on and the door slammed shut and a heartbeat later Dean heard him throwing up the little he’d eaten at supper—a shitty apple and half an egg-salad sandwich from the Kwik Stop on the highway, and a candy bar Dean had practically forced down his gullet, ‘cause his kid clearly needed protein, and Snickers had, y’know, peanuts. 

Damn it.

He tucked the gun back beneath his pillow, scrubbed a hand across his hair and stood irresolute for a moment in the center of their room, then padded quietly over to the bathroom door.  Rested his forehead and one hand against the thin cheap wood, didn’t open it. ‘Sam,’ he said. ‘You all right, man?’

One breath, two. ‘M fine,’ his brother managed, which Dean would have believed, sure, no problem, if only the kid hadn’t sounded like he’d been flayed open and left for dead on the side of the fucking road. 

***

They worked a few cases, saved a few people, hunted a few things. Sam lost ten pounds and stopped sleeping anywhere save for the cradle of the front seat, with the road humming beneath Baby’s tires and his head tipped against the window, a pained furrow between his brows. 

He still woke, always, from a nightmare.

He was, always, fine.

***

They were in western Indiana, one state line and 250 miles from a room full of shattered mirrors, when Dean opened his eyes, a little after midnight, to find Sam sitting on the edge of the other bed, head in his hands, sheets and blankets a messy tumble at his back. 

‘Hey,’ he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ‘You all right?’

I’m fine, he expected, but Sam said nothing, and he came all the way awake.

‘Sammy?’

In nothing but his boxers, shoulders hunched, feet bare, his little brother looked small, somehow, and painfully vulnerable. ‘ … I can’t sleep,’ he admitted, soft and young and lost. ‘I just … ‘ His fingers tightened in his hair. ‘Dean, I’m so tired, and I can’t—I can’t sleep.’

Dean’s heart clenched up, hard, behind his ribs, because he knew that voice, even though he hadn’t heard it in a dozen years: Dean, help, his baby brother had said, at seven, bringing him a dying bird with a broken wing; and But Dean I want to stay, he’d cried, at ten in West Virginia; and Dean and Dean and Dean, Sammy always so certain that he could fix it, that he could help, no matter how many times he failed him.

‘… I know,’ he said, quietly, because there wasn’t anything the fuck else to say, no matter how much he wished otherwise. ‘Sammy, man, the nightmares about Jess, they’re—they’re gonna get better, okay?’ he said. ‘They always do; it’s—’

Sam was shaking his head, slow and weary. ‘I’m not dreaming about Jess,’ he said, and Dean blinked at him, because what the hell? ‘I mean, I am, but not … not all the time.’ He pushed a hand back through his hair. ‘It’s always the fire,’ he said, softly. ‘But sometimes it’s … it’s Dad, on the ceiling, dying.’ A shuddery breath. ‘Most of the time it’s you.’

Dean’s throat closed up, hard. ‘Sammy,’ he managed, but the kid just shook his head again, looked up at him with desperate, pleading eyes. 

‘I can’t—I can’t keep watching you die, man; not after … you’re all I got, and I can’t …’ His voice cracked, took something in Dean’s chest with it. They were quiet for a moment, the only sound the rumble of a semi passing by outside on the highway, and the low murmur of the TV from the manager’s office on the other side of the wall.

‘C’mere,’ Dean finally said. He scooted over in the narrow double bed. ‘Just … grab your pillow, all right? You ain’t gonna get any sleep over there.’

He could have sworn he saw his little brother flushing in the dark. ‘D-Dean, I … I don’t–’

He smacked the mattress, once. ‘Shut up and lie your bony ass down, Sasquatch. I ain’t gonna tell you again.’

It took a minute, but four years’ distance apparently hadn’t sapped all of his Big Brother mojo, because Sam finally crawled in beside him, hesitantly, mattress lurching briefly beneath his weight.

They lay quietly for awhile, both of them on their backs, shoulders close but not touching in the dark.

‘Hey, you remember that awesome diner in Georgia from when you were a kid?’ Dean asked. ‘With the waffles and the peanut butter pie?’

He didn’t think it was going to work for a moment, but then, softly: ‘The one with the big peach on the sign? Outside Savannah?’

‘Yeah. Dad and I ended up back there about four months ago, after we cleaned up a haunting in the city. They still got the pie. I was worried, you know? That they’d be sellin’, like, tofu cheesecake or somethin’ by now, but they still got it. Same dumb curtains, same dumb tablecloths, same awesome pie. Sweet potato fries are still good, too.’ He shifted a little, settling himself more comfortably. ‘What were you, twelve, when you polished off that basket of ‘em? The owner came out to take a picture.’ He didn’t mention that he’d found it in August, a Polaroid tacked up on the wall with three hundred others, Sammy sweet-faced and floppy-haired and shyly smiling, or that it was tucked safely now in the glove box, with the few other precious things Dean owned.

He could hear Sam’s smile, even if he couldn’t see it; could feel the tension starting to drain a little from his brother’s long body. ‘Yeah,’ he said. And then: ‘You got the recipe from the cook, remember? Tried to make them for me the next time we were at Bobby’s.’

‘Yeah, well. Not all of my plans are genius, Sammy,’ he said, and his brother snorted out a soft little laugh in the dark. 

Dean talked on, softly, about nothing important: a diner he and Dad had found in Nebraska one Christmas Eve; a ski cabin in Maine they’d slept warm and safe in for a week; the massive, moss-covered oak he’d spend a night under on Jekyll Island, waiting for the ghosts of a slaver and his son. After awhile Sam rolled onto his side, curling up bit by bit in the space between them until his forehead was touching Dean’s arm and one bony knee bumping against Dean’s leg; a little while longer and there were long, hesitant fingertips settling soft against his ribs, like his little brother just wanted to make sure he was real, that he was there. Dean was reminiscing fondly about a burger called the Mac Attack he’d found in Boston when he heard the kid’s breath finally settle into the slow, easy rhythm of sleep.

He lay quietly for a long while beside his brother in the dark, and never knew when he tumbled headlong into dreaming.

***

He woke a little after 7:00, their room still dark, December rain coming down steady and cold outside. Sam was still sound asleep, sprawled across Dean’s chest the same way he’d slept as a kid, tucked in under Dean’s arm with his face hidden in the crook of Dean’s neck and one arm and leg thrown over him in a haphazard tangle of limbs. Warm to his bones, Dean shifted just a little to ease the cramping in his lower back; Sam snuffled and kicked and wound himself more tightly around him in reply. ‘D’n,’ he mumbled.

Dean settled a hand in his brother’s hair, and closed his eyes against the coming day.

Metamorphosis: Chapter 14 - Jet Black, Part One.
The premise: What if Claire conceived on her wedding night?

You can read previous chapters here.


October 20th, 1743; Inside the Courthouse

“Let us call the next witness,” bellowed the jowled examiner, dismissing the man who’d recounted my brush with the Loch Ness monster with a flick of his hand, “Laoghaire MacKenzie of Castle Leoch.”

It wasn’t a surprise, per se, to see Laoghaire step forward to cast her stone, but I also hadn’t expected it. I’d known since the very beginning that she was the one behind this whole debacle, and, yet, it seemed I’d underestimated her.

Laoghaire would stop at nothing to ensure that I was convicted guilty of witchcraft.

“She wasna Mistress Fraser when we first became acquainted,” the bitch began, “she was Mistress Beauchamp then. I came to her for a potion tha’ would open Jamie Fraser’s heart to my own.”

Wavering, she brought a white handkerchief to her cheek, eliciting a murmuring of sympathy from the crowd, “I’m sorry, tis painful to talk about.”

Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, how could anyone believe these crocodile tears?

“Did you concoct such a potion?” The examiner on the left demanded.

“It wasn’t an actual potion,” my head spun at the preposterous accusation, “I was just trying to–“

Ned Gowan leapt up from his bench, “Clearly, she’s a just a young lass with a broken heart!”

“Aye! My heart was broken,” Laoghaire rounded on him, eyes blazing, “I was the one Jamie was meant to marry!”

She quickly regained her composure, her sudden fury slipping beneath a mask of feigned grief, and started again, “When I confronted her about the potion, she said she’d taken it herself, that she needed Jamie to fall in love with her to conceal the true nature of her bastard child. She told me how she’d lain with her kelpie lover and conceived in Loch Ness and without Jamie’s affection the bairn wouldna be born human.”

My jaw dropped involuntarily as I struggled to process her words. The uproar around me spoke of their immediate comprehension, but I was still several paces behind.

I — with — what the hell?

“And—” she waited until she could be heard once more, “and that’s when she struck me.”

“This is nonsens—“

“Did you, in fact, strike this woman?” The first examiner inquired, outraged.

Yes, and if she was within reach just now, I’d gladly do so again.

”She put an ill-wish under my bed and then tried to seduce my husband!” I exclaimed instead.

Later, by the shores of Loch Beannacharain on the outskirts of Cranesmuir.

I cried out as the leather strap struck me oncetwicethree times. Each lash tore across my shoulder blades with the searing heat of a branding iron, every stroke encouraging the mob of uneducated peasants into an even greater frenzy.

Four.

My body recoiled, pulling against the men who held my bonds. They stood firm, irresolute as they leered at me. My bare back and gaping bodice left little to their imagination, it seemed, and they made no effort to hide the pleasure they found in their job.

Five.

“Ye’ll burn, witch,” one of them spat, making Laoghaire’s parting words swarm around my head.

I’ll dance upon your ashes.

Six.

A cry, of sort I hadn’t heard since the war, pierced the air and it was with considerable shock that I realized it had come from me. I’d lost the control over my voice, I was at the mercy of the primal instincts that overtook my body in response to the unbearable pain.

Seven.

I was plunged into a soundless chasm of darkness as a ripple of agony started at my shoulders and descended into my hips. The shockwaves stole the very air from my lungs, making me wish for death itself. I felt each individual muscle constrict and release, only to do so again and again.

Eight.

I had no doubt now, none whatsoever, that I would loose them… it was only a matter of time.

Please, my spirit begged, let it be over soon.

Nine.

“Claire!”

Jamie’s voice yanked me to the surface, up and out of my pain induced stupor. I struggled to open my eyes and, suddenly, there he was; he and Murtagh. They stood back to back, swords brandished and teeth bared as they fought their way towards me.

“Hold still,” he commanded, tossing something at my head. It hit its mark and the jet rosary Colum had given me as wedding gift fell around my neck. I’d never worn it and Jamie had kept it in his sporran from the moment his uncle had given it to me.

Addressing the crowd at large, Jamie surged forward, “Jet will burn a witch’s skin, no? Still more, I should think, would the cross of Our Lord.” I wobbled as the men who’d been holding me upright let go. Jamie pulled me to him as he lifted the crucifix off my skin, “But, see? Not a mark.”

“Sir,” one of the examiners objected, “you have no place in the workings of this court!”

“I swore an oath before the altar of God to protect this woman!” Jamie roared, his arm tightening around my waist, “If you’re telling me you consider your authority to be greater than that of the Almighty, then I must inform you that I am not of that opinion, myself.”

We slowly began creep towards the edge of the crowd, moving in the general direction of Murtagh and the horses. The mob didn’t give way for us. They muttered amongst themselves, instead, as they held their ground.

“He’s the witch’s man.”
“She’s hexed him, to be sure. Ye can see it in the lad’s eyes.”
“Look at tha’ horse! No doubt o’ what he is, ye ken.”
“The kelpie — He’s come to rescue his lass!”
“Take him too!”
“Burn him! Burn ‘em all!”

Without warning, Geillis’ voice rose over the top of the cacophony of threats and gossip, sending them all into a stunned silence.

“This woman is no witch, but I am!”

Blackpink| Their s/o being a mafia leader

Requested by Anon.

In the beginning I was very irresolute since I’ve never written or read AU’s related to Blackpink, but I’ve tried my very best. 

And sorry that it’s short since I wasn’t sure if I should write it with them having a AU opinion or what they think as real persons. I hope you understand what I mean.

Requests are open. Click here for more information.


Jisoo

Jisoo would be worried to no end about your safety. She would have been irresolute about what she should do and would ask you if you could get out off the whole thing, but after you told her that this would have heavy consequences for you and your families, she would try to accept your “job”.

“I’ll try it for you. But please be careful.”

Originally posted by aiyuji


Jennie

I think Jennie would be someone who sees how dangerous if is for you, her and your families. She would give you a ultimatum to leave the mafia or she would leave you. And she wouldn’t wait long for an answer.

“Decide. I wont endanger my life or the life of my family and I won’t wait for you to get killed.”

Originally posted by jenniekimblackpink


Rosé

She wouldn’t know what to do. She was afraid about your safety and all the bad things which could happen but she also loves you deeply. She would retreat for some time and ask you about everything. Than she would make a decision.

“Jagi…I love you, but I’m not sure…..about….all that.”

Originally posted by epikcry


Lisa

I think she would be the only one to thank that this is kind of funny. Of course she would be worried, but when you assert her that you’re able to protect you and your families, she would tease you about your “job”.

“Y’all better treat my good or I’ll tell my jagi about that.”

Originally posted by lalisamanobanblackpink

-mi
6

Fortunately for herself and for Russia, Elizabeth Petrovna, with all her shortcomings had inherited some of her father’s genius for government. Her usually keen judgment and her diplomatic tact again and again recalled Peter the Great. What sometimes appeared as irresolution and procrastination was most often a wise suspension of judgment under exceptionally difficult circumstances.

anonymous asked:

Jax Teller- Jealousy

Originally posted by come-join-themurder

An anon after my own heart! I have a whole damn fic for you under the cut that I wrote five years ago.


The Ties that Bind

summary: Jax decides to go Nomad, but not before seeking advice from an old friend. Jax Teller / OFC [1594 words]

Keep reading

Nihilism no longer wears the dark, Wagnerian, Spenglerian, fuliginous colors of the end of the century. It no longer comes from a Weltanschauung of decadence nor from a metaphysical radicality born of the death of God and of all the consequences that must be taken from this death. Today’s nihilism is one of transparency, and it is in some sense more radical, more crucial than in its prior and historical forms, because this transparency, this irresolution is indissolubly that of the system, and that of all the theory that still pretends to analyze it. When God died, there was still Nietzsche to say so – the great nihilist before the Eternal and the cadaver of the Eternal. But before the simulated transparency of all things, before the simulacrum of the materialist or idealist realization of the world in hyperreality (God is not dead, he has become hyper-real), there is no longer a theoretical or critical God to recognize his own.
—  Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation
She is Thankful for the Storm

You can read it here, too!



Luck, fate, good fortune, what have you, has not been on her side lately. So far out of reach, out of her grasp, favorable circumstances given the impression that they were unattainable, implausible. If she had believed in such a thing, she may have thought that the universe was out to get her.

She’s had her fair share of setbacks and adversity recently, some minor but some significant, this particular escapade included. She didn’t intend to spend the night in a motel in Small Town, New Hampshire; truthfully, she’d hoped that by the time she arrived, things would have been open and shut, permitting her to set the course back for home. She didn’t plan on the airport misplacing the overnight bag she’d packed just in case, regrets being the one to voluntarily check her luggage when the plane ran out of storage in the overhead compartments. She didn’t anticipate the weather, either, her umbrella resting comfortably against the entry wall to her apartment. She’s usually more equipped to handle such situations, the compact toothbrush and toothpaste in her purse the only exception to her apparent lack of preparation.

This case had been open and shut, too, unnecessary autopsies confirming ritualistic murders, a blatant confession from the man responsible. No x-file, her trek, the hour-and-a-half flight at six thirty this morning and two additional hours in a rental car, after an hour of arguing with airport staff over her lost luggage and another hour of waiting in line to obtain said rental car, had been pointless. It wasn’t enough that her desire to return back to Washington that evening had been crushed by the late-evening hour of the confession, but delays at the airport, courtesy of the storm, made it impossible for them to get home before dawn. A small, potential win extinguished by a criminal and weather; it seemed to be the story of her life.

Murphy’s Law states that, given the opportunity, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. An epigram of impalpable generalizations, such an adage doesn’t usually intimidate her. Today, however, she has succumbed to being Murphy himself.

Keep reading

たゆたう | Saizo

揺蕩う — たゆたう

  1. to sway to and fro;  to drift about;  to flutter;  to flicker;
  2. to be fickle;  to be irresolute;  to vacillate;  to waver

FANDOM: Samurai Love Ballad: Party
PAIRING: Kirigakure Saizo x MC
RATING: G
WORD COUNT: 3.0k
SUMMARYSometimes you think it could happen, you and him. Especially when he looks at you like that. He breathes your name, and nothing has ever sounded sweeter.

NOTES: Because I was a little bit unsatisfied with how abruptly they fell in love, I wanted to build on their relationship further and flesh out their feelings and thoughts out a little bit more. Especially on Saizo’s end. This takes place a year after the Divine Ending (which should’ve been less romantic and more platonic imo) where they’ve had a little more time to get to know each other.




Saizo wears the night like a second skin. The night always held a special sort of quality that made him feel safe. He prefers it this way, with shadow clinging to his skin, he can hide away and meld into the dark with ease. It’s easy for him to slink into the castle grounds undetected.

He doesn’t know where his feet are taking him until he spots pinpricks of light in the distance. Fleeting, soft. They’re your little rain ghosts dangling from the roof of your room’s veranda. They catch moonlight as they sway softly in the breeze, kindly guiding him out of the shadows and onto a familiar path. Though he finds shelter in the shadows, something stirs in his heart at the soft glow emitting from your room.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi, can you write about Malec in 2x20 where he got injured from the dragon when he is trying to closed the rift and Alec is really worried when magnus does not wake up (I'm sorry I'm not good at writing description) Thank You

Not Ready to Lose You 

Malec Drabble #15 


“Magnus!” Alec could pinpoint the exact moment when Magnus lost consciousness, his knees giving up under the weight of his body. The rift was closed, thanks to his magic, but the demon managed to escape, almost taking Magnus with him. 

“Magnus!” Alec called out again, crouching beside him and cupping his face in his hands. There was a small stream of blood on the side of his head, a shallow scrape, but no other visible injuries. Alec found his pulse and listened to his breathing, thanking the Angel for that even, steady rhythm.  

“Alec, we need to move. There might be more demons around here.” Izzy spoke up from the other side of Magnus and looked him deep in the eyes. She was worried about Magnus, but there was nothing they could do for him. They needed another warlock. 

“Wait.” Alec said, looking through Magnus’ jacket and pulling out his cellphone. “Magnus have introduced me to one of his friends. Catarina. He told me that if anything ever happened, she was the one I could trust.”  

It was a long shot, but Alec had to try it. He knew that Catarina was actually one of Magnus’ oldest and closest friends and since he and Magnus broke up, she might not like to hear from him very much. But it was Magnus who needed her, not him. 

“Catarina?” he asked after she picked up. “It’s.. It’s Alec. Alec Lightwood. Yes, Magnus is with me, but he’s injured. A demon attacked him and he’s not waking up. We’re near the rift the demons were coming from.” 

There was a moment of silence and suddenly a portal opened not too far from them. Alec had only met Catarina once before, but he immediately recognized her long dark hair and the fierce look in her eyes. 

She didn’t waste a second, coming to her knees next to Alec and running her hands over Magnus’ body. A bright golden-colored magic flew from her fingers, wrapping Magnus like a blanket and looking for injuries. It wasn’t long until the tension in her face subsided and she let her magic come back to her, leaving the wound on Magnus’ head already sealed. 

“He’s okay. He had a minor concussion, but I took care of it. It’s not the reason he’s not waking up, though. With the amount of magic he used, I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for several days.” 

Finally, Alec could feel his heart slowing down as he let his head fall against his hands on Magnus’ chest, sighing in relief.  

“Thank you.” he breathed out, looking at Catarina. Panic left his body and the lack of adrenaline caused a abrupt wave of exhaustion bear down onto him.  

There was a strange look in Catarina’s eyes. It was irresolute, like she wanted to say more, maybe even yell at Alec for what he’d done to Magnus, but something was keeping her from doing that. 

“You really do love him, don’t you?” she said at last, her voice coming to a whisper. Both her and Izzy were looking at Alec now, waiting for his answer.  

“Yeah. I do. I don’t think I can live without him anymore.”


Catarina agreed to help them take Magnus to the Institute. Alec didn’t want to leave his side, but as a leader, he had to get back. After laying Magnus down on his bed, Alec returned to Izzy an the rest of the Shadowhunters, but every now and then he’d come back and check on him.

After couple of hours, they still haven’t heard anything from Clary or Jace. On one hand, it was a relief - it meant that everything was going as it should and Valentine haven’t completed his plan yet. Alec was relying on the Parabatai bond, which he shared with Jace, to warn him if something went wrong.

On the other hand, though, the waiting was slowly killing Alec. All the demons have mystically vanished and there was nothing they could do. Just sit and wait.
In the end, it was Izzy who suggested he should take a break. He spent more time in the monitoring center than anyone else, going over the files and looking for something they missed, something that could help them take even a little step forward. 

That was how he once again found himself in his room, watching Magnus sleep. He looked peaceful and content, not the way he should after fighting a demon. The covers were pulled up almost to his shoulders and even the smudges of his makeup seemed intentional. Alec has already stripped him of his jacket and his shoes, hoping to make him comfortable.

In contrast, Alec wasn’t feeling so well. He was tired and he could feel a headache creeping up on him, which is why he decided to lie down for a bit. Not slipping under the sheets, he laid next to Magnus and focused on his breath.  

Even after Catarina’s assurance that Magnus was exhausted but alright, he couldn’t get rid of tense feeling in his chest. A calmer, more reasonable part of Alec was telling him that everything would be okay and it was only a matter of time, but the second, anxious part was screaming at Magnus to open his eyes.  

Gradually, he found himself inching closer to Magnus. Resting his head on his shoulder, playing with the little arrow on one of his necklaces and listening to the beat of his heart. 

It was one of the things Alec missed the most. Doesn’t matter how many times he woke up in the middle of the night, it was there - the low steady sound of his heartbeat right next to Alec’s, calming his mind and grounding him even during the craziest days.  

It was hard to remind himself that it wasn’t his place anymore.  

Dozing off, he felt Magnus draw in a deeper breath, one of his hands curling around Alec’s waist and caressing down his side. For a second, it was a sweet normal morning, like many that they shared in the last couple of weeks. As if nothing has changed.

“Alexander?” 

Alec went stiff, immediately starting to pull away and muttering a quiet ‘sorry’. It was over the line, he realized. Of course it was over the line. 

“Wait.” Magnus tried again, his voice hoarse and his arm firmly placed around Alec. “It’s okay, Alec. You don’t have to go.” 

It made Alec finally look at Magnus, watching his slightly parted lips and the vertical pupil of his cat eyes. He probably wasn’t able to hold the spell, not yet, revealing their true form and Alec knew, he was one of the very few people Magnus trusted enough not to care about it. Or he used to be, at least.  

“Thank you.” Magnus told him. “For not leaving me out there.” 

“You know, I could never do that.” Alec said, letting their locked gazes linger. They both mirrored the same feeling - their problems couldn’t be solved with a kiss or sleepy cuddling session, but it was the look of ‘I hope we work things out’ that made Alec believe they still had a chance. 

He wasn’t prepared to lose Magnus. And he never would be.


Here it is! ^^ I didn’t really plan on making it so long, to be honest. Does this even count as drabble anymore? 

The kind of a reconciliation scene and the presence of Catarina happened out of the blue as well, hh. Today was full of surprises! 

Also, my dad came to ask me something just as I was posting this and man I never clicked out of Tumblr so fast! It was even worse because I had a notebook with all of my notes on ALL of my fanfics opened and lying right next to me! He doesn’t speak english very well, but still it would get so awkward if he saw anything in there. Damn me and my straightforward notes, hh!

Read on Ao3.

Promt Me/Ask Me. 

Masterpost on How to Study For Media/Film

In the WACE Curriculum the Media Production and Analysis is a class where you analyse media texts and then produce a short film/photographic portfolio. The production part is pretty self explanatory and down to your creativity, however the analysis part is much harder.

Analysis is much like English, but I do Literature so I can’t say to what extent this is true. You look at the codes and conventions and contextual factors that make up how a film is created and for what purpose.

Approaching the text

When approaching the text, it’s important to take in several factors:

  • are you looking at a specific director? If so, watch some of their other films. Notice things about their style that will be beneficial to your study of this text.
  • When was the film made? What was happening then? This is the context. Look at cultural, social, political and economic factors, as well as trends in the media industry.
  • Is the film commercial or independent? Note down the budget, distribution, financing and production, and this will inform you of the controls and constraints within the specific industry.

Context

Context is essentially what was happening within the film and outside the film. The context is important for deciphering what audience the film was made for, what kind of films were being made at the time, why the film was accepted/rejected by the wider audience according to their own context etc.

Leave the film alone and focus on the political climate in the world at that time. What was happening? In the industry? Make sure you look at all these factors and note them down. Later, you’ll find some connections between the context and the film itself in terms of content, values, audience etc.

Audience

The audience is the most important part of a film - they are who the film is being made for. Deciphering the target audience of the film helps to discuss the values being presented in the text as well as the way the audience is positioned to view certain themes within the text.

  • Are they a niche audience? Art-cinema?
  • What age group? Teenagers? Children? Adults?
  • What socioeconomic background? Wealthy, white middle class people? Working class people?
  • Is it a mainstream audience? If so, how does the film appeal to a widespread set of global values?

Codes and Conventions

Now you have why and who for the film was created. The codes and conventions will allow you to use evidence by identifying the techniques used to position the audience to accept an issue in a certain way.

Aesthetic Codes and Conventions

Mise en Scene:

  • lighting
  • colour
  • framing
  • costume
  • body language
  • set design
  • props

Cinematography

  • camera movement
    • pans
    • pull in/out
    • tracking
    • jib
  • angle
    • low
    • high
    • canted

Editing

  • seamless/linear
  • abstract/non-linear
  • ambiguous
  • transitions
  • titles and font

Audio Codes and Conventions

diegetic

  • natural sounds
  • dialogue
  • props

non-diegetic

  • sound effects
  • soundtrack
  • score
  • voice-over/narration

Narrative Codes and Conventions

Characterisation - The use of character as a vehicle to communicate themes and issues

Representing Themes and Issues

  • social issues (e.g. depression, anxiety, bullying)
  • political issues (e.g. inequality, feminism, racism)
  • cultural issues (e.g. stereotypes, discrimination)
  • economic issues (e.g. poverty, debt)

How these are represented

  • Character action and dialogue
  • Costume
  • Body language
  • Reaction from other characters

Plot - the use of plot and structure to create a film sequence and storyline

  • linear, three-part story structure
  • non-linear, irresolution, ambiguity
  • circular - loops around to end where it began
  • chapter-divided chronological story
  • flashbacks

When studying make sure you note all these things down. Make a mind map to see how they connect to one another if you’re confused, and then write essays and plan responses to practice as well as embed the knowledge in your mind.

I’m not an expert but these are my tips and I really love media it’s my favourite class. Hope these help xx

Irresolute (Fred W. x Reader)

Description: May i request a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader is the cheerleaders captain of the gryffindor team, and Fred is in love with her but he thinks he doesn’t has a chance with her because everybody wants her, but she loves him back? (A/N- Okay so Im not comfortable with the L word if Reader and character haven’t been dating for a while, so you’ll have to settle with a crush)

Word Count: 1.1k


“ Oi, (Y/L/N)!” called a voice from a group of sixth-year boys. You grimaced before turning around to face Avery Jennings.

“ Yes?” you asked, already wanting the conversation over before it had even begun.

He gave you a smirk, “ I saw you do a split out on the field the other week, I was thinking maybe you could do that again- in a different setting of course.” he said with a wink.

Keep reading

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave….. Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
—  Patrick Henry (1736-1799 ) American statesman and  revolutionary

anonymous asked:

Funny, I saw the anon about ship Jimin/Everyone and makes me realize that I started shippin Kookmin and Vmin, but I don't know what happened in the middle that now I only see Vmin like really good friends, like a beautiful friendship, but with Jungkook it's a different story, like I see/feel that is more than just a friendship, but also when I see some post about some Jikook moments too elaborate I'm just like " Nah, even for me that's too much ". So, concluding I totally understand u! hahaha

I’m really glad to see all these outbursts of “WAIT I ONLY SHIP JIKOOK TOO” lol

As much as I’m firmly aware that the human mind can probably convince itself of anything given enough effort and lack of concrete, irresolute evidence (…well, in many cases it still can despite cold hard facts but I don’t want to get into politics yet), there are just some things about Jikook that fit together really nicely. Almost like puzzle pieces. Something that I think the other ships may lack in comparison, if only mildly.

To diverge, a lot of us are enraptured by this “soulmates” theory when it comes to jikook (myself included), because they have so much in common and a lot of times, it really does seem they’re a “match made in heaven”. And it didn’t really help when we recently discovered that Jungkook himself is kind of a romantic, and wishes for a “destined love” himself as mentioned in that recent show they were on. It really gets you thinking…is he really, truly unaware of the uncanny “coincidences” between himself and Jimin?

And their actions kind of imply it too. Kookmin World recently posted a video in regards to their last Puma fansigning, where Jungkook was wearing matching bandaids with Jimin for no particular reason, in reference to a music video about soulmates and such. And again we have this example where the puzzle pieces fit.

Which is why I think some of us have gone nuts over jikook recently. More than I have ever seen since I officially joined this fandom last summer. The “evidence” is just stacking up for some reason, and more and more people seem to be convinced of the possibility that a romantic love could exist between them…? I think it’s gotten a lot more heated recently because of this, I’ve even heard of someone getting blocked for merely questioning evidence, which is beyond ridiculous to me (what some of us have to realize is that: we’re not reporters. Or journalists. Not even close.)

That being said, I still think this should just be fun, and I think most of us are just intrigued by the idea of two undoubtedly attractive men uh catering to each other. Which is nice. Realistic? Well, what are the chances?

What about me then? Someone who has a blog centred around the idea of them being romantically involved and only them? Well again, it’s a nice idea, and their dynamics make for a lot of good stories. And that’s all it is for now, until further proven. That being said, there’s nothing wrong with compiling all this “evidence” in your mind, simply because it exists.

And I say this again and again but, no matter what, they’d probably end up together. Perhaps not in this life but maybe the next one ;)

Here’s a sneak preview of chapter thirty-two:

Not Entirely Clueless

Sherlock Holmes, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and a gay disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; yet he had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to interest or intrigue him. And then the murders began.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“I know how highly you think of Sally Donovan,” said Sherlock. A mixture of alarm and delicacy made him irresolute as to what else to say.

“Yes,” Captain Watson replied, “anybody may know how highly I think of her.”

“And yet,” said Sherlock, beginning hastily and with an arch look, but soon stopping — it was better, however, to know the worst at once, so he hurried on — “And yet, perhaps, you may hardly be aware yourself how highly it is. The extent of your admiration may take you by surprise some day or other.”


Tags under the cut — please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you

Keep reading