you could be my boyfriend of 85 years or my husband of 586778 years or my favourite teacher or my most beloved mentor but if you are a man and you yell at me or raise your voice at me i can 100% guarantee our relationship will never be the same ever again there is something so treacherous about men who needlessly raise their voice
Sit down, witches young and old. I have a story to share.
So, in late Summer 2014, I was held at gunpoint and my car was stolen. Without going into too much detail, I was out at night running errands and two masked men cornered me in the parking lot of my apartment complex. (The Mister was not with me at the time; he was in the apartment.) In the trunk of my car was my witchy box, which contained ALL of my most important craft materials including my book of shadows, my tarot, and my most beloved trinkets. (I had taken it on a witchy retreat the weekend before.)
When they stole my car, they used it in a bank robbery and then ditched the vehicle after use. I was DEVASTATED. I couldn’t sleep or eat for days (trauma can be an absolute bitch); I was terrified to go out on my own, even on our porch. I lost my job because I no longer had a means of transportation. And to top it off, I ended up having a miscarriage around the same time.
Guys and gals, I went to a very dark place after this. The police, as helpful as they were, told me that the likelihood of finding the vehicle was slim-to-none. In fact, it is common in most places (and especially my state) that stolen vehicles are dumped in rivers or ravines, never to be found again. What made matters worse was that I had JUST PAID THE CAR OFF and SWITCHED MY INSURANCE TO LIABILITY ONLY. (For you bebes out there that don’t know, this means that your insurance company won’t replace the car if it is stolen.)
For months, I tried to dig myself out of this hole, but I felt like I couldn’t really connect with my craft because I was missing important elements to my spellwork. Some of the things in that box were passed down for generations in my family. They were absolutely priceless. I felt so…lost.
The following May, I was visiting Tulum, Mexico. A tropical storm was brewing off the shoreline and everyone else was drunk at one of the all-inclusive bar. I watched from my balcony as surfers took to the turbulent waves and something came over me. I felt a literal pull in my chest. Something kept telling me to go to the water.
My family, friends, and the Mister all told me I was crazy when I went to the beach. There was thunder, the waves were insanely high, and even the experienced surfers were having trouble. On the lifeguard stands, black flags were posted (one of the signs that swimming is absolutely ill-advised) and for even an experienced competitive swimmer (that’s me!), it would be dangerous. But something told me to get into the water.
Nothing could have prepared me for the power of the ocean. It pulled me when I resisted; it dragged against every limb and I became frightened. But instead of thinking about the fact that I could possibly drown, I kept replaying those guys and their guns pointed at me, one shoved into my forehead. I became angry; I kicked harder, pushed myself further until I felt the sand at my toes again.
I was crying and so angry. I stood still in the water and called out into the wind. I beat my fists against the surface of the sea (I probably looked insane, but no one was out there) and felt all of my pain seep away. I begged the water for one thing: even if the car didn’t run, could my precious things be returned to me. I bartered with the sea.
The sea giveth and the sea taketh away, as they say. All of the hurt and terror and anguish I had felt over the previous year disappeared. I was embraced by the water and somewhere so very deep inside me, I knew everything would be okay. There was finally a sense of calm and clarity inside me, replacing the tumultuous emotions I had been feeling.
The morning we left, after the storms had passed, I went back to that secluded part of the beach and promised that I would dedicate my life to helping witches around me. I had never made a promise like that in my life.
A month after that, the state police found my car. It wasn’t in working condition at all, but everything remained intact in the trunk. They brought it to my parents’ house and I rushed outside. I sobbed when my dad opened the trunk and saw the box waiting, looking the exact same way it did the night the car was stolen. Everything was in it, untouched by the elements. (Eventually, I repaired the car enough for it to run another two-and-half-years, too!)
Magic is real. Against impossible odds, there is power in every wish and desire. I will never regret the promise I made that day. I will never take for granted the gifts that have been given to me. And when people scoff when I say that I am a witch, I inwardly smile and know that my magic is true and real. I have all the proof I need.
.I present to you, my most beloved AU: Yuri on Ice Cream
Viktor is totally a fuckboi look at that adidas shirt.
Anywayyy, Yuuri along with Phichit work at HASETSU Homemade Ice Cream mofos. Yuuri still skates but never went professional cause anxiety, but he’s still a superb dancer. Phichit is the ultimate wingman.
Viktor and Yuri(o) go on a lil roadtrip across Japan in between seasons, and go do touristy shit. Yurio pretends to hate it, but loves being so relaxed for once. While they’re walking through a little tourist district they encounter cute salesperson Yuuri trying to sell ice cream to the few tourists who come by.
Of course here’s where the two nerds meet and there’s a whole lotta romantic comedy hallmark-worthy bullshit later.
Can you sell me on the Throne of Glass series? Cause your art makes it look like a phenomenal story but every time I look it up I see bad reviews, mostly criticizing the main character. Something about how she acts spoiled rather than a hardened assassin. Or that she's too boy crazy? I figured I'd get the scoop from a fan of the series I trust. Also it goes without saying your art is crazy good and got me looking up throne of glass to begin with!
Well. GOSH! Let me see what I can do here.
(I try not to get too wrapped up in reviews before I read a book. Some of my most beloved books will still get trash reviews (along with all the excellent ones) and it’s funny how we always find ourselves focusing on the bad ones?)
I guess I’m just saying try not to let that taint your opinion before you even start!
Straight off the bat: I fricken LOVE Throne of Glass, clearly.
I wouldn’t say Celaena is spoiled (she earns her keep and spends it on whatever she likes god damn it)… although, she is absolutely aloof, outlandish, full of bravado and swag™
I once read a super great comment saying that if Celaena were a man, no one would bat at an eye at her cocky attitude. I personally find that refreshing as fuck. I think if you immediately dislike her upon starting the series… it probably won’t end well, but maybe give her a chance? She’s no wallflower.
I can never recommend this series without saying: keep reading. Keep reeeeeeeeading! Sarah started this series when she was SO young… and the story matures and matures as you work your way through the books, and eventually, you get to see underneath a lot of the bravado.
Whenever I re-read this series I always start again from book 3: Heir of Fire. The first two books are really good fun, but I don’t think you get to the meat of who Celaena really is (hi everyone who’s read it, hi!) until this book. Heir of Fire is my favourite in the series (so closely followed by Queen of Shadows). It’s one of the most cathartic books I’ve ever read and I re-read it at any opportunity. I AM ALL ABOUT THE HEALING BOOKS, OKAY. I enjoyed the series, but didn’t fall head over heels for it until book 3.
Oh. And she’s not boy crazy, not to me. I think some readers literally cannot handle a pro tag moving on from their ship, that’s all. It’s something that comes up often with Throne of Glass but honestly, I love Sarah all the more for that. Give me all those protags doing what’s right for them!