#clarafarleybarrow

[evangelineartemiasamos]

@clarafarleybarrow Bernice, she means you <3

[inopinion]

Writing prompt #81 (Red Queen, Marecal) 😉

THIS PROMPT POST: https://tmblr.co/Z4SL-n2VBtCaQ

81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?”

I just couldn’t write a typical Marecal scene. I wasn’t in the mood and I didn’t want to pour a drink. So... sorry if this isn’t quite what you were hoping for, and I’ll try to make you something later to make up for it.

Marecal Shippers on my dash feeling a bit down... Maybe don’t read this... Like... just... later, read it later... 

If you do read it and you like it, reblog it. :)

@lilyharvord, @mareshmallow, @adraxsteia, @anyone-anything-canbetrayanyone, @runexandra, @redqueenfandom, @iris-cygnets, @mom2reesie, @wrenskonos

Everyday, no matter what, without fail, and all those cliches about the enduring resilience and the persistence of man to conquer everything can be applied to the son-of-a-bitch at my door. I, one without even a meager helping of stalwart values, roll over and bury myself under the covers. Scratch that... I am incredibly dedicated to sleeping, warmth, and the cozy heat of a cuddle. But in this balance between do-everything and do-nothing, I will not be allowed to stay under my covers without doing something and thus joining the do-everything in our daily run.

Also consistent, we don’t run together. We start together. I manage for a bit, and then I just watch his shoulders get smaller and smaller in front of me until my lazy descent into walking can’t be noticed. Then the day starts getting pleasant, if not exactly enjoyable. I can stride along as day breaks and hear the birds begin to whistle up in the bows of the trees. It’s me, my aching legs, my burning lungs, and the natural beauty of the woods around our compound. Even that serene span comes crashing down at the hands of my only friend. And I use the term friend looser each time he crashes back through the undergrowth to prod me along at a better pace.

“Why must we do this everyday, Calore?” There’s a wine that’s unintentional but still well practiced.

It’s my job to pick the script for the morning, one of the only real choices I have is what I say. There’s six versions of this conversation and it all starts based on my choice. Today, I don’t feel in good enough humor to use sarcasm or to banter. I just pick the truth, “Because, you make me.”

“Let’s put that to the side. It’s good for you. It’s good for me. That body is just wasting away, you know?”

“Ah yes, a reminder. Exactly what I need,” I let a little of the sarcasm out. I try not to think of what my body looks like.

I can almost mime exactly what he will always say next, it’s what makes me question myself more and more. Are there only six conversations because I’m unimaginative or because he’s damaged me so much that my brain fills in for him in his absence? Does he even have to do this to me anymore or am I crazy enough to just do it for him, make it all up without him? 

“We could be anywhere, but you’re the one that chooses to be here. Why here?” The same question almost everyday. I flip through my three responses, wondering why I care to think about options at all, but then the script changes, he adds, “Why not here?”

Smooth as a dream, the base builds around me. The trees fall away and the clouds bloom around us. He’s picking through my brain and reconstructing details I would never be able to recall on my own. He watches me, head tilted, a small smile on his face. He waits for me to react, to note that the storm on the horizon is the storm. The grove of trees ahead and the muddied trail to it is the grove. I’ve already noticed, I just won’t satisfy his thirst with outward recognition.

He used to be so attentive in how he exacted his tortures. He’d pull me into the thrown room and put the sword back in my hands. He’d give me back the day before, the garden parties, hearing my father’s praise. He’d give me back my brother and his sheepish grin over the chess pieces just before he declared he’d won. He’d give it all back and then walk me moment by moment through the betrayals. The deaths. The surrender. I know he tried to do it with her, but I’d blocked him. Something about her, or more so, something about me when it comes to her, has always locked him away from relieving all the wonderful things and that one thing, that one horrible thing... until now.

He runs. I trot. I feel my legs moving and it’s startling how I’ve forgotten how little control I have here. How everything I get to decide is because he lets me decide, and right now, he’s not letting me run the other way. He may not know what is so important about this place, but he’s been dying to find out.

The thunder rumbles and echos of her voice shout out at me from the fence. 

“That’s not me.” 

Her laugh is sunshine reflecting through everything and heating my skin to temperatures I can’t remember. Her smile is an aphrodisiac that ignites something primal in me. I have guarded her from him for so long, never thinking about her, blocking those memories, thinking about horrifying things instead. I’ve protected this for so long. But in doing so, I haven’t heard that sound in what seems like a lifetime. I indulge.

“That’s just weather. Sometimes, when it--”

He’s listening, he’s hearing, he’s giddy and giggling at his discovery and I can’t even allow myself to wallow in the lump of warm pain her voice brings to my chest. I cut her off. I stash her away. I let the rain fall. He pushes. I block. He screams. I break. He backs off. He does the equivalent of a retreat. He pretends it never happens, his face falls back into a playful smile. 

“What’s the matter Calore, aren’t you gonna show me around?” He jabs, tugging at my arm. He could make me run, again. He tickles at my nerves and I feel the beginning of a movement, but he backs off. 

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” He jeers at me.

It’s true. I do want to. I want to feel the rain and her skin and the heat and the touch of something and assure myself that it really happened. Just the idea gives him purchase and his cold, slippery hands pry into my mind. But no. He can’t have her. He can’t have us. He can’t have the real meaning behind the rain, the mud; this place was ours.

I focus. I think. I use his hands in my mind as an opening, and I rebuild the forests around Archeon, the castle walls, the barracks, the bridge, the smell of bread in the kitchen. I rebuild it and I run.

If you’re at all confused... whispers didn’t die with Elara, and not all of them are brutes like Samson.

[carstairsjames]

Hey there, Lari. I'm so sorry you had to go through that bullshit. I feel so terribly bad that a fellow Marecal shipper would do something like that to a very nice person like you. As you know, I've been through the same thing, so I know the feeling. But please don't let it affect you so much. You are awesome for who and what you are, so please continue spreading and sharing that awesomeness. Know that I'm always here if you need someone to talk to. Sending all my love. Xx

Aww thank you, Bernice! And yeah, we are kinda the attecked ones around here, right? But anyway, I’m sorry you had to go through that too. It’s not the first time people attack me in here and that makes me sad, but you know, there are some amazing people (like you) in here and that makes me happy and it makes me feel not so lost in here. 

Thank you for always supporting me and being there for me. You are such a gerat person and I also hope you don’t let this hate affect you too much. And same! Whenever you need/want to talk, I’m here for you!

Obs.: sorry for the late answer!

[hushedhands]

I need part 2 of that May x Ryland writing challenge!!! They are so adorable together!

Okay, here it comes. 

[evangelineartemiasamos]

49, 53, 57 (get to know me, pick some numbers.)

where i want to be right now

It’s okay where I am, the sun is shining.

5 things that make me happy

Dawn. Dusk. Pasta with mushrooms. Sunshine. Code Geass Jubilee Week.

favourite animal(s)

Cats. Whatever is cute. Wolves probably. Kangaroos in reference to Marc-Uwe Kling.

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Farley and Clara (of course), 1, 3, 11 (Send me a character and a number for a headcanon)

Holiday headcanon

Do you mean travelling? I imagine Clara has some fond and faint memories from Piedmont and asks to go there sometimes and Farley tries to talk her out of it. Maybe they are travelling often because of Farley’s job. She reminds Clara how much she travelled even before she was born because she thinks it’s quite funny.Everything else depends on where they live. I assume everyone lives a little apart from one another, but Farley and Clara are the ones most frequently visiting their family members. And friends, because of course Farley has friends to rely on. And she is still bickering with the colonel and encourages Clara to tease him as well.

As for legal holidays, I guess Farley has some official functions to perfom and she makes deals to spent half of them with her daughter or brings her along. IDK what holidays they’d have and what connotations are there, so maybe they’d spent them with other family members. But I can imagine they like to be just the two of them of as well.

Sleeping headcanon

I’m still wondering if Farley breastfeeds her. On the hand, I’d say of course, on the other hand I wonder if it wasn’t comfortable with the physical activity she perfoms soon after the birth. AFAIK, when babies are (breast)fed, they just tend to fall asleep at some point. If Farley has an office, she has a spare cot there as Clara gets bigger.

After Clara starts to have regular sleeping times, Farley always reads her good night stories. Read, not tell, because she sucks at making them up. She thinks it’s necessary for Clara to learn speaking and at times, she doesn’t care if there are actual stories because books can be difficult to get and thus, Farley might pick up some papers from work instead.

Clara has her own bed, but not a cradle. Sometimes Farley has the need to check on her in her sleep because ever parent is a little paranoid (and before she was born, it was always a relief to feel Clara moving for the first time each day). They love cuddling. Clara sleeps in her mum’s room until she’s about two or three. That doesn’t stop her from sneaking into Farley’s bed at night quite often. That’s about the time Clara starts to ask for stories actively, like about her dad. Farley would be ready to oblige, but she thinks it is a little wasted to tell Clara in those moments between waking and sleeping.

Farley isn’t a sleepy person at all, but only because she knows when to have a power-nap. The need for these increased after she becamne pregnant. Clara is sleepy, but she knows when to go to bed (not a night person at all). She’ll start to pick up Mum’s discipline at some point, but Farley doesn’t push her as she is obedient when it comes to bed times. As I said, they have some rituals about it.

Now you might ask, “but what if Farley has a date with someone, Regina?” Well, depends on the date. If they started dating when Clara was still an infant, the kid spent the night somewhere else and grew up knowing about Mum’s love interest. If Clara was older, they would have to get to know each other first. Either way, Farley would organize these occasions precisely so both her love life and her motherhood can coexist.

Wardrobe headcanon

First of all, as I think this should be obvious, Gisa made baby clothes for Clara. Otherwise:

Farley: “I tried my best to convince my daughter that she doesn’t have to wear pink dresses just because she is a girl, but if she really likes it, who am I to deny her?”

Clara’a colours are green, yellow and pink/fuchsia. She likes dresses and skirts and jackets/layers, Especially when she’s little. Farley lets Clara have this talks with Gisa and just listens though she teases Clara about getting the pretty things dirty sometimes. But not often, because girls are allowed to get dirty ;-) As I HC that she will grow as tall as her mum, Clara needs new clothes quite often and Gisa likes the challenge though later on, they don’t meet that frequently.

Clara doesn’t like sport clothing and insists she can train just as well in regular clothes and dresses too. And she does.

The less Farley fuzzes about Clara’s clothing, the more she fuzzes about her curly hair. She shoves it behind her ears like ten times a day and brushing is a ritual. Farley gives her her gold chain at some point and demands her to take care of it.

Farley dislikes formal attire. She’s proud of her (dress) uniform and such but it’s only because of the respect while she hates wearing it. She finds formal clothing uncomfortable. Thus she dresses casually, yet she does pay attention to appearances and tries not to dress sloppily. She doesn’t hate dresses but they just aren’t her thing.

Ask me for headcanons

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Hi. This is about the twitter troll who keeps harassing Victoria. I thought you should know. Actually, there was a prior incident to that one. That psycho twitter troll first created an account "@PunchVictoria" just to HARASS and THREATEN Victoria. He/She was mad because Victoria "endorsed" HRC in her book (remember the epigraph?). That psycho also said almost the same thing, saying that he/she would punch Victoria if she ever dropped by the Barnes & Nobles where said psycho was working at (1/3)

and also used “before and after” photos. It was so malicious in every angle that Victoria asked help from her followers to report the account. I did. Others helped too until the account was deleted. Apparently, the troll created another account, which was “@KickVictoriaA” because he/she had no more important thing to do in life than to cyber bully and threaten an author for her political beliefs. It was really sick, and now the troll even included Victoria’s book characters, thus tainting 2/3            

the image of the RED QUEEN fandom. I sent the same message to @lilyharvord just to let you guys know. 3/3        

https://chaoslaborantin.tumblr.com/post/161272019543/your-favorite-authors-are-being-threatened

I’m quite shocked to see such brutal threats against several authors and I hope they’ll find personal help and support. My best wishes to all of them.

I think we as fandom members should try to reevaluate our demands as well and should do our best to remain polite and supportive. No one should be tempted to use the anonymity of the internet to spread violent threats.

[hushedhands]

The “tooth fairy” fanfic is amazing! Well, honestly, YOU are amazing! ;) Now I wonder what made America and Maxon decide to have Lief and Rosie... Will you be writing that, too? ;)

So this prompt has been in my box since August, and I’ve finally written you the whole story 😁😘