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imasimpforshanks · 4 years

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Love Languages - Straw Hats

Luffy:

• What he needs/responds best to:

I think Luffy would really need to receive gifts. The types of gifts that carry a lot of meaning and are sentimental. We've seen how he treats the Srraw Hat he was gifted by Shanks - he keeps it on him at all times, does everything in his power to make sure it doesn't go missing. Yes, the hat is part of a promise they made, but that's the whole point. That gift from Shanks inspired luffy and continues to inspire luffy. Another example is the water he receives from Toto in Alabasta. It's an important gift, something the old man worked hard to get, so to Luffy he knows and understands the effort and meaning behind it and for that he treats it carefully. That is why I believe Luffy would adore sentimental gifts like that from his significant other. It shows the thought, the energy, and the care you have for him. It's a great way to show him your love. Also, if he were to receive meat as a gift.... well lmao we already know how that would go down.

• What he gives:

There's not really any need to explain this, but Lufy gives acts of service. Luffy is for the most part, pretty selfless. He constantly helps people he just met, for absolutely nothing in return. Sometimes they don't even say anything, he just already acts. This would be how he expresses his love for you. He'd randomly share his food with you (this would be a big one), he'd ask what you want or need done and as soon as you tell him he'd go off and do it. That's just how he is.

Zoro:

• What he needs/responds best to:

Zoro is very focused on his goals. He has his daily routine - sleep, train, eat, train, drink, train, repeat. Training is such a significant part of Zoros life, it's almost nonnegotiable. We've seen him train immediately after incurring an injury, without rest or recovery. Therefore, quality time would be very important for Zoro. In particular, I think Zoro would feel most love and cared for with a partner who understands his desire and need to constantly train, and rather than telling him to stop and spend time together, they join him in his training sessions. For Zoro that is quality time. The same can be said with the other points in his routine. A significant other who spends quality time with him through drinking, eating, sleeping and training would make him feel so understood and⅕ loved. I feel like acts of service kind of go hand-in-hand with quality time for Zoro. You know Zoros routine, what he does, and so doing little things throughout the day to make it easier for him to stick to that routine and maximize his energy for training, I believe, is a good way to make the swordsman feel loved. Preparing his favourite drink (if you are on the ship, or buying his favourite drink the next time you are on land), offering him a sparring buddy. Those sorts of acts of service will really make him feel appreciated.

• What he gives:

Zoro is more of a doer rather than a talker, and while he may be an idiot (especially with directions), hes not stupid. He has a good sense of the needs and states of his crew members. Because of this, Zoros love language is most definitely acts of service, he would view the situation, gauge your current state and act accordingly without being told what you needed. He'd just know.

Sanji:

• What he needs/responds best to:

To be fair Sanji would probably respond well to any of the types of love languages LMAO, but, I personally think he'd respond best to physical touch and quality time. Sanji is a SIIIIIMP (I love the man, bless his horny little heart). Anytime a woman is even in the vicinity he gets a nosebleed and gets all love-crazy. Imagine what hes like when a girl actually touches him. Actually... we see what hes like in Dressrosa with Violet. He blushes, swoons and everything in between when she holds his hand or touches him. So making physical affection towards Sanji is definitely the best way to show him you love him. Also, I believe quality time would be a big one for Sanji. Going with him to get the groceries for the ship, spending time with while he cooks. Showing interest in his passion would without a doubt make Sanji feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He loves cooking for others, so to have his partner reciprocate that interest and share that passion with him would mean the world to the chef.

• What he gives

Like Luffy, the love languages Sanji gives are pretty self explanatory. Sanji would show his love through acts of service and words of affirmation. We already see him do this to an extent throughout the series for Nami and Robin. Sanji will make your favourite meal, your favourite drink, anything you want. He is extremely chivalrous amd takes pride in treating women correctly, so you best believe he will do everything for you so you dont have to lift a finger. He would also compliment you daily, encourage you and listen to whatever you have to say. We've seen him do this numerous times. He loves to let women know how beautiful, strong, and amazing they are.

Usopp:

• What he needs/responds best to:

This guys is so anxious and insecure. He constantly fixates on how he's weak and unworthy to be a member of the Straw Hats. It's likely that these thoughts and feelings would manifest in a relationship with him too. Therefore, Usopp is a person in desperate need of words of affirmation. He would absolutely thrive if you were to encourage, reassure and compliment him. Remind him that he is in fact a brave warrior of the sea, one you admire very much. I also just can't stop thinking that Usopp would respond really well to quality time with his partner. If his partner would just sit and listen intently to his stories (some true, some exaggerated and some entirely false) regardless if they've heard them before or not. It would make him feel so appreciated.

• What he gives:

There's not a doubt in my mind that Sogeking would show his love through words of affirmation and quality time. He knows how it feels to be anxious and insecure. To ensure you dint ever feel that way he would be constantly complimenting you, speaking words of encouragement and listening to whatever doubts you had and then instantly reminding you that you are in fact bad af and should never doubt yourself. Again, Usopp would spent so much quality time with you telling you an assortment of stories to make you smile, cry, and laugh.

Nami:

• What she needs/responds best to:

Is it a surprise that the beautiful navigator would respond best to receiving gifts? No, not at all. She's known for her love of treasure and money, AND, she epreally enjoys shopping any chance she gets. So, it's safe to say any sort of gift is a great way to make Nami feel loved. But, she wouldn't just appreciate big expensive, or really materialistic gifts, she would also respond really well to small, sentimental gifts too. She was gifted a bracelet from her sister (we see the flashback scene in Strong World). Its a really important and precious gift to her, that she wears at all times. So, receiving a gift of any kind would mean the world to Nami.

• What she gives:

Giving gifts would be Namis main love language. She's in charge of all the finances and treasure in the Straw Hats, so we see how cautious she can be with money. Therefore, if Nami were to use that treasure for a gift for her significant other, it's a really big sign, it's a giant communication of love! There is no way in hell she'd do that for just anyone. This is actually shown in the Sabaody Archipelago arc when Camie is being auctioned off and Nami says that they can use all their treasure and money to try and get her back. If Nami truly cares for someone, she'll show it through gift giving.

Chopper:

• What he needs/responds best to:

Again, Choppers is relatively self explanatory. This boy thrives when he receives compliments of any kind. So, words of affirmation are undoubtedly the love language he responds best to. There's really not much else to say about it.

• What he gives

Chopper really enjoys spending time with the crew, he's been shown to enjoy playing games with Robin, fishing off the Sunny, and goofing off with Luffy and Usoop. So, quality time is the primary way Chopper shows his love. He enjoys spending time doing anything with those he cares about, so his significant other would be no different.

Robin:

• What she needs/responds best to:

Robin has had a rough life, she may not have always been alone, but she really was alone for most of her life. She couldn't trust anyone, could 't get close to anyone, but now that she's found that person, spending quality time with them is going to be very important for her. She would really need her significant other to just be near her, even if it's in silence while she's studying, or allowing her to talk about her research. As long as the person she loves spends some quality time with her, Robin will be happy.

• What she gives

She's the intellectual of the crew. She can read people and is really good with her words. That's why I think words of affirmation are what she'll give to her partner. We've seen her calm down, reassure, and encourage some if the anxious bunch on the crew, so there's no doubt that she always knows the right thing to say.

Franky

• What he needs/responds best to:

I believe words of affirmation to be the love language Franky responds the best to. Being told how cool, strong, creative, and super he is would do wonders. You can actually see this in the way he responds to Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's reactions to all his creations. When they go on and on spouting compliments, with every "oooh" and "ahhh" Franky gets motivated, more lively, it makes him feel great. So it stand to reason that words of affirmation is the best love language for Franky.

• What he gives

Franky is very hands on. He is a shipwright afterall. This cyborg undoubtedly shows love through acts of service. He'll make and do anything you need him to, sometimes even anticipating your future needs and having things prepared in advance. I also be,ieve receiving gifts goes hand-in-hand with Franky. He'd use his creative mind and skills to make you some outrageously super gift that you can use in battle alongside him.

Brook

• What he needs/responds best to

This poor guy spent most of his life alone, having lost all of his crew. So, Brook would require both quality time and physical touch. Physical touch would be a great reassurance, little touches here and there - physical affection - is a reminder to him that he is no longer alone. The same can be said about quality time. Doing anything in the presence of his partner is soothing to him, it removes any lingering reminders of loneliness.

• What he gives

Brook hands down shows love through acts of service. This man would learn all of your favourite songs and play them for you when he senses you're feeling a little off. That's just what he does. He's been shown to do that with the crew already, if it's too quiet, a lot of tension, or he feels the situation calls for it, he cracks a joke or plays some music for the crew. He would do the exact same for you.

Jinbei

• What he needs/responds best to:

Not gonna lie, i dont know if I have he greatest grasp on Jinbei as a character yet, so I'm not 100% sure what love language he would respond best to. However, I am leaning more towards acts of service. I just feel as though there's no better way to make Jinbei feel loved other than going out of your way to alleviate the stress in his life, even if that means talking sense into the straw hats so he doesn't have to (LMAOOOOO).

• What he gives

Like Robin, I believe Jinbei to be really good with his words making words of affirmation to be a love language he uses. He's been seen a few times trying to talk sense into Luffy, and because of this, I feel as though he'd be really good at encouraging, complimenting, and empathizing with his partner. Also, Jinbei is good at analyzing a situation, seeing what needs to be done and then doing it. It happened many times in Marineford (and I think in whole cake island). Acts of service is likely to be another love language he would use for his significant other.

#one piece #straw hats #straw hat pirates #mugiwara no luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #cat burglar nami #god usopp #tony tony chopper #nico robin #cyborg franky #soul king brook #jinbei #love languages #one piece headcanons

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somarsword · 4 years

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Sleep on the Floor - Part 3

ROGER TAYLOR X READER

Hi!! Hello again. Okay, first of all I am so so sorry for how long it took me to upload part 3. There's several reasons for that, a few being 1.) I've been pretty busy on school works, 2.) I'm an undecided bitch, and 3.) I have no idea which direction I want to steer this story towards. I've written this part like at least 4 times. Anyways, sorry for the delay. (Ps. I'm uploading on my phone so I'm sorry there's no cut and it appears as one long ass post. I'll probs edit this soon though to be under a cut)

I hope you enjoy the read!

picture uploaded by "wattpad" on pinterest (link https://pin.it/5NtW4Fg)

WARNING: blood, mentions of abuse (well the damage), cursing?

word count: 1.7k words

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 9, 1976 - (𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨) 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐭

An hour after your conversation Freddie heads back to bed, leaving you to your own thoughts. Which definitely was not ideal. There was too much to think of, so much you wanted to just ignore.

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑌/𝑛? 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑒.

Breathing in deeply you head towards the front. There was only one person still up, possibly he could answer where the hell all of you were headed.

"Hi" you say softly as you peak through the curtains which separated the driver's area from the rest of the vehicle. The man's head whips towards you, slightly startled, before quickly training his eyes back on the road.

"Uh... hey?" his greeting comes out as more confused than welcoming. His eyes fleet back to you, his expression quite comical. It was as if he were making sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Mind if I sit up here with you?" you question him. He nods before looking at the road once more. You both seat silently for a few minutes, awkwardness filling the air. You clear your throat.

"Uh, I was wondering actually if you could answer my question" you say.

"I mean sure I guess, can't promise I've got the answer for that though" He replies

"Well I surely hope you can, you are driving us there after all." you tell him, this causes him to laugh

"Oh, if your question is where we're going, it's Detroit" he tells you, a smile still plastered on his face. You nod, murmuring out a short thanks, ready to head back.

Before you can stand, however, he speaks up.

"If you don't mind me asking, who exactly are you?" there's no ill-intent behind his voice, rather it's just filled with curiousity.

"Oh um... I'm not so sure yet. I think I'm the financer though" you tell him. Amused, he shakes his head and laughs

"Girlie, you get more and more interesting." He says, laughing heartily. This causes you to smile as well.

"Well, I try" you shrug but can't suppress the giggle that erupts from you.

"I'm Y/n by the way" you say, finally introducing yourself properly.

"Bill" he says nodding.

••• -•- •• •--•

By the time you reach Detroit, you and Bill have shared a year's worth of stories. Each story shared wasn't really important, more of small snippets of each of your lives. Like the time you tripped and spilt the contents of your bag on the road, or the time Bill thought he ran over a cat, only for it to be an old sock.

You nearly forget the fact that you had a giant gash on your stomach until Bill suddenly steps on the breaks as he parks, sending you flying forward and causing the seatbelt strap to push against it.

"Oh shit, sorry" Bill apologizes quickly.

You hiss loudly, slouching over as you see black spots dance around your vision. At this, he looks over at you worriedly.

"Hey, you okay?" his attention is divided between you and parking the bus. You wave one hand dismissively but you can feel the wound throb painfully.

𝑆ℎ𝑖𝑡. 𝐼𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑?

You feel your shirt begin to dampen, the crimson red liquid seeping through the piece of cloth.

Switching the engine off, he turns towards you. His eyes quickly widening at the sight.

"Holy fuck. You're bleeding! Shit. Wait, uh-" he frantically unbuckles both of your seatbelts before careening you towards a van parked adjacent to the bus. He yanks the van door open, causing the person inside to groan and cover their eyes.

"Tom. Tom get up" Bill's voice getting increasingly agitated. Tom groans, rolling over to his side.

"Bill it's too early, I'm not in the mood. Please let me rest." At this Bill huffs and shakes the sleeping man.

"Bitch, get up. I'm not looking for morning sex. This girl's bleeding out, get up." This causes the sleeping figure to quickly shoot up, reaching one arm behind him in search for (what you can only assume to be) his medkit.

"Fucking hell. Maybe say that first next time?" he mumbles grumpily. Bill helps you unto the van, hoisting you up.

"Can you lift up your shirt?" Tom asks gently, holding out a dampened cloth. Deliriously, you yank it up.

You hear them both mutter curses under their breath as they see the damage. Neither asks what happened as Tom aids you, but you're sure they've got ideas.

After nearly 20 minutes of excruciating pain as Tom stitched up your gash, you hear the tour bus doors open once more. You're not sure who it is as your eyes are closed but you know that you're in perfect view of whoever steps out the bus; and soon enough you hear hasty footsteps approaching.

"Bleeding Christ, what the hell happened to her?" You hear the unmistakable sound of Roger's raspy voice. You hear no response from the other two.

You force your eyes open. This immediately catches Roger's attention.

"You alright there love?" He asks gently.

Moving towards the exit, you dangle you legs out limply.

"I'm fine" you murmur out, attempting to stand up. This only results in you collapsing. Roger catches you before you hit the ground.

"Mhm, sure seems like it" he comments. "C'mon, let's get you rested"

Too weak to protest, you nod. You hear him say a quick thanks to Tom.

Bill assists Roger in holding you up as you allow them to guide you back to the bus. Once inside you expect to be set on the couch, but they head directly to the back, laying you down on Roger's bed. Bill excuses himself, checking on you one last time before leaving.

Almost immediately your eyes shut from exhaustion, but you remain awake for a while, listening to the hushed voices.

They must've woken up from the commotion of Bill and Roger dragging you into the room as the first thing you hear from them is complains on Roger to keep it the 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 down, but the tone is quickly replaced by concern once their gaze lands on you

𝑌𝑒𝑎ℎ, 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑡, 𝐼'𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑜.

••• -•- •• •--•

Drowsily, you lift yourself up. Confused by your surroundings.

"Oh hey! You're up." their bassist says, quickly rushing to your side holding a bottle of water out. You grab it gratefully, chugging down the contents.

Once finished, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, turning towards the man sat on the bed across you.

"Thanks..." you begin, but trail off as you try to recall his name. He just chuckles, his eyes wrinkling at the sides.

"John. -or Deaky. Whichever you prefer" he says. You nod gratefully.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands.

"Around 3:30pm. The rest just headed out to get food, they'll be back in a few" he explains as you look around at the empty beds. You nod.

Standing, he offers an outstretched hand for you to take. You stare up at him in confusion.

"Well I'm assuming you'd rather not spend all day trapped inside. We can wait for them outside. There's a table and a few chairs set up" Reluctantly you take his hand and he pulls you up.

Feeling a lot better, you follow after him, refusing his offer of helping you.

"Do you know how to play any card games?" he asks as you both take a seat outside.

"A few? Poker, Rummy, Black Jack" You list. He nods and shuffles the deck.

"Let's go rummy" he says as he distributes the cards.

It's silent for the first few rounds, a few side comments said, but not much more.

"He's an idiot" Deaky suddenly blurts out suddenly causing you to look at him in confusion.

"Who?" you ask him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Your fiancé" he says matter-of-factly. This catches you off guard. You stare at him, eyes wide.

"I- He- What do you- How'd you know?" you sputter out. He shrugs.

"You're the girl from the Ritz right?"

𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡?

You nod solemnly.

"So I'm guessing you all know about-" you gesture towards your stomach which was shielded by your bloody shirt. He nods. You sigh, thinking of how to explain it all properly.

Deaky notices your distress and sets his cards down before turning all his attention on you.

"Don't worry about it. We won't ask. You don't have to tell us anything" Sincerity oozing from his voice. You give him a small, grateful smile.

"It's ex fiancé, by the way" You clarify.

Just as you both start another round, the others arrive, holding bags of food and... shopping bags?

"Ah! Glad to see you up lovie" Freddie says, pulling you into a hug. You giggle and hug him back.

"Here, we got you some pancakes and sausage." Brian says as he sets a small takeout box in front of you. "It may not be breakfast anymore, but pancakes are delicious at all hours of the day" Freddie comments , causing you to smile and shake your head at the singer's energy.

Roger approaches you, handing you a small shopping bag. You look towards it then up at him.

"What's this?" you ask him, confused.

"Just thought you might want some change of clothes. You only packed an extra jacket and a few pants so I got you a few shirts." he says scratching the back of his neck. Before you can respond he quickly add, "Sorry for going through your bag, I was looking for something for you to change into a while back"

"It's fine. Thanks Roger" You beam at him, happily grabbing a shirt and excusing yourself to change inside the bus.

Once done, you emerge from the bus to find all four boys and Jim seated around the table, eating their meals. You take a seat next to Jim.

"Sorry about not being able to help out this morning. I can-" you begin to explain but he holds his hand up to cut you off.

"Don't worry about it. You can start later." he says, smiling gently. You nod appreciatively before opening the takeaway box and digging in.

#roger taylor #queen #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fanfic #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben!roger #ben hardy!roger x reader #queen fic #queen fanfic #john deacon

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stellar-imagines · 5 years

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HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝countryside girl.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto ]

「Headcanons of Midoriya and Todoroki having a S/O who lives in the country-side and is multi-talented, cooks delicious meals using ingredients from their large garden, embroiders their own clothes, builds their own furniture.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU

♤ Your first encounter with Midoriya was purely coincidental. You grew up with your grandparents in rural part of Tokyo, a village that's hours away from the centre of the city. It was when you were still so much younger. While kids were attending middle school and dreaming of being heroes, you were working to survive. The first time he met you, you were working at a family restaurant that he frequented. There, he learned your name and little about your life.

♤ As time passes, and when he started his life in UA, you were still working multiple jobs. Midoriya visits you at your workplace often, bringing various food ranging from raw ingredients to cooked food that his mother prepared. Despite working in the city, he learned that you actually lived in the countryside with your grandparents and make YouTube videos. He's really intrigued and checks you content often. Your videos inspired a lot and help people learn more about Japanese traditions and culture.

♤ Midoriya admires you for being so independent and multi-talented, he has a whole notebook on everything you do, from listening to your stories including your videos. During your break, the two of you would exchange information about your private lives but it always ends up with you rambling about your crops and what you're going to use them for. Because of this, he's very curious about this garden/farm that you're always talking about.

♤ During the weekends, he makes time for you. Usually you'd bring him over to your house. Your grandparents were lovely, kind and fond of him. They'd make comments on how you managed to snag a polite, cute and handsome looking city boy as your boyfriend. He'd be so flustered to hear that from the people who raised you. They'd be ecstatic to see you finally bringing someone home since they're worried that you don't have friends at all.

♤ This boy is amazed by every single little thing you do. From handling various harvesting equipment and carrying your harvested crops in handmade baskets. Midoriya can't believe that you do this every single day, handpicking every ingredients for your meals. You're truly an inspiration to a lot of people who watch your videos and he can't help but feel proud of it. And you bet your ass that he's gonna help you with your videos! This boy can't help but brag about you to his close friends, going on and on about how amazing and multi-talented you were.

♤ You'd harvest your own sweet glutinous rice, cooked in a steaming box before being transferred into a steaming. Midoriya is more than happy to help you knead and pound the mochi. He'd be the one pounding away while you occasionally knead it with water. Having such a strong boyfriend like him makes your work easier! But you don't want to overwork him because the weekends were supposed to be days where Midoriya can take a break from UA and his studies.

♤ When he's at your house, he feels at peace. It's away from the city where there were a thousand things going on at the same time. The countryside is very peaceful and there's so many things growing in your garden! The berries you grow would be used for making jams or for meals. You'd make him carry a lot of your homemade food back to his home so he could share with his mother. Sometimes you'd pack some of your fresh vegetables, eggs and fruits for him to use at home.

TODOROKI SHOUTO

☆ This guy doesn't know a single thing. He's very clueless about how stuff works in the countryside but he's very curious about how you live your life. Todoroki is very surprised that you're working at such an age, using whatever money to survive on your own in such a huge city. In a way, he was lucky, being born int a family that barely have problems when it comes with finance. How he met you was purely coincidental. You'd be working multiple jobs at places around his neighbourhood. And at some point, you started talking to him. Slowly, you would give him a small wave whenever you run into him, exchanging greetings and whatnot.

☆ He met you again when you were working as a part time journalist. Todoroki had been a part of a big mission, though his role was minor, he was still questioned by the police and being interviewed. When he saw you again, it felt like he was meeting an old friend but you both never talked that much to be called as friends. So from that point on, you both exchanged contact and kept in touch.

☆ Over the time, he started to have feelings and you both started to date. You'd take him to meet your grandparents, who seemed to be quite surprised that you came home with a handsome boy who looked like they came from a model magazine. Todoroki was the first person you brought to your home at the countryside and he was really amazed at the place you live in. It felt traditional but not modern traditional, it's genuinely traditional.

☆ He's amazed with every single little thing you do. Todoroki has never cooked in his entire life, save for instant noodles and making tea. He helps you at your garden, watering plants and harvesting them. He thinks that everything you're doing is magic. You grow your own vegetables and fruits to eat, raise chickens and cows. There were puppies running about too.

☆ Todoroki learns how to make soba from scratch. You know this boy loves soba and you pulled him over to make some for dinner. He's an interesting student to teach, making buckwheat soba is really difficult because it doesn't contain gluten. It's a nice change of pace from the hectic life at UA. Todoroki feels like he's more in touch with nature and life itself. He gets to walk around your large garden, see how you grow your crops and walk with your puppies.

☆ After coming back from your place, he'd have his hands full with your homemade items, things ranging from homemade jams, soba noodles to handkerchiefs that you made on your own. Let's say that Fuyumi is delighted with all these gifts that you always provide them. She often returns the gift by buying you new pans and equipment.

☆ He learns about your YouTube channel through the girls who watch your videos. And this leads to a lot of questioning because Todoroki accidentally blurted out the fact that you were his girlfriend. Ever since then, he watches your videos, amazed by the quality. He'd understand how it gives people the feeling of living in the countryside.

Total: 1128 words Published: 21.2.2020

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ This piqued my interest a lot! Just from your ask, it got me searching for Li Ziqi in YouTube and honestly, I want to thank you for introducing her to me! She’s amazing!?! And she’s like my idol now!?! That aside, we hope you’re satisfied with what we typed out. ― author Hibiki/Lou

Thank you for requesting! Uoooo, a Li Ziqi fan! I admire her videos because of their quality, it’s so euphoric! She is very talented and makes everything look so effortless. Anyway, sorry to make you wait for so long! We got a bit carried away with this request. ― author Natsuki

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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smartguyreviewed · 4 years

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1x7 - A Little Knowledge

Original air date: May 7, 1997

Hello there, friends. How are we holding up during these “unprecedented times?” I am currently holding up by pretty much being high 18/7, not sleeping and obsessing over a show that pretty much nobody talks about because I am that bored.

Really, I do want to thank anyone who takes the time to read this blog and/or drop a like. I started this blog because I enjoyed reading reviews of Lizzie McGuire and Boy Meets World. And then I thought of how not that many black sitcoms are pretty much ever really discussed. I watched Smart Guy so much when I was a kid but didn’t realize how important it was to even be watching it because we had so many other black television shows during my childhood, the complete opposite of how it is now. I always thought about even making a YouTube channel reviewing that black ass nostalgia that I love so much, but since I’m in the ugly phase of growing my starter locs, I figured I’d blog for now.

Alright! There’s my intro. I really did mean it, but I had no idea how else to segue into the opening for this episode. By the way, if anyone is a super meticulous asshole and thinks the numbering of the episodes is off, I was honestly confused because Disney omitted a whole ass episode of the show, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the numbering of the episodes is different here but nowhere else on the web. The first season is already less than 10 episodes, so whatever.

Okay, so we open to Floyd about to do his books but he needs the little precocious calculator to help him out. This triggers me because I still have not done my taxes even though the deadline was extended. Luckily, it doesn’t appear that the Hendersons have any timely bills due but they are broke. After TJ adds up all the numbers, Floyd sees he is definitely not in the black.

Because the episode is about money, naturally, both of Floyd’s grown children need pricey things all of a sudden. Yvette comes down and asks for a coat to replace this...thing that she’s wearing because it’s clearly ill-fitting. Floyd says he can buy her a new coat, as long as she’s not particular as to which winter she gets it in.

Up next is our Marcus, asking for something totally egregious. At least Yvette was asking for weather appropriate clothing. Marcus is asking Floyd for a $1500 bike. And now I’m confused. Why the hell would Marcus of all people need a bike? If he’s really trying his damndest to get the girls, I thought the band alone served that purpose. Regardless, Marcus needs it and he’s a teenager so the world is going to end tomorrow if he doesn’t get this deathcycle of his. He even tries to manipulate his dad by showing him a photo of Floyd on his bike. I actually think it’s cute how Floyd lights up at the sight of younger him. Maybe he met his deceased wife during these years?

Floyd breaks out of memory lane and reminds Marcus that he, a human parent, wants the finer things also, including the chance to see his old friends at his high school reunion but that doesn’t seem to have a snowball’s chance in hell of happening. Yeah, because Floyd has to put food on the table for a woman and three guys (yes, I’m including Mo and guys eat a lot and I don’t wanna hear shit about how girls eat a lot too because guys just eat more and that’s a fact) and school all of his children. No room for the finer things.

He then says that Yvette and Marcus can buy what they want but simply have to get jobs. Marcus balks at the idea and says he wouldn’t want work to interrupt his studies. Yvette and TJ have a nice little kii over this since hahaha “Marcus is dumb,” hahaha.

We cut to TJ in his room attempting to strategize ways for the Henderson clan to save money while watching a bootleg version of Jeopardy!. Marcus comes in on the phone with Craig, the guy selling the bike, and convinces him to not sell it, even though Marcus only has 4.2% of the funds. Yvette barges in and is pissed at her annoying little brothers for not unlocking her door when they’re done with the bathroom. See, they share a bathroom in this episode. In another episode, Yvette gets her own bathroom built...somewhere because she’s tired of sharing with them. This bathroom is never mentioned again. In another episode, Marcus temporarily moves to the attic. I just wonder exactly how the Henderson house is built because it seems like there’s so much space yet so little space?

The boys aren’t listening to Yvette however, because she stank. She credits this funk to the job she just got at the Cluck Bucket, “yanking the gushy stuff out of chickens,” as Marcus eloquently puts it. She brags, saying she makes $100 a week, which is obviously $1000 a week in 90s money.

After TJ proposes that Yvette cut Marcus’s hair, Marcus realizes TJ is attempting to optimize their family’s finances. TJ really is doing a lot for a 10 year old here. Normally, he’s being extremely rude to them, but in this episode, he’s trying to use his intelligence to fix a problem that he has no business worrying about. Clearly, this intelligence is a gift and a curse. I’m about to be 29 and I worry all the time about things I can’t even control along with the things I can. Imagine being 10, gifted AF and stressing only about adult things you can’t control.

Marcus actually delivers good advice this episode, most likely unbeknownst to him. He commands TJ to turn off his brain and stop worrying because this is something he can’t fix. And Marcus is right. A 10 year old has zero reasons to be trying to balance the family checkbook. It would have been better if he threw a Gameboy at him and told him that’s his homework instead.

But this is TJ and he is the determinator AKA hard-headed. Bootleg Jeopardy! is about to end but the host announces a junior version of the show. TJ checks all the boxes. Youngster? Check. Living in the D.C. area? Check. In desperate need of $25k? Double check!

TJ and Marcus are back home and go over how they’re going to break the news to Floyd since obviously he wouldn’t have given TJ permission to audition if they asked. Floyd seems pissed at first when they tell him but Marcus makes sure to place emphasis on how TJ kicked ass. Floyd is proud now, even though a few moments ago, he was about to go full Papa Bear.

The next day, Piedmont is buzzing about TJ’s television debut but he’s confused because he only told his fam. We then cut to Marcus blabbing to some girl about how he can get her a seat next to him so she can give him a handjob on the sly. (Of course, we don’t even see said girl at the show.) TJ tells Marcus he didn’t want everyone to know because, understandably, now there’s more pressure on him. Marcus responds to this by putting even more pressure on him, telling Craig that TJ is going to win him the bike. Then he puts a damn anvil on it by telling Craig to raise the price to $1700 and he’ll just take the bike now. This will end well.

TJ, under immense pressure because the show is filming in 6 hours at this point (film/TV people, if you’re reading, feel free to say if this is even normal for it to move this quickly especially for an underage guest?), is up late at night studying his ass off and high off legal coke. He’s awoken Marcus who is wondering why on earth TJ would be up this early studying for a quiz television show that has a large monetary prize and they’re broke. He wants TJ to get some sleep by he’s in the zone because he had 20 cups of coffee. After a drug fueled rant, he just passes out.

6 hours later and TJ is still high. Floyd chalks it up to nerves before TJ starts sprinting around the set. Marcus shows up, announcing he just chained up his new bike to a dumpster. This will end well. He checks in on TJ who is still coked up and not coming down anytime soon. His dad calls him over to meet the other contestants which include Dylan Roof and Yung Sharpay.

After the kids are ushered onto set, Floyd goes to the other hoity toity parents, bragging about their kids’ accomplishments. He dismisses them and says TJ actually has a life. Floyd, you dick! Afterwards, the show begins. The host is opening and says he believes that children are our future. Floyd and Marcus are backstage and in true black parent fashion, once TJ is announced, they lose their shit!

The game is now underway and Yung Sharpay and TJ are caught up. Dylan Roof is pretty much just there because he’s so far behind that it doesn’t even matter. Amy loudly tells TJ that he has a broken leg and they’re loading the shotgun because she just caught up to him. Of course, nobody heard this even though she was loud as hell. Also, racial implications much?

Yvette comes late in her work uniform and is hurriedly trying to tell Marcus a bit of info he’ll want to act fast on, but naturally, he shushes her to listen to the game that TJ is about to possibly lose. Yvette is also a petty asshole, so she doesn’t even try to tell him again. They cut to break and Yvette announces then that Marcus’s bike is gone. Turns out, locking it to a dumpster isn’t the best idea because some guy in a garbage truck stole it dragged the dumpster away. Marcus is pissed and lets slip that he paid $1700 for it which gets him in trouble because he just told Floyd that he was taking it on a test drive. Then the rest of the truth spews out. Marcus says he wanted something from the money TJ was going to win and oh mama is Floyd pissed because he naturally expects the worst from Marcus always and thinks he forced TJ to be in the competition which wasn’t even the case. Floyd tells Marcus he’s going to talk to TJ and warns him to “brace himself” for when he gets back. Yvette gleefully says she’s going to get chalk for his body outline. What did Marcus do to everyone to make them hate him so much? TJ does way shittier things than him and he’s still held in high regard. Hmm.

Floyd comes over to TJ to check in and lets him know that he’s aware of what’s going on. TJ, who has only consumed coffee and chocolate for the past few hours, is now dizzy. Floyd has to remind TJ that he has plenty of time to worry about rent and bills and student loans and credit card debt and finding a therapist and the pressure to have it “together” by the time you’re 30 which is crazy unrealistic. Good lesson and one of the few times I don’t wanna strangle TJ. Understandably, with the pressure off, TJ wants to dipset. The host, while seeing TJ and Floyd leaving, says they signed a contract so somebody needs to fill in for TJ. Cut to one of the funniest scenes in the show, hands down.

The question is how much did Thomas Jefferson, another TJ, pay for the Louisiana Purchase? This is word for word what Marcus-as-TJ says.

“Well uh, let’s see. In DC, the most you can take out of the ATM is $300 and you would wanna hold back a $20 in case something comes up, so I’m gonna say $280, Hugh.”

Yvette’s reaction says it all.

In the end, we see Yvette at the Cluck Bucket, putting on her functional gray pea coat that she probably got from Contempo Casuals or something. Marcus is the janitor now because he has to work off his debt to Craig and because remember, Marcus is a dark-skinned buffoon and couldn’t get the same job as Yvette for some reason. Whatever. I wonder what Yung Sharpay did with her prize money.

Stuff I Noticed:

- Yvette’s jacket. What is this?

- Marcus’s face for Lil’ Dylan and Yung Sharpay versus TJ. I love black families.

White lady on the left does not approve.

- No Mo this episode! :(

#ashley tisdale #smart guy #disney #tahj mowry #tj henderson #90s #nineties #marcus henderson #floyd henderson #john marshall jones #jason weaver #high school musical #yvette henderson #essence atkins

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prorevenge · 6 years

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Entitled parent steals from student fund, gets sued over corruption

Hello lads,

I wanted to share a story with you. I'm a 23 YO university student in Slovakia, so please keep in mind English is my 3rd language.

The story evolves around our prom night and our funds (2014 - 2015). In my secondary school of business (commercial academy), we used to pay 50 € into the fund each year to save up for the prom. We had 29 students and accumulated 5 800 € over the period of 4 years. The last year, we had to appoint a parent, who will take care of the finances (managing the account, paying for the things we need, handling the alcohol etc.). Unfortunately, EM "nominated" herself. Other parents were just like "meh, I don't want to do that".

This is where the story begins. EM (Mother) was also a mayor in the small village I live in ( My school was only about 5 min drive from my house to my school in a town nearby). I had also been a really good friend with her son (John) when we were younger. John changed and became unbelievably spoiled over the years. When we entered our new school, he started rubbing his "high life" and how rich he is in everybody's face. Standard rich spoiled a**hole. He was the first to get his new car, always the new iPhone, going on expensive vacations, etc. Simply, nobody could be better or richer than him.

As we come close the the prom night, we quickly find that our funds are almost drained out. The girls in our class were really shocked. They had planned the prom to the smallest detail with every cent put to use. We even had to end with 600 € at the end of the prom. Suddenly we had last 50 € in the bank account. Back then, we didn't really care, EM just took more money than she should and she will return it later. We asked the EM, where she spent the money. She just replied "I had spent it where you told me to, the rest I will put back".

I didn't believe a single word, but since it was a night before the prom, we didn't care. The prom was nice, we had lots of fun, inviting parents and teachers alike. With best possible food and alcohol for the evening.

The next day we went over our account and found out we were actually 600 € in debt. WTF just happened?! We first checked with the EM. She gave 200 € to the photographer. Paid him even 200 € for the job well done (really stupid) and even another 200 € to get "bluray" discs instead of regular DVDs or CDs. We bought her BS, for a time. We called the photographer. LO and BEHOLD, he only received 200 €. Question was, where did the rest of the money ended up? You guessed it right, in EM's pocket. It was not only that, a couple of 100 € here and 100 € there and you get the picture. WE estimated that out of the 5800 € we have originally had, she "borrowed" 1200 €.

We told our class-teacher and our parents about that. They were all furious at her. She was asked to present cash register receipts to see where the money went. She was red the whole day as she was trying to falsify the receipts. Eventually nobody bought into her lies anymore. She was asked multiple times to cover the losses, but she had always found an excuse (couldn't press charges, as the fund was rather voluntary, and we had no official documents, plus we gave her all the info how to withdraw the money and the credit card). Eventually our graduation came along (Maturita in Slovakia). We had no more money to make a small feast for the teachers before the graduation, as we would never see each-other again. Some of the parents volunteered to bake a cook something for the teachers. The EM came as well, and she even had the courage to eat from the tables our parents voluntarily made, free of cost. She was even asked to stay outside and was not allowed to enter until she pays her debt.

A few day after a get a FB notification from John...and boy..the audacity!

"If everyone in the class would give 20 € more, we would cover the expenses". Suddenly a rich brat turns into a choosing beggar. I told him no. He had a party in the evening since it was his B-day, so I went there. I handed him a bottle of Jack Daniels (because he gave it to me on my B-day, saying I could never afford it myself) and told him "We're done, I'm not your friend".

I couldn't let it slide. Her husband had covered the expenses eventually but it wasn't good enough. She stole from her son and from his classmates. From what I know she is a fraud (tax evasion, accountancy fraud, falsifying documents and even extortion). What we did is, we rounded up what evidence we had on her (for stealing from our fund) and we handed all the to the prosecutor, who was investigating her case (working on her corruption charges at that time, it would give a great profile of the person, who steals from her son). The trial was delayed several times ( due to her knowing "some people"). But we eventually, we put her under so much stress, she couldn't even think straight. We sometimes wrote messages on her FB page asking for her confession to the police and even sending emails to her detailing her "SCAM".

After a while she was making even bigger mistakes. She was trying to avoid this trial, as much as possible. She wouldn't want to be confronted by "stealing from a prom fund, from her son". Her actions got to her fast. There are still ongoing corruption investigations (3 I know of) as well as abuse of powers as a public official. There is also a warrant to arrest her (don't know if they really did). Since the last trial of another scam, she even had to pawn her house, sell her car even her son's motorcycle. She's now in hiding.

John didn't make it far either. As a spoiled brat he was unable to find a steady job (had like 8 Jobs in 2 years, and dropped out of college after only one winter semester). Rumors have it he deals in pot nowadays. The only person I pity, is EM's husband, John's father. He was the only actual nice guy in their family, even stood up for me once in primary school. EM didn't want to pay money she borrowed from a bunch of other people on HIS name, so she made him announce bankruptcy and possible insanity. To this day, he is still married to her (as far as I know). As I remember him, he once told me "family is the most important thing a man can look up to, to make him feel proud, to fell like you a part of something". Now, I feel like, he has nowhere else to go, but to stay with her.

Long story short; EM steals money from our fund, we put pressure on her and give up evidence in court to show what b*tch she is in court, EM tries to avoid everybody.

(source) story by (/u/TDuranteTech)

#prorevenge #by /u/TDuranteTech #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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wolfie-dragon-rider · 5 years

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Bursts of Light, Day 24: Making up Afterward

A/N: I’m (finally) back with another one-shot in my Blindcup series. Only 6 left! I promise I will finish them all! This one takes place immediately after the previous chapter.

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"Knock knock! Astrid, are you there? Hiccup?" Kirsten called out, frowning when no one came to open the door to her daughter's house. Maybe they were enjoying each other, making full use of the honeymoon they were only halfway through? It'd make sense. Kirsten remembered her own honeymoon fondly, even if they had really been too young for married life.

Still, she didn't trust the silence in the house. The window was open, so if the newlyweds were… occupied, surely she'd hear something. She walked over, looking into the living room and preparing to glance away if they happened to be busy on the kitchen table.

Huh. No sign of them. Some dishes were left on the table, with traces of breakfast, probably from this morning. So it wasn't like they were sleeping late. Wouldn't be like Astrid anyway, the girl was always up with the sun, and right now it was almost noon. Surely they hadn't broken the tradition and sneaked out? Hiccup did like to break traditions, but no, not possible. Toothless and Stormfly were still staying with her and Tolfdir.

Kirsten sighed, debating leaving the basket full of food on their doorstep or just coming back later, when a sound reached her, coming from behind the house.

She walked around the house, eyes widening when she saw the state of the treeline. All of the trunks had deep gashes, like a great monster had swept through and sharpened its claws on them. A few trees had been felled, but not cleanly like they had been chopped for firewood. No, their leafs and branches were left intact, sticking out among the bushes were they had fallen.

An axe flew into the forest, glistening in the bright sun. It struck a battered tree, sinking deep into the ancient wood. The bark groaned, and for a moment Kirsten feared it would fall as well.

A blonde girl stomped over, grabbing the axe handle and wrenching it out with a loud cry. She then marched back to a spot where the grass was stomped and yellowed, before throwing the axe again.

Kirsten waited until she was sure her daughter didn't have a deadly weapon in her hand before announcing her presence.

"Knock knock! Is this a bad time?" she asked, walking into the 'yard', the little cleared area near their back door between the hot spring and the forest. Astrid jumped, hand straying to her leg for a second, surely to grab a dagger. Oh, her daughter was so much like her father, always prepared for attacks.

"No, I… We aren't supposed to talk, I thought. Are you here to drop off the food?" Astrid said, clearly shaken by her sudden arrival.

"Well, I was, but it looks like something's going on here. Something that warrants me bending the rules a little. Why aren't you inside with your husband? Where is Hiccup, by the way?" Kirsten asked, putting her hand on her daughter's shoulder and gently squeezing.

"He's locked himself in his workshop, I think. I don't know. Things are weird between us," Astrid slowly said with a deep sigh. Kirsten frowned, putting the basket of food down and leading her daughter to one of the fallen trees. A part near the base had no branches, so it provided a place for them to sit.

"Oh dear, what's going on? I hope you don't think that marrying was too hasty or something. You'd been stuck in the same stage for years, you two needed to move up a bit!" Kirsten said, sitting down. Astrid hesitated for a second before sitting next to her.

"I don't know! It's like… I love him, okay? I love him so much and ever since we… Ever since the wedding night it feels like that love is so much more complete. But at the same time I am just… annoyed at everything he does! We have these stupid fights about stupid nothings and yet they're not nothings and it doesn't make sense. Before this honeymoon we rarely fought, at least not over random stuff like… who should do the dishes or where to put whetstones! But now we… I don't know, we're avoiding each other? Except we're also not, we do… you-know, a lot, and then we talk, but it's not about anything, just how much we love each other. It's so confusing!" Astrid said, almost in one breath. Kirsten was sure she had been holding these things in for two weeks now, and she remembered why she hated that stupid rule about honeymoon isolation.

"Come here," she simply said, opening her arms wide. Astrid shook her head for a second, but then she all but jumped into her arms. Soft sniffs followed.

"There, there. It's okay to feel this way. I think I know what's going on, but before I explain let's just let everything out, okay? You've been cooped up for too long!" she whispered, patting Astrid's back gently as she let out all the frustrations.

"Is this what the old men mean when they complain about married life? I thought we'd just… I didn't think we'd fight so much! I'm so miserable and yet I don't want to leave him either, he makes me happy!" Astrid said, clearly trying not to cry.

"Oh, love, it's gonna be okay. It's normal. Your father and I went through this as well when we got married. You know we got married… hastily, and I was already pregnant, but still," Kirsten said, slowly pulling Astrid out of the embrace so they could look at each other.

"You see, moving in together is a really really big step. You're gonna see parts of each other that you hadn't seen before, notice habits that annoy you, have to compromise on things you did separately."

"You know how in stories, characters have good and bad qualities, perks and flaws? In reality, a quality can seem both good and bad depending on the situation. Your boyfriend might seem really spontaneous and generous, always surprising you with gifts, but then when you're married and have shared finances, that suddenly becomes an inability to handle money. Maybe you always liked how Hiccup is rebellious and doesn't limit himself with tradition, but over time that can also be a lack of structure or makes him unreliable. You like how he works hard on new inventions all day, until he starts leaving his sketches and tools all over your house that you just cleaned," Kirsten explained, and Astrid slowly nodded.

"I… I guess that makes sense. We keep fighting over things we didn't have to deal with before. Who cleans the house, where to put our shared things, when to go to sleep. And in those things we… clash. But how do I fix that? I don't want to fight like this all the time!" she said, looking away and fiddling with her skirt.

"You talk about it calmly. Tolfdir and I have a rule that we never go to bed angry with each other. We always talk things out. It doesn't have to be right when you have a fight, sometimes you just need a break to cool down and think things over, but you do have to talk before it starts to fester. And then together you figure out what caused the fight, what a solution is to whatever the fight was about, and how you stop this from causing more fights in the future. It's… not always easy, but married life isn't easy. It's hard work, especially when you're stubborn like you and Hiccup are!" Kirsten chuckled. Astrid was silent for a while, but eventually nodded.

"I… I'll try that. But what if Hiccup doesn't want to cooperate?" she asked, looking up at the house with a nervous expression.

"Oh girl, I think Hiccup wants nothing more than to make things right, but he just doesn't know how. Neither of you knew how to make the first step. That boy doesn't hold grudges, you know that. And he loves you to bits, he won't stay angry at you. I think he's just a bit scared and claustrophobic right now. He probably misses Toothless, gods know that dragon misses him, and he misses flying and smithing and all his other routine. When you're handicapped like Hiccup that routine is very important, you know. So he's a little lost now, and he probably doesn't know how to ask you for help since you are just as lost and he doesn't want to burden you."

Astrid chuckled. "How do you always know what is going on in people's heads?"

"A lot of practice at the Great Hall, dear. That's all there is to it. Practice. So now, go back in there and practice making up with your husband! Freya, your husband! I can't believe I finally get to say that. Now I need a new routine as well, can't just tell you to get married anymore! Maybe I should start asking for grandkids, but I feel like you don't need my pushing for that!" she laughed, before standing up. Astrid blushed brightly.

"Thanks, Mother," she simply said, standing up as well.

"No problem. Remember that you can always ask me for help, no matter how old you get. I'm still your mom," Kirsten said, before giving Astrid the basket of food.

"Now go in there, eat this food, and figure things out with Hiccup. And then when this is all over you'll look back on this and laugh at how stupid you were," she said, walking back to the village. Astrid didn't follow, instead grabbing her axe and going back inside the house. Kirsten chuckled to herself, knowing those kids would be just fine.

-------------------

Hiccup sat in his workshop, digging in one of the piles of designs for an old sketch for an irrigation system. For a second he considered asking Astrid for help, but then he remembered why he had shut himself in here in the first place.

Actually, he didn't really know why. It felt like none of it made sense. Just two weeks ago he had been happier than he had ever been. He was married to the most wonderful woman in the world.

And now it had all turned to crap. It was like all they could do was fight over stupid things. Just this morning they had fought over whether bread should be buttered on both sides. Astrid had expressed surprise that he smeared both sides with big sweeps. He had made a joke in reply, thinking she was kidding, but then it somehow devolved into an argument about wasting valuable food and how he didn't know how expensive butter is.

Hiccup wasn't proud of the way he handled it: by running away into his workshop and slamming the door. A few seconds later the back door slammed as well, Astrid probably going outside for axe throwing.

Maybe this wouldn't all be for nothing if he could just work. This invention would help all the farmers on Berk, it was more important than this one stupid argument. He just had to find the damn sketch among all the other plates of copper by feeling them one by one.

His fingers ran over drawings of mills and saddles, houses and ships, but then he suddenly found a sketch of a clawhammer. The moment he realized what it was he froze. The copper fell to the floor with a loud bang.

Hiccup's hands shook as he picked it back up. This was the first thing he and Astrid designed together. Just two weeks after he woke up without his leg. They developed their routine as they worked on this simple tool. His throat filled up, and he suddenly wished they could go back to that simpler time.

Where had it all gone wrong? Back then they didn't fight like this! They worked together as easy as breathing.

His free hand balled into a fist as he tried to stay strong. Why did he have to be so useless?! Normally when something was broken Astrid and him would work together to fix it, but this… This was something broken between them.

He wished he could ask somebody. Gobber, his dad, Toothless, Cami. But no, he was stuck inside this damn house for another two weeks, alone with his thoughts and the love of his life he could only make love or fight with.

Gods, his entire mind was messed up from it all. Their intimacy had only made things more complicated, making them closer than ever even as they had arguments over mundane things.

A soft sob escaped his throat despite his best efforts. More followed. Just as he tried to get it back under control there was a knock on the door. It was a gentle knock, not like Astrid's usual angry knocks.

"Hiccup? Can we talk?" Astrid's voice called through the door, soft and vulnerable. In his surprise he sniffed loudly, and he instantly knew Astrid could tell he was crying.

"Hic… I'm not angry. Not anymore, and I just… I hate this situation. I hate that we're fighting so much and I want to make it right. And I suspect you hate it just as much. So can I come in? Or do you want to come out?"

Another sob wrenched itself from his throat despite his best efforts. Oh gods, what a mess. What would Astrid think of him? But still… he trusted her. Despite the tension of the past few weeks he knew she would never laugh at him. So he stumbled to the door on unsteady legs, copper plate still in his hand. His fingers trembled as he unlocked the latch.

The door slowly swung open, the creaking the only sound apart from the soft sniffs he tried to suppress.

Hiccup didn't know what to say or do, waiting for Astrid to enter the dark room and give him clarity.

"We've both been complete idiots."

Out of all the things he imagined her saying, that was not something he had expected. His very eloquent response was "Uh-huh."

"Look, I've did a lot of thinking and… and I realized that neither of us were prepared for this change. Living together, having to figure out how to divide chores and share a house and be together literally all the time. But that doesn't mean we can't figure this out now. We're adults, we're married, we can talk about this, right? So… can we? Calmly, without getting angry?" she softly asked, voice so fragile it broke Hiccup's heart too.

"I… I want nothing more. But I don't know how," he managed to say, sitting down in his chair.

"Well, how a conversation works is that I say something, and then you say something, and then I say something again-" she deadpanned.

"Haha, very funny," he said, genuinely chuckling. Gods, it felt good to laugh with her again.

"Seriously though. Can we try, at least? How about this morning? Can we please just talk about what went wrong during that stupid fight?" Astrid slowly said, hopping on the workbench next to him.

"Okay. Alright. I'll try. I guess for me it just went so fast. At first I thought you were just joking, teasing. But then two sentences later we were shouting at each other and slamming doors and I don't understand how that happened so fast," he explained, turning away a bit.

"Thing is, I wasn't joking. And when you acted like I was it felt like you weren't taking me seriously. You know money is not an easy topic for me. I shouldn't have shouted, though. And I'm sorry I did. I should have just explained that," Astrid said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm… I suppose that makes sense. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have run away. I just… I feel like I'm suffocating lately. And that's not you, I love you so much and I want to be with you, but I miss blacksmithing and Toothless and going to the cove and flying and so much more. And it feels like all I can do this month is design things in this workshop without my blacksmithing tools, and talk to you about dumb stuff. And that leads to arguments about dumb stuff. I'm sorry, I guess I'm just frustrated and have taken that out on you. You didn't deserve that," he slowly said, awkwardly moving his hand to grab hers, squeezing softly.

"No, I didn't, and you didn't deserve my anger either. Maybe I was also scared, scared that we got married too quickly, that we aren't ready for this yet. But as long as we can just talk about it later, before it starts to fester, we should be alright."

Hiccup nodded, squeezing her hand again. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Oddly, it was like this was the most intimate thing they had done so far, despite all the lovemaking that had happened before.

"Was that the entire conversation? Is everything out now?" Astrid suddenly asked.

"You know, I think it was," he said, awed at how much lighter he felt. There were a few seconds of silence, and then he had to scream his thoughts: "That was so easy!"

"We are so stupid!" Astrid shouted, before doubling over with laughter. Hiccup couldn't help but laugh as well, before gently pulling her off the workbench and onto his lap so he could hug her.

"Oh, you're amazing. Let's never be this ridiculous again. Next time we talk calmly about things, okay?" he asked, sensing her nod.

"Yes, let's try that. But you know, Hiccup, there's something good that comes from dumb fights…" Astrid said, her tone teasing. He frowned, unsure of what she meant.

"We get to have make-up sex," she chuckled, grinding on his lap, and he moaned softly. Oh gods. Hiccup was sure that next time they fought things wouldn't spiral out of control anymore. He just had to survive Astrid's endless stamina.

#bursts of light #blind spots #httyd #fanfic #hiccstrid

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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years

Text

Domestic! Kang Daniel

Thanks so much for this request! I decided to do this a little different from others out there, with more of a focus on what it was like living together, as opposed to all the more cute, boyfriend styled answers I found when I researched this idea.

Morning routine:

Waking up wrapped up in his arms, soft kisses and morning greetings

Not moving right away, content in each other’s arms

Daniel doesn’t like getting up straight away, or at all, and if he could he’d make you stay curled up in bed all day long

In fact if you both don’t have any plans it’s what he’s going to suggest first

But the cats need to be fed, as do you both, and so he’ll help you out of bed, gently kissing you on your head as you go into the bathroom

Both self sufficient enough to get ready in the morning and focus on your own tasks

Daniel usually still eating as you dart about the house looking for lost keys or your bag

Which are always in the same place but you seem to become frazzled with the list of things ahead of you to do in your work day

Goodbye kisses are brief but sweet, the odd occasion Daniel will follow you down to the door to get more in, because he doesn’t want to say goodbye yet

Chores:

You have a roster that you rotate tasks between each day

Daniel doesn’t complain, he likes knowing what he is expected to do

You share the chores evenly, and have no gender roles (ie girls do dishes, boys mow lawns)

You’re very capable of changing your own lightbulb, thanks

Daniel likes seeing you clean, knowing you aren’t afraid to get dirty

For some reason this is attractive to him, as he watches you degrease the oven

For shits and giggles you make him wear an apron sometimes, mostly because he can get messy when cleaning and it makes it harder to get stains out of his clothes

He complained at first, but you knew he actually liked it, especially since you were the one to put it on him

Now he expects you to apron him up every time

Big cleans outs happen once a month since you both are relatively tidy in your living together

Normally always ends in bickering about missing something obvious all this time

You telling Daniel to clean it himself if he wasn’t satisfied with your efforts

Only for you to keep cleaning because you’re angry and what better way to let off steam than scrubbing at the grout on the bathroom tiles

Likes when you make natural cleaners and learned how to make them as well, because he doesn’t want anything toxic near the cats lol priorities

Cooking /Food:

You do grocery shopping together, and you frequent the local markets as often as you can for fresh meat and produce

You cook together as well, each dividing the work load and preparing what you’re in charge of

You taught Daniel a lot of the meals your mother made you as a child and he loves when you cook them for him too

Daniel is very attentive in the kitchen, and loves eating as many meals as he can with you each day

Sometimes makes you a packed lunch for work, and it’s usually set up as you would for a child, lots of heart shaped pieces, and cute faces made with seaweed

Always a note attached telling you to have a great day and to feel energised after eating his food

Enjoys when you cut up pieces of fruit and peel them for him, feeding him them as you laze about the house at night or in the weekend

Lots of dates are held at home because you both like to cook for each other

Habits you’d like to change:

Living with Daniel has been easier on your relationship than hard

But sometimes you wanted to do more than he did

Daniel’s a self proclaimed homebody and you initially thought you were as well

But there’s only so much laying around the house you can do before you feel unproductive

He doesn’t like how you watch the clock and live to utilise all the hours each day to the fullest because it easily stresses you out

Would love it if you slowed down and even tried to throw out the kitchen clock because he noticed how much you referred to it during the day

Errands/Schedule:

Both use an app to store household errands and a monthly calendar on

Made it easier for you both to know what was happening each day

Admittedly you had to train him on this but it didn’t take Daniel long to like the system, if he was out, he could check to see if you needed something for dinner that night, or pick up the dry cleaning

Otherwise you liked to run weekly errands together on Fridays, getting them done before the weekend began

Would usually end in a lunch date at a cute café, which is why you both anticipated Fridays the most each week

Night routine:

After dinner, Daniel likes to relax

It’s when he’s the most attentive to you, happy to run you a bath, and insists on drying your hair for you if you wash it

On the couch cuddling is a non negotiable past 8pm

If you’re stressed its generally time where you both talk about your day and help each other through any hardships

Otherwise you’re both just watching tv lazily

Daniel often falls asleep there and so you have to decide on whether to wake him up or not

Sometimes just getting a blanket, his peaceful state too precious to disturb

Until he wakes you at 2am complaining that you left him again, and waking up without you beside him is the worst

Other times you shake him awake and tell him to go to bed

You always stay up later than him and he dislikes this, wanting you to come to bed with him

Daniel is clingy, especially when he’s sleepy

You’re like his comfort blanket, and he needs contact with you at all times

Most of the time you just grab a book and go to bed with him

Brushing your teeth together and smiling when you each catch the other looking over in the mirror

Unlike the mornings, the bathroom night routine is shared together

Sometimes you apply each other’s skin care and it feels so darn nice to be pampered like that

If Daniel doesn’t fall asleep before you, it’s a perfect time to whisper sweet nothings at each other, falling more in love if it’s even possible at this stage into your relationship

Pets:

Of course you already knew Daniel had two cats before you moved in together

Now you have three, with Daniel trying to find every excuse in the world to bring home more

You’d have a whole house full if he had it his way

You loved animals so it wasn’t a big deal raising your three cats

Quite often they felt like your children and you would discuss them together like that

“Today Ori stood up when I offered her a treat!”

“Oh my goodness really? Aw I missed it, you should have filmed it!”

Admittedly, you got jealous sometimes with how much attention he’d give them

Or how much he’d spoil them

They had the spare room in your apartment as their designated cat room after all

Let’s be real they had free rein of the house and they ruled you both

Daniel was happy to be the one to clean up behind them the most since he was so used to doing it before you came into his world

You both would feed them each, you in the morning and him at night

But overall, the cats were as much a part of your world as Daniel was

Down time:

Happy to do your own tasks or something together

Gym buddies since you complained about getting too out of shape

Movies were usually your go to for a shared activity

Or you know, something more intimate

Otherwise Daniel would spend his time with the cats, content in playing with them

You liked to read a lot

You had gotten him into adult colouring and now it was something you’d do on Sundays, Daniel insisting on de-stressing together before the new week

Again de-stressing could include de-clothing, but we won’t go there in this, heh (check out Different Kisses if you want more of that side to him)

Liked to go on walks at the park with you when the weather was good

Day/overnight excursions happened twice a month, and generally were planned by Daniel

“Why are we going to the mountains?”

“You mentioned how relaxing you’d find a cabin to be, so let’s see if it is.”

You loved these moments, escaping the daily grind of reality for a magical getaway, making more memories and growing further as a couple

Arguments:

You both usually only bickered about small things like most couples do

But when it was more heated you’d give each other the silent treatment

This changed the whole atmosphere and routines in the apartment

You stuck mostly to the living area whilst he would take the cats into their room and stay with them

Until the argument was over it was like you were housemates, not a couple

Though admittedly, because it was so automatic, you couldn’t help but make him a meal by accident, leaving it for him to eat whenever he came out of the cat room

And he would eat it, not wanting your efforts to go to waste

Awkward waiting on each other when using the bathroom, when usually you just barged in on each other without a care

When the argument was resolved, you spent the next week both really involved in each other’s daily schedule and emotions, trying to get your rhythm back to where it had been

Finances:

You each had your own funds and wanted to keep it that way until marriage

But you both paid an amount each pay into a household account that you had opened together before moving in

That way all the communal bills were taken care of

Groceries you always went in halves for as well

Daniel paid more towards the cats, because he claimed them as his own

Though you wouldn’t hesitate to buy them toys, litter, and feed if you were out and they needed them

At first Daniel kept trying to be the one who paid for dates

But you wanted to start paying too, ever since you moved in together

This was something you sometimes bickered over

And probably the only money related argument you ever had

Because you were both pretty dependable and smart about how you used money

After a couple of months living together you opened another joint account to save for your future, with the agreement if something happened you’d split it evenly

But both of you knew that was never going to happen, so you’d always talk about using the money on getting married or buying a house together one day

I hope you enjoyed this! I enjoyed exploring a different aspect to Daniel!

To read further on Daniel may I suggest: Different Kisses | Working Out with Daniel | Boyfriend! Daniel

______________________

I accept requests on other idols for the Domestic! series whenever my requests are open! To check to see if I’ve written your bias already, go HERE. Otherwise you’re most welcome to send me a MESSAGE to request someone new.

Other Wanna One members in this series: Seongwoo

[Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

Thanks for your support!!

#kang daniel #wanna one kang daniel #wanna one #wanna one fiction #wanna one imagines #wanna one scenario #domestic!kang daniel #kpop #kang daniel fiction #kang daniel imagine #kang daniel scenario #prettywordsyouleft requested

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kassandra-lorelei · 6 years

Text

@missbabcocks1 I FINISHED UR PROMPT. My last one entirely before I go on holiday tomorrow <3

JONAH AND CHARITY (both out of college and w jobs) GO TELL NILES. AND C.C. THEY ARE PREGNANT

The dinner was wonderful, even if he did think so himself. The food was delicious, the wine complimented it perfectly, and table had been set out in perfect and precise order. It was everything that he and C.C. needed to host a successful dinner.

Well, mostly everything.

For all their planning, all the cleaning and all the cooking he’d done, they couldn’t force conversation. And neither Charity nor Jonah, whom they’d invited over to have their usual weekly meal with them as part of the family (well, some of the family, with Faith away at university and Hope out with friends), seemed to want to converse.

They didn’t really want to seem to eat, either. They looked distracted and nervous, and it was starting to play on Niles’ mind. Something had to be wrong – something they weren’t telling them – but what could it be?

There was really only one way to find out. If they were too afraid to bring it up, then he’d bring the matter up himself.

He didn’t really have any other choice – he’d been exchanging concerned looks with C.C. for quite some time, and she’d just given him a subtle kick in the shin, which was her signal that he should do something.

He cleared his throat before beginning, in order to catch their slightly distracted attention.

“You two have been rather quiet this evening,” he said carefully. “Is everything alright?”

Charity and Jonah exchanged another look. It was one both her parents knew well, because they’d often shared one that was similar.

It was the look of two people who’d just made up their minds to tell someone else an important piece of news.

“Um…” Charity mumbled, biting the inside of her lip. “Well, I guess it depends.”

C.C. blinked between the younger couple, “What do you mean “it depends”?”

Jonah shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

“It depends on…” he began carefully. “Whether or not you guys are…in favour of grandchildren.”

In the silence that followed, it was possible to hear a pin dropping. Well, that and the ticking of a clock denoting time which didn’t seem to be passing.

Had…had they heard him correctly?

It would...explain why Charity hadn’t touched her wine...

Niles swallowed, relieving his suddenly dry mouth, “I beg your pardon?”

Charity tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking him in the eyes as she answered, “I’m pregnant, Daddy.”

“Pregnant?!” Niles and C.C. cried in unison.

But that was the only similarity their reactions shared. With a cry of joy, C.C. immediately rose from the table and went to hug their daughter, congratulating both her and Jonah, and asking all kinds of questions like when had they found out and had they booked an appointment to see an obstetrician already.

Niles didn’t hear the answers. He couldn’t move. He felt…oddly clammy. Not like his heart attack had been. More like the kind of feeling one would get when frustrated, but unable to do anything about it. A strange mixture of anger and sadness that wouldn’t go away.

In fact, it only increased and made him want to curl his hands into fists when he looked at Jonah.

The boy should have been more responsible. They both should have been! They had careers that were just starting to flourish – Jonah worked in C.C.’s father’s company (a job that C.C. herself had managed to get him, after he’d finished his degree in Finance), and Charity was a clerk at a law firm. What would they do now? Charity couldn’t be expected to keep working, and yet her career would probably end then and there if she didn’t…

Couldn’t they have waited just a little longer, been more careful, until they were a little older and more secure?!

C.C. noticed his disposition had changed first, and she came over to put her hands on his shoulders, “Niles are you okay?”

He looked at her concerned face. And then around at Charity and Jonah.

It was all too much. The stress and the worry about what would happen was too much.

“No, I…I don’t believe I am…” he said. He then got up from the table, dumping his napkin down by his plate. “Please excuse me, I don’t feel all that hungry.”

He retreated upstairs, to their home office. It was quite at that end of the house, and it helped him to gather his thoughts some more.

But he wasn’t up there, sat at the desk, for very long before C.C. appeared in the doorway.

She marched into the room, her face like thunder and pointing back out into the hall.

“That was a pretty crappy thing you did down there,” she snapped.

Niles scowled back at her, “Would you rather I’d stayed and ended up killing Jonah?”

“No, but I do think you could’ve stayed and offered a little bit of support to our daughter,” his wife argued, folding her arms.

He turned to look at her, “I will support her.”

“Well, you’ve got a damn fine way of showing it!” C.C. shouted, gesturing at the door again. “How do you think it made Charity feel, seeing you just get up and leave like that?!”

A pang of guilt went through Niles chest, but he argued back anyway, “I needed some time to think!”

“About what?” C.C. asked. “Your daughter’s pregnant – what’s there to think about after that?”

Niles wanted to answer – the financial aspects, the fact that Charity and Jonah weren’t married, they didn’t even live together…!

But C.C. cut in with a sigh first, and leaned herself against the desk.

“Look, you’re disappointed – I get that. I’d have preferred that they’d waited, too,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But these things happen, Hazel! You and I know that better than anyone!”

He knew exactly what she was talking about. But he was still in an argumentative mood.

“That was different.”

C.C. gave him a hard stare, “How was it different?”

Niles knew exactly where to begin, and it all came out at once, “We were older than they are. We weren’t just starting out in jobs and careers. We were married.”

C.C. let out a disbelieving scoff of a laugh.

“Yeah, for like an hour and a half!” she exclaimed. “People don’t have to be married to have babies, Niles! And we weren’t living together at first, either! We had to figure all of that out as we went along!”

Niles paused, feeling his previous feelings of worry and anger subsiding.

They had worked it out as they’d gone along. They’d gone from two people just dating, to engaged, to married, to expectant parents over the course of one night into the early morning! Then they’d had to prepare for the move to California – they’d had to find and buy their own house, get another car, get settled in their careers and a whole new way of life…

“And you know what? That actually gives Charity and Jonah an advantage,” C.C. budged him along to sit in the office chair with him. “Because we can be there to guide them through it all! They’ve got great jobs, they’re not without money, and they love each other.”

She was right. Even if he was still worried about how their careers would work, Charity and Jonah were already both from wealthy homes and clearly adored each other (he had to see it, even if he had disapproved at first). He and C.C. could easily help them navigate things like getting a place of their own, or babysitting if they needed it…

With a little bit of help, it would practically be smooth sailing.

He must have just been so shocked, none of it had registered properly…

C.C. leaned into him, “All they need now is-”

A soft knock at the door interrupted them, and the older couple looked up.

Charity and Jonah were there. He had his arms protectively around Charity, who appeared to be trying hard to stop crying.

“Daddy.”

Another, stronger pang of guilt went through Niles. He knew immediately that the tears were his fault, and he got up out of the chair to go to her.

He held out his arms towards her, “Charity…”

His little girl sniffed in return, and wiped her eyes, “I’m sorry, Daddy, I-”

“No, no sweetheart…!” he hurried forward the last few steps to take her hands. “I’m the one who needs to apologise. I overreacted out of shock, and concern for things which are mostly already taken care of.”

They really were taken care of. Anything else could be sorted out – they had the money to do it. He hadn’t meant to make her so upset, especially not when there really was something wonderful about the idea of his little girl growing up to be a parent.

He hadn’t seen it before, because he’d been caught up in worrying about things he needn’t have. But he could see it now – both Charity and Jonah as parents to a little boy or girl – and it didn’t seem nearly as impossible or worrying as it had when he’d first found out.

“Your mother made me realise that…well, when we first started out we weren’t so different from you two. And things have worked out more than wonderfully for us,” he reached up to wipe away the tears left on her cheeks. “I’m sure it will be the same for you as well, because you’ll have something we didn’t.”

Charity blinked at him, “What didn’t you have?”

“Complete parental approval,” C.C. told her, coming to stand by her husband.

Niles smiled at his wife, and then at their daughter, “And all the support you need.”

Their daughter’s face became hopeful, “You…you mean it?”

“I do,” he nodded, and looked to the floor in shame. “That is, if you can forgive an old man for acting out of sorts?”

He didn’t see her expression because he was still looking at the carpet, but he felt it when Charity rushed forward to put her arms around him.

“Of course I forgive you,” she whispered. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Niles replied, kissing her cheek. “And I know you’ll be a fantastic mother, because you learned from the best.”

He saw C.C. mouth “sap” over Charity’s shoulder, and he winked back at her before releasing Charity from the hug.

They were going to be fine. This had been a minor incident, compared to some that had gone on in the Sheffield and Brightmore households.

Another little one would most definitely be welcome into the organised chaos of their lives.

“I’ll try to be,” Charity smiled. “The firm actually offers good maternity leave, and Jonah and I are going looking for a place together tomorrow.”

“Want us to come with?” C.C. offered, coming close to rub their daughter’s arm. “We can help out, give a few pointers.”

Charity and Jonah shared a smile, and Niles knew that they thought it was a good idea. They had more experience in buying somewhere to live, after all.

He was glad that they could offer the support. He’d felt the last bit of relief upon learning that the firm where Charity worked had good maternity leave. And now that everything had been talked through, he could actually relax and try to enjoy the news.

His eyebrows raised as he put an arm around C.C., “Plus, your mother likes a good argument with real estate agents.”

C.C. rolled her eyes in return, “I like to know what I’m buying.”

“Spoken like a true businesswoman,” he smirked at her. “Perhaps the baby will follow in their grandmother’s footsteps?”

She matched his expression, “Hopefully – I’d rather not imagine them taking after you.”

Niles looked unimpressed, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye as Charity began to laugh.

He was glad that, even after all these years, their zingers could still make her laugh.

“Pay no attention to your mother,” he told her with a wave of his hand, pretending to mutter discreetly. “Her mind is starting to reflect her age.”

C.C. swatted him in the chest.

“You’re older than I am, Dust Buster,” she told him, before smirking. “Just the right age to be a grandpa, as it so happens!”

Niles quirked only one eyebrow that time, “And you’re suddenly the epitome of youth?”

“Compared to you, I am!” his wife retorted.

He cocked his head to one side, “Well, if I’m so old and you’re so young, then why did you marry me?”

C.C. pretended to think about it, looking at Charity and Jonah before she gave her answer.

“Because, out of the goodness of my heart, I decided to look past how decrepit you are.”

“Of course that’s the reason,” Niles smiled wryly.

His wife shrugged, “It’s the only one I’m giving right now.”

Niles knew what that meant. It meant she had another answer that she’d only tell him in private.

He was perfectly fine with that, considering they were currently with company.

“That’s probably for the best,” he nodded, and kissed her on the cheek, before turning to address Charity and Jonah again. “Now, we might not all be able to toast with champagne, but there is a dinner on the dining room table that some of us have yet to finish, and we have a rather nice dessert waiting for us after…”

That piqued C.C.’s interest. The entire dinner had been interrupted by the announcement, and then by Niles walking off. She was probably still hungry.

But, knowing what pregnancy was like, she was obviously going to look after their little girl first.

“How about it, sweetie?” she asked Charity. “You feel like eating a little more?”

Charity thought about it, before openly grinning, “Well, I am eating for two, now…”

That delighted her mother, which in turn delighted Niles.

“That’s my girl!” he declared. And then, in perhaps the first real display of familial bonding, he turned to her boyfriend. “Jonah, what about you?”

“I could eat more,” the boy replied, nodding. Then he beamed, looking very much like his own father when he did. “I think Mom’s love of your desserts has rubbed off on me, sir.”

That made Niles feel good. No matter how much time passed and things changed, he could still produce the finest cakes and pastries the family ate.

And he’d be delighted to teach his first grandson or granddaughter, too.

“I should hope so, seeing as how both she and your grandmother combined have had enough of them to stock all the patisseries in Paris!” he began to usher them all back out of the room. “Come on, we’ll see if there’s enough left over afterwards for you to take some home.”

They went eagerly, laughing and joking and clearly ready for a proper evening meal. Niles would have to make sure there was some dessert left for Hope, who’d be home in a few hours, and Faith, who’d be home in about a day or so because the university was going to be closed for a long weekend.

He was going to look after his whole family, and he was going to try not to get overwhelmed by anything they could tell him in the future.

He could worry all he wanted, if it came from love. But he had to be understanding and supportive as well. As understanding and supportive as he had been when their girls were younger.

And perhaps, in the future, it would be the kind of support he’d give to the little one his own little one was carrying inside her.

#missbabcocks1 #the nanny #niles and cc #niles the butler #cc babcock #otp: always been bitter together #otp: butler bitch

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thewul · 5 years

Text

Predictive Dialer

Would be the Random Memories maybe

Hello boys and girls, which makes for a book that is somewhat disorderly, the work of an amnesic hacker. We can tell it like it is here, people who know about me also know that legally I don’t really exist, everything about me is shielded by secrecy, the last thing that you will know about coming from politics if you’re high up is my identity.

Of course I forgot what is it we spoke about last time which doesn’t make it the least important of course it is but there are other things that are important and that we need to go over. Because I don’t exist legally I am also beyond the pale of law, unlike army types who’s business it is to kill under the pale of law even if the law say don’t kill it becomes legal when your government tells you to.

Which you need to be in a state of war or be on a mission to protect national interests, everywhere there is the scent of law. It doesn’t mean that what I do is not legal, it means that both legal authorities and the public are not entitled to it nor is anybody else but the people that employ me.

Of course I have to eliminate people who want to disturb operations that’s how we call them operations, by getting nosy or inconsiderate and I eliminated plenty of people, it says in my job description that I have to do that. Protect national security. Protect national strategic interests. Secure assets and personnel. I kill people for that. Its not far sighted really to think that because you live in a democratic country your government will not employ people like me to eliminate you if needed, its a varnish they put on things to make them look pretty.

You can eat, drink, smoke weed and do all you want without getting in the way of certain people, agencies and agenda’s that the simple truth about it. That life is a big attraction park where you can be silly all you want. The government likes silly it won’t mind as long as you don’t cause any problems and they have the necessary resources to manage our modern age debilitating lifestyle made of smoking, drinking, drug use, partying and paying credit card fees. Make you turn old and grey with that, while a new generation is following on the same footsteps which lead always to more of the same.

Your government is the only institution that will put smoking kills on tobacco packs yet sell them everywhere because you’re as worthwhile for them as a dead rat.

To make that even more fucked up you’re up to your eyes in debt the moment you’re born, because of mismanagement by the very same people that your parents put there with their votes and soon enough yours, and I am not blaming everyone there are many politicians who do a fine job. What I am saying and that you should clearly understand is that they themselves are piling under the situation that is the planet.

We’re trapped in a situation made of individual solutions, global challenges and collective collapses. That’s why your government employs people like me, to keep fixing this mess, and the solutions won’t come from the ballot box, its an empty box to start with. Its the same thing that everyone is going to keep promising, jobs, security, the economy and you have those journalism goules who keep sucking the blood out of this situation by making it look worse than it already is. TV sets everywhere, watch TV, its a conditioning tool that we grew up with do not disturb, and if you question authority do it as a teenage rebel.

Hey you should have a word with the finance and banking types explaining to you that if you’re this and that you’re going to make that much in your lifetime generate this much in profit and pay that much in taxes. You’re already swallowed whole the moment you step into this game called society and people who hate on me they’re hating because I gamed it all. I am filthy rich, famous but not known nor a daily victim of paparazzis and the press, and very powerful, nobody I know has it quite like me.

Regarding this book its not an agent fuck it if they don’t like it high up situation, the world needs to know what we’re doing, it’s because we’re doing it for the right reasons and beyond everything there lies the collective interest. I sold collective interests to dozens of security agencies and we formed Nakashimura. The corporation that doesn’t exist. Well it does, its a tax payer number in Japan. And not much else.

Nobody is perfect you know and this not meant to make a superhero out of me, people know that I am no superhero, I am rather selfish and egoistic, my real smarts have been selling that to people, that the fact that I am selfish and egoistic is something they have use for. Everything I do is for personal gain, they let me manage the corporation where they have shares and so do I. We’re almost Jimmy Hoffa.

We covered the financing intelligence agencies by holding armament concerns, 60% of it through offshore corporations, which are owned by Nakashimura in the end. So its that much money the taxpayer doesn’t need to fork out and it’s the necessary leeway to do much more. However we can’t have the taxpayer back all of the time and we regularly take money out of his pockets by presenting Generals with new weapons systems and bankrolling their budgets at high up, higher up strings. Which Nakashimura is holding.

We need to go back to my resume out of respect for the book’s structure which we have put in place, and I think it mentioned spying. I am also a spy, a closely watched one. I steal state secrets, and I know plenty of them as a life insurance. Spying is something you do everyday, you spy on people they spy on you, you spy on the street on prices on traffic lights on celebrities, nice cars, plane passengers you spy on everything.

Its an innate activity in life that starts with childhood. I know I used to spy on ants for hours. Society is not much different if anything it is more diverse, you can still look at it from that perspective where people do have to tell you about them by what they look like, what they say and what they know. I think that as a baby you spy on titties.

Both sexes do it actually which stays as a mechanism for men to gauge femininity and thus reproductive potential, and for women as a body type and an evolution vehicle to go both ways towards a more pronounced femininity or a lesser pronounced one. That in itself serves to further their permanence as a specie, to take both options and it translates at the genome level.

I am athletic but not bulky, I have to be able to run fast and to jump into a speeding vehicle, out of it as well as in a hostage situation. What you want to do is to protect your head while sliding flat on your back on the asphalt for as long as you can regrouping to the side a little bit when you loose speed . Which sums up my attitude regarding women, I try to protect my head while sliding as long as possible. Motoko does it quite well and so do I. Relationships in general are a hostage situation.

We are conscious of these mechanisms yet we wont admit it but practice it carefully that relationships are based on interests both conscious and unconscious, expressed and not expressed, and that interest is the prime motivation. Like Gekko said greed is good, greed is the reason why you're here with us, our ancestors survived countless situations, we did as a specie, we still do with tens of thousands of nuclear warheads operable at the turn of a key. Greed is you my friend, you and I.

Greed nurtures it sure pays your bills, we are all attached by the invisible strings of capital and duty. Our duty is to the people, I am myself a product of globalized society and I sold myself as such. I told them that I could further their interests by making them my interests and when it was done I told them that we finally succeeded in having real and tangible shared interests that I now represented. And they smiled at my bizarre globalized patriotism where I sell both arms for Russia, the U.S and Iran. Making profit important. Which it is it puts food on the table.

We can argue that it is a fabrication that Nakashimura put 60% of the worlds armament industry under one hood. There exists no more secretive corporations than arms makers. I know that people will try to find out which they must its their job, but like for anything I wrote so far it is impossible to prove. And that too is one of my talents, I leave nothing behind usable in the shape of proof. My friends at the FBI are brandishing this under the nose of some judges and they won't stop doing it for as long as I exist. I am the only proof that they have.

They're telling the judges that I steal proofs and tamper with them and that it should mean the world to them but no the judges know that I work for the government. As you guessed its mostly espionage related cases where the goal is that it doesn't snowball into one. There is that window to get the case thrown if you mess up the evidence from the get go, called hot evidence, screwing up a DNA analysis result, magnetizing disk drives and such.

The judge will ask for a second analysis which the case already looks shaky because the first one failed, and even a third. Spoofing them three times on computerized and highly secure systems is a hat trick. Case gone. Magnetizing disk drives happens by having other inconsiderate ones placed next to them, not your everyday magnets too, they have some of my gear they do, they call it piling evidence, I call it lost and found. I could argue that it belongs to the government and have it returned.

Supreme Justices how did you guess, and also high up at the FBI, making the hot potato a VP maybe took the burden off their back over there and made them confident that they could prosecute me at least internally, which is the first thing I shielded myself against when signing their contract, my contract. I gave a raise to everyone, better cars and working conditions, more personnel, more IT people and facilities, more training, more time flexibility, even nicer planes. Which they keep using against me, it is the monster that I feed. Costs me a fortune that I obtained in the shape of an undisclosed budget.

Who do I spy for well mostly for myself, I have to know in my line of business what you don’t know can be harmful. It’s better to know and to know beforehand, the more insight you can gather about a situation not its aspects but its roots you can start finding the right actions to take to resolve it.

I made a reputation in being expeditive with problem makers and people thank me for that. And of course a lot if has to do with spying. The planet faces a wide range of issues which are complex and demanding, perhaps my greatest achievement has been in convincing everyone that we don’t need to add to it, it started with a few hundred individuals we knew everything about and they became tens thousands. And you know what life is better without them to put it plainly.

Human trafficking for sexual slavery is less of an issue, we killed dozens of ring leaders and their people. We did it legally with the help of legal authorities, mostly military intelligence, and an international police agency we’re not naming. Its tens of thousands of lives saved each year. And its that much work offloaded from the judicial and police systems.

The list goes on I am ruthlessly lethal with people, because leaving any of them behind is a threat to my security. I have them all killed, teams chart their organization for months, and then its over. Like they never existed. It stops making the press, and nobody will miss those shadowy underworld creatures.

Then there are other places where human trafficking as a issue is different, take Africa for example, it is deeply rooted there in daily life, killing people will do no good, its the living conditions that have to change. In China, what they call human trafficking is a well organized way out of poverty, maybe a sweatshop in the U.S paid in Dollars is better than a sweatshop in China paid in Yuan.

In the Middle East lower wage workers conditions have to improve, mindsets have to change and they are changing with new generations as the Middle East becomes more open to the world and its way of thinking. Also the people there know that media can give a lot of exposure to such issues so it is better to address them in all fairness to people who come to work and to build the society.

I am more concerned for your security than mine, because I can tell pretty much the way you’re thinking. I made a name in this business for taking no risks. The people that I killed don’t even know that I exist. I am there with the rest of government utilities, such as nuclear reactors and dams.

To get back to spying it’s got different dimensions, one of them is technological as in hacking computer systems to gather intelligence, which you can put something there a dummy can hack with plenty of false intel and follow it wherever it might lead. There is that technological infrastructure quite hidden from sight which is called the dark web. And also an ongoing technological war which sometimes escalates to sabotage.

The other dimension is human, as in human intelligence and we have signal intelligence. I make use of all three, often at the same time. The human part is attending lets play royals events and listening to what people want you to know from other agencies while looking bored.

The signal part is a specialty, I put time as a signal specialist in an navy I am not naming, and correct it was aboard a nuclear submarine. I know antennas, receptors, frequencies, encryption, its a hobby, I download people’s short messages and contacts lists when I am at some airport lounge.

If its someone I am interested in for professional reasons I am very likely to hack into his computers, email and banking accounts, smartphone and phones in general. The tablet or tablets let me inside a home I use both the camera to look around and the microphone to listen. I hack your cellphone operator to know where you are. And I also like to have a word in person as some phone support call worker. I never spy on people for personal reasons, its too much risk that I am not taking, listen I never take any risks. Risk is something that I manage not that I take.

Some people at the FBI thought they struck gold because some of my clients recorded all their calls and they found a few of mine. Until they figured out it was a computerized voice from some b movie of the 1950′s. They’re still looking for me and I would like to say hi. I guess I am some hot potato over there. From what I understand about their situation is that they deal with civilians whereas I am classified as military intelligence. They couldn’t knock at my door if they wanted.

They keep following me around I don’t know how they do that, I argued for and obtained a supersonic jet from different governments because of them. Until I figured out that they had people everywhere. I often succeed at fending them off by calling in a military escort. The fact that I am an assassin and a hacker makes them feel entitled to follow me around.

I would like to go back to the structure of the book and how we already have the books chapters, which nobody recalls now but its not important. To say that I also premeditate what I do, I do it consciously and also unconsciously, by placing people in situations from which I expect a certain outcomes. These outcomes might be operational or emotional.

As a spy I am also like that, I found out that what people fear the most is their fears, and that to become truly effective we should get rid of two things, emotions and fear. Emotions play into situations to the point that they not the goal become predominant, and fear stops you short from achieving.

To be a good spy you have to go to the goal without fear, even with confidence as you’re are walking with not your laptop from that corporation where your boss downloaded proprietary technology useful to a third party. Its 25 years of jail in a Singapore prison and you have to smile all the way to your limousine as the good high end exec that you are.

Its late already and I have business Monday, its important to look fresh. There are a lot of important things in life that one should be mindful about. One of them is timekeeping and also getting enough sleep. Nighty night.

#GITS #TPM

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fitnesshealthyoga-blog · 6 years

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New Post has been published on https://fitnesshealthyoga.com/forget-screen-time-rules-lean-in-to-parenting-your-wired-child-author-says/

Forget screen time rules: Lean in to parenting your wired child, author says

The overuse of technology has overtaken drugs, sex and bullying as the biggest parental worry, according to the annual Brigham Young and Deseret News American Family Survey.

But what are we actually supposed to be doing about it?

Jordan Shapiro, a Temple University professor whose background is in philosophy and psychology, has a prescription that might surprise you. In his new book, The New Childhood, his argument is that we’re not spending enough screen time with our kids.

“One of the things I suggest in the book is that kids should be starting on social media much younger,” he says. And, play more video games with your kids, too.

After Shapiro’s divorce, he found himself solo parenting two little boys (now 11 and 13) who were obsessed with video games. He started playing the games simply as a way to connect with them. Then he discovered connections between the emotional catharsis and interactive storytelling on the screen, and thinkers like Carl Jung and Plato. He came to realize that part of his job as a parent was to help his children make sense of their online experiences and teach them how to uphold enduring values in the new world they are living in.

Now, he thinks about the intersection of child development and digital media as a senior fellow for the Joan Ganz Cooney Center at Sesame Workshop and nonresident fellow in the Center for Universal Education at the Brookings Institution.

Shapiro spoke to NPR about his new book and approach. The following interview has been shortened and edited for clarity.

You teach the core curriculum at Temple University and helped adapt it to an online version. How do your studies inform your thinking about YouTube and Facebook?

My background is ancient philosophy. I think we have very few new values. I love the old stuff — Plato and Homer. All the world’s great religions have tons of wisdom to offer us in a changing world. We need to figure out how to apply how they lived to a very different time and place. If you look historically — let’s say every hundred years, there’s these huge transitions that require giant adaptations so [the old ways] are still meaningful.

You talk in the book about how a lot of expert advice focuses on simply limiting the screens, but that doesn’t help us teach our kids how to make that kind of transition or that adaptation, to interact ethically in the digital world.

Right. People are trying to do things like device-free dinner because they are scared of the way work and home have enmeshed.

Home was safe, and now these devices bring the entire world inside. Are your kids home or are they in Fortnite? They’re here and somewhere else — in the ugly agora and within the beautiful picket fence.

But it’s good to have some respite from the outside world and the digital world, right?

Sure. We have family dinner in our house. It’s mostly device-free. No one should be watching YouTube videos the whole time. But most of the time we have conversations that necessitate pulling up a YouTube video or Googling something to make a point.

They’re not going to learn good date behavior if they’ve never had a phone before.

How are we going to maintain those positive things, the compassion, ethics, good social skills and intimate relationships, if we’re teaching them to live in a world that doesn’t look like the world they’re living in?

Can you give some more concrete examples of how you teach kids to maintain positive values in the digital world?

Let’s take violent video games. All tools should be facilitating our ability to create a more meaningful, more just world. Sometimes our children are going to seek out violent games.

And we teach them violence is bad, but playing violent make-believe isn’t necessarily bad.

Do you still play video games with your kids? What do you do if you’re just not a gamer? I’m not.

Not as much, because they’re much better than me now. But I still talk to them about it; I ask them to show me what they’re playing; I’ll watch them. I’ll tease them and say, this looks stupid, explain to me why you’re interested. You can tell them the reasons you don’t like it, as long as it’s a conversation and not a scolding.

We teach them how to make sense of the narratives they construct. Whether you’re talking about video games or social media or YouTube, how do you enable them to construct a meaningful narrative in relationship to these artifacts?

And your approach seems to be kind of like the Socratic method — you ask questions.

That’s part of it, yes. So my sons are into these YouTube videos where kids open toys. It’s the most disgusting representation of consumerism I can imagine. Just a terrible kind of video.

It’s incredibly popular too — in fact an 8-year-old with a toy channel was the top moneymaker on YouTube last year.

Right. I don’t think, ‘Oh it shouldn’t exist.’ I’m in favor of free speech. But then if my kids watch it, I want to have the conversation about why I find this attitude so weird and problematic, and I want to teach them to think about it that way. So now after having lots of these conversations, the first thing they do with every YouTube video they watch is ask, who paid for it, what are they trying to sell me?

So the idea is that they internalize your ethical voice?

We spend their entire lives teaching them how to share, how to get along. The alternative is throwing 20 kids into a room, locking the door, and saying don’t worry, they’ll end up hugging. That’s kind of what we do when we put a hormonal prepubescent on social media for the first time.

And this is why you say kids should be starting on social media much younger than they are?

If we want to get rid of the horrible stuff happening on Twitter right now, then we need to model it for kids when they’re 7 and all they want to do is be like their parents. I think we should have church groups and sports teams, small social media groups, so adults can model what to do. Or large families can have a family social network. You can share pictures and maybe you do gently tease someone, so they see the difference between kind and mean teasing.

This came up recently in one of my conversations with a 16-year-old girl and her mother. She was exasperated that all her aunts were following her on Instagram, using her childhood nickname, leaving embarrassing comments, but her mother was happy to have so many people looking out for her.

I learned to be able to have a civil argument at holiday dinners. I watched my parents, uncles and aunts have political arguments, with love and kindness, also sarcasm and also teasing. That’s how I know how to do it at a dinner table.

The American Academy of Pediatrics supports this idea of joint media engagement, basically engaging alongside your kids, as you suggest, whether with games, videos or social media. But isn’t there such a thing as too much screen time?

When people talk about addiction, I think it’s weird we want to blame the digital media because you can form unhealthy relationships with lots of things — food, sex, work, money.

And what we do is we try to teach people how to not develop those relationships.

We don’t blame the eating, sex, work or money itself.

And what I’m often trying to explain is that we’re seeing unhealthy relationships because we’re leaving our kids to figure it out on their own.

We’re using screens as a babysitter.

There’s an interesting study that recently came out that looked at how parents and young children were interacting around devices. It showed that this joint media engagement is not happening.

Most interactions are negotiations about how much to use, or tech support kinds of things. And almost no discussion of what they’re actually doing on the screen, and when it is discussed it’s usually initiated by the kids.

I feel like part of the problem is that parents are getting essentially abstinence-only education, like in sex education. The research on that says, if all you hear is, “Just say no,” it has no positive effects.

Nobody actually thinks we’re going to have a world without [tech]. They’re aiming for that healthy relationship. A healthy relationship is you being able to have the autonomy to make good decisions. That’s what we’re trying to teach our kids — to make those decisions. If we make it all about here’s the restrictions, the on/off switch mentality, that doesn’t teach them to make smart, autonomous decisions.

NPR is partnering with Sesame on a new podcast called Life Kit. Much like Jordan Shapiro’s new book, it will provide overviews of problems or questions in areas where NPR has deep expertise — starting with personal finance, health and wellness, and parenting.

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#health news usa #latest health news usa #us public health news #Health News

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dat-imagine-tho · 8 years

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Mine

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Warnings: Language

A/N: Gif is not mine. Requested by a lovely anon: The reader has always been Draco’s girl. This princess. One day at a Malfoy banquet one of his cousins tries it on with her. I have slightly changed it from the prompt, it’s actually at a wedding instead

Today was a happy occasion; food, friends and love. This was a wedding after all.

Draco may not have been originally keen on going, but after much good-natured persistence by you, he happily obliged. Although, it was mainly factored towards his inability to not do things that made you happy. He acted as if it weren't his cousin's wedding.

You were surprised to receive an invitation at first but the shock dissipated given the fact that Teddy Lupin was a true Hufflepuff through and through. The guy had a big heart when it came to giving people the benefit of the doubt and loving unconditionally; he got the best of both his mother and father.

Earlier that morning, you had spent the time getting ready, Draco took almost no time at all, you on the other hand had to perfect your routine, which you eventually had.

Entering the front room of the house ready to leave you called out to your husband. There was something about dressing up in formal clothes that makes everyone look great.

That still didn't prepare you for when a rather handsome Draco stepped out in his black suit, white dress shirt, black tie and shoes to match. You looked away bashfully, afraid you would be judged for staring.

Draco stopped in the doorway before turning his head towards you standing in the adjacent room. Seeing you quite literally took his breath away. Eyeing you up and down as he made his way over to you. A blush made its way to your face when he had said, "Hey beautiful, you look absolutely sexy in that dress."

The wedding was spectacular, you would forgive anyone who thought that this wedding was a real life fairytale. From the colour scheme, atmosphere, and right down to the tiniest details of fairy lights and the cobblestone footpath immersing every guest straight into a children's story book.

Following the succession of the ceremony the guests were ushered into a snow-white tent with even more fairy lights raining down from the roof. The wedding guests began the search for their assigned seats.

Draco was unimpressed. This look was plastered on his face the moment he realised the table in which you sat was shared with Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione and a medium-length black haired young man roughly the same age as Draco with a blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes.

You nudged your husband gently and gave him a sad, pleading look begging him to be nice for your sake. He reluctantly obliged to, at the very least, not to say any snide comments or go out of his way to be rude. This did not mean that he would act happy when he wasn't, nor did it mean he would engage in friendly conversations with his old classmates, especially Potter.

An awkward start was quickly swept away when the girl two seats down on your right had introduced herself, "Hello, I'm Emily Gibbs." She smiled politely at you, she had such a warm welcome and you were instantly drawn to her. "Hi, I'm (y/n)," you replied back with a matched politeness. "What's your relation to the bride or groom?" She asked. "I'm with Draco, Teddy is his second cousin." You smiled at her.

Cutting in, the dark-haired boy to your right answered "I'm Malfoy, Acacius Malfoy." In an almost offended gesture, as if he couldn't believe you hadn't already taken notice of him. He peered through his dark hair with his piercing blues looking you up and down, taking you in.

Unknowingly, Draco smiled at him, "I haven't seen you since we were, what? Nine years old?"

"Yes, back when we played quidditch on your property." He replied.

"During school break, I remember." Draco added.

After a long sip of his water, Acacius took his time in responding, "Uncle Lucius gifted you with your first broom, second to top of the range. The newest model wasn't available in London, yet. Of course, my Father had my broom imported. Unsurprisingly, I kicked your arse." His voice was the only thing ringing throughout your table.

Ginny sat picking at her food not giving anyone eye contact. You were taken aback by his comments but tried to remain polite. "It was only by one point. We would have had a fair match had we had the same broom." Draco, despite being irritated by the fact he was being made a fool of especially in front of Harry, kept his voice friendly, although verging on his true emotions. It was a testament to how much he cared for you, by keeping his promise.

"You're only as good as your broom, I suppose." The clatter of cutlery clinked as Draco's distant cousin began eating his food. Harry chocked slightly on his water he had been nervously sipping. Ginny was furious and had every right to be, she was a fantastic quidditch player in her own right and knew finances was not the only component to a great player. Ron's mouth was agape, he could not believe someone had a go at Draco. Hermione although shocked herself, elbowed Ron for his undignified expression.

After an awkward silence, conversation picked up from whispers between Ginny and Harry, Hermione joining in as well. Ron was listening while scoffing down his food, Draco sat glaring at his plate picking at some chicken, while you were trying to work up the courage to speak to Emily again. Looking over at her she smiled at you, returning the favour you smiled back which then initiated the conversation between the two of you.

The conversation was going well until Acacius wormed his way into it, taking control. You could tell that Draco, despite being related to him, was liking him less and less, the whole table in fact was liking him less and less. He seemed to gain more confidence the more he heard his own voice. At one moment he winked at Ginny, who just glared back, that didn't seem to affect his ego at all.

As he continued to talk he rested his arm on your chair. Draco immediately tensed, shooting him a dangerous look, you on the other hand were taken aback. He seemed to ignore Hermione altogether. 'What a dick!' You thought, you had encountered his type before. 'Poor, Emily. She's so nice and he's so...' You went to offer Emily a sympathetic smile, she was not looking. She seemed shunned to silence by her partner.

Tension continued to grow so you leant over to Draco asking him to get you another drink, hoping this would ease things from boiling over. Muttering under his breath he left the table to get a drink for you at the bar.

"So, you're Draco's girl then, can't say I ever pictured him with someone like you," Acacius spoke up.

Already this conversation was extremely awkward, "He's a really sweet, caring guy I fell in love with." He laughed, causing you to grit your teeth.

"I assume you two are together, then?" He asked Ginny about her and Harry. "Happily married," Harry replied coldly, wanting nothing more than this idiot to leave.

The self-titled charmer looked to Ron and Hermione this time, "And you two, blind date gone wrong?"

"Wait, just a minute!" Ron began but was cut off by Hermione,

"How dare you!"

At that moment Teddy appeared at the table unaware of the conversation's turn, "Hey, how is everyone tonight? Thank you so much for coming, dessert is on the way." Just as he had spoken it a wait staff came behind him and began placing beautiful looking chocolate mud cake slices with vanilla bean ice-cream in front of each guest and leaving one in the vacant seat belonging to Draco.

Emily pardoned herself with the excuse of getting herself a drink, you could tell by the telltale signs of her still full glass on the table that she was overwhelmed by the current events.

You internally groaned when the voice you began to hate spoke again this time really close to your ear, "You know, Draco just does anything you ask. Just folds and does whatever you say like an obedient pup." By this time you closed your eyes in distress, you had an intuition that there was something very off, most likely dangerous about this man.

Almost like how a predator swoops in on prey seeing how Draco was still absent he continued "If you ever want to be with a real man, we can always slip out now to somewhere and I can show you everything you're missing." Your skin crawled, you felt sick to your stomach.

"Don't talk to my wife like that!" You snapped your head over to see Draco had returned, the look he wore would be absolutely frightening if you hadn't been so grateful for his timing. Acacius stood up quickly, knocking his chair over, "What are you gonna do about it? Come on, I'll kick your arse!" He rushed towards Draco, but the other man stood his ground as they squared off. Both men pulled out their wands and aimed it at the other.

You and Emily exchanged looks, non-verbally agreeing, looking back to the two men who acted more like boys you lifted your wands. Emily targeting her boyfriend, you targeting Draco. In an instant both of their wands flew from their hands and into both Emily's and yours.

Harry, Ron and even Teddy stood before Acacius, "I think it's best you leave!" Teddy sneered.

Being obviously outnumbered, the horrid man left still with an air of arrogance around him.

"What a wanker," Ron stated while going back and sitting next to Hermione.

The guests settled and began going back to their conversations.

The music changed from a soft melody wafting in the background, to fill the tent with a lively ambience. Teddy and his new wife took the floor in a confident and elegant choreograph.

Guests were being encouraged to join in the festivities. Couples and friends alike made their way to the dance floor. Draco offered his hand to you, you blushed and accepted it as he lead you to the dance floor.

He twirled you majestically, then resting his hand on your hip, you placed your hand softly on his broad shoulder, and your other hand had enclasped in Draco's.

As you danced with the man you loved you saw something that contributed to the smile on your face; Emily was dancing with Neville. You rested your head on your husband as you rocked back and forth slowly.

Towards the end of the song you looked into Draco's eyes, completely in the moment. "I love you so much (y/n), I fall more and more in love with you every day, and I still can't believe you said 'I do', to me."

You smiled, "I can't picture my life without you. I love you too."

You stopped dancing only for a moment so that Draco could speak these words, "You remind me of a fairy tale in that dress you're wearing."

You added laughing "Well, I guess that makes you my knight in shining armour." Draco smiled and looked slightly away in thought before looking back to you, "You've always been my princess."

Kissing him lightly on the nose, "You've never treated me than anything less, I don't want to ever be with anyone else."

"You'll always be mine," Draco promised before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

More? (x)

#Draco Malfoy #Reader #insert #fanfiction #imagine #short #story #fan fiction

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norafinds · 8 years

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ATWWV - Laila Shalimar

Third post of the Around The World With Vintage and I cannot be more excited for you to read this. Today I would like to introduce you to the Australian-Pakistani pin up Midcentury Mermaid aka Laila Shalimar. I was really excited when I discovered Laila as she is definitely the perfect person to feature on this series. I started this series because I wanted to talk to vintage wearers about culture, nationalities, and identities. Laila has the most fascinating stories growing up in Pakistan and moving to Australia at 16. I thought it would great for me (and you) to learn about Pakistan and its history. I asked her about the Westernised Pakistan that I've seen in vintage photographs as well as her views on being a Desi woman and a pin up girl.

Hi Laila, tell us a little bit about you!

My name is Laila Shalimar. I am a twenty something tattooed pinup of colour from Western Australia. When I am not working one of my two reception jobs, you can find me in the library of Edith Cowan University where I am a student of Criminology and Counter Terrorism. I am passionate about writing and the art of storytelling. Being able to speak 2 languages other than English, linguistics have always been a source of comfort for me. The written word has been a source of solace during some of the most isolating and vulnerable moments of my life and I am grateful to be able to share my experiences with others through the power of writing. I have had some of my pieces published by magazines such as Adore Pinup Magazine, Retro Vintage Review, Damsel Magazine, Dircksey and I hope to continue writing for as long as my mind will let me tell stories.

What is your racial and cultural background?

Because I don’t have an Anglo Australian accent, I often get people asking me where I am “really from”. This is usually after a long and embarrassing guessing game where every country but Pakistan is thrown in as a possibility. I dread these kind of interactions because it makes me feel like my accent, name and appearance prevents me from being considered “Aussie” and also because I never know how people will react to my “identity story”. For one thing, I never know whether they are asking about my ethnicity/race or where I have lived before I moved to Australia. First and foremost, I consider myself a Desi Australian. I was born in Peshawar, Pakistan to a Muslim Pashtun father and a mother of mixed Indo European ancestry. I grew up between Karachi, Islamabad, and Peshawar. I have also lived in the UK and briefly in some parts of Europe. Because I went to an English Grammar school for most my life and was practically raised on American cable, I have a very American sounding accent. I moved to Australia with my family in 2013 and have lived here ever since. Because I was sixteen at the time, I never managed to pick up an Australian accent.

People make the mistake of assuming that “Pakistani” is a racial or ethnic identity when it is merely a nationality. Pakistan is a small country that only came into existence in 1947. Prior to that it was part of the Indian subcontinent and fell under the British Raj. My father’s generation was the first generation to be born in Pakistan. My grandparents were born in British India as it was called. Pakistan hosts a multitude of races and ethnicities much like Australia does and many of us refer to ourselves as Desi or “of the motherland/subcontinent”. I like to think of myself as a Desi Australian because I have a very mixed ethnic background, most of which can be traced to the Indian subcontinent. I value all these beautiful aspects of my ethnicity and often wonder what stories lie hidden in my genes. In my appearance I see a kaleidoscope- as time progresses and my features change, I cannot help but wonder about the ancestors in the obscured and missing branches of my family tree.

First prime minister and first lady of Pakistan during their US visit. The two have been credited for the Pakistan Movement that gained the country its independence. Photo by unknown, provided by US Department of State as part of the album "Visit of his Excellency Liaquat Ali Khan, Prime Minister of Pakistan, to the United States of America, May 3 to May 26, 1950." (Missouri Digital Heritage) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Tell us about your family and your childhood

My mother was 25 when she had me. She had only been married to my father for a year and they lived in a teeny tiny little studio apartment in Peshawar in a “not so desirable” part of town. My mother said she spent a lot of her pregnancy reading and eating tropical fruits. The day I made my entry into the world, she had been reading Valley of the Dolls and eating pomegranates and rock melon. It was a scorching 39 degrees and they had no air conditioning in their apartment. I was born on the 12th of June 1987, in the middle of a heatwave, in a small maternity home at 3pm in the afternoon. My parents did not know they were expecting a daughter and in a society that valued a male heir so strongly, my birth went largely unnoticed outside my immediate family. I was given an old Persian name that I wish I could share with your readership because it has the most delicate sound when pronounced correctly. I was raised in a household full of books, laughter, kitchen table science experiments and the concept of a Ubiquitous but loving God who didn’t care whether I prayed to him in the customary Arabic or my mother tongue of Pashto. I was raised to ask questions and my parent’s ensured they always answered truthfully and to the best of their knowledge.

I was soon joined by two siblings, a brother and a sister and we lived a pretty happy and carefree life amidst the political turmoil of Pakistan’s 90s. I grew up worshipping The Spice Girls, swooning over Nick Carter from the Backstreet Boys, having slumber parties with my schoolmates where we watched movies like Clueless and Never been kissed over and over while painting our toenails bright blue. Summer vacations were spent finding inventive ways to stay cool during ”load-shedding” (where an entire suburb loses power for a week at a time), trips to the British Council Library in Islamabad to borrow books like Matilda and the BFG, eating gola ghanda (local shaved ices) with the other neighbourhood kids and going on long road trips to see our grandparents in Peshawar. And in the background of my childhood and early teens governments were sworn in, governments were kicked out. Each party made promises it would not or could not keep before being replaced in some kind of political ousting. Sometimes there would be Union strikes that would result in school being called off for a few days and we would grow bored and restless indoors waiting to get back to our schoolyard and our friends. Pakistan in the 90s was the best bits of the west and the east tossed together like Chaat Masala on fries, coca cola with Naan Kebab, and Friday prayers after the Power Puff Girls marathon. Had I known what was to follow in the years to come, I would have committed more to memory.

I feel like my life can neatly be divided into two parts: pre and post 9/11. The collapse of the Twin Towers on September 11th and the so called “War on Terror” that followed had a major impact on the world I lived in. While Pakistan has by no means known peace and tranquility in its short existence thanks to our politicians, our military and our religious right, this time the instability was coming from politicians in an office more than 12,000 KM away from us. In war, they say, it is children that become the first casualties of damage physical and spiritual. The thing that will haunt me for the rest of my life are the tired eyes of small Afghan children attempting to sleep in strange doorsteps on freezing winter mornings. It was October when they first started piling into Peshawar, children no older than 5 or 6 unaccompanied by parents in the back of trucks huddling together like chickens roosting. The local hospitals were full of children with injuries from shellings, shrapnel embedded in limbs that often needed amputation, sometimes with very little anaesthetic. Often times the littlest ones would perish due to chest infections left unattended. Our country did not have the finances nor the infrastructure to take on the sheer volume of refugees that were making their way across the Khyber Pass once more. Aid arrived from the UN at a snail’s pace and the US happily wrote off these people as “collateral damage” forgetting that they were the children and family of the men and women who fought the Russians for them in the 80s.

My mother and grandmothers helped where they could by organising “khairaat” (charity food) but there was never enough food to stave off hunger just as there would never be enough comfort for children displaced in the middle of the night. I remember hearing a doctor ask an Afghan boy of maybe six what he wanted to be when he grew up in an attempt to distract him from the tetanus shot he was about to receive. The boy with big fat tears rolling down his cheek replied that he wanted to be “a grown up” and look after his mother who was still “back home”. Things like these hurt to think about even a decade later. I was 15 then but when I look back I feel as if I was watching the world with old eyes. I feel younger now than I did then somehow. Perhaps it is because I am now watching the same things happen from far away, on a television set that I have the luxury to switch off. Some nights I think about that boy and his mother, and other children I saw on my way to my grandmother’s house or our in Baara Market. I can switch off the Tv but the human mind refuses to co operate in the same way.

How did your family decide to move to Australia? How was the experience like for all of you?

Shortly after my 15th birthday I fell into a deep and unshakeable depression. It manifested itself in very violent and angry behaviour. I got into numerous physical fights, refused to hand in assignments and spent most of my time in the school library reading instead of attending classes. I remember thinking of the futility of education when it was likely that we would all end up dead at the flick of a button. What was the point of calculus, social studies and human biology in the event of an all out World War like they kept talking about on TV when I went home every evening sulking, writing terribly morose journal entries in my diary and crying myself to sleep. I could not eat because of constant anxiety and made several attempts to end my own life when it got out of hand. My parent’s sensed that the environment I was in was causing me great distress. They were also extremely worried about the political circumstances in Pakistan and what it meant for my father’s job and our futures. My parents had applied for American, Canadian, Dutch and Australian visas. The interview processes were often followed by months of silence and then rejection letters. In January 2003, I was 6 months shy of my 16th birthday, due to sit my O level exams and had completely stopped attending school altogether. My parents were frantic. What future was there for a woman in Pakistan especially if she didn’t even have a basic high school graduation? They tried over and over to talk to me about my poor performance at school and my lacklustre behaviour at home but to no avail. I was not living, merely surviving day to day, waiting for something to drop on my house or hurt someone I loved. It was an awful time for me.

On the 11th of March 2004 at 2pm in the afternoon, I was at home with my father who was reading a newspaper in the living room. I remember every detail of this day because that was the day the mailman brought the one envelope that changed the rest of my life. I cannot remember if it was from the Australian Embassy or whether it was from my father’s colleague who had ties to the embassy but I remember him opening the envelope, reading its contents several times before looking like he was going to throw up. “As of tomorrow” he said “I want you to start considering options for your future. Australia is a very competitive country with very intelligent people and you’re going to need to be on top of your class to go to their Universities”. That was it. We were moving to Australia. My family had been granted a 5 year multiple visa and with it came the option of residency and citizenship. The only catch was that we had to be in Australia by the 5th of May. We had little under 2 months to move across continents and start a new life.

With a suitcase and a backpack each, we said our final goodbyes to family and relatives at Peshawar Airport. One of my father’s work colleagues accompanied us to the terminal gates. They had been friends since college. I heard from my mother several years later that he had been assassinated. Rumour was that someone from a rival political party had decided to take a hit out on him to ensure a district election win. The more I think about things like this, the more I take comfort in the workings of Australia’s political and legal system. It is by no means perfect but the safety it offers those of us who are lucky enough to yield it is comforting.

Does your love of vintage stem from your cultural background?

There is a Pashtun saying that our home comes alive in our stories. That is to say our histories and therefore our cultural identity provides us with a sense of belonging or home and this really resonates with me. My family moved to Australia on such short notice, with such little time on our hands that there was never any closure. We barely brought anything with us to the new country to remember it by. I never got to say goodbye properly to my life, my family or friends. I was under the impression that our move was temporary and that I would one day return to my life as I left it. Nearly 14 years have passed and I have not visited “home”. I have lost grandparents, schoolmates, and relatives. Shops, restaurants and parks I went to as a child have been reduced to rubble or ruin. People have moved on. The Pakistan I felt safe in, the Pakistan I grew up in is like a little figurine in a snow globe, a place frozen in time, in a little bubble of reminiscence. There is no reclaiming it nor will I be able to return to those carefree and happy times.

We have seen numerous articles about how Westernised Pakistan was before the 1980s. Is there a lot of vintage now in Pakistan? Do people hold on to those memorabilia or were they destroyed?

One of my favourite pieces of furniture back home was a chest of drawers that my mother had as a teenager in the 1970s. The drawers were part of an old deco set that my maternal grandparents were given as a wedding gift. In the topmost drawer, underneath some very “groovy” 60s lining paper was a little peace symbol, “Janis Joplin forever” and my mother’s initials. When I inherited the bedroom set at 13, my mother showed me this little bit of graffiti and said “When I was a teenager, i wrote this in the drawer to piss your grandmother off”. I was equal parts mesmerised and weirded out. My mother was once a teenager who liked scribbling on furniture to make her mother angry. When I recounted this story in my year 12 drama class, my classmates attempted to discredit me. In their minds it was impossible to believe that a teenager that lived in 1970s Pakistan had ever heard of Janis Joplin. The Pakistan they had heard of in pre social media 2003 was the one overrun by the Taliban and women in blue burqas. It was hard for them to comprehend the Pakistan my parents grew up in.

My father fondly recounts stories of his American Hippie friends whom he met in Peshawar restaurants en route to Kabul. They had been traveling from India and wanted to visit the Bamiyan Buddha statues in Afghanistan. Pakistan was an important destination on what was called the "hippie trail" – an overland route taken by young western backpackers between 1967 and 1979 that ran from Turkey, across Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan and India, usually ending in Nepal. Numerous low-budget hotels and a thriving tourist industry sprang up (in Peshawar, Lahore and Karachi) to accommodate these travellers. The hippie trail began eroding after the 1977 military coup in Pakistan, the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran and the beginning of the Afghan civil war (in 1979).

My father delighted in telling me stories of discos and cinemas in Kabul and how he and his cousins would go on weekend trips to buy the latest in American style fashion from the markets there. I have seen photos of my mum in smart embroidered Kaftans wearing ridiculously wide bell bottom trousers topped off with big round sunnies. Like many teenage Pakistani girls of her time, my mother’s fashion choices were influenced by the 1974 box-office hit Miss Hippie. A cautionary tale of sorts, the film depicted the "effect hippie lifestyle and fashion were having on Pakistani youth" but ironically this movie seemed to draw more and more youngsters into the hippie fashion scene. When my parents and my relatives talk on skype its not long before the conversation turns to “the good ol days in Pakistan” and if I had not seen the photos with my own eyes I too would have thought they were lying to me. Live music, great food, lots of booze and dancing were the hallmarks of the scene in cities like Karachi and Lahore. Sadly, a lot of the amazing venues and attractions they spoke so lovingly about were closed down by Military Dictator Zia Ul Haq’s government in April 1977.

[Hippie trail into Aghanistan] - By Karte: NordNordWest, Lizenz: Creative Commons by-sa-3.0 de, CC BY-SA 3.0 de, Link

Is there any Pakistani vintage piece that you covet?

There are 3 pieces that I hold very dear to me that I managed to bring with me from Pakistan. The first is a pair of gold earrings my grandmother wore at one of her wedding events in the 50s. My mother wore the very same earrings to her engagement party in 1985 and I wore them as part of my day wear for Miss Pinup Australia 2016. The second is a pair of italian leather shoes my grandmother pestered my grandfather to buy her from Bata Shoes in the late 60s. The number of times they have been cobbled and resoled is incredible! I still wear them in photo shoots from time to time. The last and most important piece to me is my grandmothers rosary. My grandfather had bought her the rosary when he went to Mecca to pay pilgrimage in the early 60s. They are made of a strange kind of early plastic that glows in the dark. My grandmother would constantly be clicking the beads of the rosary, passing each through her nimble calloused fingers, reading short passages from the Quraan. She was hardly ever seen without them. The last time I saw her, she was sitting in front of an old gas heater all misty eyed with her rosary in her hand. When I sat next to her tying my shoelaces, she looked at me and said “i want you to borrow this rosary from me for now but remember to bring it back with you from Australia”. My grandmother passed away two years ago. The rosary has been on my night stand for 14 years, i never got a chance to return it to her.

Are there many Desi women in the vintage scene?

I think there have always been a number of us interested in vintage in some form of the other but the problem has always been exposure to our history and one another. With the advent of social media platforms such as instagram and facebook, we have started becoming more visible. It has become easy to find treasure troves of images, articles and videos from the bygone days showcasing our unique cultures. I know of several vintage loving Desi women that I met on autonomous Women of Colour spaces but wouldn’t have otherwise met because they are self conscious of how they look in vintage. The fact that the presentation of vintage culture and pin up culture is so euro and anglocentric makes a lot of pinups of colour, particularly darker skinned and more ethnic looking pinups feel too self conscious to put themselves out on social media. They often feel like they are “doing it wrong”. Our features and even our vintage ethnic fashion don’t readily fall into the already pre ordained and celebrated vintage or pinup look. An example of this is how coveted pale and almost snowy white skin is in the vintage community. Darker skinned Desi women are already maligned in their own communities for their complexions, and yet are indirectly made to feel unwanted and unattractive in their beloved subculture as well. It is harder for Desi pinups to gain visibility and popularity on social media because history has never placed us in a position to be thought about or considered desirable or conventionally attractive.

Do you find it difficult to be a Desi woman in the pin up industry? Do you think people are surprised that Desi women can and want to be sexy?

I remember when I raised the issue of the lack of diversity in Pinup and vintage publications in Adore Pinup Magazine last year. There was a slough of accusations thrown at myself and the magazine. I was labelled everything from a “reverse racist”, to “a toxic negative nancy”, to a “jealous and ungrateful pinup” all for that one article that discussed the need for change in the Australian vintage scene and the global pinup industry. Apparently, if you are a Desi woman, or a woman of colour, you are expected to be grateful for the one or two token pinups of colour a magazine publishes a year. God forbid you raise hell over the lack of diversity you see in the vintage scene or if you attempt to claim an autonomous online space to celebrate women like yourself. I was lucky that the editor of Adore Pinup Magazine, Brianna Blackheart, addressed the issues I discussed in the article publicly on all of Adore’s social media platforms and backed me up in my arguments. I don’t think I would have continued writing about these issues without her support so early on in my writing.

As far as creating Desi and PoC representation in vintage and pinup goes, the conservative desis in the community feel that I am too racy, too vocal and too sexual to “appropriately” represent Desi femininity while the conservative non PoC feel that I am trying to create a “racial divide” by working on projects such as Pinups of Colour that exclusively celebrates racially and ethnically diverse pinup communities. There is no winning! I feel like people want women like myself to pick a very narrow and carefully constructed box and sit in it very quietly. Every now and then a nice whitewashed hand will come in and either grab my ethnic outfits to be appropriated and if I am VERY good and quiet I will be paraded around like a ventriloquist's dummy parroting phrases that implying (non existent) diversity in the scene. I am sorry but I cannot do that. I refuse to shrink myself to make other people feel comfortable by helping to maintain a status quo and it is just as well as I find it impossible to follow guidelines in order to fit into these boxes anyway!

Staff and students of St Patrick's Teachers' Training College, Karachi, 1956. You can see that for some time during the 1950s-1970s Pakistan strongly adopted Western fashion and culture - Source - Wikimedia Commons.

How did you start wearing vintage? Have you been back since? How do you think you will be accepted there with your tattoos and your look?

I will be honest, I spent my teenage years riddled with insecurity and self doubt because I was one of the few ethnic Desi girls in my predominantly white high school. I stuck out like a sore thumb and at a time where there was a growing mistrust of people from Muslim countries, I was either isolated by my peers or ostracised by them. Vintage clothing gave me a way to feel comfortable with a body that at times felt like a battlefield. As a new migrant whose parents didn’t have much of an income, op-shopping was equal parts necessity and thrill! Much like vintage fashion, tattoos have helped me embrace my body. I wouldn’t say all my tattoos have stories behind them but a vast majority of them were inspired by moments in my life where I felt something move me to my core. I view my body as a passport and see each tattoo as a little stamp for moments in my journey, from my darkest moments to the happier ones.

Tattooing in the Indian subcontinent is not unheard of but it isn’t as common as it is in Australia. This is partly due to conservative culture in countries with little separation between church and state. Tribal facial tattoos were common among the early pagan Pashtuns, however, my ethnic group gave up these customs upon the advent of Arab Islam in the 12th century. While some tribal women in Pakistan’s far north still practise stick and poke facial tattooing, a manual method involving charcoal pigment being inserted into the skin using hand fashioned bone needles, tattooing as a Pashtun art form is almost non existent these days. When our tattooing history is brought up in conversations nowadays, our people refer to that period in our history as the “dark ages” and dismiss the practise as uncivilised. As I haven’t visited Pakistan since starting my body modification journey, I really don’t know how people would react to my body art or style of dressing. I suppose it would be no different to how tattooed ladies got treated in the 20s and 30s in America or Australia!

What is the one thing you want people to know about you?

I am one of those people who is passionate about social justice issues, particularly issues pertaining to the representation and rights of people of colour. Sometimes this passion is severely misread as spiteful. I am angry. Of course! How can you not be angry in this day and age when women, especially women of colour, receive the short end of the stick? My anger derives from hurt, from isolation and from the yearning to have my identity recognised as valid. It is frustrating to be denied representation in the subcultures I love. It is disappointing to be overlooked on the basis of appearance. It is heartbreaking to be denied a space in my own ethnic and cultural group because I defy convention. I am angry but I am not doing it to be spiteful. I am doing it because nice women seldom make history. There are some people who have the luxury to stand by idly and watch the world plummet into darkness. I do not have this luxury. It’s not in my nature nor is it in my favour to do so. Besides, I would much rather be a cactus than a wallflower any day.

#norafinds #around the world with vintage #atwwv #interview #series #blog #pakistan #pakistani #australian #australia #pin up #midcentury mermaid #laila shalimar

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holisticpassport · 8 years

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Eventually

I’ve been pretty terrible with keeping up with happenings in my life the past few months. I’m going through a lot of mental changes, trying to work through challenges in the healthiest ways possible, but it’s becoming exhausting trying to balance life when there seems to be no scale to even put all of this garbage I’m being handed into. I don’t want this post to be negative even though that’s all I feel right now. Australia itself is an incredible country—absolutely stunning scenery, an incredible city with loads to do, every person I’ve met has been a fantastic human being, and I really do love it here. I wish the surrounding factors wouldn’t affect my time here as much as they are. So much so to the point that almost every day I am in tears or wishing I even had the funds to fly home because I feel so defeated and beat down by the weight of finances and relationships.

At the beginning, I put all my eggs in a basket with one guy, and for the extremely short but blissful time I had with him exploring Australia and thinking I was so lucky, I knew it wouldn’t last, hard as I tried to fight that notion off. The transparency of up front expectations should’ve been enough to keep my heart and head in check, but it wasn’t, and I’m paying for it. I allowed myself to be vulnerable in ways I hadn’t even with long term partners which I shouldn’t have done, so this pain is completely my own fault. It’s going to take a while to put my head back on straight from it. Normally I’d cut and dye my hair, have some bottles of wine with girlfriends, and scout out my next boy-toy. Right now I actually feel like wounded puppy hiding in the corner, covered in mud. I have people I could run to and mask the pain with physicality, but I’m purely not interested in anyone else right now, and I think I need to sit with that for a bit before letting someone else in, learn a lesson from it, and move on. I'm sure in a few weeks I'll look back at this and think I'm silly.

I also let the girl I traveled with out of my life. In ways, we were toxic to each other even though we shared an incredible experience together. Drinking would get in the way of logical thinking, cause me to do things I normally wouldn’t do to unintentionally hurt her, but in turn she would gossip incessantly to people about me, so I made the decision for both of us to separate and rid ourselves of the troubling negativity. I love her dearly…she nor I are bad people, we just can’t be in each other’s lives at this current stage.

I found work as a barista at the Melbourne Cricket Ground. I really enjoy making the perfect coffee. It’s a passion and art. I wish I could pick up more shifts, but until football season picks up in March it’s only 1 or 2 shifts a week. I also just began waitressing at a small restaurant in a very posh area in North Richmond (an hour away by tram from my current location). It’s an upscale American BBQ place called Meat Mother. While I enjoy it because the menu is easy and it’s fast paced, I absolutely hate the food industry and quit two previous jobs vowing to never go back into it, but here I am because I’m desperate for money.

Again with my housing situation, I would like to be leaving within the next few weeks, but that all depends on my next moves. Do I really want to stay in the city? Do I want to try and pursue farm work like I originally intended now that the idea of a potential relationship isn’t holding me back? Do I work until I have enough money to catch a flight home or even back to Vietnam to pursue teaching like I planned? Do I do something totally ballsy and unexpected and hop on a prawn collecting ship as a cook for 3 months and make 20k in 3 months? You do things for the stories, for the experiences, not because they’re going to be easy necessarily. I need a change of scenery and surroundings. I love being in the nature of Australia, and the city life is just stressing me out. I didn’t come here to live the exact life I could live in Cincy or LA. I came here to do things I wouldn’t normally do.

My health is relatively under control. I had a big scare for a couple weeks breaking out in rashes and skin peelings, throat swelling and medicines that weren’t responding, so I got blood tests (which I owe money for but can’t pay), and it came back that since October I’ve had mono or glandular fever. Luckily with steroids, eating better, taking a crap ton of Vitamin C and Zinc and cutting down significantly on drinking alcohol, it seems under control. Only issue now is my hip and leg are in an immense amount of pain when I stand or sit for too long, even more so than before I left for Europe. But nothing I can do because AU doesn’t offer a medical agreement with US and I don’t have the money to pay for travel insurance that I could send a claim to after the fact. So just have to push through the pain.

I’ve adventured to Phillip Island, Sorrento Beach down by the Melbourne Peninsula, Mt. Buller for hiking, up near Healseville for an incredible 4 day New Years music festival called Tanglewood, and plenty of romping around the city to rooftop bars and my favorite place called the Butterfly Club where I try to go every Friday night to sing with a live piano. I don’t know if I’ve written about it before but it deserves a second mention if so. Great vibe, fantastic drinks, phenomenal ambiance. I have enjoyed my time here as much as I can with what funds I have and at the expense of generous people allowing me to tag along.

I’ve made some new girlfriends that I hope I can continue making plans with. Today is actually Australia Day, but much like Columbus Day in the US there’s a lot of controversy over the implications behind it with the mass genocide of aboriginal peoples. Still, I went to see what festivities were taking place around the city and St. Kilda beach today, went to the ACMI and then listened to the hottest 100 at a bar in the sun sipping an espresso martini.

In general, I’m not homesick, but I am tired of feeling sad because I’m unable to attain this vision I had of what it would be like here. Things keep slipping through my fingers or are dangled in front of me like a dog treat then just thrown in the trash like I didn’t deserve it because I didn’t do the right trick. Playing dead is about all I feel like doing right now :/

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artbyabiola · 6 years

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“When not used as meat canon, child soldiers are deminers spies, porters, sex slaves, custodians holdings of oil or diamonds, financing rebellions in Africa. According to United Nations estimates, the world has nearly 300 000 child soldiers under 18 years used in over 30 conflicts around the globe, civil wars marked by the proliferation weapons cheap and extraordinarily easy”

Hi everyone,

today’s culture moment it’s a topic I really care to share. Not too long ago I read a book, that got my attention because the author is a Nigerian woman, and I have never read anything by a Nigerian author before ( I have a few other my belt now!)

Get yourself a copy!

Well aren’t I glad I finally did. I’m not goin to spoil it in case you decide to read it, but the story was set in post independence Nigeria, circa 1960, on the eve of a cilvil war, that would turn out to be vicious.

As a child my dad used to tell me a lot of bed time stories and the majority of them were all Nigerian folklore. One story I remember him telling me about was about him being a soldier. I always thought those were make believe stories, he would tell my brother and me to try and teach some history about Nigeria and our culture. It wasn’t until many years later and not until I read this book that if finally dawned on me: he really was a soldier, in fact he was a CHILD SOLDIER.

My father was taken from his family at the age of 13 to go and fight for a very stupid war, that made no sense whats so ever, not that any war does ever make sense, but at the time, part of the Nigerians wanted the Igbos ( one of the many Nigerian ethnicities/tribes) to disappear, to be eliminated. The dumbest thing about it is that the only main differentiating factor was the language, so, for those igbo that spoke more than one Nigerian language, there was a way out.

Anyways…after reading this book…I decided to interview my dad about that experience, because I still could not believe that the guy whom I call “ciccione” (fat guy in Italian) a very outgoing, smart, funny and annoying (hey is my dad so I can say that) man…was once a 13 year old little boy that had to fight for his life. I definitely gained a whole other level of respect for him.

baby “ciccione”

Interview with my father – a child soldier survivor.

ME: How old were you when u had to leave home?

DAD: 13

ME: What were you most scared off?

DAD: No I was not scared, to me it was like an adventure, and they kept telling us they wanted to kill us, so it was the adventure of saving my life.

ME: How your parents reacted?

DAD: My father was more scared than my mom, he didn’t like the idea of me going, my mother just knew I would come back alive.

ME: Could they have helped you avoid going?

DAD: It was compulsory for me to go because I was tall and fit for my age and looked older than just 13 and they couldn’t even fake my age to make them think I was younger,

ME: Did u ever have to kill anyone?

DAD: I don’t know if I did, we were just shooting to save our lives, so the gun went off every time I was in danger, but I never stopped to look at what was left behind.

ME: Who thought you how to use weapons and fight?

DAD: They sent us to military camp and trained us for 6 weeks.

ME: How were you treated?

ME: They treated us like we were grown soldier, and part of the army, they fed us maybe once a day and sometimes twice.

ME: How did you survive?

DAD: Ha ha ha!! Your dad is a smart guy!! The fact that I speak the 3 main Nigerian languages (Yoruba, Igbo & Hausa) every where I went I was a “local” and it was to my advantage. They used me to help the people in charge talk to the locals in different villages and to translate for them, there for I was needed a lot.

ME: How long did u have to be gone for?

DAD: I was in the war front from 1968 till the end of the war in 1970

ME: How did that experience changed you?

DAD: I became very aggressive, I was prone to get vary mad and ready to physically fight someone for any kind of provocation.

ME: How others reacted to you?

DAD: When I resumed school my uncle went to talk to the principle to explain my aggressive behavior. With time and the support of the people that loved me I learned to manage my anger.

The day after the interview I was talking to my cousin, and she had a few other interesting things her mom (my dad younger sister) told her about that time, and how hard it was to make it back then. Turns out we have some what of a dysfunctional family and we talk about NOTHING, EVER, lol but when we do…whooo wheeee the crazy thing we learned about our past.

ok so…

Family history lesson pt2. as told by Amaka (the cousin)

“Our family was in the east when the war started, they had to hide and added to that was the fact that grampa was already sick so it was tough.

My mom and uncle Bidoun (my dads younger sister and brother) used to go around searching for food, they kept on moving around, I can’t remember where they settled, but grandmas side of the family finally came to the east to look for them and brought them all to Lagos.

NOTE: our grandma was Yoruba therefor safe from the senseless killings.

The Wabara matron herself- grandma

Being able to speak Yoruba helped them survive. When they were in a situation where Nigerian soldiers came and questioned them, they told them they were yorubas. That was one of the advantages of coming from a culturally mixed family.

While they were roaming around trying to survive, my mom said she saw some soldiers that had killed a woman in the bush; on top of that they were eating the parts and when other soldiers caught them they put the parts in a basket told them to carry it and paraded them in the city. My mom also said your dad was hyper for a while after he came back.”

Of course I had to ask my mom what she thought since she married the guy.

What is like to be the wife of a child soldier survivor?

ME: When did u meet him?

MOM: I met him when he was 24

ME: How was he?

MOM: He was nice, you know how a guy is when he tries to get the girl.

ME: Have u ever seen him very angry?

MOM: Yes many times, never towards me, but I had to try and help him calm down and realize he couldn’t react to things that way anymore. He was a good guy that just needed some help and patience in dealing with is anger.

Between the book, and anecdotes from family I have learned a lot about my father. All I can say is I would have never guessed my dad went through something so dramatic and life altering at such a young impressionable time in is life.

Not all child soldiers are fortunate enough to get out of it and create a life or to get out of it alive at all. and that is something to really think about. There are a lot of ways we can help stop this senseless exploitation of young lives, one of them is HERE.

Until next time,

Aby

KID SOLDIERS…a closer look than expected "When not used as meat canon, child soldiers are deminers spies, porters, sex slaves, custodians holdings of oil or diamonds, financing rebellions in Africa.

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theauthorfiles-blog · 7 years

Text

Meet Marika Ray!

TAF: Pull up a chair. Let’s break the ice shall we? Knowing that you have a love of the beach, let’s pretend that you are in a Jaws or Shallows type situation. You have to choose three people to help you fight off and survive the shark attack. A lifeguard, a paramedic, and a friend. Who would they be and why?

MR: First of all, I would absolutely want my husband there. He’s so good at spotting things far out in the distance. Like he’s got some crazy bionic eye or something! And he used to be a lifeguard back in high school, so I’d definitely want him in this scenario as a lifeguard. For my friend, I’d want my girl Amanda. She’s pretty level headed and a ride-or-die kind of girl. She even swiped a huge bug out of my eye one time while hiking so I know she’d pull through in case of any shark drama. For the paramedic, I’d choose my grandfather. I know what you’re thinking: how’s a 97-year-old guy gonna help?? Well, you said pretend, so that’s what I’m doing! That man is the most multi-talented guy I know. He was in battle during WWII, he worked construction, he cooks, he reupholsters furniture, he even sewed tiny flowers onto my veil for my wedding. If a shark took a bite out of me, my grandpa is the man to put me back together.

TAF: Okay now that we know how you intend to survive every beach lover’s nightmare, tell us a little more about you for my readers that haven’t yet had the privileged to curl up with one of your books!

MR: My first book just came out on February 22, 2018, so I’m sure most of your readers haven’t heard about me yet! So…hi!! I’m a little awkward, but I own it, dammit! I am a Jill-of-all-trades. I’ve worked in physical therapy, special interest lobbying, internet start-ups, finance, owned my own business, and I love to write. Basically, once I get turned onto something, I dive in. Like, waaaay deep. If I have no interest, I can’t be bothered. I love learning new things and am ridiculously positive by nature. I feel calm and centered at the beach and I grew up in southern California, so the Beach Squad series is close to my heart. I’m a coffee addict and I love snuggling with my daughter. And lastly, I have a ton of stories floating around in my head that I can’t wait to get on paper!

TAF: Have you ever Googled yourself?

MR: I’ve googled my real name and there are some crazy pictures that show up…one of the reasons why I love writing with a pseudonym. lol

TAF: Do you have an evil day job or do you write full time?

MR: I have a part-time day job that I actually love. Not quite as much as writing though. I’m blessed to be doing exactly what I love to do.

TAF: Do you see yourself in any of your characters?

MR: Esa, in Sweet Dreams, has a habit of mixing up her phrases. That character trait was totally written from first-hand experience! I mix my phrases up constantly…it’s bad…

TAF: Do you listen to music while writing?

MR: Yes, I usually have some easy listening top 40 type music in the background. Not loud enough that I can make out lyrics though as that derails my brain. I also diffuse oils on my desk. I basically try to create a really cozy experience so I continue to always love writing.

TAF: What are your favorite hobbies?

MR: Don’t unfriend me over this, but I love to workout!! I love the mental release of sweating and listening to loud music while I move my body. That doesn’t mean I’m a skinny little thing…’cause I also equally love to eat! lol Other hobbies are surfing (which I learned how to do at the ripe ol’ age of 38), reading (been a fan of books since I read Little House on the Prairie) and trying new recipes.

TAF: What are your guilty pleasures?

MR: Definitely chocolate and romance books, the spicier the better! The books, not the chocolate…

TAF: If you could be one of your characters, who would you chose?

MR: I definitely would love to be Bailey, Esa’s best friend! She is so sassy and doesn’t put up with shit from anybody. I was always a bit shy and could have used some backbone in my younger years. It would be fun to live as her for a bit where you just say what you’re thinking, and everybody still loves you.

TAF: If I were to buy you a book for your birthday or just because I am such total awesomeness, what genre would I need to scour?

MR: Romance is my first choice, of course! But I also secretly love YA. I love all the angst and firsts and finding your power drama….it’s nice to read about it, knowing I’m well beyond that point in my own life! lol I also enjoy suspense and I have a few ideas of my own for some twisty suspenseful reads in the future.

TAF: State a random fact about yourself that would surprise your readers.

MR: I grew up in a religion that’s now been officially labeled a cult. Being graphic with sex scenes in my books has been a liberating experience, as that was totally taboo to talk about growing up.

TAF: In closing, tell us a bit about your latest release (& share a yummy excerpt for those who aren’t yet familiar with your work)

MR: My latest and first release is Sweet Dreams, a stand-alone novel in the Beach Squad Series. It’s about a lifeguard and his fearless lady, Esa. Her story shows you what a strong woman she is, yet she still has fears like we all do. In this book, she faces a stalker and she faces herself, seeing if she can open up and let love back into her heart after it’s been broken.

Excerpt

Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 6, before they’ve become an official couple.

I was just pulling my pjs on when Ivan knocked softly on the door. "Are you decent?" he called before stepping into the room.

"Just barely!" I said while my stomach went mushy. This felt intimate somehow. Wearing our pjs, talking in my bedroom. Like we were playing house together. I was nervous, but in a good way.

"Damn, I missed the show.” He teased me with a half-smile, half-leer. "Turn around so I can change too. Or you can watch, it doesn't bother me."

"Ivan!" I said, flushing red. I turned around and heard clothes rustling as he changed pants. I walked toward my bed and climbed up on the quilt and sat down facing him, sinking a few inches into the pillows.

The red in my cheeks didn't go anywhere as I got to check him out with pajama pants hung low on his hips. His feet were bare and thank the Lord, he had nice looking boy feet. Feet weren't attractive most of the time and so many guys had nasty feet. Total deal killer. But not Ivan.

My eyes drifted back up, and I saw the sexy, male muscle bumps on either side of his hip bones. I think Abercrombie made them famous a decade or two ago. It's like they were arrows leading to the treasure. I could literally feel my lips burning as I thought about getting my mouth on them. Five years without a hint of a sex drive and I'd gone from zero to sixty in one date. I would have to turn on the ceiling fan to cool it off in here.

And then I took in the abs, and the pecs, and the biceps. All tan, all bumpy with muscle, a few strategically placed veins in all the right places. A faint scattering of dark blond chest hair tapered into a subtle happy trail, disappearing into his pants. Good God. My face burned even brighter and my eyes glazed over. That man was straight up lethal and I wasn't sure I could handle it. I mean, he was a California beach lifeguard. They made a TV show out of hottie lifeguards! He had to stay in shape for his job, he had women drooling over him all day, he took action in dangerous situations. And now he was in my bedroom, half dressed and looking at me with hooded eyes, taking in my pajama-clad self in bed.

He walked toward me and I swear it was more of a prowl than a walk. Not much to do but try to take it all in and burn it to memory. I could have jumped up and moved us to the living room, but the sexy side of me that literally just woke up from its long slumber wouldn't let me. I was frozen in place and I think Ivan knew it.

He reached the side of the bed. He lifted one leg, climbed up, and sat criss-cross-applesauce in front of me, knees touching mine. I could feel his heat and I was drawn to it, just like his familiar scent that surrounded me with him this close. He leaned in and touched his lips to my cheek. "Relax, Esa," he whispered against my cheek.

Author Bio

Marika Ray spends her time behind a computer crafting stories, walking the beaches of Southern California scoping out the lifeguards, and making healthy food for her kids and husband whether they like it or not. Prior to writing novels, Marika held various jobs in the finance industry, with private start-up companies, and then in health & fitness. Cats may have nine lives, but Marika believes everyone should have nine careers to keep things spicy. But definitely no cats, because she’s allergic to them.

You can stalk Marika here:

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