#actually maybe a little bit parts of french Canada french | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Stalker X Stalker, Part 2

First part

Perma tag: @nathleigh

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades

Tim wheeled his bike into the alleyway nearby and set the alarm to call him if someone messed with it beyond the normal ‘must touch cool thing’ instincts.

Once he was sure that his bike couldn’t be easily stolen, he turned back to where Marinette was waiting for him.

She struggled with her phone with her gloved fingers. His lips twitched into a grin and he took a moment to school his face into a neutral expression before he started over.

After a second, her head turned to look at him and she flashed a wink, pocketing her phone.

“Cheers!” She chirped, flashing him a wave.

Tim raised an eyebrow at her behind his domino mask. “I hate to break this to you, but that’s a British thing.”

He could only see the top half of her face, and yet he was sure she was pouting. “Kwami, this is Canada French all over again.”

“Canada --?”

“They speak the language all wrong,” she said, as if that made it make more sense.

“I feel like you’re implying that I speak English wrong.”

“Would you rather I say it outright? ‘Cheers’ is a cute word and it sucks that Americans don’t use it.”

“Is this really a hill you’re going to die on?”

“Not just a hill I’m going to die on, it’s the hill.”

He scoffed lightly at that, then turned to get the door for her. The moment they stepped inside they tensed. The silent stares pressed in on them on all sides and he felt Marinette shuffle just the slightest bit closer to him as they took their place in line. The Gothamites continued watching them -- no, they were watching her -- warily, and of course they were (new people in costumes usually meant pain for them).

Well, he could assure them she was safe, at least.

He slowly, carefully, threw his arm over his shoulders. Marinette’s hand twitched towards the arm on instinct to throw him off, but otherwise she didn’t give much indication that what was going on was weird. There were a few more tense seconds before people turned back to what they were doing, visibly relieved by the fact that she was apparently on the good side. Chatter started back up.

Marinette relaxed slightly under his arm and he gave her shoulder a little squeeze in a weak attempt at comfort.

“Kwami, I forgot how much being a new hero sucks.”

“Vigilante,” he corrected her absently.

She rolled her eyes. “At least try and make it sound like you’re not a cop with a bird theme.”

He sputtered, pulling away to cross his arms over his chest. “Hey!”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes!”

She rested her hands on her hips.

“We break laws!”

She snickered. “So do cops.”

Tim… didn’t have a retort for that. Luckily, he didn’t need to have one, because it was their turn to order. Neither of them hesitated and within a minute they had their drinks and were out the door. They waved for the few cameras pointed at them on their way out, false smiles lighting up their faces, and then quickly ducked back into the alleyway to have their drinks in privacy.

“I’m going to start going places as Red Robin more often since it seems to mean I’ll get served quicker,” joked Tim as he leaned against the wall.

She gave him a puff of laughter and then pulled the bottom of her mask up to take a sip of her caramel frappe. He watched her expression for a moment and then decided that it must have been good because she didn’t instantly recoil. He pulled his coffee to his lips and took a confident gulp, only to choke.

“Shit,” he hissed, fighting the urge to spit it out.

Now that he knew what to look for he could see the pain behind her eyes.

“It’s really bad,” she informed him, purposefully just a moment too late in her warning.

He huffed a little, looking at the cup in his hand. It’s an iced coffee! How do you even mess that up?

There was a beat as the two vigilantes considered their options, before giving each other shrugs and downing their drinks. It may have been bad, but at least it was caffeinated. Marinette, lucky her, had an easier time of it because she’d gotten whipped cream with hers. He was tempted to snatch the drink from her hands to have something to wash down the cup threatening to sully the good name of coffee for him…

But he didn’t have to. She smiled and offered him the last of her whipped cream. He squinted at it suspiciously as if expecting it to be poisoned. After the coffee incident just a moment before he wasn’t about to take any chances.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s actually good, promise.”

“If you’re lying I’m taking back vouching for you to Batman,” he told her.

Her eyes crinkled with mirth.

“I’m serious! If it’s terrible I’m marching back to the Batcave --!”

“All the way back?”

“Yes! All the way back to the Batcave! And I’m going to revoke my vouching!”

“Oh noooooo, not the vouching!” She said, bringing her hands to her cheeks in mock terror. When he continued to ‘glare’ at her she snickered and assured him that: “It’s fine, I’m pretty sure it’s from a can.”

He squinted at her, because canned whipped cream was still far below his normal standard, but he did end up taking it. It was… okay.

“See? Not poisoned.”

“Very suspicious thing to say unprompted but okay.”

She grinned, reaching over to swipe some cream off his nose. “You’ll die in exactly four hours”

He rolled his eyes. “Hm. I guess I should go home and work on making an antidote, then.”

“Yeah. Good luck with that. I’ll see you later.” She leaned forward and pressed her mask to his cheek in a sort of kiss before heading off.

He watched her leave, smiling to himself. He leaned back against his motorbike absently, thinking.

Well, he supposed he didn’t need to watch her to make sure she was safe anymore. She was Ladybug, she could take care of herself in a fight…

But then a thought occurred to him: she couldn’t detect him when he had been watching her earlier. He bit his lip anxiously. Sure, he was trained to evade detection but did he really want to chance it? In a place like Gotham the ability to tell when you’re being watched is an absolute must.

Okay. Fine. He’d watch her just a little longer…

Marinette frowned when her phone rang while she was doing some late-night work.

“Yeah?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, M’lady?”

A wide grin stretched across her face and she fell back in her bed. “Chaton! And here I was thinking you would never call!”

Adrien laughed. “Well, our time zones don’t exactly match up and I forgot that your sleep schedule is less of a schedule and more of a suggestion.”

“Fuck you, too, then.”

He laughed and she could hear him shifting around on the other side. She heard him zip something up on the other side and she lit up. “When’re you coming over?” He sighed and that was all it took to let her know that he had bad news. The momentary silence afterwards as he tried to figure out what to say was a good indication, too.

“I can’t, unfortunately. The Son of Hawkmoth moving away right after he gets jailed isn’t a good look. The United States Government isn’t that eager to have me, either.”

She wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Just steal the horse miraculous from Fu and come over illegally.”

He snorted. “Yeah, no, straight up disappearing is even more suspicious, thanks.”

Marinette frowned. She supposed that made sense…

She pulled her cat plush over so she could rest her head against it. “It’s so boring without you.”

“You’re making new friends, right?” He questioned, concerned. “I saw on the news that you’ve met the other vigilantes already.”

“Yeah, I guess… but they clearly don’t trust me.”

“Well, did you trust me when we started out?”

“No…”

“So give them time. They’ll realize you’re the best person on Earth soon enough.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, obviously. They’d have to be blind not to notice that.”

“Well, one of them is called Batman --.”

“I’m hanging up on you.”

He laughed at her and she smiled as she burrowed into her plush.

“Thanks, Chaton.”

“Anytime. Now, go to sleep.”

She rolled her eyes and hung up on him without promising him anything.

He leaned against the concrete of the roof, head on his arms to prevent scratching up his chin as he watched her through the window. He kind of worried about her having the blinds open like that, anyone could look in at her, but at least she closed it at night.

Still, he couldn’t deny that it certainly made things easier for him. She did most things by window light -- to save electricity, he theorized -- so he didn’t have to work all that hard to keep track of her.

Currently, she was working on stitching some pieces of an outfit. Her tongue poked out of her mouth a little when she concentrated, he had learned. A tiny part of him wondered if she did that as Ladybug, too, and he just couldn’t see it under her mask.

He kind of wished he could ask. Maybe one day he would (if they ever got close enough for him to reveal he’d been watching her without her knowledge, of course).

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts, and he groaned to himself as he synced his earbuds and picked up.

“Yeah, B, what do you need?”

Listen, Marinette liked her job. She had the privilege of designing most of the outfits she did and that was a lot of fun -- certainly more fun than working solely on commissions -- but… sometimes she just wants to be told what to do. Artist’s Block is real and it fucking sucks.

Thankfully, Gotham gave quite a bit of inspiration. The difference between Gotham and Paris was striking. Paris was pristine; lots of tourists meant keeping the city in a constant state of newness, all bright colors and surfaces so clean you can see your reflection in them. Gotham, on the other hand, felt exceptionally lived in; graffiti, decaying buildings, cracked sidewalks…

She found a nice vantage point that overlooked the city and looked out over the horizon. That was another difference between the two: the height of buildings in Gotham was far more varied than those of Paris. It was more interesting to look at, she thought.

(It had been a point of annoyance at night as she could no longer jump from rooftop to rooftop with ease, but that’s not the point here.)

Maybe she could do something inspired by all the different heights. Audrey would probably like a dress like that.

She smiled walking to a nearby gargoyle. Red graffiti dubbed them Charlie, and who was she to not use his preferred name?

“Hello, Charlie, may I sit on you?” She joked quietly.

Charlie did not answer, not that she really expected him to.

She perched herself on the gargoyle’s back and pulled her sketchbook from a secret pocket in her leather jacket. She hummed tunelessly as she sketched out the shape.

Layers of different lengths -- and different colors, too, of course, she thought as she pulled out some colored pens (what’s the point of different layers if you don’t make it rainbow?) -- and oh it definitely had to trail a little in the back for the drama…

Artist’s block hit her like a too-high wall on patrols as she stared at where the bodice needed to be. What should she do? Obviously it needed to be relatively simple otherwise she risked the dress being an eyesore but…

It was just her luck that the moment she came to a decision about what to do for the bodice and accessories is the moment the first water droplet hit her sketchbook. She pulled her gaze to the sky and noticed the storm cloud overhead.

Shit, it was starting to rain.

She looked back down at her sketchbook, irritation spiking under her skin.

Option one: tough it out and continue drawing so she doesn’t risk forgetting the idea she’d had.

Option two: don’t risk her outfit (or her health, she guessed) and just head inside like a sane person.

… Marinette chose option one. She wouldn’t be herself without the occasional bad decision.

She drew her jacket over her head and hunched over her sketchbook as she continued sketching out her design.

Except, after a few minutes, she didn’t feel the beat of the rain on her jacket. She blinked a few times because she could still hear the rain nearby and she started to wonder if she had died somehow before she caught the sound of someone moving just out of her seeing range.

She turned her head to see a man holding an umbrella over her head, her jacket falling back to rest on her shoulders.

She gave him a once over. It was a little paranoid, she could admit, but she was in Gotham; it paid to be cautious. He was wearing a thick trench coat and gloves, which was a big red flag. He also had open posture -- more open than was natural, actually -- what with his slight slouch and hands spread wide in a somewhat placating gesture. The only good thing was that he was keeping a respectful distance, even standing a bit in the rain in order to avoid crowding her.

… well, he had an umbrella, at least.

She gripped the gargoyle tighter with her legs just in case he decided he wanted to try and push her, then turned to face him more.

“Hi,” she said carefully.

“You know, it’s illegal to be up here,” he said, flashing her an almost blindingly white smile.

She grinned. “You’re breaking the law, too, then.”

“Yeah. I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me.”

She reached a pinky out and, after a second’s hesitation, he returned the gesture.

Deal made, he wiped some of the water away with gloved fingers and took a seat beside her.

He clearly trusted her more than she trusted him, even allowing his legs to hang over the side of the building. She wondered why, vaguely, but she couldn’t exactly go and ask...

So, instead she smiled and said: “Thanks for the help. Water stains are a bitch to get out of leather.”

“You’re welcome, but I really can’t believe you went out without an umbrella in this city of all places.”

She shrugged sheepishly. “I’m a little new here, to be honest.”

She watched him carefully out of the corner of his eyes. The man frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by her laughter.

“I’m kidding, I’m not stupid enough to genuinely tell someone that. I was just going for the Manic Pixie Dream Girl aesthetic.”

His shoulders relaxed in a way that would have been imperceptible if she hadn’t been trained to check body language. She let herself relax her grip on the gargoyle a little as well; he had been concerned about her right then, he was probably pretty safe. Safe enough to not strain her legs too much, at least.

“Well, I do like your aesthetic,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “The Manic Pixie Dream Girl stuff, my outfit, or what I’m drawing?”

“All of it. But mostly the outfit.”

She felt a faint blush rise to her face but she brushed him off with a: “Yeah, thanks, but I’m not about to start taking fashion advice from a guy in a trenchcoat.”

He gasped and brought his free hand to his chest in mock offense. “Excuse you, this is peak Gotham fashion!”

“It’s shady, that’s what it is.”

“That’s what Gotham fashion is!”

She couldn’t have rolled her eyes harder if she tried. And she did try.

Her gaze fell back to her work and she sighed as she pulled out her pens and started working on finishing up her sketch.

“So, what’re you up here for?” She asked because she didn’t want to risk him getting bored and leaving with the umbrella.

“Hm? Oh, I do photography in my spare time. Figured I’d scope out some new areas.”

“Know all the best places in Gotham?”

“You have no idea.” The man flashed her a grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone in person, though, so I figured I’d get some update shots.”

“Well, if we both need to go sightseeing around Gotham for our things, why not do it together?”

He raised an eyebrow at her but she could see the way his lips twitched downwards with concern. “Trust me that much already? We’ve just met.”

“Well, you seem like a nice guy...” She smirked. “And I could totally beat your ass.”

He scoffed and unbuttoned his trenchcoat to prove to her that he did, in fact, have muscles hidden beneath all those layers and she laughed before she noticed the shirt he was wearing.

Holy shit. She’d made that shirt. He was wearing one of her shirts. She could see the gold stitching partially hidden beneath his collar, and fuck maybe she was concerned about all the wrong things.

Her eyes narrowed in on him just slightly. He clearly wasn’t actively hiding the shirt and didn’t seem concerned that he had shown her, which meant he:

a) didn’t know she was MDC,

b) saw her as just another artist,

or c) was showing her on purpose so she could make an informed decision about being his friend.

So… he didn’t seem to be a threat to her.

Maybe she could do some checking up on him, though, just to be safe.

She smiled. “I realize I never got your name. Probably would be a problem if we’re going to be spending more time together from now on.”

He grinned. “Yeah, it’s kinda hard to be friends with someone if you don’t even know their name. I’m Tim Drake.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said, watching his expression carefully.

He remained impassive. She wasn’t sure what that meant -- or if it meant anything at all, for that matter.

She pulled out her phone and offered it to him, taking the umbrella so he could type his number in with both hands. That done, she stuck the phone back in her pocket and smiled up at him.

“I’m stealing your umbrella, by the way,” she informed him, grip tightening on the handle in case he tried to take it back from her.

He grinned and made no move to do so. “If you must. Can you at least walk me inside the building before you run off with it?”

She giggled. “I guess I can do that, yes.”

It had been a long time since Tim had fanboyed this hard.

If he was any younger, he would have fallen back on his bed and squealed like a person in those old movies. As it were, he still wore a dopey smile.

He had MDC’s number! And not her work number, because he’d already had that, this was her real number!

And, even cooler, she might just let him go with her to get inspiration! Who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to watch one of their favorite artists do their thing?!

… oh, yeah, also the protection thing, obviously. That was the whole reason he was doing this, after all.

It would be so much easier to protect her if he went out with her on these excursions. Just being around men tended to ward off potential assailants. It was perfect!

Which meant he wouldn’t have any reason to follow her for her own protection anymore…

Wait, what about when she needed to go out for chores like groceries? She’d still need to be safe for that! Gotham is a scary place! What if someone tried to follo -- what if someone tried to mug her or something dangerous like that? No, she still needed his help!

Yeah, no, he has to do this. It’s for her own safety.

#haha this took forever dont @ me #timinette #timari #shutterbug #timmari #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #maribat #stalker x stalker

134 notes · View notes

rainwolfheart · 4 years

Text

PSA for folks with ADHD, dyslexia, and other learning disabilities

Do you find it easier to absorb information by hearing it, but not enough that you’ve looked into getting screen reader software for personal use? Have you wanted a screen reader but can’t afford a good one, or don’t want to invest in one without knowing you’ll like it?

Do you need to read things aloud to proofread them, but would prefer not to? Maybe it gets on the nerves of people you live with, or you write about stuff you aren’t comfortable reading aloud?

Have you tried using screen readers and gotten stressed because they’re built for visually impaired people, rather than people who just need help to read documents?

Are you frustrated by the robotic voices built into some programs, such as the default Windows screen reader?

Can’t find an audiobook or podcast that talks about the topic you want to learn about, despite there being lots of articles about it?

Are you learning a language and wish you could get a native speaker to read stuff to you instead of guessing at pronunciation?

I have good news! There’s a hidden read aloud feature built into Windows computers, completely free, that sounds so natural you could mistake it for a real person sometimes. It’s great at pronouncing names (even foreign ones) and following the flow of sentences.

Microsoft Edge (yes, the hip new version of Internet Explorer that you immediately deleted from your desktop as soon as you installed your browser of choice) has a built-in read aloud feature that sounds amazing. You can choose from a ton of “Natural” voices to read web pages and PDFs, straight to your speakers or headphones. It’s available in many languages, with adjustable speed. They all have feminine voices, but American English and mainland Chinese also have masculine options if you prefer.

Languages and dialects supported: Chinese (Hong Kong), Chinese (mainland), Chinese (Taiwan), Dutch, English (Australia), English (Canada), English (India), English (UK), English (USA), French (Canada), French (France), German, Hindi, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Polish, Portuguese (Brazil), Russian, Spanish (Mexico), Spanish (Spain), and Turkish.

You can really easily switch between voices without interrupting the text, so you can try all the options for your language of choice to see which one you like best. I’m a fan of Mia (British English) and Sylvie (Canadian French), myself.

I can confirm that this works well for reading text-heavy webpages and most PDFs, if you choose to open them with Edge. I’ve used it to read AO3 fanfic while doing housework like I would an audiobook or podcast, read academic articles, and proofread stuff I’ve written. You can easily jump ahead and tell it what part you want it to read, so you don’t have to listen to it read you every menu and image alt text.

A few caveats:

Only works on Edge desktop; I haven’t found an app or program that has the same voices.

If a page has citations, like a good Wikipedia page, it might be a little funky. It’ll say “dot two” and not really pause between sentences at a citation, for example. Same thing happens while reading an academic paper. Still worth trying, but could get annoying depending on how dense with citations it is.

It does not work with Google Docs. It’ll read you the menus but not the actual document. A workaround is to export the document as a PDF and reopen it in Edge.

Similarly, the built-in reader in Microsoft Office is the robotic version. I don’t know if there’s a way to hack the system and get these natural voices to work with it, but for now, you can once again export a document as a PDF.

I haven’t tested it with a PDF that’s been through OCR or with a Google Books scan, but I suspect that might be a bit janky, since they tend to get punctuation wrong.

It doesn’t work with Google Play Books in your browser. It’ll read them, but something about the way the books are formatted makes the pronunciation all messed up—I tried it both in a book bought directly from Google Play and in a book I got from Project Gutenberg. You could try to convert the ePub to a PDF and see if that fixes it, or try a different web-based ePub reader. With Gutenberg at least, they also have HTML versions that should read fine.

It won’t automatically switch languages if the document has more than one.

It doesn’t have as robust options as a traditional screen reader for visually impaired people might, such as whether to say punctuation. I think it’s really good at conveying tone and pacing if a sentence is well-written in the first place, though!

It’s been a great discovery for this grad student with ADHD and maybe it’ll help you, too!

tl;dr: Microsoft Edge has a built-in read aloud feature that’s really really good at reading web pages and PDFs (better than the default Windows screen reader), and you should try it if you think it might be helpful for you!

#adhd #dyslexia #adhd resources #accessibility #dyslexia resources #long post

69 notes · View notes

default-cube · 3 years

Text

So I've never actually seen /u/ryans01 excellent post re-posted here on tumblr, and I think it could help a lot of people, so I'll repost it below. Link to the original

Ouch. Sounds like you're having a tough time max. That sucks. I've been there, so I kinda know what you're talking about. I've been in the ever circling vortex of self doubt, frustration, and loathing. It's no bueno. I know. If you don't mind lemme tell you a couple things. You can read em if you want, read em again later if you feel like it. But honestly man, if I spend all this time typing this out to you and you don't let it be a little tinder for your fire, well, you're just letting us both down. And you don't HAVE to do that. You don't HAVE to do anything. But you get to choose.

(Who am I? My name’s Ryan and I live in Canada. Just moved to a new city for a dream job that I got because of the rules below. I owe a lot of my success to people much cooler, kinder, more loving and greater than me. When I get the chance to maybe let a little bit of help out, it’s a way of thanking them. )

Rule numero uno - There are no more zero days. What's a zero day? A zero day is when you don't do a single fucking thing towards whatever dream or goal or want or whatever that you got going on. No more zeros. I'm not saying you gotta bust an essay out everyday, that's not the point. The point I'm trying to make is that you have to make yourself, promise yourself, that the new SYSTEM you live in is a NON-ZERO system. Didnt' do anything all fucking day and it's 11:58 PM? Write one sentence. One pushup. Read one page of that chapter. One. Because one is non zero. You feel me? When you're in the super vortex of being bummed your pattern of behaviour is keeping the vortex goin, that's what you're used to. Turning into productivity ultimate master of the universe doesn't happen from the vortex. It happens from a massive string of CONSISTENT NON ZEROS. That's rule number one. Do not forget.

La deuxieme regle - yeah i learnt french. its a canadian thing. please excuse the lack of accent graves, but lemme get into rule number 2. BE GRATEFUL TO THE 3 YOU'S. Uh what? 3 me's? That sounds like mumbo jumbo bullshit. News flash, there are three you's homeslice. There's the past you, the present you, and the future you. If you wanna love someone and have someone love you back, you gotta learn to love yourself, and the 3 you's are the key. Be GRATEFUL to the past you for the positive things you've done. And do favours for the future you like you would for your best bro. Feeling like shit today? Stop a second, think of a good decision you made yesterday. Salad and tuna instead of Big Mac? THANK YOU YOUNGER ME. Was yesterday a nonzero day because you wrote 200 words (hey, that's all you could muster)? THANK YOU YOUNGER ME. Saved up some coin over time to buy that sweet thing you wanted? THANK YOU. Second part of the 3 me's is you gotta do your future self a favour, just like you would for your best fucking friend (no best friend? you do now. You got 2. It's future and past you). Tired as hell and can't get off reddit/videogames/interwebs? fuck you present self, this one's for future me, i'm gonna rock out p90x Ab Ripper X for 17 minutes. I'm doing this one for future me. Alarm clock goes off and bed is too comfy? fuck you present self, this one's for my best friend, the future me. I'm up and going for a 5 km run (or 25 meter run, it's gotta be non zero). MAKE SURE YOU THANK YOUR OLD SELF for rocking out at the end of every.single.thing. that makes your life better. The cycle of doing something for someone else (future you) and thanking someone for the good in your life (past you) is key to building gratitude and productivity. Do not doubt me. Over time you should spread the gratitude to others who help you on your path.

Rule number 3- don't worry i'm gonna too long didnt' read this bad boy at the bottom (get a pencil and piece of paper to write it down. seriously. you physically need to scratch marks on paper) FORGIVE YOURSELF. I mean it. Maybe you got all the know-how, money, ability, strength and talent to do whatever is you wanna do. But lets say you still didn't do it. Now you're giving yourself shit for not doing what you need to, to be who you want to. Heads up champion, being dissapointed in yourself causes you to be less productive. Tried your best to have a nonzero day yesterday and it failed? so what. I forgive you previous self. I forgive you. But today? Today is a nonzero masterpiece to the best of my ability for future self. This one's for you future homes. Forgiveness man, use it. I forgive you. Say it out loud.

Last rule. Rule number 4, is the easiest and its three words. exercise and books. that's it. Pretty standard advice but when you exercise daily you actually get smarter. when you exercise you get high from endorphins (thanks body). when you exercise you clear your mind. when you exercise you are doing your future self a huge favour. Exercise is a leg on a three legged stool. Feel me? As for books, almost every fucking thing we've all ever thought of, or felt, or gone through, or wanted, or wanted to know how to do, or whatever, has been figured out by someone else. Get some books max. Post to reddit about not caring about yourself? Good first step! (nonzero day, thanks younger me for typing it out) You know what else you could do? Read 7 habits of highly successful people. Read "emotional intelligence". Read "From good to great". Read “thinking fast and slow”. Read books that will help you understand. Read the bodyweight fitness reddit and incorporate it into your workouts. (how's them pullups coming?) Reading is the fucking warp whistle from Super Mario 3. It gets you to the next level that much faster.

That’s about it man. There’s so much more when it comes to how to turn nonzero days into hugely nonzero days, but that’s not your mission right now. Your mission is nonzero and forgiveness and favours. You got 36 essays due in 24 minutes and its impossible to pull off? Your past self let you down big time, but hey… I forgive you. Do as much as you can in those 24 minutes and then move on.

I hope I helped a little bit max. I could write about this forever, but I promised myself I would go do a 15 minute run while listening to A. Skillz Beats Working Vol. 3. Gotta jet. One last piece of advice though. Regardless of whether or not reading this for the first time helps make your day better, if you wake up tomorrow, and you can’t remember the 4 rules I just laid out, please, please. Read this again.

Have an awesome fucking day ☺

tldr; 1. Nonzero days as much as you can. 2. The three you’s, gratitude and favours. 3. Forgiveness 4. Exercise and books (which is a sneaky way of saying self improvement, both physical, emotional and mental)

Edit: Wow reddit gold? Thanks! No idea what to do with it or whats the deal but many thanks!

Edit2: Someone asked what I meant by "much more when it comes to how to turn nonzero days into hugely nonzero days". The long and short of it is a simple truth, but it's tough to TOTALLY UNDERSTAND AND PRACTICE. It's this: you become what you think. This doesnt mean if I think of a tree, I'll be oakin' it by august. It means that the WAY you think, the THINGS you think of, and the IDEAS YOU HOLD IN YOUR MIND defines the sum total that is you. You procrastinate all the time and got fear and worry goin on for something? You are becoming a procrastinator. You keep thinking about how much you want to run that 5 k race in the spring and finish a champion? Are ya keeping it in mind all the time? Is it something that is defining your ACTIONS and influencing you DECISIONS? If it is, then you're becoming the champion you're dreaming about. Dreaming about it makes it. Think and it shall be. But do not forget that action is thought's son. Thoughts without actions are nothing. Have faith in whatever it is you've steeled your mind to. Have faith and follow through with action.

Ok, Ryan that's a bunch of nice words n shit, but how does that help me turn slightly nonzero days into hugely nonzero days. Do you believe all these words you just read? Does it makes sense to you that you BECOME WHAT YOU THINK OF? Ask yourself: What do I think of? When you get home and walk in the door. (how quickly did you turn that laptop on? Did turning it on make you closer to your dreams? What would?) At the bus stop. Lunch break. What direction are you focusing your intentions on? If you're like I was a few years ago, the answer was either No direction, or whatever caught my eye at the moment. But no stress, forgive yourself. You know the truth now. And knowing the truth means you can watch your habits, read books on how you think and act, and finally start changing your behaviour. Heres an example: Feeling like bunk cause you had zero days or barely nonzero days? THINK ABOUT WHAT YOURE DOING. and change just a little bit more. in whatever positive direction you are choosing to go.

Edit3: WHOA! This blew up! Major appreciation to Modified_Duck for making this cool ass image: http://i.imgur.com/7xsp7hJ.png

Edit4: Another AMAZING DESKTOP BACKGROUND! http://www.reddit.com/r/GetMotivated/comments/1rowpb/i_made_a_wallpaper_from_uryans01s_amazing_quote/

#tips #adhd tips #adhd-tips #depression tips #mental health #neurodivergent #neurodiverse #nd #depression #autism #autistic

29 notes · View notes

emmettspeakz · 4 years

Note

Fluff prompt: Langa teaches Reiki French so they can visit Langa's hometown of Quebec.

Okay let me just say this is an adorable prompt. I just don’t know any French and had to look up words and I’m not 100% sure if they’re Canadian French, so I’m sorry about that. I hope it’s still cute and a soft thing to read. Hope you enjoy <3

“Let’s start with something easy: skateboard,” Langa said in a bit of an accent, but Reki blinked at him.

“Skateboard is just skateboard?” He asked in Japanese. Langa nodded then shrugged.

“Apparently.”

Reki laughed.

“Come on! Take this seriously! Give me an actual word I’ll need for being in Quebec with you!”

“I am taking this seriously but I-”

Langa looked thoughtful. Reki really wanted to learn his language for him and he couldn’t help but feel flattered at the gesture.

“Well, uh,” Langa thought for a moment. “I’m going to be with you a lot of the time, but if you want to ask for a bathroom or something or for food other than what we get at Joe’s restaurant—”

“Are you saying Canada doesn’t have Italian food?” Reki demanded, causing Langa to get flustered all of a sudden. He scoffed and laughed it off.

“No, I’m just saying you might need to learn a few basic sentences if you wanna survive without me in some parts of Canada for a few days.”

Reki deflated.

“But I thought we were going together.”

Langa immediately tried to back track upon seeing Reki’s adorable puppy dog eyes.

“W-We are, I just meant, i-if you’re ever alone for some reason and need to know how to do a few things. We’re visiting my relatives too, so you gotta be able to communicate with them a little. It’ll make them happy y’know?”

Reki’s mouth gaped open as he stared intently at Langa.

“I-I’m meeting your relatives?” Reki asked, his eyes as big as dinner plates. He really did look like a puppy, good lord. Langa felt heat rise along the back of his neck and he placed his hand there nervously.

“Well, Mom wants to go back with us so she can visit the family we left behind when we moved to Okinawa, b-but—”

Reki grabbed Langa’s face in his, forcing the blue-haired boy to look at him in the face.

“That means a lot to me, that you want me to meet your other family,” He said quietly, but Langa could tell Reki hoped he was coming off as sincere and it was clear that he was.

“Oh.” Langa said simply, unable to hide his blush with the red-headed boy’s face right there.

“I’m-I’m happy you wanna come with me.”

They stared at each other for a bit too long, before Reki looked away, going back to his desk, remembering what they were supposed to be doing. It was only a week before the plane ride to Quebec and they needed to prepare at least a little. The two of them were always accustomed to going back to Reki’s place when doing anything other than skating so why change that?

“Ok, okay uh, how about ‘nice to meet you’?” Reki suggested.

“Ravi de vous rencontrer,” Langa replied.

“Ravi de what what?” Reki asked and Langa couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me! I’m really trying here!” Reki shouted, but he was grinning. Langa just kept laughing and Reki punched his arm affectionately.

“Stop!” Reki exclaimed.

“Ok, okay, I’m sorry.” Langa said, regaining his breath.

“Say it one more time,” Reki told him.

“Ravi de vous recontrer,” Langa repeated, this time emphasizing the syllables a bit more and smiling when Reki got it almost right that time.

“Okay, how about ‘where’s the bathroom?’” Langa asked.

Reki crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

“Real mature, Langa.” He said.

“Oh c’mon, it’s practical at least!” Langa protested.

“How about…I love you?” Reki asked, his face turning red.

Langa looked confused.

“Why would you tell my relatives you loved them?” Langa inquired, completely oblivious.

Reki hid his face in his hands, too embarrassed to say anything.

“You’re an idiot.” He mumbled into his hands. It took a second but Langa eventually got it.

“je t’aime aussi,” Langa said, without thinking much about it as his cheeks reddened.

“What?” Reki looked up, taking his hands away from his face.

“I love you too,” Langa said quietly, covering his mouth after he said it. Reki’s surprise was apparent by his mouth gaping open again but then he started tearing up, happy tears forming at the brims of his eyes.

“You do?” He asked, jumping into Langa’s arms like he had after Langa’s beef with Miya was successful.

“Uh, y-yeah,” Langa replied, his front leg slipping a bit as he braced his other one as Reki’s full weight crashed down upon him. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms completely around the shorter boy’s shoulders, shutting his eyes as he pressed his body into Reki’s in a tight embrace. They were still in Reki’s house and anyone could walk in at any moment, so this would have to do for now. Maybe when they were alone, truly alone, they could have another moment like this where no one would interrupt them. Reki held him tightly towards his own body and they just stood there in his room, holding each other close and not letting go, feeling protected and safe in each other’s company.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” Reki said into Langa’s neck, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “Please.”

“Never.” Langa promised, holding Reki even tighter.

#renga fanfic #emmett writes stuff #renga fluff #sk8 the infinity #sk8 the infinity fanfic #anon #asks

45 notes · View notes

musicallisto · 3 years

Note

HELLOOO CLARA~

I’ve missed you so much love!! I have many things to say;

1) if you’re feeling exhausted despite getting a good nights sleep, it’s probably a sign of a depravity of something else - iron, perhaps?

2) I agree with what Olive said on your accent post - your English is very good! And it is only on a certain words, how you choose to say things that would make me think “ok she’s not a native speaker” I am very proud and impressed, since I do NOT have a talent for languages at all

3) you’ve made me yearn to go get ice cream and walk down main street with you … perhaps we are all wearing floppy sun hats and twirly skirts, and gaze at the rivers and trees and flirt joyously at every cute boy passing us by, ruining it by our vivacious laughter??

4) I know this may sound odd - but what language do you think in? Do you think in French and actively translate everything you read/hear, and translate in your brain before you speak? Or is it as easy as breathing? (I hope I’m not being ignorant, I think you are beautiful and I am simply gazing at a work of art)

Anyways I miss you so much!! Literal oceans separate us and I want to hold your hand and kiss your cheek 🥺🥰

✧˖°࿐ Lindsay!!!! I'm so happy to be talking to you, it's been way too long and I'm consciously ignoring my math homework to answer your ask. (it's been so long that my laptop doesn't autocomplete 'tu' to tumblr anymore, I feel so betrayed) how are you lovely? i hope everything's fine for you and that you're having an excellent time 💜

it could be - I hadn't thought of that! last year I also had some difficulty sleeping and weird bouts of dizziness at random times of day, but it went away, so I attributed them to stress - but maybe there's an underlying cause because they're back now and I'm most definitely not as anxious as I was last year. idk though because I've never had any kind of iron deficiency or anything of the sort? I tried meditation and breathing exercises and stuff and for the most part it helped, so I'll see how it goes!

thank you very much! <3 Olive's post was super insightful and I loved having my accent analyzed like that, I felt like I was being reviewed by that dialect coach on the Wired youtube channel lol. it's definitely true that there are certain words I just can't pronounce the American way, no matter how hard I try, and it makes me cringe a little bit, but hey, if it adds charm and character to my voice, i'll take it!

oh my god please,,,, I want this SO BAD. the number one thing I need right now is a day out with friends and the number two thing I need right now is ice cream. combining the two? I'll SWIM over to Canada if I have to, because I want this to happen. Then we can go iceskating, and you'll teach me, because I never have, and I figure I'm probably dreadful at it because I couldn't even stand on rollerblades when I tried. i've been to Canada once but I would die to come back and hang out with you.

it's not a weird question! I've gotten it before, actually. it's kind of difficult to explain - but it's like my brain has different modes and I can switch them on and off. default mode is French because it's my first language and the one I use on a daily basis; when I think to myself 95% of the time it's in French. but sometimes the situation requires me to switch to Spanish or English, and it's like changing my brain's whole layout. French then takes a seat back and it's like I changed the language in my brain's settings, lol. taking the example of your ask, I didn't read each sentence and consciously translate it to French word for word - it immediately registered in my brain, like it would for any native English speaker reading normally. and as I'm answering it, my brain hasn't switched back to French, so every thought I might have now (even if it's totally unrelated, like what could be for dinner) will be in English. as soon as I hit 'answer' and see a word in French, it will switch back again. sometimes the switch isn't automatic, so it may happen that I'm lost in thought about something in Spanish or talking to my mom on the phone, and someone asks me something in French and I blurt out the answer in Spanish because my brain just goes ??? i have no idea what we're doing now ???? but basically, to answer your question, I read naturally and don't translate word for word, even more difficult sentences that may take me a few rereads to process. Thinking in English is a bit weird though, almost dissociative; it doesn’t feel totally organic, more like I’m talking to a friend rather than really... hearing the little voice in my head. but I object - you are the work of art here 💜 edit: rereading your ask you also wondered about speaking, so speaking is mostly automatic as well, but requires more effort than listening and comprehension. which is why you’ll hear me make a lot of pauses and use a lot of filler words - I am not as dumb as I sound, I’m just trying to find a way to express what is abstractly crystal clear in my head in a way that will not outrageously violate the rules of English I also get asked a lot what language do I dream in, lol, and the answer is mostly French but sometimes I'll have a dream that's entirely in English or Spanish for zero reason or there's just one character in the dream who speaks in a different language from the others and it's all just a big mess.

#hope this made sense because i'm 99% sure that it didn't whatsoever!#the wiring for english in my head is rusty the best i can do is math nowadays so like. i have to fall back into a comfortable rhythm #because yes my english does get rusty like how you'll be all rusty from not writing or not practicing your instrument - it really does #and i'm like 'are words make sense???? what is words???? i have not know?????'#��₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ lindsay #— ask.

6 notes · View notes

slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager.

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around.

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount.

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip.

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange.

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since.

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.”

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two.

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door.

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was.

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman.

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else.

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass.

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans.

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?”

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour.

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number.

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market.

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream.

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River.

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty.

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting.

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

“Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!”

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.”

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?”

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.”

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?”

“My pride and joy.”

June 13 (sun)

Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto.

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits.

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee.

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.”

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically.

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.”

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?”

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.”

“Fair enough.”

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

June 15 (tues)

It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her.

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her.

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry.

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one.

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.”

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?”

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.”

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.”

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home”

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered.

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh.

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said.

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off.

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging.

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?”

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.”

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right?

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said.

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight.

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.

#hockey imagine #hockey writing #pierre luc dubois #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey imagines #nhl writing #nhl

152 notes · View notes

aquarii-writes · 4 years

Text

NAME HEADCANONS

Requested: no

So it's very clear that Grace names the Hargreaves children. I like to think that Momma Grace would look around to see where the kids were born and pick names from that area

Luther(Number 1)

Luther is a specifically English/Germanic name. In english it means 'army of the people' it's also the name/surname of many influential people. Such as the creator of Lutheranism and MLK. I feel like Luther chose this name because it made him feel strong and like a protector.

On the other hand I feel like Luther is from France. I really have no basis for this he just kinda strikes me as French

Diego (Number 2)

The name Diego holds a very similar meaning to the name James( Diego is literally known as the Spanish version for James). I think Diego may have been from Latin America or the Caribbean. Maybe Momma Grace showed him the name James first and he asked if there was a spanish equivalent.

Alison (Number 3)

Alison is the english version of either the French name Adeliz(meaning nobility) or the german name Adalheidis(also meaning Nobility). I like to think that maybe Alison chose Alison because of its meaning but also it was a pretty name.

I also like to think that Alison was born in Canada or South Africa.

Klaus (Number 4)

Klaus is a Germanic name meaning 'victory of the people' and I think Klaus wanted to at least have something from where he was born. It's also shown within the show that Klaus at least knows a little bit of German.

Speaking of I like to believe that he's German; specifically Prussian. The Prussian part I have to basis for aside from Klaus can also be a nickname for Niklaus.

Number 5

I feel like 5 wanted an actual name but after seeing all the meanings none of the stuck with him aside from Dolores(meaning 'sadness' or 'pain' in latin). He didnt want a name with such a sad meaning so he later names his mannequin Dolores.

I think Five is likely from the UK or Italy. Not sure why I think this.

Ben (Number 6)

Ben is a shortened form of the Hebrew name Benjamin(I think that's Ben's full name). Benjamin meaning 'son of my right hand'. I think Ben would've liked this name purely for its simplicity and just shortened it to Ben.

Very specific but I feel like Ben is from San Francisco.

Vanya (Number 7)

Vanya seems to be a gender neutral name but mostly given to girls. The name itself means 'god is gracious' I think Vanya would've liked the name simply because of how long she was told that she was normal. Maybe thinking that even in this situation that she was in god was gracious to let her stay. I also think that she wanted to keep something from her culture and I'd assume at the time Vanya was the only russian name they could find

In the very first episode we see a baby girl born in Russia and I think its safe to assume that Vanya was that baby girl.

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua headcanon #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #alison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #tua luther #tua diego #tua allison #tua klaus #tua five #tua ben #tua vanya #tua imagine

49 notes · View notes

overheardatthecontinental · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 19: Vampire

If Helen was being truthful, which she often tried to be, her new neighbor was… odd.

For starters, she had never seen him move in. One night, she went to bed and she swore the house was empty but when she woke up and opened her curtains, she could see furniture inside.

He was a night owl in the truest sense of the word. She couldn't remember ever seeing him before the moon rose but he was nowhere to be seen in the morning before work. Even on the weekends, there was no evidence that anyone was in the house save his parked car in the driveway.

After two days, the house was under construction. Every single window was replaced with tinted windows and soon she cannot see into his house. Not that she was spying. Not at all. She was just curious.

Another thing was that damn car. She looked it up and it cost as much as her little house.

That, factored in with the cost of installing tinted windows, he had to have money. Plenty of it. So why was he living in a small cottage in the suburbs?

It takes a week before she actually catches sight of him.

He is tall and dark and handsome and familiar. She knows him, vaguely.

Often, she sees him at the bar she tends in the evening. He’s a bourbon drinker and a fantastic tipper. Quiet though. Most people who drink at the bar come to have someone to talk to. They crave the ear of anyone who will listen, otherwise they’d drink at home.

Not John, though.

He didn’t even talk to order his drink anymore. She’d see him and pour him the bourbon and he’d murmur a quiet thanks. Often, she didn’t even see him leave. He stayed till just before closing and then he’d disappear into the night.

A few times, she’s seen him standing out near the alley. Always alone.

She waves from her porch and John walks over.

"Helen." He greets, "how are you?"

"Im well, John. I guess we’re neighbors now."

He lips quirked up in a smile, "Couldn't stand living in the city any longer.”

But knowing who her neighbor was did not make him any less strange.

Yes, John was always polite but it didn’t take away from the strange feeling she always got when she was near. Even at the bar, she got the feeling that she should be wary around the handsome man. The hairs on her neck would stand on end almost in warning.

But it seemed so silly to be nervous.

She blamed it on the attraction.

John was a gorgeous guy and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt another’s lips on hers, let alone anywhere else.

Soon, she started seeing him out and around in the neighborhood. It wasn’t all that strange. Of course he would habit the same grocery stores and pharmacies that she did. But she noticed that the grocery cart was nearly always empty. He’d buy a pack of beer or paper plates and the like, but never once did she see him buying food.

He had to eat, she told herself. No man with a physique like that got away without eating.

She saw him at the park, as she walked home from the subway. Again, standing by a tree, not doing anything. He didn’t even have his phone out. He would just stand there, staring into the darkness.

Weird, but not wrong. Certainly not illegal.

He offered her a ride home, one night when it was raining. The subway wasn’t terribly far but the walk from the station to her house was long enough to get her soaked. She accepted, ignoring the hair on her neck and the feeling in her stomach and every other warning her body gave her.

"How long have you worked here?" John asks as they climb into the car.

"Eight years or so? I teach second grade during the day but teaching pays shit and I needed extra money to pay for supplies for my class. And I found I enjoyed tending bar." She buckles and looks over at him, "it's a bit of a hole in the wall. How did you find it?"

His lips twitch, "I used to spend some time there back in the day."

It's Helen's turn to smirk, "you make it sound like you're so old."

"I'm older than I look."

She looks him over, not that she hasn't a hundred times before, whenever he is looking away. He's fucking gorgeous. If she had to guess, she'd place him in his late thirties. Maybe early forties, but only because he had the look in his eyes of someone who had been through a lot.

In truth, she knows nothing about him but his address and his favored drink.

“You know,” she says as they pull out of the parking lot, “I don't think I have ever asked, what do you do for a living?”

“Not sure I'd call it a living.” John says and that smirk just grows, “I’m a bit… nomadic. I tend not to stay in one place for too long so I do a lot of independent contracting. A lot of investing.”

It doesn’t feel like a real answer, Helen notes. He’s said a bit but he hasn’t really told her anything and that throws her for a loop. What is he hiding?

But that isn’t the right question to ask aloud so she settles on, “Where else have you lived?”

“I was born in Belarus.”

And again, she is thrown.

He has no distinguishing accent. Nothing that indicates he is from anywhere but the United States. It’s not that uncommon in New York to find people from all over but still…

“I’ve lived in Italy. Mexico. China. Spain. Russia. Canada. France. Most recently, I was in Reykjavik but I always end up coming back to New York.”

Again, her mind is blown. Utterly and completely. And he’s tossing out this information like it’s nothing and it’s completely overwhelming.

She glances out her window, watching the streets go by. She watches a raindrop race down the window as she tries to process all that. She sees herself in the reflection and is utterly underwhelmed.

She’s boring. A school teacher by day, a bartender by night.

She isn’t unattractive but she’s a dime a dozen.

She’s never left the country, not even to go up to Canada.

And she’s sitting next to this quiet man who has seen the fucking world.

She looks past herself in the reflection and her heart skips a beat. She looks for John but cannot see him. She can see herself. In the back, she can see the reflection of the steering wheel, seemingly turning of its own accord. She can see the street behind them but she cannot see John.

She looks over, sharply, and sure enough, he is there. Driving.

Helen settles back into her seat, wondering anew if he can hear her heart racing.

Or if she’s being crazy.

Because she can see the other window. She can see the reflection of herself and of the lights passing by but she sees herself almost as if John isn’t there.

She looks at him and he glances over, almost to unassuming.

Helen swallows and sits back in her seat. “It must be hard.” She says, “Moving to countries where you don’t speak the language.”

“I speak them,” John says.

“Which?”

“All of them. I make it a point to learn the language of everywhere I’ve ever lived.”

“So you speak Russian and Chinese and French and Spanish?”

“Among others.” His words sound like a taunt. They feel like a taunt, although they’re not belittling. Like he’s challenging her.

Helen can barely breathe.

No.

She was being crazy. She’d had far too little sleep.

John had a reflection, she just couldn’t see it because she was exhausted.

And there was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why his house and car had tinted windows and why she had never once seen him during the day.

She had to be exhausted to even be considering…

They pull into John’s driveway and Helen quickly thanks him for the ride before she rushes, nearly running, to her house. She closes the door behind her. And locks it. And the windows. Even the ones she normally leaves open on the second floor, she locks.

And maybe she’s being paranoid but she can’t help it when she sits at her computer and types “vampire” into Google.

She’s being paranoid.

At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself.

She stays up half the night researching a mythological creature.

And when she passes out at her computer, she dreams of John in old-fashioned garb. In old cities with cobblestones lining each street.

She dreams of John kissing her, intimately, in an empty hall. His head is buried under layers of fabric, between her thighs driving her utterly wild before she quakes around him. Only then does he move, and only inches, to where his teeth sink into her thigh.

She wakes up in her bed, alone, and gasping for air.

It felt so real, she checks her thigh for marks and finds none.

In the fresh light of day, she shakes it off. She acknowledges that she was being ridiculous to even consider the possibility that John was a vampire.

Its utterly ridiculous.

But he's not coming out of his house.

She tells herself she's making the cookies as a thank you and not to try to get John out of his house during the daylight. In reality, its both.

They're chocolate chip, because who doesn't like chocolate chip?

She waits for them to cool before stacking them neatly on a plate and covering it with wrap.

He’s home. His car is in the driveway. It’s parked where he let her out last night so she’s fairly certain he hasn’t left since they arrived.

This is ridiculous she thinks again. She’s analyzing his every fucking move and John, for all his weirdness, has never been anything but kind to her. And here she is, acting like he has something to hide just because he’s eccentric.

Another part of her argues that this is just a thank you for said kindness. For saving her getting soaked on her commute. For that unending kindness.

She knocks on the door and waits.

Nothing.

She knocks again and listens intently. It doesn’t sound like anyone is coming.

Because the sun is out.

Or because he’s sleeping.

She tries one last time before she gives up and leaves the cookies on the porch, walking away feeling a bit defeated.

If he had come to the door, she could have assured herself she was being crazy.

But he hadn’t, so now she was feeling paranoid.

She took out a legal pad in her kitchen and sat down.

Side by side she wrote the most ridiculous list she’s ever even considered in her life.

Proof John’s a Vampire:

He’s from fucking Belarus

He spoke way too many languages for any person who lived a human lifespan to pick up. (Or he’s just wicked smart… Or lying?)

Hot as fuck

He doesn’t live in one place for too long (cuz people will notice he doesn’t age!!!!)

He says he’s older than he looks

Says he used to hang out at the bar but I’ve never seen the owner or any of the other bartenders talk to him

I’ve never seen him during the day

TINTED FUCKING WINDOWS. No normal person needs fucking tinted windows

Wealthy but won’t say what he does for a job?

Never seen him eat

Helen banged her head into the table.

Fucking ridiculous.

She was definitely losing her mind. And figuring out whether or not her neighbor was a vampire was not how she wanted to spend her day off, so she left the pad in the kitchen and went to read on the couch.

Helen relaxed, reveling in the freedom of actually having a day to herself. She did her best to enjoy the time and not think about her attractive, weirdo neighbor.

She made dinner for herself and ate watching the news. When she was finished, she poured a glass of wine and relaxed back to some rerun of a cooking show she hadn’t seen before.

And then there was a knock on the door.

She checks her watch. It’s nearly eight and she certainly doesn’t have friends who would come over this late without sending a text.

Helen climbs to her feet, heart already racing because, of course, it’s after sunset.

Maybe he’s just doing this to fuck with her.

Maybe he’s just been lying and teasing and trying to get into her head like some sort of psycho. That had to be more realistic than the truth, she thinks as she goes over to the door.

She peers out of the look-see and sure enough, John is on her porch.

Does he just wake up and throw on a three-piece? She wonders, opening the door. Granted, he’s technically missing his suit jacket but who wears a dress shirt and a suit vest on a Sunday night?

“John.”

“I wanted to say thank you for the cookies.”

“You’re very welcome. I hope you enjoyed them.”

The corner of his mouth twists, “Absolutely delicious.” John pauses, “May I come in?”

She feels her eyes widen and hopes that he doesn’t notice but he just fucking asked permission to come inside? That was a thing, right? That vampires need permission to enter houses?

He blinks innocently but it doesn’t feel at all innocent.

“Is everything alright?” John asks, “You look a little… flushed.”

She’s being ridiculous.

Helen shakes her head because John is not a vampire but she might be losing her mind. Maybe she needs to check herself in somewhere... “Of course. Come in.”

John steps through the door and the paranoid part of her wonders if she’s just made a terrible mistake.

John looks around and Helen wonders how she never realized how big John is. He’s tall and, without the jacket, she can see proof muscles on his arms that she had never noticed before.

“You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I truly appreciate the cookies and you thinking of me. You’re very kind.”

“No, thank you. I’ve made that walk in the rain before and it sucks.”

“I was happy to do it. In fact, I’m at the bar most nights. I’m more than happy to stay and give you a ride home on a regular basis.”

“I couldn’t impose.” And you kind of scare the hell out of me, “Can I offer you a drink? I have water, juice, and wine?”

“Wine, if you don’t mind. And it’s no imposition. Like I said, I’m there anyway. And we are neighbors, after all.”

Helen offers a small smile as she turns towards the kitchen.

His words seem nearly laced with honey and it both excites her and kind of disturbs her.

Everything about John, vampire aside, screams dangerous.

And she’s invited him into her home and he’s almost a bit too kind. She doesn’t know what to do with that and it feels like her brain is fighting itself about John.

The logical part of her is telling her to calm the fuck down because John has been nothing but kind. The paranoid part of her is screaming VAMPIRE VAMPIRE VAMPIRE. The primal part of her seems torn between telling her to run as far and as fast as she can because John is dangerous and tearing that stupid suit off of him and jumping him then and there.

Instead, she manages to ask, “What kind of wine do you like?”

“I prefer red.” And it’s such a simple statement but his words tumble out like a taunt that just sets her on edge even more.

Helen goes to the cabinet and pulls down a glass of wine, hands shaking ever so slightly.

She has an open bottle of pinot noir in the fridge and she pours the wine as carefully as she can. It sloshes a bit over the edge and she wipes it with a dishtowel, feeling her cheeks burn even more at the small spillage.

She turns to hand John the glass and nearly drops it at the full-on smirk that graces his stupidly attractive face. She left out the list and John is reading it.

“Hot as fuck, huh?”

And it seems impossible, but her face feels worse than when she has a fever. She’s certain she must be red all over and she has absolutely nothing to stay to it because what can she say?

I know it’s ridiculous but I thought you were a vampire?

John steps closer, leaving the legal pad behind and he takes the glass from her hand and sets it on the counter behind her. With his other hand, he reaches for her chin and tilts her head up just a bit, forcing her to look into his eyes.

He whispers, “You really are fucking clever.”

Her eyes widen at the implication because no. No. She was definitely wrong and John was definitely messing with her but he smiles. He really smiles, not just a smirk. He bares his teeth and Helen swallows at the sight of long incisors.

Fuck.

“You should have trusted your instincts.”

He steps closer and Helen, as a result, steps back and finds herself completely enclosed. She is pressed against the counter, completely enclosed in one of his arms while the other trails down her neck.

She can’t run. She sure as hell doesn’t stand a chance if she tries to fight him.

“Are you going to kill me?”

John tilts her head upward, “And why,” He bends his own head down, brushing his lips against hers but not kissing her, “would I even think to destroy such a jewel?”

His arm around her tightens and she is hoisted off the ground and into the air. Instinctively, she throws her arms around her neck to keep balanced and John smirks at her, almost victoriously.

Before she can say anything, he is moving impossibly fast. She closes her eyes at the rush of dizziness that fills her at the speed and opens them only as she feels herself falling. Her back hits the bed and she bounces, sucking in a gasp as she does.

And John is on top of her before she can even acknowledge what is happening, the quick turn in events that had her from scared to terrified to, fuck, John is sucking on her neck and she is horny.

A vampire is sucking on her neck.

She hears a wanton moan and, Christ, that must have come from her.

She presses her thighs together as an ache spreads down her body, warming her tummy and sending the blood rushing south.

John’s hands tear the fabric of her cotton shirt into pieces as he rips it clean of her body before doing the same to her bra. She doesn’t even complain as John lowers his head and sucks a nipple into his mouth. He rolls it with his tongue and teases it with his teeth. The fang toys with it, dragging down her breast and the sharpness makes her whine with a sick mix of pain and pleasure.

And then it sinks into one of her veins and his teasing is suddenly a thing of the past as he sucks and swallows around her tender flesh.

Her hand jumps to his hair and Helen realizes, idly, that she’s encouraging this. Forcing his face against her, not letting him move even as her head feels dizzy.

A large hand slides down her body and into her sunday sweatpants. A finger swipes up her slit, teasing her clit and checking her arousal.

John releases her and quickly slides down her body, ripping her sweats and underwear off with the same vigor that he had done to her shirt. She’s certain they’re destroyed but she doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Not when John is plunging two fingers inside her and curling them just right so that she thrashes and writhes on the bed. John holds down her leg with his spare hand and continues his minstruations as he sinks his teeth into her thigh.

Helen shrieks, but not with pain, as John sucks on her thigh while his fingers dance inside of her. Helen isn’t sure which is more pleasurable, his mouth at her thigh or his fingers inside of her but she knows she has never felt like this. Lightheaded and pleasured and desperate and needy all at once.

He sucks and swallows while his thumb rubs at her clit and Helen wonders if she’s actually crying because there are tears spilling down her cheeks at the wanton desperation of it all.

Nothing has ever felt so good. So raw.

He could drain her of all her blood right now and she would probably say thank you so long as he didn’t stop toying with her clit or moving his fingers around inside her. She could definitely die like this and be happy.

All of the sudden, he pushes up slightly off her thigh. Just as quickly, he descends upon her other, sinking his teeth into the femoral artery. John sucks at her flesh and Helen feels her head spinning all the more.

Why does dizzy feel so good?

His thumb speeds up along her clit and his fingers roll against the spot inside her that makes her mind melt like cotton candy. Helen comes, crying out in surprise at how quickly John had been able to completely undo her.

She feels him swallowing against her thigh as she writhes beneath him.

He’s brought her pleasure to new heights and he hasn’t even begun undressing.

Helen reaches down and grabs his hair, tugging up.

It’s laughable, really, her attempt at strength in the midst of an orgasm but John acquiesces and releases her thigh from his mouth. Blood dribbles down his chin and she has the sick urge to lick it.

John climbs back up her body. He unfastens his belt, his pants as quickly as he can before pulling himself out.

Helen finds herself licking her lips at the sight of him but it’s quickly taken from her vision as John lays down on top of her body, angling the head of his cock towards her core. With a single roll of hips, he impales her onto his length and Helen finds herself arching her back, keening at the contact.

John bends his head down to her neck and she feels his tongue tease her pulse point before she feels the quick sharp of fangs digging into her throat.

His hips move against her, driving him in and out of her slick heat while he frantically swallows against her neck again and again.

She sees stars and she still isn’t certain what it’s from.

She’s lightheaded and it shows when she tries to lift her leg to wrap around John and she finds she can’t lift it. It barely registers, however, because his hand is between them again. He keeps thrusting, keeps sucking, but now his fingers are teasing and rubbing her clit and a scream escapes her. He feels so fucking good, everywhere, and his expert fingers are bringing her back to that height of pleasure.

John drives into her as deep as he can and Helen, again, feels herself falling further and further, through the stars and into the dark.

She can’t open her eyes but she really can’t bring herself to care.

She can still feel John, pistoning in and out of her and a small rip that sounds like something tearing open. Her head is tilted up and something forces her mouth open and places something against it.

“Good girl,” she can idly hear John whisper to her, “Swallow it down.”

And as he says it, she feels something pouring into her mouth. Salty and rich and warm. It fills her mouth and again, John urges her to swallow.

She does and she hears John’s quiet praises. “Good girl. Keep going. You’re going to be mine forever.”

Helen feels consciousness slip away.

And everything is black.

#kinktober #john wick kinktober #kinktober 2020 #overheard at the continental #incorrect john wick #john wick #john x helen wick #helen wick #helen x john wick #vampire! john wick #vampire keanu reeves #vampire #vampire au

61 notes · View notes

willow-lane · 3 years

Text

I saw [WILLOW LANE] at a coffee shop in [BROOKLYN] today. I forgot how much [SHE] looks like [MADELYN CLINE]. They are a [TWENTY-THREE] year old [WAITRESS] who’s been in NYC for [A YEAR] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [SPONTANEOUS AND FREE SPIRITED] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [NON-COMMITTAL AND SELF-INDULGENT]. [OUT OF THE BLUE BY KATIE PRUITT] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. / @villagestart

Hello everyone! I’m Ella and I’m super excited to be part of this roleplay and introduce Willow to all of you, she’s a new muse but she’s based on an old muse of mine so I think I have her figured out or mostly lol. I’d love to plot with all of you, so please like this or hmu. If you want my discord, I’d be happy to give it to you, just ask :D

basics

NAME: ava willow lane

NICKNAME: will, lolo, pillow

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: burlington, vermont

DATE OF BIRTH: september 28, 1997

AGE: twenty-three

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

OCCUPATION: waitress

NEIGHBORHOOD: brooklyn

background

Burlington was a dream within a dream, the station next to heaven. A town in love with itself and whose residents gloated about the wooded land, creased by hills, and threaded by streams.

The Lanes were living the typical American dream: the big house with the white picket fence, a large backyard and two perfect children. It was dreamlike.

Their kids could count themselves lucky and Willow Lane certainly did for most of her life. As the youngest daughter of a successful surgeon and a renowned psychotherapist who taught at the University of Vermont, she was taught that receiving an education was the only way to get ahead in life.

Her parents made sure to set their kids to success and while most of the kids from her street were out there playing, she was holed up in her room, reading the stacks of encyclopedia books her parents bought me for her birthday.

As a young child, Willow was filled with a sense of wonder, and encouraged by her curious personality she wanted to learn everything.

By the time she was in the sixth grade, she was smarter than most of the kids in her class, still her parents reminded her every day that she must outrank them all. Her parents took pride in her achievements. They were quick to boast about it in public, but they remained strict in private. Anything less than gold didn’t deserve a place on the wall.

Her afternoons were always full. Whether it was ballet class, french lessons, piano lessons or soccer practice. She had no time for herself.

Then high school started and by then she was overworked. Tired of chasing perfection and only being met with a “try harder”.

TW: DRUGS, ADDICTION, VOMIT MENTION, PANIC ATTACK: While she was still number one at her school, it was taking everything in her to keep it that way. Her parents didn’t know about those panic attacks she suffered at night or how she threw up before any competition. To them, she was handling well and she was very good at pretending but she also had a little secret. In her sophomore year, she was introduced to Adderall and she was quickly hooked. END OF TW

When she got accepted into a prestigious university, her parents didn’t hesitate to brag about how their kid would attend an Ivy League but Willow was mortified.

Back in Burlington, she was the biggest fish in the sea but at Princeton there were students who were better and shone brighter than her.

Maybe it was because she was suddenly cast into a whole new world that was so different from the one she grew up in. Maybe it was because she had harbored a bit of resentment towards her parents for her wasted youth. Whatever it was, by the end of her freshman year, university had swallowed her up.

TW ALCOHOL, DRUGS, DEPRESSION She got into a bad crowd, drank herself into oblivion, partied harder than anyone, and developed a penchant for bad boys who were much older than her. All this while trying to maintain a perfect GPA. Thanks to her magic pill, she was able to function and not feel guilty about not being as perfect as her parents wanted her to be. After all, she was only trying to recover the freedom that they took from her.

But this coping mechanism only turned to worse. The more she tried to drown her feelings in alcohol, the harder it came to bite her in the ass. It was clear as water: Willow Lane, picture perfect daughter, was depressed and had been for a while, and now it had caught up to her.

She was fighting a battle she was slowly losing. Willow was in a constant state of helplessness, staring into the void, and completely unable to pull herself out of it. If it hadn’t been for the upbringing she had, she would have been completely fine with self-destruct. END OF TW

The summer after her freshman year, she came back home and decided to have a talk with her parents. Her parents sat across the table, and they were not celebrating the end of a successful first semester, instead, they were fuming with betrayal.

Willow told them that she had dropped most of her classes and she explained to them how she was exhausted beyond repair. They were displeased, so disappointed that looking at them was painful. For the first time in their life, their perfect daughter had failed them.

By the end of the evening, her father was livid. Threatened her that if she didn’t take more classes and got excellent grades he would stop paying her tuition. That’s when it hit her. To her parents, she was nothing but an object, an accomplishment to brag about to her friends. That was not love, that was selfish and a wake up call.

She packed up her stuff that evening, went back to Princeton and emptied her dorm as well as she dropped out completely.

Freedom at last. With only a few bucks in her account, she bought a random bus ticket that took her to Montreal, Canada where she stayed for a couple of weeks, while working as a waitress before she moved to a new location. For the past three years, Willow has been living off a backpack.

She moved to New York a year ago, but she comes and goes. Whenever she gets bored or too attached to someone she escapes.

She’s been clean for three years when it comes to Adderall, although she still drinks but only socially.

personality

Despite her strict upbringing, Willow is a free-spirit! She’s always looking for a new adventure and she wants to live her life to the fullest, she doesn’t care about rules or schedules. She lives a pretty hedonistic lifestyle, always chasing a high in life and sometimes that makes her take some reckless decisions. A naturally loving person, Willow is always there to lend a shoulder to cry on or offer to wipe off your tears, however, she does struggle with connections. If she feels a deep connection with someone she runs away as she believes that being attached to someone will tie her up to one place and as we know, Willow lives a pretty nomad life. She keeps coming back to New York because she loves the vibe but when she gets bored or overwhelmed she leaves without warning. As loving as she is, she can also be ruthless and cold, especially when feeling vulnerable. She has a sharp tongue and it’s not afraid to hurt some feelings if that means shattering the pristine image some people have of her.

headcanons

She has a rib cage tattoo that reads “Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.” It’s a quote from Sylvia Plath.

Speaks French fluently and sometimes she likes to pretend she’s a lost French tourist just for fun.

Volunteers at the animal shelter. Because she doesn’t have a set home, she can’t have a pet but she loves animals.

Never has enough battery on her phone and sometimes she sings in the subway to earn some coins because she tends to forget her wallet.

Really good friends with the homeless woman who lives down her street, she brings her food from the restaurant.

Keeps many scrapbooks from the places she’s been.

Sometimes she goes to music stores and plays the piano, one of the few activities she enjoyed as a child.

Loves reading and whenever she’s not getting in trouble or working, she’s at the library.

Wears too many rings, so don’t try to mug her.

connections

Older brother: Willow has an older brother who followed her parents’ plan. He graduated college and now has a very important job. Willow hasn’t spoken to him in three years, even if he’s tried to contact her. She just doesn’t want any ties to her old life, including her family.

“Best Friend”: I put it between quotations because she doesn’t stay in one place long enough to actually form long lasting friendships but this person is the closest to that. She adores them and actually sends them a postcard when she leaves.

Partner in crime: As stated, Willow is pretty reckless and she does a lot of stupid shit but she’s always seeking for someone to be her partner in crime and just go crazy with them.

Co-workers/Clients: She works as a waitress at a restaurant (if your character has a restaurant let me know, bc idk where she would work).

Neighbor: She lives in a small apartment in Brooklyn with two other roommates, it’s not ideal but it’s what she has.

College friends/hook ups: Oh during her college year, she was a party girl and she made a lot of “friends” (She attended Princeton btw) and also hooked up with a lot of people (f/m/nb), most of them were older than her.

Flirtationship: She is a natural flirt and she doesn’t even try to hide it.

Unrequited: Maybe your character has a crush on her (and depending on chemistry maybe she does as well but since she moves often she tries to ignore it). It’s angsty, it’s fun, give it to me. (f/m/nb)

Hook ups: Y’all know the drill

Bad tinder date: Willow thought it would be fun to go on a tinder date and she proposed some crazy scheme and they both had to spend the night in a jail cell.

Roommates: She lives in Brooklyn with two more roommates.

#villageintro #tw alcohol #tw drugs #tw depression #this is SO long and for what

7 notes · View notes

x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 4 years

Text

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE) on RockOverdose: “Our new album “The Bitter Truth” is really encouraging and empowering!”

After a quite long time, Zisis Petkanas and Katerina Mitika from the Rock Overdose family participate in a cool talk with Jen Majura, the latest member from the legendary Evanescence, and they come to know everything about their first album with entirely original material after 10 years, the long-awaited “The Bitter Truth” that is set to be released at 26th of March, in addition to how they deal with the pandemic situation.

RockOverdose: So, hi Jen, and welcome to RockOverdose Greece! How are you?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Hi! Thank you so much for having me, I’m doing great, thank you.

RockOverdose: I think it’s been a long time since our last interview.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): When was that?

RockOverdose: I think it was 2017.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Was it for “Inzenity”? My solo album “Inzenity”?

RockOverdose: Yes.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Oh my god, that’s a really long time ago. Really? It doesn’t feel that long, wow, okay.

RockOverdose: We had one interview when you first joined the band.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): True, yes, I remember that. How I got the geek and everything! Yeah (laughs).

RockOverdose: I think it was via mail the first one and via Skype the second.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Exactly yes, exactly. And now look at us, all professional on Zoom with this pandemic situation! (laughs)

RockOverdose: Yes, now we are at Zoom! (laughs)

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): (laughs) Who knows what’s next, you know? (laughs)

RockOverdose: So, how about the pandemic situation, how are you living through this?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): I cook a lot, I dived into acrylic painting, I knit socks… (laughs)

RockOverdose: Oh, you knit!

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Yeah, it’s really tough because for the past, not 2020, nobody knew that 2020 would be the, excuse my French but shit year that it was. My life before that was only touring, airports, hotels, venues, tour bus, airplane, jet lag, airplane, hotel, venue, all the time nonstop for years and I’ve always complained, I was like “Oh man, I wish I had more time to practice my instrument and write more music”. What 2020 taught me is out of a sudden you force to stop, you’re forced to slow down and really you’re forced to stay home. At first I thought “I’m gonna play so much more guitar” but I didn’t, and “I have all this time on my hands and I can write my third solo album”, but what happens is when all of that, all of the things in your life, all the inspiration is been taken away from you and your only inspiration is your couch in your living room. It’s quite hard to come up with music and creations, I mean, what am I supposed to write? The couch blues? (laughs) It’s hard and I really believe in 2020, I have never ever ever ever, since I’ve started playing guitar, played less guitar than in 2020. It can be scary, really. I talk to a lot of friends of mine and I’ve realized this is not just me, it’s a lot of people just not knowing how to deal with this pandemic situation, or maybe by now knowing, of course, because you tried to distract yourself from like I said, with cooking, painting and other creative things, but it’s really not like “Oh you have all this time on your hands, now I wrote 3 albums”. It’s not like it, it’s unpredictable.

RockOverdose: It depends, because other musicians used this time to write songs.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Some of them, yes, but not all of them! (laughs)

RockOverdose: By the way it was such a good idea, a good time to rest from touring and start other things that you didn’t do. Now, during the pandemic, you have time for other things.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Yeah, and I appreciate that, especially I really enjoy cooking and painting and other things and having time for the first time. I feel, in 16 years I was longred home than just 2 months and I appreciate that time, but for right now if you ask me what my biggest wish is, is “Please, give me my life back and let me go out and play shows for the fans”. I miss connecting with the fans and no livestream online can replace that energy exchange that you have with your fans.

They give you so so much and I also believe I talked about this with my Something on 11 partner, Alen. I also believe that this pandemic situation will make us be grateful for a lot of things that had been annoying in the past, like “Oh my god I have a 2 hour lay over in London at the airport ughhhhh, sucks”. No, doesn’t suck. From this day on whenever we’re back to touring, no greasy, overpriced airport food will suck, no dressing room time to wait for the show will suck, nothing will suck, no jet lag would be bothering me ever again. I’m gonna be thankful having all these things happening in my life, right? I really believe we’re gonna come out of this pandemic as more people that appreciate and value things way more than we did before.

RockOverdose: So, let’s go on with your new album.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): What album? Just kidding (laughs), this is my favorite thing to do! That was like, “Let’s talk about the new Evanescence album” and I go like, “What album? Well, there’s a new album? They didn’t even tell me, I’m not even on it”. No, I’m just kidding (laughs).

RockOverdose: And the journalist stacks. (laughs) I was like, “Did I ask the wrong person?”.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): I’m sorry, it’s just a stupid joke (laughs). Ok, here we go.

RockOverdose: So, I think you like jokes, I suppose.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Me? I never laugh, I’m very serious, I’m German. (laughs) Ok, let’s talk about the new Evanescence album, come on.

RockOverdose: Yeah, that’s the point. So, when did you start the writing process for this new material?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): I believe the writing process started already in 2019, but actually it started 10 years ago, because one of the songs called “Take Cover”, I believe Amy wrote it, I think 10 years ago. So, you have all these ideas on your iPhone and your voice messages but I remember when we got together in Canada after playing Heavy Montréal in Canada, we went all the way into the Canadian woods into this beautiful mansion and just spent time together as a band. You know, writing together as a band, it’s just something really beautiful that is so different from what a lot of people think. A lot of people think that Amy comes up with the songs and she goes like “Here, play what I tell you to play”, but it’s not like that. We really worked as a group together, everybody had different ideas that he or she brought to the table. Canada was amazing. The last time I saw Amy and the guys was February last year when we met up in Nashville in Studio X, I just finished playing in Los Angeles the numbshell and flew directly to Nashville. We met up in the studio and recorded the first 4 chunks of songs. Everybody went to the airport and said like “Oh ok, bye, have a safe travel back home, alright see you next month, bye”.

If somebody would have told me in February that I’m not gonna travel back to the States and see my friends for the rest of the year, I probably would have had a good laugh or something, I don’t know. Nobody expected, this just happened right after that I came back home and then out of a sudden, boom! Lockdown! And I’m like “Ugh, what?”. So, the recording process for the album was was different than how I pictured my first original musical album with Evanescence, because I saw us all together in the studio instead of me at home all by myself and just sending files. I mean, thank God for modern technologies, so it was happening, it was possible but I think what I missed most was when you’re in a room recording with an awesome producer like Nick and maybe having Amy sitting on the couch in the corner of the room, you play something and there’s always a little feedback. Amy would go like “Oh, this is beautiful, try this again, oh this is amazing, what a great idea!” or Nick would say “Hey, do that again but try a little bit more, punch, try a little bit more, this or that” and I didn’t have that feedback, I didn’t have that input from the others. So, what happened was that Amy and the guys, they met up in the States and they were able to meet up in person, of course with all the testing and being careful and social distancing and you know, but they created the songs in the moment. In the beginning, there were talks about doing face times and having me involved but it’s just not the same, you have to be in one room as humans and everybody gives their input and that’s how you create stuff.

Then, they would send me the files that they have recorded and it was very sweet, Amy kept updating me every day, she was like “Oh, today was like this and that” and “today we did this and then Troy did that”, it was really sweet. Then I just recorded the guitars, my parts, here in Germany at my home studio and sent everything over to Nick, but, like I said, without that feedback from Amy or Nick or Tim or Troy or Will. I mean, I really appreciate every single band member and I’m glad that they give me input, I think you can only learn and become better, but there was no feedback, so I did another take, and another take and another take, I’m a perfectionist, you know. So, after taking out about 2000 guitar tracks I’m like “Ahhh Jen, man, you have to make up your mind, goddammit, just send something to Nick!”. So, I sent over the files and his first response was “Awesome!”. I remember tracking for this one particular song called, it’s our latest single that came out like 6 days ago I think, “Better Without You”, they sent the files and I listened to the song and when it finished I was like “I gotta listen it again” so I listened again. I think I listened to it 5 times in a row and then I texted Amy and I said “You know, I think the song is perfect the way it is, I’m not gonna lay any guitars on top of that song just for the sake of me playing and me showing of or credits, I don’t function like that. If a song is perfect and it doesn’t demand any more guitars, I’m not gonna play” and then I said “What shall I do?” and she’s like “Sing.” and I said “Ok, alright, I’m gonna sing on that album”.

This is something that makes me really proud, this is the first time ever in the history of Evanescence that there’s another female vocalist recorded on an album and I couldn’t be more proud about this, really, it’s beautiful. I learned about singing with Amy during the Synthesis Tour when we toured with orchestra. There were absolutely no tracked vocals, nothing, no samples, no backing vocals, nothing, it was just Amy and me singing. I think the qualities of a really good backing vocalist is when you’re able to blend in with the main vocalist, you don’t wanna push that main vocalist the way with your voice, you wanna support it, you wanna make it shine, make it bigger. I think that our two voices match really beautiful and yeah, I’m just really proud that yesterday I received my copies from the label of the new album and I looked into the booklet and it says “Jen Majura - Guitars and Vocals”. I was so proud, I’m like “Oh, this is amazing, so cool” (laughs).

RockOverdose: Yeah, it’s great! In how many songs do you sing for this album?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Oh God, you asked me now? I think 5 or 6. I think so… I’m sorry, I can’t remember it, it’s so long ago when we recorded that stuff. It feels so long ago, it’s not long ago, but in the pandemic times, you lose track.

RockOverdose: Yeah but it’s really great that you are not doing backing vocals but also main vocals to this album.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): No no no no no, that’s wrong, Amy is totally the main vocalist.

RockOverdose: You are not main but you support Amy.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Yeah, exactly, she is the voice of Evanescence and that’s completely perfect the way it is, but I just added my backing vocals and the choruses sometimes in the verses. It’s just been beautiful working on new song material because I got into the band in 2015 and all the music I’ve been playing so far sort of has been written already, so you can revisit it and listen to what she recorded back in the days for backing vocals, and you just learn what she did and you sing on top of the backing vocals of hers, right? But this time it’s new songs, it’s new energy, it’s new lyrics and everything is new in, so you’ve got this freedom to create and point out ideas like question-and-answer vocals like in “Better Without You” and it’s been beautiful. I’m really really happy that I was able to deliver some background vocals for the new album.

RockOverdose: Great. Jen, from where you were inspired for the writing of “The Bitter Truth”?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): As I said, I’ve been part of the writing process for the beginning but then not so much for the second half of the album, but if you take a look around on planet Earth so much is happening. You know, there’s so much that you have to process these days. I don’t wanna dive into politics, but also not only politics in the States, politics all over the place. There are so many movements, the climate change, so much is going on our planet these days and I feel like 2020 taught us that we are not in control of everything and we had to learn to kinda go with the flow. This album is an empowering, energizing feel, it’s like an inspiration to be real, to stop denial, to stop faking and just be real, face reality, that’s the bitter truth.

Even you, all of us humans, we have bruises, we have scars, we are not perfect. It’s ok to be weak sometimes, it’s ok to be vulnerable, we are humans and we need to stop this Instagram filter “I am so perfect, I can’t even believe how perfect I am”. Also, I believe that we as humans need to stand up for, to fight for the right thing, you know, not fight fight, I mean not punch anybody but have a voice because your voice matters and it matters more than ever, to just make the planet heal again and change things for the better. I really see this album as something that is really encouraging, it’s an encouraging, empowering album. I can’t wait for everybody to hear all the songs. Really, we couldn’t be more proud.

RockOverdose: Great. So, what about the feedback from the press for your new album?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Oh, everybody was like “Oh my God, Evanescence put out a new original album for the first time in so many years!” and the fans! Every single we put out, I think the 5 singles that we put out by now, are very diverse. You can’t really compare “Wasted on You” which was the first single with “Better Without You” and I truly believe “Better Without You” might even be one of the heaviest songs Evanescence ever put out there. They’re very diverse one of another and it represents the variety of the sounds and the songs on the album perfectly, and the fans just love it. I mean, just imagine you love Margherita pizza and you have to wait like 9 years to get your next Margherita pizza. Did I just compare our album to Margherita pizza? But you know what I mean! (laughs)

RockOverdose: I suppose you are a little hungry!

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): I’m hungry, I haven’t had dinner, I’ve been talking all day. I’m hungry yes!

RockOverdose: Ok, so, what are your next news regarding Evanescence?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): This is a question for my boss, I can’t answer that. First of all, it’s we all wait for the album release, this is gonna be amazing and exciting and you know.

RockOverdose: And I suppose you are looking forward to support it by touring.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Ok, it’s very odd to put out an album and not having a tour attached to it immediately after the release. You know, it’s just first time ever in my life that I’m involved in an album release without a tour coming up straight away. So far, we still have the tour in September-October with Within Temptation, a European tour, and, like I said, the one thing we have to keep in ourselves and our guts and our cores is hope, because I really really really want to play that tour and just be back, but it’s unpredictable, you don’t know and nobody knows. We have to wait and see but we definitely have to hope to be out there soon and rock again and support the album. I mean, we try to do the best that we can, give the fans little things to connect with us but it’s just hard, everything is online…

RockOverdose: Yes, I agree. Are you planning to do maybe a livestreaming show?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): This is another question for my boss, not for me. (laughs)

RockOverdose: Ok, (laughs) so, let’s go on with personal questions.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Oh God no, personal questions, no I’m not answering those! (laughs)

RockOverdose: But I will ask! What are your greatest influences as a musician?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Oh God! Ok, I think spoken for the musician and person that I am today, I believe, when it comes to playing the guitar, one of my biggest influences is Mattias IA Eklundh of the Swedish band Freak Kitchen. He’s not only a very dear heart friend but he’s also something like my life guru, there’s so much wise stuff coming out of that guy. I like his approach, the way he sees things and he’s got this style of playing with the over-harmonics. I found it so fascinating that I find myself adapting that to my style of playing, it’s like I’m the merge of me and part of his playing. So, I think he is a big big big influence. Recently, people keep telling me that whatever I play sounds a little bit like Steve Vai. I feel very uncomfortable with that comparison because Steve Vai is just, I mean, come on, it’s Steve Vai! And I’m like, “I’m just JenJen”. It’s a very charming complement and maybe they talk of certain scales or brain wired ideas that I have, I don’t know, but that was coming up lately a little bit.

And I think Amy inspires me, really, because we have a lot of things in common but I respect her so much as not only a fabulous musician, not only a vocalist, but musician. She’s a strong woman, she knows what she wants, she is the leader of this group that I’m allowed to be part of and I think she is a big inspiration in my life as well. And a good friend.

RockOverdose: And how do you feel for being an Evanescence member so far?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Well, what can I say, come on. Ever since I joined the band it’s been a cool ride. Touring with Evanescence is like being on a big vacation that is amazing with your best friends and then, on top of that, you get to play these amazing, awesome, fulfilling shows. I feel like I’ve been eating so much bullshit in the past that I am allowed to relax a little bit now in this band. For the first time, I have a band with where everybody is friends. I thought this is not the norm, I thought there’s always gonna be like the one stinkface, but it’s not. Evanescence is like, not only the band but the crew and the whole team, we’re all one. That’s a very very beautiful thing and I really cherish that a lot. Yeah, well, minus 2020 right? Because it’s been such a good, great year! (laughs)

RockOverdose: Ok, so, which is your favorite Evanescence song?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): To play live?

RockOverdose: To play live and to listen to.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Um, I might have to renew that now that we have new songs, but I first of all have to play the songs live to decide if I wanna change up that list, but so far, it’s been always “Disappear”. The song “Disappear” is my favorite track because it’s such highly energetic and we trade solos, Troy and I, and I just love that song. To listen to… Oh, I don’t think that anybody has ever asked me that… You know, the beautiful thing, the beauty about music is that you listen to music and it can create emotions and, like, videos in your eye in your head: landscapes, sceneries, pictures.

Music is creation and when somebody listens to music and gets all these visions and emotions and pictures, that is the goal of music. You don’t make music for the sake of money, that’s definitely not what you do. You do it because music is touching and it’s touching your soul and if music really is touching, this is the goal. So, I believe, I have moments where I’m like “I love to listen to “Made of Stone””, then I have moments where I’m like, I don’t know, “I love to listen to dreamy stuff like “Lithium””, it’s hard to say. You can’t really tell because it always depends on the mood.

RockOverdose: I have to agree with you. Do you have any other side projects?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Oh yeah, we released an album, Something on 11, working with a partner from Croatia, another guitar player called Alen Brentini and we released an album, I think, when was it, November? I think November Friday the 13th (laughs) and this is just a fun project. The meaning of Something on 11, when we put our heads together to think about writing music together, the core of Something on 11 is to literally show the middle finger to mainstream. Middling, well, you have to have a certain song structure. No you don’t.

We have a song with a hookline, a chorus that is a guitar melody but there are vocals in the verse, I mean, who the hell does that? We also have a song with a giant, big drum solo in the middle, right in the middle of the song, or a couple of songs where you would have a big, dynamic breakdown in the song and then you have tabla and dobra and synth sounds and the song is breathing. It’s just very unconventional songwriting. I am singing, I’m playing guitar and Alen is singing and playing the guitar. We put that out, I think, mainly for ourselves because it’s been a lot of fun working on these songs and they are all very crazy and diverse, kind of like the style of my solo album “Inzenity”. It’s very very diverse and very enjoyable to listen to, very playful.

RockOverdose: So, what are your memories from our country, Greece?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): It was hot. I’ve been to Greece exactly once in my life. I think it was a festival, right?

RockOverdose: Yes.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Wow God, it’s just been so long ago, was it 2017? It’s been long ago, and I remember I was so excited, I said “Oh my God, for the first time I’m gonna come to Greece and I wanna walk around and find a local market” and “breath it all in, the culture, the food, the people”. I was so excited, and then it turned out it was so hot that I couldn’t even open the window of my hotel room. It was just so hot! And we gathered, we had a band dinner, it was a beautiful restaurant and we could see the Acropolis, it was really beautiful, and the food was great, but the only thing that I was concerned about was I got my makeup running down, my contour is, like, I’m sweating like crazy, it’s just too hot! (laughs)

RockOverdose: Too hot, yes! It was at Rockwave Festival 2017.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Thank you, so that was when it was and I think that also in the backstage it was super hot. I had to jump into my stage pants and I was like, “Ughh am I ever gonna make it into those leather pants and make it out of those leather pants again after the show?”, it was just really really really hot. I hope next time we return I will get a little bit more time because I so much want to experience the country and the culture. This is the beauty about when you tour, you get to see countries like Brazil or Japan, Australia and it’s so exciting and so beautiful, but if your shoes are melting when you’re walking outside, this is not fun to experience a culture! (laughs) It was just too hot!

RockOverdose: My God, it was too hard!

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): I felt like I had, I don’t know, 60 degrees or something, it was just way too hot! (laughs)

RockOverdose: It was on July, I think.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Super summer, in the middle of summer, yeah. It was tough! So, dear Greece promoters, if you hear this and you wanna book Evanescence, please book us in Spring or Fall so that I can go to a local market and buy some olives and experience the Greek culture a little bit more than instead of putting us into an oven!

RockOverdose: (laughs) Would you like to leave a message to the Greek fans and your fans worldwide?

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Especially to the Greek fans, because you’ve guys been so amazing, I’m following everything that our Evanescence Greek Fan Club posts and you’ve guys been so supportive and loving and passionate and we can’t, really can’t wait to come back to play for you live and connect with you again!

RockOverdose: Great! I have to thank you for this interview.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Absolutely, sure, anytime!

RockOverdose: I will let you now to rest, I don’t know if you have another interviews afterwards.

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Thank you! I will stop talking now! (laughs)

RockOverdose: And have some food!

Jen Majura: Yes, I’m gonna eat something, exactly. Not sure what I’m gonna make, maybe I’m gonna use some feta cheese right? Because inspired from this last interview. Overbaked, filled mushrooms or something.

RockOverdose: Or pizza Margherita!

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Or pizza Margherita, exactly! (laughs) Thank you so much for this chat, it was just so much fun to reconnect and be back with you! Thank you so much, that was fun!

RockOverdose: Thank you, thank you! Bye bye!

Jen Majura (EVANESCENCE): Have a beautiful evening! Bye!

#Jen Majura #Evanescence #2021 interviews

4 notes · View notes

tarry-a-lot · 4 years

Text

French Musical Recommendations/review (Part 2)

I should have mentioned in part 1 but I don't speak French (well a bit but not enough to understand the lyrics unless I’m reading it or something) so if the lyrics aren’t that good my bad I honestly wouldn’t know,

Also this is in no particular order, I don't think all the shows mentioned in part 1 are better than the ones mentioned here, there will be a part 3 at some point

1789 Les amantes de la Bastille: I think this may be my second or third (ties with Mozart) favourite French musical based solely on soundtrack, it’s about the siege of the Bastille and the days leading up to it with a focus on two lovers Ronan a revolutionary and Olympe Marie Antoinette’s children’s governess (the actress who played Olympe was also Guinevere in roi Arthur musical), my favourite songs are “Sur ma peau” and “La rue nous apparent” it is available in full on YouTube, IMPORTANT: This show has two endings, I don’t want to spoil so perhaps skip what I’m about to write though I will try to be vague: the scene before the song “fixe” at the end, the two characters switch place mattering on which version your watching, one version was done towards the start of the run and late 2013 they seemed to have made the change, the full version uploaded and the dvd have the original ending (I personally prefer the original but the other is not bad as well). also in 2012 when the show was staring with the showcase costumes are really different and you’ll find Ronan is played by Matthieu Carnot who plays Lazare in the full production later on instead because he had vocal issues resulting in getting replaced and given a more minor role (I think he’s great in his new role though, “Maniaque” is a bop)

Non-music: I have yet to see it in full but from clips the lighting is great and really adds to the songs and emotions, the story is pretty straightforward but nice, and the choreography is good from what I’ve seen, also for a “historical” show the costumes aren’t that bad, I would assume not accurate but a good balance of inaccurate and historical looking enough

Japanese Toho ver. (1789 バスティーユの恋人たち) 2016 clips are available on YouTube, the costumes in this version is fun, it’s non-replica but they really went off on Olympe’s costume, I will be honest a little bit sad about Ronan’s yellow jacket being replaced with a dark blue, also one of the Ronan actors (Olympe, Ronan and Marie-Antoinette are double casted) looks too old, especially compared to other Ronan actor who really has the young energetic vibe about him (though if memory serves me correctly his sur ma peau was strangely annoying to listen to)

Takarazuka ver. 2015, clips are available on YouTube if Japanese title along with “宝塚“ is added in search

Notre-Dame de Paris: a musical based on Victor Hugo’s novel of the same name, it is different from the Disney musical, this is another popular French show, if you like Romeo et Juliette you’ll probably like this, it can found in full on YouTube along with different translations/adaptions, I won’t go to in depth on different version on here like I did for R+J but if your interested the Wikipedia page is quite detailed and can tell you about all the casts and cast recording available, I have yet to watch it in full but so far I think Belle and Le temps des cathédrales are my favourite songs (quite basic I know), it’s one of those shows you can’t go wrong with, from the parts I’ve watched and listened I think it could become one of my favourite shows

Non music: From the bits I’ve seen the wall backdrop is really cool, It has nooks and platforms that appear and disappear and it’s just really cool looking, WARNING, this is a bit of the spoiler so maybe don't read what I’m about to write but if you’ve read the book its not that much of a spoiler but there is a hanging scene at the end so if that imagery is something your sensitive to please be wary, it’s at the end (on the YouTube video of the full original show its from 2:03:42-2:03:54)

Don Juan: I love this show (I strangely found parts funny and a bit cheesy which is why I liked it), It’s pretty much about a man Don Juan who is a know heartbreaker who is only into sex drinking and having fun but no love, he then falls in love with a woman, shocker, and conflicts arise from there, honestly I don’t see a lot of content for this show but I think it’s fun, the dancing is primarily flamenco (music is heavily inspired by the dance as well) and it’s impressive, the singing is great, the full show is available on YouTube, my favourite songs are probably “Les fleurs du mal” and “Jalousie,” It opened in Montreal originally then went to Paris, the full show is available on YouTube (I think the Paris version) and there is also a full 3 and half hour behind the scenes video of the Paris production online, from what I can tell up till the symphony version of 2019 Don Juan and his love Maria has been consistently played by Jean-François Breau and Marie-Ève Janvier (obviously there were understudies and such) the actors are also married/were dating during the show which adds to it when you see them perform together

Non-Music: a character described with black hair in the song chorus is blonde/brunette and I thought that was hilarious, some strange choreography with Don Juan especially in Jalousie, he walks up and down stage and it’s awkward, aside from weird parts in general the costumes are ok (gets better in later productions), the set is plain but with some fun props, I think the dancing is probably one of the highlights along with the live band present on stage for certain songs (photo from Quebec 2013 production)

Don Juan (Théâtre St-Denis) 2004 Montreal, also had Canada tour after its Montreal premier in Feb.

France Tour 2005 Palais des Congrès à Paris performance recording and behind the scenes is available on YouTube

Korean Tour 2006, the French cast touring, non-costume concert versions and actual performance clips are available on Youtube

Korean Cast, 2009 (March~) (뮤지컬 돈 주앙) separate from the tour which was the French cast touring this is an all Korean cast, act 1 and 2 can be found on YouTube (video called “돈쥬앙 1막“ and “돈쥬앙 2막“) though it seems to cut around so It’s like a pieced together version of the acts, other clips are also available, it is a replica production

2012 revival Montreal, from what I read it only had 10 performances? and with it released a cd with new recordings, “nous on veut de l'amour“ and “L'amour Est Plus Fort“

Grand Théâtre de Québec 2013 (August 9-18), you could call this a continuation to the revival in Montreal

Takarazuka ver. 2016 (June+July) (ドン・ジュアン) the page is still up on the takarazuka website for this production, there’s a ad with clips from the show available on niconico (should come up if you search the title in jp and add takarazuka in jp) also this version Don Juan is strangely more touchy with his friend, not mad guess it adds a new tension to the plot, non replica production though it is quite similar to the French one, they don’t stray too far

Don Juan Symphonique 2019 (Feb 12-16): At the Montreal Symphony House they had a concert version with the original cast (or at least the original Don Juan and Maria), along with the OSM (Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal)

Japanese ver. 2019 (August/September + December) it’s non-replica, there’s a trailer for it online but it only features Don Juan, I found blog posts about it but currently while I write this it’s late so perhaps I’ll update with more info later, maybe not

Moscow Concert 2020 (March 17-22) (Дон Жуан or Don Juan) This is still in French with a French cast but this time the leads are no longer the original, Laurent Ban is now Don Juan, supposedly according to a Russian video it was meant to go on tour after Moscow (State Kremlin Palace) but I’m assuming the issue with the virus changed plans, I’m surprised they were going to go on world tour I honestly think it’s not true, the interview with cast can be found on YouTube with bits of songs, however the Russian concert advertisement is only a recording from the 2005 French, from what I can tell it is a replica, I believe it was cancelled before the premier due to Covid-19

The research for this show took me all day, maybe if I was fluent in French it would have been faster, if I’m wrong in parts feel free to comment and correct me and I’ll edit it

Les Trois Mousquetaires: Not to be mistaken with the Broadway/Westend show of the same name and base material from 1928 with the revival in the 80′s or the other three musketeer musical at the North Shore theatre in 2007 (the one with Aaron Tveit and Kevyn Morrow), or the other musical by George Stiles and Paul Leigh, this is an entirely separate 2016-2017 musical that follows the general plot of the literature it’s based on though simplified, it’s ok, not great but not the worst, I probably would rank it lower than roi Arthur, I will admit I haven’t listened to the full show, it’s quite catchy, my favourite song so far is probably “Je t’aime c’est tout,” there is a showcase concert in full, music videos and official soundtracks available on YouTube but I would advise checking out the live versions, the ensemble backing parts are really great and they get cut out in the recording versions which really cheapens the songs for me, In general ok show, really not the best but has its highlights (like the four lads relationship is fun to watch, dancing is great, singing is good),

Non-Music: Athos the oldest of the 3 musketeers is actually the youngest actor though he is a few year older than the D’Artagnan actor, It’s minor I guess but I didn’t realise who Athos was until looking up the cast list and was shocked, Also Athos really doesn’t sing because Brahim Zaibat who plays him is a dancer, despite this his dancing skills really add to the fight sequences making them very impressive and fun to watch, it’s more concerty in style and a bit interactive with the audience, from what I can tell the sets seem plain and the costumes are really awful (in my opinion) like Athos’ shirt is so revealing to the point he might as well not wear a shirt, also Constance’s outfit is just a no for me

#1789 les amants de la bastille #notre dame de paris #les trois mousquetaires #the three musketeers #Don juan #musical theatre #French musicals #takarazuka #musicals #theatre #rambling

21 notes · View notes

harley-sunday · 4 years

Text

10 Things I Hate About You [04]

Summary: Based on the RomCom ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ we follow the reader as she tries to win over Bucky Barnes so his best friend can finally go on a date. Entry for @arrowsandmixtapes RomCom Challenge

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (f) & Steve Rogers x Maria Hill

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1.5k

AN: Last one, guys. Hope you enjoy :) ♥

Masterlist

There have been a few curious looks from the group of recruits Nat trains on Monday afternoon, some of the hushed conversation reaching you where you sit against the wall. They wonder why you’re here and he’s not, because did something happen to him? Did you guys have a fight? They always knew you were a bitch anyway. You’re about to tell them to stop it, but then Nat does it for you and so you’re once again left alone with your thoughts.

Because did you really think he’d show up for your training session after what happened yesterday? Of course not.

Still, here you are, waiting until the two hours you’d normally spend training together are over, like some sort of act of penance. Not that it’ll do you any good, but you’ve always been a bit of a martyr and so this suits you just fine.

Nat has offered to go talk to him, explain him that this was all her idea and that while it maybe started out as a project for you, you ended up really liking him. You doubt it’ll do any good and so you’ve told her not to bother after you made her promise that Maria gets to ask Steve out on a date, because you really want to at least have one good thing come out of this.

A quick glance at your watch tells you your two hours are finally up and so you push yourself up with a sigh, ready to head back to your room. You run into Maria in the locker room but she just smiles at you, knowing it’s best to leave you alone right now.

Tony has you working on translating some French documents and so that takes your mind off of things for a while. The work is boring and not really what you signed up for when you joined, but at least you’re doing your part and he seems genuinely happy when you hand him the translated files already Wednesday afternoon. He doesn’t make you leave his office until you’ve pinky-promised him you’ll come to his party on Saturday and you wonder just how much he knows about what’s going on between you and Bucky. Probably everything, you think, because that’s just the way things work around here.

By Thursday morning you’ve decided to change your tactics and so you set out on an active search to find Bucky, hoping he’s calmed down enough to let you tell your side of the story. The compound is big and so it takes you a couple of hours to make you rounds but you still can’t find him. You wonder if he’s purposely avoiding you or if he really isn’t here.

It isn’t until you run into Pepper and she informs you he’s picking up supplies with Sam somewhere in Canada that you start to worry this might never get resolved. On your question if they’ll be back by Saturday comes an evasive answer from Pepper and so you’re still not in the best of moods when the big night’s finally here.

You’re in a corner somewhere, nursing some Asgardian liquor Thor told you would help take your mind off of things even though all you’re experiencing so far is feeling a little light-headed. You’re watching the crowds, smiling when you see Steve and Maria talking, heads close together, her hand on his forearm. At least that worked out, you think to yourself, your smile turning into a frown then when you scan the room but still don’t see Sam or Bucky, a quiet, “Fuck,” escaping you.

“Can you at least try to look as if you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Can you at least try to mind your own fucking business,” you bite back at her, before taking a sip of your drink. It burns in your throat but you don’t really care because why would you?

“Ooh, see that, there,” Nat says with a grin, “Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” you mutter. You’re not being fair and you know it, but still. It feels good to blame someone other than yourself for this shitshow.

“I told you I’d take care of, didn’t I?” She says, bumping her shoulder against yours before she takes a sip of her drink.

“Nat,” you whine, “I told you not to.”

She scoffs, “Like I’d listen to you.” A nod of her head then, “There’s someone waiting for you on the balcony.”

You follow her gaze and your heart skips a beat, because there he is. “Shit,” you mutter quietly. Your voice a little louder then, as you turn to her, “What makes you think he’d even listen to me?”

“Because I told him to,” she says matter-of-factly. She takes your glass from you and gently pushes you forward, “Go.”

Taking a deep breath you cross the room, focused only on him even though you see Maria laugh at something Steve says out of the corner of your eye. You remember something then and so you stop at the bar, helping yourself to two bottles of beer from the fridge that you open before you continue. You hesitate when you get to the door, but then it’s like your body has a mind of its own and before you realize it you’re stepping outside, standing next to him, “Hi.”

“Hey,”

“I still owed you that beer,” you say as you hold out a bottle to him, your voice a little high-pitched because fuck, you’re actually nervous.

He takes it but doesn’t say anything and you start to think this has been a mistake. But no, you want to at least try and you really have nothing to lose, so you turn towards him, clearing your throat before you start, “I’m sorry.”

He just nods.

“Someone asked me to take this really great guy out on a date,”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you step in front of him now, looking up at him, surprised when he locks eyes with you and he doesn’t look as mad as you expected him to be. “I screwed up. I uh-,” you try to smile, “I fell for him. But I think he ended up hating me.” Biting your lip you look down, waiting for, well, you’re not sure what.

“I don’t hate you.” His voice is barely above a whisper and you’re not sure you’ve heard him right, but then his finger’s under your chin, making you look up at him, “I don’t. I hated what you did, but,” he smiles then, nodding towards where Steve and Maria are seated, “I guess it was for a good cause. And I realized I probably would have done the same for Steve.”

“Oh, thank God,” you whisper, a sigh of relief then, a little disappointed when he lets his hand drop.

“I still think you owe me a beer though,” he says with a grin, before he finishes the one he has in his hand.

“More than one, I’d say,” you offer. Then, a little braver than you feel, but fuck it, “There are some cold ones in my fridge if you wanna get out of here.”

He throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, his voice low when he says, “Thought you’d never ask.”

EPILOGUE

You find him in the garage, bits and pieces from a motorbike he’s restoring spread out on the floor and on the workbench he’s standing at. He looks focused and so you wait until he’s finished tinkering with one particular piece until you greet him.

He wipes his hands on a piece of cloth before he turns to you, hands cupping your face before he brushes his lips against yours, “Hey.”

Smiling into the kiss you sneak one hand into his hair and pull him closer, opening your mouth just enough for him to bite your lip. You moan and his hands move to your hips, lifting you onto the workbench with ease. Parting your legs so he can stand between them he you feel him press against you and you know you’ll be making your way upstairs soon. You pull back ever so slightly, making him groan at the loss of contact, but you just smile, “I have something for you.”

“Is it better than what we were doing?” He looks at you intently, “Otherwise I’d much rather just go back to that.”

“Here,” you say, ignoring his comment. You hand him the package and watch as he carefully unwraps it. His eyes light up when he turns the frame around and sees the picture that’s inside.

“How did you get this?”

“I asked nicely,” you say with a shrug, watching him as he studies the picture that until yesterday was hanging on the wall at the pub he took you to on what you consider to have been your first date.

“Thank you,”

“Happy one-year anniversary, babe,” you say before your grab his shirt and pull him close, your lips ghosting over his, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

- FIN -

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #RomComWC #Harley Sunday x Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes

21 notes · View notes

goingoverthegardenwall · 5 years

Text

Chapter 8: Babes in the Wood

In this last hurrah of explicit homages to animation of the past, the most obvious discussion point is Merrie Melodies and its ilk: Babes in the Wood is essentially a full-episode reference to the bouncing musical shorts of yore, where everything can sing’n’dance and the villain is a blustery bozo who’s defeated with a sight gag. If we expand to children’s entertainment in general, as we did with Greg’s Beatrix Potter episode, then The Wizard of Oz is our logical next step: the song welcoming him to Cloud City owes everything to Dorothy’s introduction to Munchkinland, complete with the fact that our hero has just entered a dream.

And look, there’s nothing wrong with talking about the obvious. But as we near the end, I think it’s a little more interesting to instead explore the very beginning. So let’s go back to a newspaper cartoonist in New York—the one who inspired fellow New York newspaper cartoonist John Randolph Bray to become an animator, which in turn led fellow New York newspaper cartoonist Max Fleischer to become an animator, because it turns out that just like the birth of superhero comics a few decades later, the birth of American animation hinged on print artists who dreamed big in the city that never sleeps.

A boy named Zenas was born in Michigan on September 26, 1871. Or maybe he was born there in 1869. Or maybe he was born in Canada in 1867. He said one thing, and a biographer said another, and census data says another, and I wasn’t there. It’s similarly unclear when or why he started going by his middle name, but by the time he took his first job at age 21 (or 19 or 17) as a billboard and poster artist in Chicago, he was calling himself Winsor McCay. They sure did know how to name ‘em in the 19th century.

McCay began his newspaper career as a freelancer, but moved to New York in 1903 to work for the New York Herald, where he wrote a variety of comics before hitting it big with Little Sammy Sneeze. McCay’s art was always brilliant, but his gag work was formulaic to a fault: the joke for Sammy Sneeze was always the same, he would sneeze and ruin everything right before the last panel. That devotion to formula would continue in his second big comic Dream of the Rarebit Fiend, where a fantastical events would occur for ever-changing characters before the lead woke up in the last panel, revealing it was a dream.

That second formula was the basis of McCay’s masterpiece. Already a successful cartoonist in the two short years since he’d moved to New York, his fame skyrocketed with Little Nemo in Slumberland, which used the same “wake up at the end” formula but with recurring characters and a running story. He toyed with the medium like none had before, playing with panel arrangement and innovating the portrayal of motion in comics, and his art skills only improved with this full-color strip. His success led to the vaudeville circuit, where he turned the act of drawing into a performance, and this combination of stage entertainment and his continuing comic work led him to seek new ways to dazzle the crowds.

By 1910, the earliest animated shorts had already started to emerge, and McCay was inspired by pioneers like James Stuart Blackton and Émile Cohl to try animating the characters of Little Nemo. Under Blackton’s direction, McCay singlehandedly drew around four thousand fully colored frames to produce his first animated cartoon, presented at the tail end of a filmed short about said cartoon in 1911. As mentioned, animated shorts were already a thing. But none of them looked anything like this. (If you’re concerned that there might be racist caricatures in it, don’t worry, there definitely are, McCay had a lot of strengths but overcoming garbage prejudices was not one of them).

The sheer quality of his work, continuing with the legendary Gertie the Dinosaur, directly led to the invention of the rotoscope as a means to mass-produce cartoons of similar finesse. The influence of Winsor McCay over animation as we know it is hard to overstate (and let’s stress again that this was his side gig, and he was just as influential over comic art): as crazy as it sounds, it’s safe to say that Over the Garden Wall would not exist if not for a story about the whimsical adventures of a little boy who traveled across a land of dreams from his bed.

“Where’s Greg, Wirt?”

Babes in the Wood is delightful and goofy and lighthearted exactly once.

In the same way our fourth-to-last episode mirrored our fourth, this third-to-last episode mirrors our third: Chapters 4 and 7 focus on Wirt, but 3 and 8 are Greg’s. It’s not simply a matter of who the main character is, but what these episodes are about: Greg’s love of fun clashing with his drive to help others. Both times he's spurred by the desire to help others to go off on his own, both times he gets distracted by whimsical wonders involving funny animals and physical humor, and both times he ends up deciding to help out anyway. But despite switching his goal from making the whole world a better place to just helping his brother, the stakes are actually far higher now, so the fun has to be that much more fun if we want the full horror of the ending to sink in.

There’s no tonal shift in the series that’s more devastating than Greg falling prey to the Beast after nearly ten minutes of goofiness in Cloud City. It turns a moment of welcome relief from the growing tension of Wirt’s despair into a dagger in the heart, and the knife is twisted when we learn in our next episode what the Unknown truly is.

That despair is evident well before Wirt explicitly gives up. We get our second opening in a row featuring Beatrice in a hopeless search, and things aren’t much better for the boys. All sense of progression from the first episode feels lost, with Wirt reverting to mumbling poetry and Greg reverting to Rock Facts. Their boat is an outhouse and Greg uses a guitar as an oar, because (if you’ll pardon my French) they’re up shit creek without a paddle. When they land, Greg’s victorious bugle is a ridiculous sign of hope, but he soon drops it in the same way he abandons the guitar: in Schooltown Follies he takes instruments to help others, but this time he loses them.

Wirt’s frustration with Greg threatened to boil over in The Ringing of the Bell, only to be cooled when the Woodsman interrupts them. This time there’s no such interruption, so after Greg’s total failure to read the room gets to be too much, his brother finally snaps. It crucially isn’t entirely unjustified, as Greg’s antics might be funny to us but have not been appreciated by Wirt, and despite Greg’s age excusing his lack of emotional intelligence, it’s still gotta be frustrating for a teen to deal with that behavior nonstop. And Wirt’s “tirade” reflects his depression, because he doesn’t even seem that angry: he doesn’t shout or rave, he’s just openly irritated as he argues that they’ll be lost forever. This is apathy and fatigue, because he’s lost the energy to be furious.

But the most chilling part of the exchange isn’t Wirt cruelly blaming Greg for their mess, or abandoning their search. It’s when, after Wirt asks if they can give up, Greg responds with a chipper “You can do anything if you set your mind to it!”, a sentiment that the Beast will fiendishly repeat verbatim while tricking Greg. It’s such a generic positive expression that Greg hangs a lampshade on it, but it shows the darker side of the power our minds have over our well-being. Sure, it’s a great lesson that focus and dedication can help us achieve our dreams, but if we use that focus and dedication towards self-destructive behavior, there’s no limit to how badly we can hurt ourselves.

After a goofy sort of prayer (incorporating lines from the classic Trick or Treat poem, which will become super relevant an episode from now), Greg is whisked away by so-creepy-it’s-funny cherubim to the score of a so-overwrought-it’s-funny song. His flight aboard the bed/cart pulled by a donkey across the sky feels legitimately magical, but we soon switch to the surreal world of 1930′s songs and physics.

Cloud City is such a stark contrast to the tone of the episode so far that it instantly feels delightful, and such a stark contrast to the tone of the entire series that it lends a special sort of wonder to Greg’s dreamland. References to old cartoons are everywhere in Over the Garden Wall, and before we delve into the tension of our last two episodes, we get one last gigantic celebration of the past with a sequence straight from the golden age of animation.

The transition alone is enough to make this scene hilarious, but the actual jokes help quite a bit: Greg’s growing impatience with the numerous Wizard of Oz reception committees is my favorite gag of the night. Everything is cute to the point of being cloying, including our three angels that look and sound an awful lot like Greg, and the parade that he leads seems like such a fun and peaceful affair after so much time wandering alone. It’s easy to get as roped into it as Greg when we first watch it. But considering the events of our next episode, the scene destroys me every time I rewatch it, because there’s a very specific place Greg is being welcomed to.

Babes in the Wood gets a lot less cute when it becomes clear that it’s a welcoming committee for a dying child. Greg and Wirt are drowning, and this is the episode where the shock wears off and the cold sets in and the younger and weaker of the two looks into a bright light. Greg’s near-death experience is hammered in when we get to The Unknown, but for now it’s being rationalized in a way that brings him comfort.

The cold is Greg’s enemy, and the same childish tone is used to show that he’s willing to fight for his life: thus, the North Wind segment is ironically more hopeful to me than the parade’s warm welcome of death. This third song sounds enough like a Randy Newman number that I’m honestly still convinced it’s an uncredited Randy Newman performance, and it jolts us back to reality for a moment as we see the effect this bitter wind has on our babes in the woods. The boys are starting to freeze, and we again see Beatrice searching for them, getting so close before an owl that looks remarkably like the one we saw in our first episode scares her off. The episode doesn’t want to lose us completely to the sky, and this grounding helps keep the stakes clear as we complete Greg’s dream.

The Popeye-esque battle between Greg and Ol’ Windbag is a hoot, between the latter’s grumbling anger and the former rolling up his sleeve to get back into the brawl. Its conclusion is hidden from us, so we have no idea how Greg gets him in a bottle, but that fits right in with the weird logic of this throwback and allows us to meet the Queen of the Clouds.

I ought to bring up the theory that everything we see here is an illusion created by the Beast, even though I don’t really subscribe to it myself. The most obvious “hint” is that this sequence directly leads to Greg deciding to join the Beast with an off-screen promise, but we also have the old man in the welcoming march wearing an outfit just like Wirt’s and holding a lantern, perhaps a reference to the Beast’s intended fate for Greg’s brother. Plus there’s lines in the songs that seem like they’re luring Greg in, especially the assurance that the wonders of Cloud City “ain’t gonna lie,” which sounds a lot like what a liar would say. Both the Queen of the Clouds and the Beast pointedly call him Gregory instead of Greg, but so does Old Lady Mrs. Daniels (and Wirt when introducing him in Songs of the Dark Lantern).

While it’s a neat enough idea, I think the Queen of Clouds is pretty clearly on Greg’s side for real: she seems upset at his fate in a way that doesn’t make much sense for an ally of the Beast. I also think it’s more meaningful for Greg to truly have the choice between happiness and responsibility, between the possible peace of rest and the definite struggle of life, and for him to choose the latter right as his brother is giving in. But I’ve got no beef with folks whose interpretation of the show is enhanced by this theory, so believe what you want to believe about this ambiguous situation.

Either way, we cut back to Wirt instead of Greg when the dream ends, and he’s still annoyed as he’s trying to sleep. Greg’s strange new seriousness is already cause for concern, and asking Wirt to take care of the frog is even more alarming, but even that doesn’t compare the horror of realizing where he’s actually going. Or rather, with whom.

This is another reason why I think the Queen is an ally: while it’s obviously dangerous for Greg to go with the Beast, that’s what it takes for Wirt to snap out of his funk. It’s a hell of a gambit, but as soon as he starts to awaken, he’s immediately concerned for Greg’s safety despite whatever anger or resentment he had, sparing no time or thought to the branches creeping over him as he runs after his brother.

The quiet distortion as we follow his frantic search is soon met by the Beast’s song, but even as he blames himself for Greg’s plight, Wirt is no longer content to wallow in despair. Because it turns out that these brothers are more similar than they seem, and neither is truly capable of letting the other suffer. In the folk tale for which this episode is named, two children abandoned in the woods eventually die and are covered in leaves by small birds (with some versions seeing them enter heaven), but as we’ll see in our next episode, this isn’t a folk tale.

The thrumming noise intensifies as Wirt slips on the ice, then we add visual distortion as he plummets into the freezing water. He’s saved, but this isn’t water that sees him reborn: the distortion finally breaks as Beatrice asks the episode’s terrible question, and we’re left in the cold.

Every even-numbered episode of Over the Garden Wall, perhaps by virtue of airing twice per night, ends in a mood-setting cliffhanger that grows tenser and tenser with every iteration (or at least it does until the end). First we got a leaf symbolically caught in a fence, then the Beast’s introduction, then the fallout of Adelaide, and now the capture of Greg. Getting trapped has always been a threat for these roving heroes, but the greatest threat of all, that of Wirt trapping himself, has been handled. Things look bleaker than they ever have, but despite the glee of Greg’s dream contrasting with the harshness of reality, Wirt’s ability to climb out of the pit of despair keeps hope alive: even in absence, Greg’s influence looms large.

Rock Factsheet

Dinosaurs had big ears, but everyone forgot because dinosaur ears don’t have bones.

Where have we come, and where shall we end?

Most of these were mentioned in the main analysis, but it’s great that we hear Wirt’s description of Into the Unknown right before the episode itself shows us what happened.

#babes in the wood #over the garden wall #otgw #steven universally #winsor mccay #little nemo in slumberland

115 notes · View notes