#and I don’t want a second master’s degree or to be restarting my life and career again at 24

[waugh-bao]

*

[forabetterlifethanthis]

How to Slow Down Time

Think of a clock. Not a digital one.  One with a second hand.  Not a second hand as in the second of two hands. A second hand to delineate the passing of seconds.  Maybe known by some as a third hand?

 Let me restart. Think of a clock but without the minute or hour hands. Just the second (as in the denoting of time) hand. Now you have your clock.  Adorn it with pretty ideograms for numbers.  Now, can you count to sixty and imagine for every second that you count, the second hand moves approximately one-sixtieth degrees around your clock.

 You probably didn’t do this. If you did, you probably would have noticed that it felt like longer than a minute.

 I’ll set this out another way.  If you were anything like me, during your school days you must remember taking furtive glances at the clock on the wall.  Do you remember thinking half an hour must have gone and then feeling dismayed when you see only ten minutes had gone?

 Conversely, doing your exams.  You think you have ages left and then, much to your chi grin, see that you have only five minutes left, and you still haven’t even started the long-form question inAlbert Camus’ L’Etranger in your French A-level exam.  While that may not have been your exact situation , I shall assume you get my drift. And that is that time passes slowly when you wish that it passed quickly.  And time passes quickly when you want it to pass slowly. Except it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t. We all know it is entirely psychological.

 Back to my clock analogy. Imagine counting those sixty seconds. Do it again sixty times. Then again 1040 times.  Then imagine you had to do those sixty seconds 189,280 times. Seems like an awful lot of seconds.

 That was an ineloquent way of expressing how time passes for me. Slowly. Like a snail with no foot. A big fat bulbus slug making its way up a hot, oily pipe.

 Well, I have now mastered the power to slow down time on a perennial basis. I spend much of the day lying on my bed staring at nothing and thinking about nothing you want to hear about. Wishing for time to pass.  Any stimulation just pisses me off and most of the time I don’t even mind the wallow.

 It has been sixteen days since I had my surgery and it has felt I have been this way for months. I would pay good (all of my) money to be knocked unconscious for two months and be fed through tubes and have one of those machines that turn you over so you don’t get clots. How that sound like the life for me. I have enquired, but perhaps unsurprisingly it is not something offered by the NHS, or any private healthcare institution.

 On the note of private healthcare, I’d like to make a shout out to my private healthcare insurance provider, AXA PPP.  Thanks for refusing to pay for any CBT sessions and thanks for refusing to pay for anything related to my pain, because they don’t fund “chronic conditions”.  If this is litigious, do you really think I care? AXA: you’re shit.  And NHS?  Still waiting!  Our poor NHS. So little money and so many sick people. It’s doomed to becoming an emergency-only service in the coming decade or so. I am on the urgent list and still have to wait months for treatment.  Imagine if you were having to wait for elective treatment. Well actually five million people don’t have to imagine as they have been waiting over a year for treatment.  The saddest part is that if you can afford it, you can get treatment for, let’s say a hip replacement, the following week.  For the same treatment under the NHS, you’d be looking at waiting two or three years. Isn’t it great to see how fair society is becoming?!  Gone are the days that Etonians stroll the halls of power! Gone are the days that contracts are given out to the chums of ministers! Gone are the days that white classically educate men (hello) dominate the highest paid positions of the always egality-driven financial services industry. While there may be more ethnicities and regional representations in both financial and political spheres, it’s still the same.

 Turns out I didn’t apprise you on how to slow down time. I suppose I can summarise it to you in three simple steps:

 Think about things In the future that you want now

Think about how what you are doing right now is what you really don’t want to be doing

Think about the past and all the good memories and sour them with the knowledge that they will never happen again

 Based on my experience, doing these as concurrently as possible will ensure you psychologically a long and unhappy life. Which is what we all crave, in the end.

 You’re welcome.  

[grey-water-colors]

After All This Time (Bucky x Fem!Reader) Part 4

It's short, but I cried writing it. I've hit a bit of a writers block, but I think I've got that sorted out. I just needed to take a thinking shower and I got it. This will be my longest series and I'm trying to eek it out a bit, but I'm still new at this, so please have patience.

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the figurative ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of torture, death, triggers. Mentions of humiliation. Sadness, depression, self-loathing. ANGST. Fluff comes next time I think.

Word Count: 2,066 Shorter than usual, but I think I make up for it in feels.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock at the door startles Y/N out of her thoughts. She hadn’t really left the apartment for anything other than her job, which was only two days a week. Despite having almost completely shutting down, the house was clean.

Y/N opened the door and gaped at the person on the other side.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

Steve just smiled. “May I come in?”

She opened the door wider so Steve could walk through, then shut the door gently. She turned around and watched Steve walk to the couch on the opposite wall and take a seat. She opted to perch on the arm of the wingback.

“To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve laughed quietly, amused with her. “I could say I just wanted to visit an old friend,” he smiled.

Y/N smiled but it fell as soon as it came. “But that isn’t the case is it?”

Steve sighed and she could see the same wear and tear in his eyes that every soldier carried around. He looked older, despite looking only in his 30’s. She supposed war does that to people though.

“I’m here to apologize for Bucky. He was out of line. I could hardly believe that he did what he did. I had hoped that if I gave him time, he would come here and do it himself.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him. I get it. I really do, and to a certain degree, he was right. But I have my own reasons for being here.”

Steve just nodded. “Has Sam told you about him?”

She let out a harsh laugh. “He didn’t need to. I was there. I know full well what he went through.”

“I wish I knew-,” he paused. “I wish I knew how to help. To ease his burden.”

“We all have our crosses to carry, some heavier than others. What we, and hundreds of others, went through was a horrific experience that isn’t easily put into words. He seems better though, right?”

Steve nodded, looking for words, “He isn’t the same.”

“None of us are,” she whispered. “That’s not the point of it though. If you’re trying to get the old Bucky back then you’re beating a dead horse. Help him become who he is now. Someone with more baggage than any person should ever carry. Don’t try to change him.”

“I’ll work on that. Speaking of people who have changed, are you ok? Sam says you haven’t been down to the VA in a while. He’s getting worried.”

Y/N shrugged and looked away. She wasn’t ok, but if she told that to Steve, he would do everything in his power to help her and she didn’t want his kind of help.

She put on a small smile. “If we’re going to talk about people changing, I think we should talk about you. What happened to scrawny Steve? You were my height the last I saw you and now you’re a buff giant.”

He laughed. “I’ve a lot to catch you up on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve. Before you leave, I’ve got something that I was hoping you’d give to Jam- Bucky.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Y/N handed him a letter. The writing on the outside just said ‘Bucky’.

“I’ll get this to him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a knock on Bucky’s door, then Steve walked in. Bucky looked at Steve with a look of sadness and self-loathing.

“What’d she say?” he whispered.

“That there was no reason to apologize.”

Bucky huffed. “Bullshit. I yelled at her. I called her weak and pathetic,” he looked away. “She would say something like that though.”

Steve sighed. “She gave me this to give to you.” He held out the letter.

“What’s in it?”

“No idea. She didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

Bucky nodded, reluctant to open it.

Steve stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll let you read that in peace. I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”

Steve walked out and Bucky stared at the envelope in his hands. It was thick, and there was something small and lumpy in it.

He looked at, debating whether to open it or to put it in a drawer and leave it there till ate him alive. Curiosity got the best of him.

He opened the seal of the envelope with care, being sure not to rip it. When it was open he turned it over and something fell into his lap. His heart dropped.

There, on his lap, was the ring that been used to propose to her with. The last he had saw it, it had been nestled next her dog tags in the master bedroom. Why was it here?

He pulled out the folded paper and opened it. Smaller papers fell out onto his lap. They were old and had yellowed with time. He picked through some of them. His Social Security card, his birth certificate, and his bank papers. Everything he needed to restart his life outside of the avengers.

He finally started reading the letter.

~~~

Dear James,

Can I even call you James anymore? The only other person who called you that was your mother and maybe your sisters. There are so many things that I wanted to tell you when I saw you. To say to you, but then things, well you were there. I feel like I owe you a bit of an explanation.

As you know, I was to leave a week after you. My orders were to fly to London to work there for three weeks, then get new orders. That’s not important though. What is important is that week that I spent alone was torture.

I wasn’t raised ignorant of the troubles of the world. Just like the rest of our age, I grew up in the Great Depression. My parents lost their job, and we almost lost our house. I grew up with the aftermath of the first World War. According to my mother, my father never recovered. War does that to people. It rips away your soul, takes your very being. I knew that.

When the second World War started, I would lay awake next to you and pray that US wouldn’t get involved. It was my worst nightmare. When the US did join, I knew, somehow that our lives were over. You probably don’t remember that I spent almost every waking moment with you. I was so happy when you proposed, but heartbroken as well. I just knew.

Knew that we weren’t coming back.

I spent the days of that week after you left getting things in order. Papers in the lockbox, hide the lockbox key. Cover the furniture to preserve it. I took care of everything. I left the ring in the lockbox.

I spent my nights awake in your chair, wondering what you were doing. Wondering if you were thinking of me. I’ll never know.

I was in Germany during December of 44. I was traveling with a group of soldiers. Everything happened so fast. Gunshots, yelling, blood. So much blood. That shade of red in the snow will always be etched into my brain. The German soldiers took prisoners, I was one of them. Out of the 25 I was traveling with, I ended up being the only survivor.

I transferred into the hands of Hydra. A replacement for a dead lab rat. My predecessor. They tortured me for so long. Wore me down to nothing. Humiliated me for game.

Every night as I laid in my cell, all I could think of was you. The memories of us in those three years. How perfect they were.

Of course, they weren’t perfect. We had fights, but they were never too bad. The apartment itself wasn’t great either, but it was home. The ceiling leaked in the bathroom, the floors creaked in the hallway, and the water took fifteen minutes to heat up. When you’re being tortured though, I guess that the mind only sees the good. I fixated on the apartment. It became the safe place. The only place in the world where the monsters couldn’t get to me. I held onto this place as long as I could.

But as much as the apartment was my safe place, all my memories of it were with you. So you had melted into that feeling of safety.

After they blocked away those memories, I didn’t even know they were gone. I became their puppet, a lab rat with no past or identity. Until I met you again. I didn’t know you, those memories were tucked away. My heart knew you though. I felt safe around you, which didn’t make sense because you were the Winter Soldier. Oh, but we worked well together. We did a couple missions, and I was living off an emotion I didn’t even know the name to.

Love. I didn’t know what that word even meant anymore, or what it felt like, but my heart reminded me every time you looked at me.

In the end, it was my fault that you ended up with the trauma you carry around pertaining to me. I got emotional when it was time to go, and we both suffered the consequences for it.

That happened in 1997. I went onto ice for the last time with a damaged windpipe, minor brain damage, and no memories to speak of. I was sent to Africa, and was going to be undergoing testing there, but my handlers got killed. I remained on ice for 27 years until Wakandan soldiers found me.

Shuri worked for 6 months to get rid of all the damage done to me with help of the notes that traveled with me. I spent 7 more months drowning in everything. I remembered everything. Every test, every horrid thing they did to me. But the worst part was remembering you. Remembering you and knowing what happened to you broke me.

It turns out I was right all along. We weren’t going back. I had to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t going to come back to me. So I reveled in the memories of you. Of us.

I had so many emotional setbacks, I was stuck reliving memories just from small triggers. A wrong look could send me spiraling into a black hole. But then I’d remember the apartment.

I couldn’t wait to go back. The one thing that had kept me sane, alive, and hopeful. The king paid for a plane ticket and I was back in New York. I wasn’t ready.

I had been so stuck in remembering that I didn’t, couldn’t, process the new. Still I persisted, until I could be in that apartment again. I had convinced myself that it would fix everything.

That it would fix me.

But you probably know that isn’t how life works. Those same memories that propelled me and kept me afloat, are now the anchor that drags me under. I’m drowning in the memories, and they cling to me. I’m trapped in a prison of my own making, unable to leave the ghosts haunting my memories of things that will never be again.

I stay awake at night reliving the days where I was happy, carefree, and in-love. But the truth is that I can’t sleep in the bed we shared because you aren’t in it. I can’t look at pictures of us, because we aren’t them anymore. I can’t wear the ring, because we are strangers.

So I live in a museum of things that shouldn’t exist anymore because I can’t move on. This apartment is killing me inside, but I can’t leave because I’ve convinced myself that this is the only place I’ll be safe.

The truth is, I am safe in this apartment, because the only thing that can hurt me here is myself.

Along with this letter, I’m also returning the ring. It belongs to you. I have also included your bank account numbers, so that you can access your accounts. I’m sure you won’t have as much trouble as I did.

I’d offer you a key, but I don’t think you’d ever want to step foot in here again. Truthfully, if I were you, I wouldn’t either, lest you get stuck here too.

Maybe in another life we could have been together longer, but just not in this one.

Love,

Sincerely,

Y/N

[ladygreyhound93]

Mea Culpa and my current perspective for what its worth

I am from the generation that still uses CTRL ALT DEL to restart my desktop.     I remember using floppy disks. The movie War Games was “high tech stuff” in my day. While I am now pretty savvy at SM sites there are still a few things I am not “hip” to about the web. For example, I have NO IDEA what the dark web is and have no intention of finding out. Sounds creepy. My teenager needed to explain to me a few months ago what “cat fishing” was. Because yes, although I know to be wary of people on the internet I still sometimes forget people misrepresent themselves and *GASP* make up stories or tell blatant lies on the internet for a myriad of reasons. 

So when I realized that I was basing my belief that Harry may be innocent in all this on an anonymous person who gave a second hand account (heard from a friend of a friend at BP type thing) that this was the case, I knew I needed to re-evaluate my perspective. I had to ask myself - Why was I so quick to believe this stranger’s account as gospel? The answer was simple - because I wanted to.

 I admit I fell for the ‘Hero Harry’ PR, hard. I still have a soft spot for him because of Diana and seeing him as an adorable cheeky little boy. Watching him walk behind her coffin endeared him to me so much I, probably like his family, forgave the Nazi costume, the partying, the naked pictures, and just Vegas in general. I was a “poor Harry” person for years.

So I went back to my gut reaction when I saw them on TV announcing they were engaged. My FIRST, primal gut reaction. That they had both willingly agreed to be part of some “deal” or celebrity PR type arranged marriage/family contract to boost their mutual popularity. This was not love, this was business. She sold him something he desperately wanted and he took the bait. He tried so hard to push her on the people of the UK and make them like her before the wedding they did an “engagement tour” I mean, WTAF?

My gut also tells me the RF, especially a shrewd Queen who has reigned for so long, would not trust him to “play a part”.  The person she herself titled the “dim ginger” grandson who has done nothing but screw up for 23 years. It is obvious to me (with a Masters degree in Psychology) that he has mental health issues. He has a known problem with substances. Would you trust a person like that with a HUGE government conspiracy secret???  I have a crazy uncle who drinks a bit too much and we don’t tell him where our kids go to school. Harry forgets to wear underwear or iron his clothes. He has worse acting skills than Meghan and horrible control of his emotions. He makes tick like odd facial expressions in public. He has proclaimed he wants out of Royal life. He has always befriended celebrities and even before MM came dangerously close to exposing his very liberal globalist views by who he befriends. This is a not a person one would pick for a “secret mission”. He’s a loose cannon more Cosmo Kramer than James Bond.

What we see is a willing participant in a business deal gone bad. Nothing more. He knows it. She knows it. Their recent behavior is a desperate attempt to try to and breathe life into something that has already flat-lined. 

I should conclude with the fact that I do not hate Harry. I am very, very angry with his choices. But my days of “poor Harry’ are over. He is a grown ass man. Time to start acting like one.

[andrea-lyn]

For your birthday prompt: Malex fic where one of them is a barista and the other one orders increasingly more complicated orders just to have more time to talk to the super cute barista! Also happy birthday, friend!

Some days, Michael questions why he’s the ride-or-die asshole that he is.

Life would be a lot easier if he weren’t. If he were actually as self-centered and selfish as the image he tries to project, it would be easier, but he’s not. For all that he tries to make people think he doesn’t care, he’s the polar opposite, deep down.

Now is one of those times when he’s debating changing his mindset. Though, it usually happens during these shifts when he’s bored, he’s tired of cleaning the counter, and he’s done with his coursework. He’s only here because he’s getting his Masters and has some spare time on his hands, and Maria had seized on the opportunity for help at barely minimum wage, convincing him to come in.

That’s why it had started.

Now, he’s here because of one particularly gorgeous customer who comes in every morning around eleven for a mid-day pick-me-up. “Michael,” Maria calls over to him when the bells jangle.

He also happens to be Maria’s friend, too, and Maria’s made it her life mission to hook the two of them up. It means that every time he comes in, she makes herself scarce along with any other staff so that Michael’s the only person around to serve him.

Michael’s not sure that the guy likes him back, even if Maria insists he does.

“Alex,” Michael greets him. “Hey!”

“Hey Michael,” he returns, putting down his phone as he leans his elbows on the counter. “So, today…”

Then he launches into an order that’s about ten percent more complicated than yesterday’s (which had already been plenty difficult).

Michael calls over his shoulder for coverage at the counter, because Alex’s order is going to take him away for at least a few minutes, especially since Alex had actually asked for the milk in his latte to be steamed to an exact degree, or be thrown away and restarted. “What’s your day looking like today?” Michael asks, still loving the fact that Alex’s complicated orders mean that he gets to talk to him.

Most customers are busy with their cell phones while they wait for their order.

Alex has never once looked at his phone, giving Michael his full attention every time. “Oh, you know,” he drawls. “The usual,” is the sarcastic addition. “I’m going to go in and warn people that their security is terrible, they’re not going to believe me, and then I’m going to have to go in and tear their systems to shreds to prove it.”

He’s smiling a little like he’s a shark who’s scented blood in the water, and is all too pleased about that.

Michael glances back to the milk, making sure it’s frothing properly. “Somehow, I doubt it’ll be a hardship,” he deadpans.

“What about you? Maria said you have your exams next week.”

Michael shrugs. “Yeah,” he says dismissively. Alex leans up on his toes, peering past the counter. Why? Michael has no fucking clue. “Okay, what?” he protests.

“I don’t see any books, no papers…” Alex gives him a serious look. “Do I have to give you the speech about how you need to take this seriously, Michael?”

The milk starts to steam and froth, the thermometer gauge showing the perfect Alex-approved temperature, which means it’s time to pour. He pulls it away from the steam wand and pours before he wipes the counter down, giving Alex a smirk. “Do I need to give you the speech about how you shouldn’t doubt me?”

“Everyone needs to study,” Alex protests.

Michael doesn’t.

Then again, he doesn’t know Alex that well, so launching into the whole ‘I was a child prodigy and the only reason I’m not off with my degrees right now is because I had foster parents who wanted me to have a normal childhood’. It does mean he can spend most of his days here at the shop, not worrying about his grades.

“Michael,” Alex warns.

“Make you a deal,” he says, handing him his coffee. “If Maria tells you I pass with an A, you have to come in here tomorrow and the next day and the day after that when it’s my shift.”

Alex’s face is flooded with fondness as he sips his coffee. “Why would I need to make that bet, when I already planned to come in?” he asks, and sips again. “Perfect. For this, I didn’t doubt you for a second,” he guarantees, and lets his gaze linger on Michael’s lips before he waves to Maria, heading off for the day.

Michael watches Alex go with a happy sigh, mainly because he always wears tight jeans and the view of him departing is one of the best things he’s ever seen. “Do you believe me now that he likes you?” Maria demands.

“You may be right,” he concedes. “He might like me back.”

After all, there’s no way that Alex would be so picky about his milk temperature, not without a deeper purpose. Seeing as the only reason he would get so complicated and picky with his orders is to spend more time with Michael, it’s fairly strong evidence that he definitely likes Michael.

“What are you going to do about it?”

He’s got a few ideas up his sleeve.

“Man like that, he deserves to be wooed,” Michael says.

Maria’s looking at him warily, and she doesn’t say it, but it’s like Michael can see the thought bubble above her head that reads, what do you know about wooing people?

Not much, but isn’t that what the internet is there for?

Michael decides to launch a campaign of charm, romance, and he intends to do it using the foods of love, found on a site that talks about aphrodisiacs. Every time Alex comes in, he gives Michael a wildly complicated drink order, so it shouldn’t be hard to mix a little bit of that in.

On Monday, he begins his campaign to romance Alex.

It doesn’t start well.

“Michael,” Alex says warily after he sips his drink. “What’s in this?”

“Powdered oysters.”

“That’s…really not what I ordered.”

“We’re trying it out,” he says, his eyes fixed on Alex. “Do you like it?”

Alex musters up a smile, but slides it back. “Thank you?” he offers, “but I really think that I’d like to have my drink without any powdered seafood.” He gives Michael a look like he’s trying to figure something out, but follows it up with a mildly sarcastic, “I’m also pretty sure you shouldn’t be risking fate with anyone who has seafood allergies by sneaking that in.”

Michael doesn’t let that knock him off his stride. So it didn’t work, so what? It’s only the first try.

He remakes Alex’s drink and basks in the sunny smile it earns him, loving how Alex reaches out to squeeze his hand in thanks before he heads off with drink in hand (a complicated layer drink that required Michael to wait a whole minute before adding the next, lest it all collapse and lose the effect Alex had asked for).

Michael makes a few more attempts to introduce aphrodisiac elements into Alex’s coffee and snacks to see if it does anything. The truffle oil he uses on his breakfast sandwich gets a dubious look, and the hints of champagne in his smoothie don’t go over well. That’s why Michael saves the best for last.

At least, he’d thought it was the best.

Alex chokes a little when he sips his hot chocolate, which Michael has loaded up with actual pieces of dark chocolate. “Michael…”

“Yeah?”

“This is like sludge. This is the fourth time you’ve done weird things with my order. Are you trying to give me a sign or something?”

He is, but clearly not the one Alex is reading.

“They’re aphrodisiacs,” he blurts out. “I was hoping that maybe one of these times, I’d get you in the right mood and then I could ask you out.”

Alex gapes at him. “…are you serious?”

His defenses suddenly up, Michael is ready to yank the terrible hot chocolate out of his hands. “What? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to…”

“Do you honestly think,” Alex cuts him off, “that I give a shit what temperature the milk in my coffee is? Michael, I do that because I know it’ll give me an extra few minutes with you, just like I know that by asking you to steep my tea for five minutes before the bag comes out, then I’ll get to talk to you. You didn’t have to douse me with oysters and chocolate and…were there chili peppers in the breakfast sandwich?”

“Yeah,” Michael admits, knowing that he’s definitely gone too far. “And asparagus in the scone.”

Alex gapes at him.

“Please go out with me,” Alex begs. “If only so you can stop trying to poison me with romance.”

Michael’s grin is a radiant thing, something that could light up the skies. “So it worked?”

“If it’ll make you stop, then yeah! Yeah, it worked.”

Michael does stop.

Alex’s orders go back to being his normal orders, Michael stops trying to infuse romance into them, because now he doesn’t need to.

He’s got a date with Alex, and now that they’re going to have dinner, they’re finally into familiar territory where Michael has plenty of tricks up his sleeve to woo and romance Alex, without powdered seafood, mushrooms, or asparagus. And lucky for Alex, Michael hasn’t had any complaints in this department.

He might not be good at wooing, but he’s excellent when it comes to actually being in a relationship.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML fic: Almost Perfect

(I have had this idea in my mind all day, and I think I won't be able to sleep until I wrote it.)

_______________________________________________________________________

A blond man in his mid twenties wearing a Gabriel brand black suit sat at his desk, he put his hand through his golden hair as he was looking through the recent sales reports of the Gabriel fashion line. He was relieved to see that the sales had once again surpassed expectation. His sharp green eyes look through the large document that also addressed expense reports. 

It was tough having clothes made in factories with humane working conditions and benefits for employees, the young Agreste had to argue for months with the board of directors to get approval. The old fat cats claimed it would bankrupt the company, that it would be an even worse hit to their finance since the arrest of Gabriel Agreste. But the son of the fashion mogul was not one to simply accept how things were, not after the last time he did that. The Gabriel brand was stronger then ever with the business genius and strong will of Adrien Agreste.

It was a rough couple of years at first, inheriting the company at 18, while still managing his college degree. But compared to fighting Hawkmoth, it was a cake walk.

He smirked contently at the document, the next board meeting will be very interesting. His mental congratulations were put on hold when he got a call from his secretary.

“Natasha? Yes. Excellent, send her in.” The businessman answered with a light yet firm voice.

He was meeting with the head of another fashion brand. One that had been growing in the last few years. Miraculous had hit Paris and most of Europe like a category five hurricane. Second only to the Gabriel line and very quickly closing the gap.

The office door opened to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman with eyes as blue as the sea and bluish black hair that looked finer then silk. She was dressed with a designer suit that was tailored to her made her look even more dazzling.

“Good Afternoon Mr. Agreste.” The woman spoke with a polite yet friendly greeting.

“Good afternoon Ms.Dupain-Cheng. Or is it Mrs. Dupain-Couffaine now.” The blond man returned her greeting with a joke, which was met with an eye roll.

“Dupain-Cheng is fine. Luka has yet to get back from his band tour. He says he will propose when he gets back. If he doesn't get booked on another tour. But you know how it goes.” The Fashion designer answered.

Luka Couffaine and his band, Kitty Section, have taken the world by storm. They hit their big break about three years ago where they signed the deal of a lifetime. Right now he had been touring for the last four mouths in the United States. Marinette had her own Fashion brand to manage and design for, so she couldn't go with him. Luka achieved his dream of being a rockstar with music that was all his own. Adrien couldn't help but be happy for the guitarist, He had everything he wanted.

“So should I be calling you Mr.Agreste-Tsurugi” 

Adrien snapped back to reality after hearing the comment.

“Very funny. I plan on proposing after she gets her gold medal in the olympics in six months.” The blond businessman answered.

Kagami Tsuragi was training for the Olympics. She basically ate, drank, and slept fencing for the last year. She stops by to see him once a month to have dinner and rest. Kagami’s skills in fencing had far exceeded anything Adrien deemed possible without super powers. He loved and respected how dedicated she was, though it does get lonely when she isn't visiting.

“If she gets her gold medal.” Marinette joked, knowing that it was pretty much guaranteed to the fencing prodigy.

“Well if she doesn't get her gold medal, I am gonna have to wait a while before I can propose, if ever.” Adrien answered as he rubbed his neck nervously.

“That is Kagami for you. I would expect nothing less.”

The two looked at each other and laughed.

“Its good seeing you again Marinette.” 

“It is good seeing you too Adrien.”

The two talked business for a good amount of time. The Gabriel and Miraculous brands were planing on a collab for next spring. If everything goes right they could rake in a very large sum of cash. Natasha had brought the two some coffee and tea cookies as they continued to talk.

After talking shop, they started reminiscing about the old days. 

“So do you still make awful puns kitty?” Marinette asked with a smirk that was very much reminiscent of his partner Ladybug. 

“I believe you mean Clawful Bugaboo.” He responded with a Cheshire grin that could be no other then chat noir.

They both laughed. They had both given up their miraculous after everything regarding Hawkmoth and Mayura was settled. Master Fu went to Tibet with Marianne and decided to try and restart the order of the guardians. The old turtle had said that if it doesn't go well he will be handing the title of guardian to her, which Marinette said she would accept should the circumstance rise.

“How is Fu by the way?” Adrien inquired. “Does he still need favors that only you can do?”

“Oh Kwami no. Please don't mention that!” Marinette said with her cheeks red from the light teasing.

“Its funny in hindsight. You got that mixed up with your letter. I spent three days in London looking for that.”  Adrien laughed.

“Laugh it up Agreste. I am not the only one who did embarrassing things. May I remind you about Reflekta? I am impressed you could even run in those heels.”

“What can I say, I am a model.” Adrien posed.

“Then there was that time you were scared of anyone driving over 10 miles an hour?” Marinette pointed out.

“And you needed help standing up. That one was not a good day for anyone.” Adrien answered.

“Being a superhero was never easy.” 

“It would have been easier if we knew each other’s identities...” Adrien let slip out.

Marinette looked at Adrien with a stern look.

“You know why we couldn't do that. Especially after we found out who Hawkmoth was.”

“Geez, sorry I even said anything. It wasn't anything against you or Fu. It was just a comment.”

Marinette eased herself.

“Sorry about that... the reveal wasn't exactly as  I thought it would be.” Marinette explained.

“I guess it was too early... or too late.” Adrien answered.

There was a moment of silence where they both looked away, which allowed the designer to notice the hamster tank in the corner.

“You got a hamster?!” Marinette exclaimed with child like glee. She got up and rushed over to the chubby brown rodent.

“Yea, with Kagami out, I needed someone to keep me company.” Adrien answered, thankful for the change in topic.

“Oh man. I am so envious. Luka is allergic to rodents. So getting a hamster has been a no go.” Marinette confessed.

“So Mr.Perfect does have a flaw. I will have to write that down.” Adrien joked.

“What did you name him?”

“Mr. Nibbles”

“Get out of my head. Thats what I would have named him!” Marinette answered as she pet the lovable fur ball. The hamster nuzzled her hand. “Aww, he likes me.”

“Kagami isn't thrilled about him, but she says as long as I take care of him, she doesn't mind.” Adrien explained.

“Well if you need anyone to petsit, let me know.” Marinette answered.

“I will be sure to let you know.” Adrien agreed.

Marinette pet the cute creature for another minute before letting him be.

“So I am guessing you are eager to go to Nino’s Bachelor party?” Marinette questioned with a knowing grin, changing the subject.

“I have a case of water bottles when Kim drinks to much.” Adrien assures. “And I assume you are looking forward to Alya’s Bachelorette party?”

“Considering that I planned it.” Marinette answered with a confident smile.

Marinette’s phone began vibrating.

“Oh shoot, Its 8 already? I need to hurry home. I have a video call with Luka in Half an hour.”

Marinette rushes back to her things and packs up.

“Don't rush too much. I think Luka would prefer his girlfriend late and alive.”

“Thank you Kitty for that lovely reminder.” She smiled with an eyeroll.

“Have a good night Marinette.” Adrien waved.

“You too.” She reciprocated the feeling before the door closed.

Adrien smile faded a bit. He wondered if Kagami would have energy for a phone call. He needed a reminder of how great his life is. How perfect it will be. 

“Well, almost perfect.” He spoke softly.

[collegecoward]

Hello! I'm one year away from finishing my undergrad degree except I'm starting to think I made a mistake with my major. When I think about having a career in it, I just feel dread. Is this normal? The other careers that sound more appealing to me right now are complete opposites of what my degree will be in. Should I just stick with it? Or should I follow what sounds interesting even if it means starting over?

Was My Major a Major Mistake?

Hey friend, deep breath! It’s gonna be okay. You’re about to graduate and make a big life change, and it’s totally normal to second-guess yourself. I can’t say for sure, but it sounds like your uncertainty might be causing your dread, rather than the other way around.

Either way, this is a totally valid and relatable question, and you deserve a thorough answer. Let’s go step-by-step.

1. Reset.

Consider why you want to go into these other fields and why you don’t want to go into your major field. What attracted you to your major in the first place? What do you really know about the field you’re pursuing, or the ones that seem so attractive?

2. Rethink.

What do you mean when you say “a career in it”? What career in your field? A major is only a subject area; there are so many ways to engage with that subject area as a career. Go to an academic or career advisor or another on-campus support service and ask them to help you figure out your career options. For now, Google “careers you can have with a _______ degree” and see what stands out to you. Look for professionals in these fields. Read their biographical information on company websites. Email them and ask them if they can talk to you in the next two weeks or so.

Answers to similar questions:

Does your choice of major matters as much as people make it seem?

I changed my mind about my BA and about law school. What now?

3. Restart?

If you have the time and money, you could start over and get a bachelor’s in a new field, potentially making it easier to find a job in said field when you graduate. When I’m applying for jobs, I sometimes feel frustrated by my lack of social science education, and I have to make sure that I really emphasize my other experiences on my resume.

Alternatively, if you have time in your schedule, you could take classes in the fields you’re currently interested in. You can apply to internships that are in different fields and see if you really like it.

4. Return?

You may also consider graduate/professional school as an option. You may look at certificate programs at your local community colleges to help you enter into a new field. Education doesn’t have to stop with a bachelor’s degree. In many fields, a master’s is the prerequisite to certain careers, and you don’t need a bachelor’s in the same field.

5. Receive.

Whichever option you choose, make sure you graduate. Get that bachelor’s degree. Personally, I decided not to change my major and start over. There are days when I regret my decision, and other days when I’m so glad I didn’t start over because I want to graduate and move on ASAP.

No matter what you decide to do, you will find a path.

Take some time to think and work through this! Summer is just around the corner, and internship applications are open.

If you want to give me specifics, you can email collegecoward@gmail.com.

[bowenandjohnson]

The Aftermath

Basically, Colin & Farrah own my heart. 

Short one-shot set after the season 1 finale of Youth & Consequences. Spoilers beware! Read under the cut!

If you had asked Farrah Cutney what she thought she’d be doing on her Winter Break off from Central Rochester this year, she once would have probably said something along the lines of either going skiing in Aspen with Hurley, Jayne, and Plain Jane, or attending the Winter Ball tonight with Will. Former Farrah wouldn’t believe that Current Farrah was willingly sitting across from Stacey Moorehead on her bedroom floor setting up a game of bridge.

Stacey Moorehead was the former best friend for a reason, but now she was one of the only people Farrah could talk to, without fear of a glare or a sneer aimed her way. The fact of the matter was, of course, that Stacey and Farrah were now both former somethings: Stacey was the former BFF, and Farrah was now the former It Girl of CRHS, currently fallen from grace.

She had expected backlash from revealing she was the anonymous blogger called “The Crotch” in September--at least one part of the blog. Colin and Dipankar were the other two parts of it, but they hadn’t come forward. Of course, she had been the one to fall on her own sword for Tripp, and for Colin. She didn’t give a shit about Dipankar, but at least, he hadn’t tried to take back control of the Crotch after she came forward to claim the title. Neither had Colin. The Crotch was effectively vanquished, at least for this year.

Her parents had been called into Principal Cowher’s office. Superintendent Moorehead sat on one couch with Colin’s mother, while Farrah had to sit sandwiched between her mom and dad on the sofa facing them. She had to pretend that she was intently listening, but to be honest, she was hyper focused on the fact that her father was growing increasingly tense beside her. 

They wanted to expel her, at least at the first meeting, but Moorehead’s tune had changed by a week later. Farrah figured her dad had a private conversation with the superintendent. Her mom was just disappointed. Farrah’s wreaking digital havoc on the school had taken everything out of her again, and she had to restart anew for the second time since the separation. No one wanted to be associated with a cyberbully’s mother.

Principal Cowher’s voice still rang in her head. “Well, considering the circumstances of your home life into account, Farrah, we are not going to press charges. We have talked this over with both your parents, and members of the community. We, however, still require a formal letter of apology for me, the school district, and Tripp, considering your actions got him into a car accident. We are also going to give you in-school suspension for three weeks, and mandatory community service and counseling for the time being.”

All Farrah could do in that moment was nod woodenly. She couldn’t fight the principal. Not now that she thought that Farrah had ridiculed her and her dead husband all over cyberspace.

The following Monday, Farrah arrived at 9 AM, after classes had started. Her spot was no longer reserved, and Hurley’s black car took up new residence where hers used to. She was forced to park in the last row, furthest from the school. Gabe met her at the doors, and led her into a room off of the administrative offices, colored a bland white, furnished with rows of desks. Principal Cowher was standing there, waiting for her. She was going to help tutor her, until they could find a good enough tutor to step in. Cowher had said something around the lines of “putting her Master’s degree to good use.”

Those late starts were almost like a reprieve from having to face everything and everyone she had hurt, but after the bell rang at 3 PM, she was forced to leave when everyone else did. The first day, she merely tried to blend in, sunglasses perched on her nose, but Grace Ho was right behind her. Hissing loudly so everyone could hear, she said, “Wow, Farrah. It’s so good to see you back. I’ll make sure to tell Will you say hey.” Plain Jane laughed in her ear. Stacey remained silent for a moment, before saying, “Grace. Enough.”

“Why not? She thought she could play around with everyone else. You’re lucky, Farrah. If you were a man, you’d be dead right now.” Ilo appeared in front of her suddenly, blocking the way. Farrah was forced to stop in her tracks.

“Kill me now, Ilo. Being sexist, really? I could take you.” Her retort was still biting, but it didn’t seem to phase anyone that much anymore. Everyone was closing in around her, looking like she used to, as predators circling their prey.

“Ilo. She’s not worth it. She’s just a glorified puppet master with no more strings to pull. Just walk away, please.” She hadn’t expected to hear his voice. Especially directed at Ilo in such a manner. Farrah turned, searching the crowd for one Colin Cowher. Their eyes locked for a moment that felt like a century, and then he finally looked away, clearing his throat. “My mom is going to have a field day with this, and I’m pretty sure Mountain View wouldn’t want to take you on for a second offense.” His voice was clear, even. Not at all quavery like the voice of her Colin.

“Just watch your back, Cutney. We’re all watching you now.” Ilo’s voice was angry and barely controlled. Brandon Swain, Hurley and Jayne appeared at his side. Hurley whispered to him gently, and Brandon tugged at his arm. They turned, not even tossing her a second glance. The rest of the student body was shock-still. He wasn’t lying. Every set of eyes was on her as she quickly made her way down to the hall, and into the safety of her car before starting to cry. The new Farrah Cutney cried a lot in that first week after the aftermath of Homecoming.

But she didn’t regret her decision. It was the right one, even if she missed her friends, Will, and Colin. Everyone else would move on eventually. So Farrah Cutney learned to square her shoulders, avert her eyes, and say nothing unless it was absolutely required to fight back.

Farrah passed Stacey a few more cards, but Stacey seemed more focused on trying to decipher her mood than play bridge. “So, are you finally ready to come clean? I know there’s more to the story, Farrah.”

She sighed. They had been over this multiple times since that night. “No. Stacey, I told you. I was the Crotch, and it was only me running the show.”

“Officially. I know Cowher was in on it too, unofficially.”

“Why are you still so focused on this, Stacey? So you can somehow create another scandal, and run off to tell your new BFF’s, the Gracies?” Her voice turned cruel, sharp as a knife. Stop, Stacey, just stop. Shut up now.

But this time, Stacey forged on. “So it is true. Why are you still keeping up your story, Farrah? It’s been three months of hell for you, and the whole thing almost got you kicked out of school. Why would you sacrifice so much for the principal’s son?”

Farrah paused to take a deep breath, staring down at her lap. Her voice slipped into a practiced tone of indifference. “Colin was nothing but a pawn, someone I could control. I was just pulling the strings of a puppet.” 

“You looked down at your lap before you said that. That’s your tell, Farrah. You’ve gotten sloppy without Hurley and Jayne to keep you on your toes. You care about him, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that. I had Will, Stace. You know, former star of the football team. Tall, sexy as all hell?”

“I never said you had feelings for him, Far. But I think you just admitted that you do.” Stacey’s face brightened, her mouth widening into a smile.

“Don’t laugh at me, Moorehead.” Farrah looked down at her lap, and then at the forgotten playing cards between them on the plush carpet. She felt her face heating up. The former Farrah Cutney didn’t blush. She didn’t get embarrassed. But everything had changed.

“I’m not. I’m happy for you, actually. Colin’s sweet.”

“Except now he hates my guts. And there’s nothing I can do about it.” Farrah leaned against the end of her bed and sighed deeply. “With Will, it was just easier, you know?”

Stacey merely nodded. “He was the ideal, the fantasy guy everyone wanted. Meanwhile, Cowher is smart, sweet, funny... and has major anxiety issues. And what did I do? I went and screwed myself over because I had to protect him. I had to make him hate me, so I used his anxiety and his feelings for me against him. Told him it was all a ploy.”

“Why don’t you just be honest with him then? Tell him how you really feel. I don’t think he exactly hates you. The boy still stares at you like you hung the moon.”

“Really?” Farrah’s eyes snapped wide open. “I have to talk to him.” She stood, almost drunkenly in her haste to find her boots, rushing down the stairs. Stacey followed close behind. 

“I’ll give you a ride. I have to get ready for the dance anyway. Jane and Grace are getting ready at my house.” 

“And you risked coming over here in the first place? Stacey, that’s social suicide.” Farrah turned to look at her.

“I thought you might need a friend.” 

Farrah merely nodded, and gave her hand a squeeze, quick. “Mom! Stacey’s dropping me off at my friend’s house!”

“Which friend? God knows you don’t have many of those anymore.” Kate Cutney’s voice was tinged with bitterness as she sat at the kitchen table. Farrah knew she deserved it. She just screwed over everyone, didn’t she?

She paused before saying, “I need to make some amends with my friend, Colin. I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

“Back by 10. I love you too.” Kate’s voice softened a bit, and Stacey merely gave a wave, as they headed out the door.

By the time they reached the Cowher house, Farrah’s heart was racing. The trailer was lit up, meaning he was home. Stacey wished her luck as she dropped her at the end of the driveway, and the car eased down the street. She was alone now, but somehow more alive than she had been for the past three months. She felt happier, giddy even. Most of all, she was ready to be honest with him.

She knew what she wanted to say to him, so Farrah didn’t have to think too hard. She hoped he was alone, Principal Cowher would probably be at the school already for the dance. One apology at a time, she thought. She stayed silent as she approached the trailer door, rapping on it in time with her uneven heart. And she heard it, “Come in, Mom!” Thank God. He hadn’t heard Stacey’s car.

Farrah reached for a screwdriver that was no longer there. With disbelief, she realized Colin had finally gotten the door fixed. A pang of nostalgia hit her as she eased open the door.

“Colin?” Her voice was raspy as she stepped uneasily into the trailer. “It’s me. Farrah.”

His head whipped up. “Why are you here?” He had that stupid, lovely guitar in his hands again.

She opened her mouth, and the words flew. “I wanted to tell you the truth, which I don’t think I’ve been telling lately. I’ve just been going through the motions, and the truth is that I hate it. I was talking to Stacey, and she helped me realize that I need my friends. I need you, Colin. You are the best person I know. I shouldn't have hurt you, even though you were so wrong about me. I did handpick you. I’m not lying about that, I’m not, and I hope you can forgive me. But the truth is that you are sweet, and caring, and funny, and really good at singing and playing the guitar. The truth is that I fucked up, and I like you. Like like-like you, and I understand if you hate me, and I don’t deserve anything from you after what I said. I will turn around and never talk to you again, if that’s what you want, Colin Cowher. But I just needed you to know that. That you are the best person I know.” Farrah stopped rambling then, and gauged his reaction. 

Colin’s eyes were wide as saucers, but he recovered fairly quickly, clearing his throat. “I thought you were never going to come back.” The words hit her like a brick wall.

“I thought you didn’t want me here.” She walked closer then, motioning a hand to sit on the couch.

He nods, and scooted over, making room for her. “I didn’t want you here at first. I hated you for a while. But then I realized what you did.”

“What I did?” Farrah glanced up at him, scanning his face.

“You’re talking to the king of defense mechanisms, remember? You thought you needed to push me away, to push everyone away, to really sell the whole Crotch thing. To make everyone hate you.”

“Well, you’re right. I just wanted to protect you.”

“By hurting me.” He said the words flatly, dragging them out.

“And I know that was wrong, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know.” He put down the guitar, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She can smell him, the faint tones of laundry soap and deodorant wafting off his shirt. She once teased him by telling he smelled. She was lying.

“How are you so sure? I wouldn’t trust an ice queen like me ever again.”

“You fell on your sword for me. The average person wouldn’t do that. You, Farrah Cutney, aren’t an ice queen. You are the white knight rushing into battle for anyone and everyone, even though you are scared shitless by anyone seeing you as kind or empathetic. You like being seen as someone to be feared, the queen bee. But that is not who you are. At least not to me.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She embraced him, breathing in. This trailer is where she felt the most at home.

 “Farrah?”

“Yeah?” Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

“I like-like you too. I always have.” He kissed her softly on the top of her head.

[noonecaresdobetter]

Watching killing eve is making my paranoia way worse. 

I also keep questioning myself - am I a sociopath? I don’t think I am, or the online quizzes say I’m not. 

Sam said “ the truth of your future will reveal itself if you put others before yourself.” which seems like some weird omen that started to give me a panic attack so I blocked him.

I was supposed to get a covid test today but all the slots are booked. I just want to jack off but I can hear one of my housemates making annoying noises outside of my door. So I started playing rap music again. I don’t like listening to rap music but the bass in it drowns out other noises better and it feels like armor against the people outside of my door.

I really do mean the things I “say” to them when I am inside of my room, the threats, the aggressions, the fuck yous. If I could I would stab him. If there were no consequences. It would feel really nice, it would be kind of like a mercy killing. What an unfortunate person, so ugly, so annoying, so cloying. Nothing that he says makes any sense and his voice feels like a cheesegrater on my eardrums. I hate him. 

The paranoia, knowing they know everything about me. I have nothing to hide. Everything is completely on display, all of the bad, there is no good. Every dirty secret, every nude, every conversation, every psychological anxiety google. Someone knows,, its so weird to suddenly be aware of this. I guess I knew this before but when I was younger I didnt think it mattered since I was gonna be an artist. And now I want to do policy? now it matters. maybe i shouldnt do policy since I dont want to be blackmailed, since there are just plethoras of things to blackmail me about. I am not an upstanding member of society, im gross and creepy, mentally emotionally unstable. i should not be in charge of anyone or anything, important or not. but there are men way worse than me in charge of a lot of people and things. so? idk. 

I don’t know what i need right now, but i feel like a failure. that presentation, my classes, nothing is under control. my life is out of control. i only had 1 job and i fucked it up. im not even suicidal rn. i just wanna restart. but if i restart, will i still run into these same problems? are the problems just personal and i can move past them? or am i in the wrong major? Should i pick a different career? is it too late to go back to undergrad. mom said a masters is worth more than a second undergrad, but this masters is giving me nothing. i think i have gotten overall worse doing this than if i had gotten a second degree in something else. or i could have just done my env science masters + law degree straight out of undergrad and maybe would be better off. or like, if i had just said fu mom and done a straight up art degree i would be doing art. but no, my art skills are all gone now. art skills are only good when practiced, and are only practiced under supervision. there is no supervision out here, all i do is scroll my phone and go to the grocery store and i dont do anything else. if anyone has any actual hobbies these days then i think thats the non-normal. who has time for actual hobbies when we have instagram. I just want to hide. I get in my own way, i ruin everything. it’s not me that’s ruined, but i ruin everything around me. i just wish i could stop talking, like the person i always work next to on the weekends. she never responds, i know nothing about her. but i always say way too much about myself, the verbal diahrea. i have to speak the good me into existence, but how do i do that when everything that comes out of me is just wrong.

[curtiskyle]

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[autel-luna]

17 & 33 💕

17: Talk about someone you want to be friends with. 

There’s no one specific really... but I do want to make more friends. Ever since I moved from France to Cyprus, making friends has been quite difficult for me. I feel lucky on one hand because I got to restart my life here, without all the baggage and hate that I used to get from back home, but I also have a hard time talking to new people. Then there’s the problem that most people I know are people I know from my boyfriend, and they’re all about partying all the time, constantly getting high or they’re just kind of asleep about life, or they think its funny to waste their time, and then the spiritual people I’ve met either stick to their friend groups or just don’t get me and so its like while its hard for me to make friends, I am so picky about who I want to hang out with. I only really have  my boyfriend and my best friend who I really enjoy time with, and trust. Unfortunately my best friend lives in the UK at this moment.

I am in the process of accepting I really don’t fit into most boxes, and I just want friend who are like that too. One second we’re balls deep into the theories of life, then we’re making sex jokes, then we’re dancing our asses off, then we’re hustling making our dreams come true and then we’re discussing the latest spreads in Vogue. Y’know, I am all of those things. I am passionate, and yet love fashion but extremely spiritual, yet crack the weirdest jokes, and I just want people who are MY people and are interested in living in higher mind but also being weird with me.

Sorry for the rant... I am sort of I guess letting out how I also feel about all of this.

33: Talk about what you do when you are sad.

Well, this can totally depend. Sometimes, self-care when I’m sad is really loving, other times, it really does not go well. If you haven’t met the glorious spiritual master “Matt Khan” (he’s the bomb btw,) he sort of explores the theory that, whatever arises in us, love that. So we dont ever have to like how we feel, but we have to love it and have to allow it to have its place so that it knows that it is an acceptable part of us, and then we can integrate it back into wholeness.

A lot of what happens when I begin to feel sad, starts with actually just dropping into my heart and breathing with it. I talk to my heart, the way I would talk to a child, it is like a total separate entity. I let it know that it is alright for it to feel the way it does, in which it usually reveals why it feels so threatened or what it is mourning, and I too tell it that, it’s allowed, it’s okay. The way it feels is 100% valid. Then I proceed to either whisper, or even say out loud if I have the opportunity that I love it. Yes I out right go “I love you,” over and over, for a good 2 minutes or even more. This is actually not to calm myself down. I don’t advise to sabotage your heart into feeling better so that it is more convenient for you. The same way you wouldnt or shouldnt manipulate a little child who is experience a really overwhelming pain in that time.

Sometimes that helps, and sometimes like I said things dont go down well. If my sadness is a frustrated type, it usually escalates to the degree where it almost cant be contained in my body. I need to scream, I clench my hands and teeth, I hit walls, I stomp.. I literally look like a child having a tantrum. Most of the time, I either need to ride it out, cry it out, or sometimes my boyfriend can understand that I am in real agony inside, and he just sorta hugs me until I end up crying it all out. In that moment a lot of self-blaming goes on, because it is a trained pattern of mine. The steps for me here is how quickly can I move back into union with my heart, and love it instead of shame it. Usually it results back to going to my I love yous.

There’s a lot of meditation that happens during this time. Just kind of checking in, and doing inner shadow work, so I can heal and release what needs to be. Sometimes I go cry at my altar, to my matron. I let her know my fears, I literally just cry there, and I know she’s there listening, holding me. Loving me. Diana, is not always so warm, because of the ferocity that she is, but in those moments she holds me in the way I need to be held. She is like a mother to me in those moments. 

There’s a lot of other simple self-care items, like going for a warm shower. Sometimes its binge watching TV with some chocolate. Other times, its making some art, or going to swim in the ocean is a HUUUUGE one for me.

A friend of mine, in a session, she does for ancestor connection, told me, my traveler spirit, infuses my world like ripples do. I am literally an ocean, moving changing like water, so I go back to the ocean to “remember my ripples.” I let it cleanse me. 

Sometimes its a nap. Sometimes its venting to a friend. Really, my body calls for so many different things depending on what is happening, but there is always an honoring of my heart of hearts. Reminding myself, everything I feel I am meant to feel. It is valid, seen and so so loved.

I am so so so so sorry for the long ass answers, but I just yep, had to say all of that apparently.

Endless love to you gorgeous chicka! xxx

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 26

<- Previous Chapter

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, I know you both just returned." Obi wan said as Anakin and Ahsoka came in the room behind him. He was busy trying to move furniture around the newly remodeled council room.

"Is everything alright?" Anakin asked concerned.

Obi wan finished moving the last chair into place and turned to look at them. "Yes and no." He said at last, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"How can we help?" Ahsoka asked.

Obi wan slumped down into a chair and gestured for them to sit too. "I've been giving some thought to this whole grandmaster of the new Jedi order thing, and I'm not sure I'm up to it after all."

"How can you say that, master? You're the most qualified person out there." Anakin said quickly. Obi wan half smiled but then stroked his beard in deep thought.

"Well, not exactly. But the reason I called you here is because I need a favor."

"Of course," Ahsoka said without hesitation.

"I will continue my role as grandmaster on one condition..." Obi wan said slowly. Enjoying their anxiety more than he should. "That the two of you agree to sit on the council."

"What?" Anakin exclaimed standing up.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Master Kenobi." Ahsoka said.

"Calm down, Anakin, hear me out." Anakin grumbled something under his breath and sat back down. "Look, I know that given all we've each been through, none of us is truly qualified to restart the order as it once was. Both of you have pointed out its many failings on more than one occasion. And even though I used to believe strongly in the old code, I see now that it was outdated and did not truly serve the best interest of both its members and the people of the galaxy. So even though you two have both severed ties with it, I feel as though I cannot truly serve others without your perspectives and ideas."

Obi wan went silent for a few moments so that Anakin and Ahsoka could mull over what he was saying.

"Anakin, you taught me time and time again, that though I tried to help people, I never really saw them. Or understood them. Your perspective on delicate situations, I regret to say, I never fully appreciated before. I spent entirely too much time believing I knew better and you just didn't get it. But I see now that I was the one that didn't get it. You showed me faces and individuals when I only saw numbers. Ahsoka, you taught me that wisdom comes at all ages and in many forms. You showed me that the path ahead is not black and white, but that with confidence, fearlessness and love, even impossible tasks become possible. You've shown me resilience and maturity that not even the old masters possessed at such degree. Your thoughtfulness and insights would be invaluable in creating an environment that would truly serve the people of this world and all the others."

Obi wan watched as they glanced at each other, hoping that he had convinced them.

"I know you both have doubts about rejoining the Jedi order. I know that you feel as though you are unworthy to hold that position again. I understand, but I need you here. I can't do this without you."

"Will you actually listen to us this time?" Anakin asked finally.

"Yes." Obi wan replied.

"Then we'd be honored to be a part of it again." Ahsoka said, reaching for Anakin's hand. He still looked a little uncertain but he nodded in agreement.

"Thank you." Obi wan said with a sigh of relief.

–-

*New Jedi Order Open House, 19 years after the great Jedi Purge*

"Uncle Owen! Aunt Beru! I'm so glad you came!" Luke exclaimed happily, greeting his aunt and uncle with kisses on their cheeks as they walked nervously into the foyer of the restored Jedi temple. They looked around timidly. Anakin smiled to himself as he watched them take in the contrasting world of force users and the big city to what they were used to on Tatooine. It had taken a lot of convincing to get them to come, but ultimately they'd agreed. Anakin was pleased. It was important to Luke that they be a part of such a momentous occasion, even though they'd always been against him being a Jedi. "This is my twin sister, Leia!" Luke introduced her to the Lars'. She greeted them politely. They looked a little overwhelmed.

Anakin stepped forward at last, "Hello brother, glad you could make it." He extended a mechanical hand to his half brother, Owen who looked up at him in surprise. Owen shook it hesitantly, as Anakin pulled him apart from the group for a moment. "It means a lot to Luke, that you're here." He spoke low so they wouldn't be overheard.

"I didn't want to come," Owen admitted. "But I realized that even though I don't agree with his choice to follow in your footsteps, we did raise him and we do love him."

Anakin nodded thoughtfully brushing off his pointed remark. "I know you do. And I'm eternally grateful for all that you've done. You did what I could not. And I want you to know, that it's because you loved him and raised him well, that he will not become like I had. He will be a Jedi. And he will not fall like I did."

Owen seemed satisfied with Anakin's response. "I thought Jedi were secretive, what's this all about?"

Anakin smiled, "we used to be, but we've learned a few things over the years. We used to think it was better to isolate ourselves from the rest of the world, believing that distance would enable us to do what we must to save as many as possible. Now we've come to understand that relationships with the outside world, contact and support from our families and friends, is immeasurably important. Luke and Leia are the best examples of that. Because they both were given a chance to be raised in loving environments with great support systems, there is a far smaller chance for them to be tempted by power or anything else the dark side could offer." Anakin could tell that his brother didn't fully grasp what he was saying, but seemed to be pleased to hear the more progressive views of the Jedi. And it occurred to him that he would likely encounter that reaction a lot throughout the day. Between the holonet news and the rumor train, views on the Jedi were as varied and mysterious as Coruscant itself. He hoped to change that.

"Uncle Owen! Look at this," Luke called, and Anakin let him rejoin the rest of the group as Luke pointed out places and things as they moved the tour throughout the temple.  

---

On the second level, they met up with Bail, Breha and Ahsoka. As introductions were made all around, it was Leia's turn to lead the tour and they all continued along as a big group while Anakin and Ahsoka followed a few steps behind.

"How do you think it's going?" She asked him, slipping an arm around his waist.

"I'm feeling a lot of positive energy." He replied resting his arm around her shoulders. "People seem excited about the changes and getting to be a part of it."

"Indeed," Ahsoka responded. "It's different, but it feels good. Like we're finally doing something right, you know?"

"Yeah, I do." He said squeezing her closer.

"How do you feel about Leia's choice to join the government leadership academy rather than finish her Jedi training?" She asked him.

"I think it's the right choice for her. I admit I would have loved to see her as a Jedi knight, just like Luke, but her strategy and leadership skills far surpass my own. I think she'll make a brilliant general."

"Me too," Ahsoka replied. "And of course, she'll still have some classes here, so it's not like we won't ever see her."

"True." Anakin replied.

"Hello there," Callista said as her and her husband Geith came through a door on their right.

"Callista! It's so good to see you!" Ahsoka said excitedly and embraced her.

"It's been too long," her friend said. "You remember Geith?"

"Of course, how are you both?" Ahsoka asked, shaking his hand.

"We're doing well," Geith replied in a deep voice. "Have you met our daughter, Karmen yet?" He asked indicating a tall thin, red headed girl behind them.

"I have not. How do you do?" Ahsoka asked.

"It's nice to meet you." Karmen curtsied.

"Karmen is a Jedi marriage counselor and officiator now." Callista said proudly. "Which I know was something you weren't very comfortable with a long long time ago." She giggled.

"Ah yes... well time certainly changes things," Ahsoka said squeezing Anakin's hand. He smiled back at her. "Is master Altis and the others still alive?"

"I'm afraid not," Geith said sadly. "We're all that's left of the Altisian Jedi."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. But I'm hoping that all those that were lost will find a home here forevermore." Ahsoka replied. "Both in flesh and spirit."

"I'm certain Master Altis would be pleased to see the Jedi order now. I know you weren't so open minded when you were just a padawan, though I can't say I blame you. It's hard to break tradition." Callista commented.

"Ain't that the truth?" Ahsoka replied. "I guess it took life forcing us to change perspectives to figure out what was wrong with our traditions."

Callista smiled. "Well, we should get going, Karmen wants to see the gardens."

"Of course," Anakin nodded to them. "See you around!"

Anakin and Ahsoka caught up with the rest of their group.

Last Chapter ->

[leonorakidd93]

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[mischiefmanagedbybooks]

I’M BACK! Hello everyone! After 3 years, I have decided to restart this blog! Welcome to the new site. I hope you like the logo, cookies and refreshments are in the next room.

So…here is an update of what has been happening in my life so far:

I graduated with my Bachelor’s degree 2 years ago, and I am about to start my 3rd year teaching! I have taught kindergarten and second grade, and will moving to third grade next year. I am also getting my master’s degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. Next year will be my last year, woohoo!

Now enough of the babbling….let’s get into the awesome (and not so awesome) books I’ve read so far in the year 2020.

1. Sadie by Courtney Summers

4 out of 5 stars

This was a very interesting read. Definitely would recommend if you like mysteries!

              2. Broken Things by Lauren Oliver

5 out of 5 stars

3. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

5 out of 5 stars

Of course, after seeing the movie I just had to read the book. Definitely lived up to my expectations!

              4. Take Control of Your Life by Mel Robbins

5 out of 5 stars

  This is an audiobook on Audible. This is such a great listen if you are overwhelmed by stress.

        5. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling

5 out of 5 stars

  It’s funny that the last book I was reading when I stopped blogging was Harry Potter. I have been reading the illustrated editions of these babies and I absolutely love them!

              6. The Lost by Natasha Preston

3 out of 5 stars

  I usually love Natasha Preston’s books, but I was extremely disappointed by this one. The ending was frustrating and completely unrealistic.

            7. The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

4 out of 5 stars

  This book has been so hyped around the book community. In my opinion, it didn’t live up to the hype.

          8. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

3 out of 5 stars

  I really wanted to like this book because I love the plot so much. However, it was extremely boring.

              9. My Lady Jane by Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, and Jodi Meadows

5 out of 5 stars

  This books is so funny and cute. It takes a historical figure with a tragic ending and turns it into a triumphant story filled with romance. Not to mention it has a touch of fantasy.

        10. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling

5 out of 5 stars

  Do I even need to explain myself?

             11. Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia

5 out of 5 stars

  This book is one of the main reasons why I started blogging again. If you have ever been part of a fandom, read this book now!!

                AND THATS IT! Not a bad list if I do say so myself. What have you been reading in 2020? Let me know! Don’t forget to follow! 🙂

Books I’ve Read So Far in 2020 + Update! I'M BACK! Hello everyone! After 3 years, I have decided to restart this blog! Welcome to the new site.

[recentanimenews]

In Defense Of Ash Ketchum: Anime's Worst Protagonist

  Protagonists in long-running adventure anime series are expected to follow a certain pattern of growth. It's usually one of the reasons that we keep watching. Don't get me wrong, when Goku was only about as tall as Bulma's kneecaps and his main battle technique was poking his enemies in the eyes, Three Stooges style, he was still fun. But a major draw of Dragon Ball is seeing him train his way to becoming a six-foot slab of tricep muscle that could blow up a planet by sneezing near it. There's something energizing and relatable about watching someone constantly strive to improve themselves, even if they're improving themselves to eventually tear apart space demons with their bare hands, and you're improving your skills so that one day you'll be able to make dinner without committing second degree arson in your kitchen.  

    That said, there are a few protagonists that just seem to spin their wheels no matter how hard they push themselves. They've spent a thousand episodes wanting to be the very best, like no one ever was, and often, it feels like they're even less close to that goal than when they started out. Of course, thanks to that clumsy reference I just made and the title of this piece, you know I'm talking about Ash Ketchum, the star of the Pokémon anime. 

I don't need to explain what Pokémon is, because, at this point, if you don't know, you've made a concentrated effort NOT to know. Or you're my Dad. Either one. But I will give you a brief refersher course on Ash Ketchum: He's a perennial kid from Pallet Town that goes from region to region collecting Pokémon and beating gym leaders in order to eventually become a Pokémon master. This journey has been going on since the late nineties, so logically, Ash should be sweeping through these towns and forests like the hand of a merciless god, driving enemies and fellow trainers into the ground and moving on to conquer whatever else is left. 

  At this point, Ash should be kind of like how you find Red in the end of Pokémon Gold/Silver/Crystal: Sitting atop a mountain, bored and waiting for his next challenger, or just waiting to die, whichever comes first. But he's not. Instead, Ash remains a clumsy, forgetful child, often needing reminders on the basic rules of the Pokémon universe. Whether it's type differences or battle strategies, they've all leaked from Ash's skull by the time he enters his next region. If you talk to anyone about the Pokémon anime, it's probably their first and primary complaint. Why hasn't Ash grown up? Heck, more importantly, why hasn't he improved at all? 

  There are many obvious reasons as to why Ash hasn't grown into a jaded Pokémon warlord. First of all, the Pokémon anime is predominately for children, and while I won't make the dumb argument that children only want to see main characters that are other children, having Ash Ketchum be an all-powerful Pokémon genius that strolls through Kanto like Dr. Manhattan in Watchmen is kind of unappealing. Also, Ash Ketchum would look weird with facial hair. I'm just gonna come out and say that. I don't want to see Ash Ketchum with a goatee and neither do the youth of the world.

  Secondly, this show's been going on for twenty years, and it's fairly fond of adding and subtracting new main cast members and lightly rebooting itself from time to time. Pokémon is never going to be One Piece or Naruto, where rather than making it super easy for newcomers, it just lays down nearly one-hundred volumes of manga at your feet and says "Study up, nerd." Pokémon is desperate to remain fresh, and it does so by hitting the New Game button every few years. 

  But the reason that many don't think about when they're griping about Ash and his lack of progress is that, unlike Dragon Ball or One Piece or Naruto, Pokémon has actually allowed you into its universe as a main character. All of the aforementioned franchises that I listed have video game spinoffs, but Pokémon is the only one that's based entirely on a video game. The source material for the Pokémon anime is the Pokémon game series, a game series that you star in as the person that will become the ultimate Pokémon champion. And because of this, Ash Ketchum is an adaptation of you. 

  I know. It's very dramatic.

    When I get frustrated with Ash Ketchum because he doesn't remember what a Rock type is weak against, or he forgets all of Charizard's best attacks, I'm getting frustrated because he's getting ME wrong. I played through the games! I fought the same gym leaders and explored the same areas that Ash did! And I did okay at it! I beat the Elite 4! I completed the Pokedex! And to see Ash constantly struggle is a personal version of when you go see a movie and it's totally changed a major portion of the book that it's based on. "But no! This isn't how it's supposed to go!"

  Combine this with Pokémon's penchant for restarting itself with every region in order to appeal to the next generation of fans and it becomes clear that you were never meant to grow up with Ash like you were with Luffy and Goku and the rest. Instead, Ash is there to mirror you at a very specific time of your life, when you've just popped in your first Pokémon game and don't know what's going on. 

  And for that purpose, Ash Ketchum is a GREAT protagonist. He's excited, fairly intelligent, good to his friends and his magic pets, and always willing to go outside of his comfort zone. He's everything that you should be when you're playing your game. And then, by the time the next game comes out and you're already a Pokémon master, you have to say goodbye to him, at least as an aspirational figure. Because you're already the very best, like no one ever was. And the next generation of Pokémon fans needs Ash Ketchum more than you do. 

    Are you a Pokémon fan? Do you like the anime? Comment below and let us know your thoughts!

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Daniel Dockery is a writer/editor for Crunchyroll. Be his Poke Pal on Twitter. 

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!  

    By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[lose-my-spirit-blog]

Now, the second post. I feel already tired from writing the previous one. But this is the real issue that brought me to the ground. I’m writing this thinking of you, grandma. I already have tears streaming down my face. Let me pop a marshmallow into my body first. Better marshmallows than pills.

I miss you. It doesn’t make sense? It doesn't. Because you are still alive. I can look into your eyes and see you looking back. But you are not the same. You are ill. That illness took you away from us. You still remember us. And you only forgot about us a few times. But even during those times, you only forgot about how I look, you didn't forget about my existence. And I am grateful for that. But the first time you looked at me and asked me where I was, when I was right there in front of you... you asked me for myself... That hurt. It physically hurt. Seeing your mental health and physical health decrease in just a few weeks really messed me up. It’s already been a year. I haven’t slept decently for a year. I graduated from college in such circumstances. But now, during the first year of my master degree, I feel unable to write my essays. I just can’t focus. I start reading and I forget about what I just read. I have to restart reading the same page over and over. This post is all over the place. I thought I was dealing well with the situation, but as it turns out, I’m not. Now that things are kinda stable, my body and my mind are giving up on me. Traitors. While I went through taking care of my grandmother, my grandfather depression, my father depression, my dog’s illness and operation, I was functioning. Now, I just can’t. 

I cry. I cry every day, multiple times a day. I feel guilty for feeling like this. I feel like I am not strong enough. But surprisingly, I don’t feel bad for not being able to turn in my essays for this semester. Actually, I don’t care. I realized this a few days ago, and I got scared. I don’t care? Me? I always cared too much about college. What is wrong with me? I reached out for help to my friends. And I felt support. Then I told my mom how I was feeling during these past months. And I felt support. Now I have to tell my father... and I am afraid... I don’t want to upset him, I don’t want him to worry. He has enough worries. But I have to tell him because he keeps asking how are my essays going. And I also have to explain the situation to my teachers... I don’t want them to think I just didn’t make any effort to complete the essays. I will tell them how I’m feeling, and hope they understand. But it is hard for me to imagine they would understand because I can’t understand why I am like this. I am not strong enough. Not strong enough. 

Yes, last year was hard. The worst year in my life, that I remember. I didn’t have time to get up because it all happened without a break. And now here I am. Living alone in the house where I lived with my grandparents and my father. Here I am maintaining my grandparent's house and garden. Or at least trying to maintain. I lost 5 kg in two months and my hair is falling. Apparently, stress. I feel weak and tired all day. I have a headache all day. I dream about my grandmother every night. Sometimes during the day, I hear her calling for me. I’ve always been close to both my grandmothers. So it hurts to feel like I’m losing her from day to day. My father says I have to find something to do out of the house so I won't isolate myself. I already have an appointment to see a psychologist. Because I am desperate to snap out of this. I never felt like this before. I can’t recognize myself. I feel constantly sad... And I am a happy positive person on a daily basis. Of course, I had my ups and downs, especially in college where I couldn't trust my own abilities. But I got over that. And now that I feel confident in college I am failing once again because my body started to give up. I’m going to be a failure once again. I want to feel better again. I have to do something before this turns into a depression. It is so hard to get out of bed... to prepare a decent meal... I am feeling pretty low. But I know this is normal. It happens to everyone. This is life... So why can I just get through it? Because I am not strong enough. But I wanted to be. I am not special. What I am going through is not special. Some people had it worse than I had. So why can’t I just handle this?

I guess I am more sensible than I thought. That’s not good... I feel like losing my grandma is just like losing a part of me. I feel incomplete without her. Because she is a very strong figure for me. Both my grandmothers were just as present in my education and growth as my parents. I always lived very close to them. And my grandma always took care of everything, like a general. She was a true matriarch, both of them. That’s why seeing her in this state hurts. It is a shock. Both my grandmothers gave their lives to taking care of us. They are so strong. They went through so much in life.