#and ola's choice in clothes

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[roamwithahungryheart]

I haven’t seen anyone mention it yet and given you catch all the significant wardrobe moments, I was wondering your thoughts on both Ted and Rebecca wearing red in this week’s episode? Given the red string of fate, it seems like an interesting wardrobe choice. This show makes me overanalyze like crazy, so could be nothing!

The use of red in this episode was definitely intentional.

I think by putting Rebecca's outfit specifically against the backdrop of Arsenal, it's a way of pushing it to the back of our minds because hey, Arsenal's team logo is red, it's not that deep, right? HOWEVER!

Starting the episode with Ted wearing red, followed by Ted tripping over the red string (of fate) and Rebecca wearing red at the end of the episode is a narrative choice in terms of fashion & using costume design to convey meaning and character traits. The show's costume designer Jacky Levy has talked about this a little bit - Hannah chooses Rebecca's outfits alongside Jacky, and she's said that 'every choice is deliberate'. When you look at Rebecca's outfits through that lens, it makes them even more interesting!

Looking at Ted & Rebecca's red clothing throughout the show, there's a unifying theme - they both wear red when they're faced with change/challenges. Ted first wore a red polo shirt when he started to struggle with the split from Michelle. In that same episode, Ted & Rebecca walk alongside each other, both wearing red.

Rebecca's wearing red when Ted has his 'white knighting' moment in the pub. It's also worth noting that prior to this, Ted brings her biscuits & chocolate truffles as a thank you gift (which she eats exactly the way Ted suggests, before he has the chance to finish suggesting it) and they have the 'metaphorical St. Bernard' conversation.

Rebecca's red Roland Mouret dress on her date with John Wingsnight (derogatory) is worn underneath a biscuit box pink coat. Thinking about the 'struck by lightning' conversation, make of that what you will 👀

Similarly - although maybe this is a stretch and just a little bit of wishful thinking - Ted & Rebecca both wearing matching shades of red at Ola's on opening night when she receives the matchbook hits a little different after this week's episode.

3x07 gave us a clear indication that rom-communism is alive and well and on its way back to Richmond. Juxtaposing Rebecca's awkward moment meeting Sam's Dad with Simi meeting him closes the book on the connection with Sam. Sure, the Ola's red aprons might be nothing, but in the context of the red string of fate, Sam's Dad's apron strings 'tie' Sam & Simi together at the end of the episode.

Where does that leave Ted & Rebecca? At this point we don't know. But given the amount of times they've mirrored each other, and that ACNE Studios knot ring Rebecca wears to dinner with Keeley (more on that later), there's one more string left to tie this season.

[ootytour]

The road trip from Bangalore to Logan Camp Ooty spans approximately 280 kilometers, offering a blend of urban landscapes, picturesque countryside, and dense forests. The journey typically takes around 6 to 7 hours, depending on traffic and the chosen route. This trip is a popular getaway for those seeking a break from the hustle and bustle of city life, providing a perfect blend of relaxation and adventure.

Importance of Planning

Proper planning is crucial for making the most of your trip. From selecting the right time to travel to ensuring your vehicle is in top condition, careful preparation can help avoid potential pitfalls and enhance your overall experience. This guide aims to cover all aspects of planning and executing a memorable road trip to Logan Camp Ooty.

Planning Your Trip

Best Time to Travel

The best time to visit Ooty is during the summer months of March to June when the weather is pleasant and ideal for sightseeing and outdoor activities. However, if you enjoy cooler temperatures and the charm of misty landscapes, the winter months from October to February are also a great choice. Monsoon season, from July to September, brings heavy rainfall, which can make travel challenging but offers lush green scenery.

Route Options

There are two primary routes from Bangalore to Ooty:

Bangalore - Mysore - Ooty: This route takes you through the cultural city of Mysore, offering opportunities to explore its historic sites before heading to Ooty via the Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve.

Bangalore - Kanakapura - Chamarajanagar - Ooty: This route is slightly longer but less congested, passing through scenic rural landscapes and small towns.

Booking a Reliable Cab Service

Choosing a reliable cab service is essential for a comfortable and safe journey. Look for Ooty cabs providers with good reviews, professional drivers, and well-maintained vehicles. Booking in advance can ensure availability and potentially better rates. Some popular cab services in Bangalore include Ola Outstation, Uber Intercity, and local taxi operators.

Preparing for the Journey

Packing Essentials

When packing for your trip, consider the following essentials:

Clothing: Pack comfortable clothing suitable for the weather in Ooty. Layers are advisable as temperatures can vary.

Footwear: Sturdy, comfortable shoes for walking and outdoor activities.

Health and Hygiene: Personal hygiene items, hand sanitizer, masks, and any necessary medications.

Documents: Valid ID, driving license, vehicle documents, and cab booking confirmation.

Entertainment: Books, music, or games to keep you entertained during the journey.

Health and Safety Precautions

Ensure you are in good health before embarking on the trip. Carry a basic first aid kit, including band-aids, antiseptic wipes, pain relievers, and any prescription medications. It’s also wise to have travel insurance that covers medical emergencies.

Ensuring Vehicle Readiness

Before setting off, ensure that the cab is in excellent condition. Check the tires, brakes, oil, and coolant levels. Confirm that the vehicle has a spare tire, jack, and toolkit. Make sure the driver is experienced and familiar with the route. Having a GPS or a reliable navigation app can also be helpful.

Scenic Routes and Stops

Highlights of the Route

The journey from Bangalore to Ooty is replete with scenic highlights:

Ranganathittu Bird Sanctuary: A great spot for bird watching near Mysore.

Bandipur National Park: Offers glimpses of wildlife as you pass through.

Nanjangud Temple: An ancient temple near Mysore worth a short detour.

Must-Visit Spots Along the Way

Mysore Palace: A stunning example of Indo-Saracenic architecture.

Chamundi Hill: Offers panoramic views of Mysore and has a revered temple.

Mudumalai Wildlife Sanctuary: Located on the border of Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, it’s a great place for spotting elephants and tigers.

Cultural and Historical Landmarks

Temples and Heritage Sites

Sri Chamarajendra Zoological Gardens: One of the oldest and most well-maintained zoos in India, located in Mysore.

St. Philomena’s Church: A neo-gothic church in Mysore, known for its beautiful architecture.

Fernhills Palace: A historic palace in Ooty, now converted into a hotel, reflecting colonial-era opulence.

Museums and Galleries

Government Museum, Mysore: Houses a rich collection of artifacts and exhibits showcasing Karnataka’s history and culture.

Wax World Museum, Ooty: Features life-size wax statues of prominent figures and scenes from Indian history.

Natural Attractions

Waterfalls and Lakes

Pykara Falls: Located near Ooty, these falls are surrounded by dense forests and are a popular picnic spot.

Emerald Lake: A serene spot offering breathtaking views and opportunities for boating and picnicking.

Wildlife Sanctuaries and Parks

Mudumalai National Park: Known for its diverse flora and fauna, including elephants, tigers, and a variety of bird species.

Botanical Gardens, Ooty: Spread over 55 acres, these gardens are home to a wide range of plants, trees, and flowers.

Local Cuisine and Dining Experiences

Popular Restaurants and Eateries

Nahar’s Sidewalk Café: Known for its Italian and Indian cuisine, located in the heart of Ooty.

Shinkow’s Chinese Restaurant: A popular spot for authentic Chinese food in Ooty.

Unique Local Dishes

Nilgiri Tea: Ooty is famous for its aromatic Nilgiri tea, which you can enjoy at local tea shops.

Ooty Varkey: A local bakery delicacy that is crispy and delicious, often enjoyed with tea.

Accommodation Options

Lodging at Logan Camp

Logan Camp offers a range of accommodations, from tents to cottages, catering to different preferences and budgets. The camp provides amenities such as bonfires, guided tours, and adventure activities, ensuring a comfortable and memorable stay.

Alternative Stay Options in Ooty

Luxury Hotels: Options like Taj Savoy Hotel and The Gateway Hotel.

Budget Accommodations: Hotels like Hotel Darshan and Vinnca West Downs Heritage Resort offer comfortable stays at affordable prices.

Travel Tips and Recommendations

Budgeting for Your Trip

Plan your budget by considering expenses for transportation, accommodation, food, and activities.

Navigating Local Culture and Etiquette

Understanding local culture and etiquette can enhance your travel experience. In Ooty and surrounding areas, English is widely spoken, but learning a few basic Tamil phrases can be helpful. Respect local customs, dress modestly, especially when visiting temples, and always ask for permission before taking photographs of people.

Staying Connected and Informed

Ensure you have a reliable internet connection for navigation and staying in touch with family or friends. Local SIM cards or portable Wi-Fi devices are useful for this purpose. Keep a list of emergency contacts, including local police, hospital, and cab service numbers. Regularly check weather updates and road conditions, especially during the monsoon season.

Sustainability and Responsible Travel

Eco-Friendly Practices

Traveling sustainably involves minimizing your environmental footprint. Use reusable water bottles, avoid single-use plastics, and carry a reusable shopping bag. Dispose of waste responsibly and participate in local recycling programs when available. Opt for eco-friendly accommodations that implement sustainable practices.

Supporting Local Communities

Support the local economy by purchasing handicrafts and souvenirs directly from local artisans and businesses. Dining at local eateries and engaging in community-based tourism activities can also contribute positively. Respect cultural heritage sites and follow guidelines to preserve their integrity for future generations.

Personal Stories and Testimonials

Traveler Experiences

Many travelers have shared their delightful experiences of the Bangalore to Ooty trip. Anecdotes range from encountering wildlife at Bandipur National Park to enjoying serene moments by Emerald Lake. These personal stories often highlight the unexpected joys and challenges encountered along the way, offering valuable insights and tips for future travelers.

Memorable Moments and Tips

Travelers often recount memorable moments such as witnessing a breathtaking sunrise from Doddabetta Peak or participating in a local festival. Tips from seasoned travelers include starting the journey early to avoid traffic, carrying snacks and water for the trip, and making time for spontaneous stops to fully experience the beauty and culture of the region.

Photography and Videography Tips

Capturing the Journey

To document your journey effectively, start with the basics: ensure your camera or smartphone is fully charged and has enough storage space. Capture a mix of wide-angle shots to showcase the stunning landscapes and close-up shots to highlight details and textures. Early mornings and late afternoons provide the best natural light for photography.

Challenges and Solutions

Common Travel Hurdles

Traveling from Bangalore to Logan Camp Ooty can present various challenges, including unpredictable weather, traffic congestion, and navigating unfamiliar terrain. The physical demands of activities like trekking can also be challenging for some travelers.

How to Overcome Them

Weather: Check weather forecasts regularly and pack accordingly. Have contingency plans for indoor activities in case of bad weather.

Traffic: Start your journey early to avoid peak traffic hours. Use navigation apps to find the best routes and avoid congested areas.

Physical Demands: Stay hydrated, take regular breaks, and pace yourself during physical activities. If needed, hire a guide to assist with trekking or other demanding activities.

Final Thoughts

Reflecting on the Journey

Reflecting on the road trip from Bangalore to Logan Camp Ooty brings to mind the blend of scenic beauty, cultural richness, and adventurous spirit that defines this journey. Each stop along the way offers a unique experience, contributing to a tapestry of memories that travelers cherish long after the trip ends.

Encouragement for Future Travelers

For those considering this adventure, embrace it with enthusiasm and an open mind. Thorough preparation and a flexible itinerary will help you make the most of your journey. Whether you seek relaxation, cultural enrichment, or thrilling outdoor activities, this trip has something to offer everyone.

[olaotter]

 Shop Tops For Girls | Organic Trendy Girls Top| – Ola! Otter

Elevate Your Baby Girls Wardrobe with Ola! Otter's Stylish Tops and Tees

If you are looking for great quality of tops for girl than Ola! Otter's baby girls tops and tees are designed with a belief that even the littlest fashionistas deserve to dress in style. Our collection is thoughtfully designed to cater to the fashion needs of your precious one, offering a range of designs that will make her look adorable and feel comfortable. From Polo T-shirts to Round Neck Tees with pockets, Round Neck Oversized Tees, and Short Sleeve Tees, we've got it all to create a stylish and versatile wardrobe for your baby girl.

Why Choose Ola! Otter's Baby Girls Tops and Tees?

Unique Designs:

We understand that every baby girl is unique, and her clothing should be too. Our collections feature adorable baby girls top design and charming details that set them apart. Whether you're looking for a baby girl jeans top or a trendy top design for your little one, our collection has something for every taste.

Comfort First:

While style is essential, comfort is non-negotiable. Our tops and tees are crafted from soft, breathable fabrics to ensure your baby girl feels cosy all day long. The gentle touch of our materials will keep her smiling and at ease.

Versatility:

Our tops and tees are designed to be versatile. They can be easily mixed and matched with other pieces in our collection, allowing you to create a wide range of adorable outfits for any occasion.

Explore Our Baby Girls Tops and Tees Collection

Polo T-Shirts: Make your baby girl stand out with our adorable Polo T-Shirts. These classic, yet fashionable tops are perfect for dressing up or down, and they're designed to keep your baby girl looking chic and feeling comfortable.

Round Neck Tees with a Pocket: For a touch of playfulness and practicality, our Round Neck Tees with pockets are an excellent choice. They're perfect for storing tiny treasures or simply adding a charming detail to your baby girl's outfit.

Round Neck Oversized Tees: The Round Neck Oversized Tees offer a relaxed and fashionable look. Their loose fit ensures that your baby girl can move freely while looking stylish.

Short-Sleeve Tees: Our Short-sleeve Tees are perfect for warmer days or layering under jackets and cardigans. They come in various delightful designs, making them a must-have in your baby girl's wardrobe.

Flutter Sleeve Tops: Our Flutter Sleeve Tops add a touch of whimsy and femininity to your baby girl's outfit. The delicate flutter sleeves create a charming and playful look, perfect for any occasion.

FAQs

How do I choose the right size for my baby girls tops and tees?

Selecting the right size for your baby girls tops and tees is important for her comfort. We provide detailed size charts to help you choose the perfect fit. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to our customer support team for assistance.

Can I mix and match tops and tees with other Ola! Otter clothing?

Absolutely! Our baby girl tops and tees are designed to be versatile and can be paired with other items in our collection. Mix and match to create adorable and unique outfits for your little one.

How do I care for Ola! Otter's baby girls tops and tees?

To keep your baby girls tops and tees looking great, we recommend following the care instructions on the product label. In general, we advise washing in cold water and avoiding bleach to preserve the colors and fabric quality. For specific care guidelines, refer to the product details.

At Ola! Otter, we take pride in offering a range of baby girl tops and tees that are not only stylish and comfortable but also versatile and easy to care for. Explore our collection of baby girl jeans top today and give your baby girl the gift of fashion and comfort.

To read full Blog Visit - Shop Tops For Girls | Organic Trendy Girls Top| – Ola! Otter

[putchi3]

Why Should There Be A Switch To Bamboo Intimate Wear

Be it a sweaty summer, a cozy winter, or comfortable monsoon wear - whatever the occasion and weather - the first checklist starts with intimate wear - bras, panties, and camis. When you say undergarments, we seek sweat-free, comfy, quick-drying fabrics.

Over the years, cotton has been our go-to undergarment fabric because of its breathability. But did you watch the trend of bamboo thriving in fabrics and apparel? Quintessentially, into the world of intimate wear, leaving no style and comfort unturned.

What about bamboo fabric? Why should someone switch to bamboo intimate wear? Scroll down! We got you covered.

What is Bamboo Fabric?

What strikes your mind if you close your eyes and imagine a bamboo fabric? Wood? Fiber? Some rough brownish cloth? Ah! How about this? Natural and eco-friendly, bamboo fiber is the 21st century's new textile material, all thanks to its impressive properties. For starters, bamboo is 100% biodegradable. From nature, to nature.

It grows under suitable conditions without pesticides, bamboo is a sustainable resource. Also, let's tell you this: bamboo is grass, not wood as you see it. As a result, it takes less time to grow and mature than normal trees. It develops into a strong and durable material within 4-5 years and is ready for harvest.

The harvest is then sent to a mill, bathed with sodium hydroxide solution to dissolve its cellulose. Carbon disulfide is added next, followed by fiber extraction. The final step is to clean, bleach, and dry the fibers. Bamboo pulp is processed like this to produce long, clear, and firm fibers.

Bamboo can grow really fast. What? Not believing? It can grow up to 3 feet in a day. While bamboo has historically been used for structural purposes, technology has enabled bamboo fiber to be used in a variety of textile and fashion applications. Modern-day bamboo clothes are challenging veteran fabric rulers like silk and cotton.

Why should you switch to bamboo intimate wear?

There are countless reasons to prefer bamboo inner wear. Its luxuriously-soft texture and Eco-friendly attributes make bamboo intimates a must-have. What's more? It has got to offer a lot to your body. Check them out!

A healthier choice from you to the intimate you!

Bamboo underwear is healthier, which makes it a popular choice for many people. It contains a natural antibacterial and anti fungal bio-agent so that your intimate wear is non-infectious. Not just that, it also makes it odor-resistant. An absolute must for undergarments! The fibers in bamboo create micro spaces that can wave out the moisture. So, no sweat, no itching, no rashes.

Comfortable fabric

Metamorphically and literally, the vital part we seek in intimate wear is comfort. Bamboo intimate wear ticks that list first with its airy, ultra smooth, and gentle fabric texture. Adding to it is the thermoregulating nature it holds. The result will be a cool summer and a warm winter. The no-static character helps you stay non-clingy to your inner wear.

Highly suitable for all skin types

We know the struggle of people with sensitive skin. It's not easy to find a fabric match. A simple wrong choice can cause allergic reactions, rashes, eczema, and intimate acne. But the good news that comes along is bamboo fabric is the best alternative for even super sensitive skin. The fibers are a natural blend with all skin types and sensitivities. Ola!

Does UV protection only apply to the face? Your skin is now covered too!

Not just your face; your body needs an SPF too! And what if we say the best shield from UV rays is bamboo? No, we aren't joking here. Bamboo comes with inbuilt UV protection layers in its fibers. It can filter out as much as 97.5% of harmful UV rays. Thus, it is essential for your skin, especially when you get to soak in sun rays for a more extended period.

Maintenance free? - Woah! Add a point.

How many times have you worn a washed cotton dress just as it is? Wrinkled cloth? No way, right? Cotton needs regular maintenance like starch, ironing, specific wash patterns, etc. But bamboo blesses you by waving them all away. There is no need to iron bamboo clothing. Despite frequent washings, bamboo fibers hold their shape remarkably well, making the fabric nearly wrinkle-proof.

Bamboo knows there's no planet B.

Sustainability is the need of the hour, and bamboo adheres to its rules. If the bamboo fabric is made in accordance with environmental protocols, it is 100% biodegradable. What else with an eco-friendly choice? Enjoy a wide range of bamboo intimate wear guilt-free. Now we know your next question. In the market with a variety of brands claiming to be bamboo made, which is a reliable brand?

The Putchi! An award-winning pure bamboo twin knit technology brought to you with a wide range of products for women. The range starts with bamboo intimate wear to dresses, salwar suits to festive wear, and more! Putchi believes in women cherishing every phase of their life. Pregnancy & nursing collections are their best go-to. Comfortable, thermoregulating, and UV-protected, they feature sustainable, antimicrobial, wicking fabric. So, what are you waiting for? Grab your bamboo intimate wear today!

To know more: https://theputchi.com/blogs/birth-of-putchi/why-should-there-be-a-switch-to-bamboo-intimate-wear

[c-ones-adults-only-club]

Chapter 3- Enter the Brothers Opress…

Summary: The Brothers arrive…

TW: no real warnings for this one, just Ola’s wondering and Maul being Maul.

Link to chapter 2

The transport shuddered slightly as it came to a stop at the docking bay of the mining facility. The access hatch hissed as it opened, permitting the exit of it's only passengers. A black robed figure descended the ramp silently, each step casual yet calculated. The cold breeze flapped the loose fabric of his clothing, but he paid it no mind. He waited at the foot of the ramp, blazing yellow eyes staring at the dark facility before him. They narrowed minutely.

Something was… amiss. He felt it keenly, but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

Behind him, his larger counterpart stepped onto the ramp. His heavy footfalls rattled the metal slightly, his steps casual in their confidence. He stopped by his brother's side.

"Something feels… off." He looked down at the crimson and black Zabrak, waiting for confirmation that what he felt was right.

"Yes, my brother. I feel it. There's too much… apprehension." He turned to his brother. "Come, Savage. Let us see how successful our friend has been in his folly. Perhaps we can gain insight as to why there is such tension permeating the Force." Savage nodded, following Maul as they entered the building.

—————————————-

Hours seemed to pass since Ola’s dreams of release had been crushed. She sat curled in a corner, knees hugged to her chest and head buried into the pale folds of her costume. She sobbed quietly, soaking the fabric with her tears. She didn’t care that the dirty floor would ruin the chiffon and stain the cotton. She didn’t care that she herself would end up filthy from sitting on the floor.

She just wanted to go home. She wanted to wake up and discover that this was all just a bad dream. That she was actually at home in her tiny apartment, in her single bed, waking up to start yet another mundane day filled with waitressing and fending off the unwanted leering from some of the males, and the odd female, she encountered in her job.

She almost wished that she’d taken that sleazy guest up on his offer. Maybe then this would never have happened.

‘No,’ she thought to herself. ‘You’d just end up being some plaything for a too-rich playboy and his friends.’

‘But what if that’s what’s going to happen here?’ She argued internally.

The thought made her sick to her stomach.

She shuddered, tightening her hold on her legs, drawing them further into her body. She rocked herself gently, trying to find some comfort. Images of slimy people with wandering hands, lecherous eyes and oily words flashed before her eyes, raising bile up her throat. A ragged sob escaped with her next breath, loud and echoey in the too-quiet cell.

That was the sound that welcomed her guard.

Ola startled as the ray shield was deactivated, permitting the man entrance to the tiny room.

He was carrying something.

She watched him fearfully as he approached her, yelping and hiding her face in her knees when he threw the whatever-it-was at her. It clattered against the floor.

“Put that on.” She looked up at him, and then down at the familiar bit of gold plastoid. The mask stared back up at her. She blinked in confusion, looking up at the armoured man. He heaved an irritated sigh.

“Put it on, or I'll put it on for you.” With a shaking hand, she reached forward and picked up the mask, brushing a thumb over the smooth surface.

“W-why?” A threatening step forward was her only answer, startling her into action. She hurriedly fixed the mask over her eyes. She looked back up at the man, expecting him to do something else.

He simply nodded once, and then left. The ray shield reactivated, blocking her exit once again.

Ola sat, confused and bewildered. Why did they want her to wear the mask again? What kind of sick game were they playing with her?

She had no other choice than to wait and find out.

—————————————————————-

The lingering feelings of fear and hopelessness seemed to cling to the very walls as Maul and Savage calmly made their way towards the meeting room. That was unusual, even if their associate had been successful. If there was one thing Maul knew about the targeted Senator, it was that she was forever hopeful.

And, indeed, she could afford to be when she had close friendships with Jedi such as Skywalker and Kenobi.

After all, as had been proven time and again: if she was in danger, they were never far behind. Always ready to rescue their dear friend.

Not that she was a fragile flower. She was more than capable, and willing, to defend herself. He would admit that she impressed him, even if it was slight.

And the fact that she was not afraid to voice her opinion to his former Master, regardless of his disguise, humoured him.

Which begged the question- who had been captured? Who did this fear and hopelessness belong to?

Vizsla's idea had been foolish from the start. Holding the Senator until the Republic heard his demands? Pathetic. Maul had only agreed to it to satisfy his own amusement. It would appear, if his senses were correct, that the plan had fallen at the first hurdle.

And his senses were very rarely wrong.

Upon entering the room, the former Sith apprentice's keen awareness fell immediately on the head of the Death Watch. There was a certain… anxiety that came off the silver-haired man in waves, though he tried to hide it behind a mask of calm aloofness.

He was trying to hide something.

“Ah, my friends. A pleasure to see you.” Pre Vizsla stood from his chair, circling the table to stand before them.

“Vizsla.” Maul delighted in the sliver of fear he elicited from the man, but kept his expression carefully neutral. He felt the slight shift of movement as Savage clenched and relaxed a fist. He cast him a negating glance, and turned his attention back to the man before him. "I expected the Senator to join us for our meeting. There was no… trouble, I hope." A slight tremble in the self-proclaimed Heir of Mandalore's hand as he smoothed his hair back was the only outward sign of the building nerves Maul could feel permeating the Force.

"Ah, yes. Well, it would seem that we have stumbled into a slight complication." Maul and Savage shared a secretly amused look.

"Complications, Vizsla? At so early a stage?" He watched the man swallow, though his face was set in a stoic mask.

"Sadly, yes. It would appear that our dear Senator was not herself present at the gathering." Maul calmly and carefully stepped forward, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. He felt like a predator closing in on his prey, a feeling he had always enjoyed.

"Oh? But you quite clearly stated that you had acquired our guest. I do hope you weren't lying to me, Vizsla." The very air around the man shivered at his quietly threatening tone. Behind him, Savage held back the snicker at the fear in the human's eyes.

"No, my friend. Not a lie. It would seem that y… the Black Sun apprehended a decoy, instead." Maul slowly paced, with all the grace of a nexu poised to strike. Vizsla’s correction didn’t escape his notice.

"I see. And where is this… decoy now?" The first glint of anger finally shone in the man's eyes.

"You don't believe me?" he growled. One look from the Zabrak quelled that anger. He took a deep breath through his nose before continuing. "She's in the detention block, awaiting your judgement." Maul turned fully to him, studying him closely. He caught the small tremor of fear that emanated from the man. He hummed.

"Very well. Come, Savage. Let us go and greet our friend's decoy.”

Upon exiting the room, Maul grinned wickedly at the sudden up-welling of concern and dread that the man finally allowed himself to feel. Next to him, Savage grumbled.

"Why do we continue to do business with that worm? Why don't we just kill him and be done with it?"

"Patience, Savage. All in due time. We would have nothing to gain from his demise. Yet." Maul stopped in their trek towards the cells. Savage stopped beside him. "His underling is currently on Mandalore, making preparations for his official introduction as the new leader. We will let him have his moment in the light, let him get established."

"And then kill him?"

"Yes, Apprentice. And then we will kill him. But it will require a certain finesse, a certain amount of ritual, if we want the people to fall in line. I shall be the one to do it, and claim the Darksaber. With it, I shall inherit the throne of Mandalore, with you as my right hand, and together with the might of the Mandalorian warriors, we can at last have our revenge against those that have wronged us." The larger Zabrak nodded.

"I like the sound of that," he rumbled with a wicked smile. They continued on their walk, the fearful feelings they’d sensed upon their arrival gaining strength the closer they got to the cells.

"But, as I say. All in due time. Let us first see to our… unwilling guest."

@eloquentmoon @rubytotherebellion @grinningnexu @kaminocasey @nxctuaryninetythree @botherbother-blog @stardustbee @writercels

Link to chapter 4

[zeroraisedtozero]

Sham Ka Waqt

6 PM, Monday.

Having finished my coaching class in Borivali, a small suburban town in the metropolitan city of Mumbai, I headed for my next class in Malad, another suburban town in the city. This time, instead of hailing an Ola or an Uber cab, I desired to travel by Metro rail which had started plying the route only a few days back. I was pretty excited to be enjoying my maiden journey on the said route. Saving a couple of hundred bucks by traveling in this mode only added to the excitement. 

I boarded the train from the station named Devipada. Contrary to my fear that the train would be madly crowded given that my travel time was in the rush hours of the day in a city like Mumbai, the train turned out to be, quite pleasantly, very thinly occupied. The compartment was full of streams of vacant seats each of which stared at me invitingly, but I looked for one that would be decently away from all the fellow travelers even though they were sparsely seated. Just a couple of glances left and right and I could spot one which was one of the two-seaters benches in the far corner much away from the gazes of others. I walked leisurely to that corner and happily settled myself on the seat. The AC inside was pleasantly mild and soothing. 

Hardly had I made myself comfortable in the solitude of that corner, when a fellow passenger emerged from nowhere and sat right next to me, leaving all those seats lying vacant in the compartment. Even though he was rightfully occupying a seat, I found that to be a bit encroaching upon my chosen solitariness.

This sudden uninvited guest, immediately after becoming my neighbor, turned towards me, “Sir, can you please help me identify with the train’s reaching the station Kurar”. I felt a bit perplexed at this request of his, as I found the PA system and the indicator panel in the compartment to be working perfectly fine. This unexpected request naturally elicited a curt reply from me, “Oh sure!!”. I was feeling a bit uneasy and thinking of settling elsewhere when he further intruded, 

“Sir, if you don’t mind, may I ask you something”?

“Yes, please”

“Sir, can you please suggest where can I get an apartment to live in the city?”

Without pausing to listen to my reaction, he continued, “actually sir, I am an actor and new to the place, I mean new in this area and don’t know where should I search for a place for myself. Sir, the price of the flat is not the issue, I need a decent place and one of my own choices. The area of the flat should be good enough to lead a decent life….” While he was narrating his list of requirements before me, I was looking at him surprisingly as well as inquisitively, trying to size up his overall personality at the moment. 

The man seemed to be in his mid-fifties and was thinly built. His face was somewhat jaundiced but the tinge of honesty in his eyes had not faded. He seemed quite energetic from the suddenness with which he appeared next to me. He was plainly dressed in his shirt untucked and trousers un-ironed. He was in his slippers which were a bit old and frayed at the sides. He was holding a cloth bag which was not very clean and carried a few patches on itself. In toto, he looked financially challenged and a disturbed gentleman. 

I dropped the plan of moving on to another seat and started getting engaged in his conversation. After listening to his requirements, instead of discussing that, I asked about his native place as he was speaking flawless Hindi. Not only about his place, but he also started giving the account of his complete family background.

“Sir, I am from Delhi. My name is Rajkumar.”

“Rajkumar what?... I mean your surname?”

“Sir, Rajkumar is the only name I am known in my circle. My surname is Sharma though”

“ok”

“My father’s name is Balraj Sahni”

“Sahni?? It should be Sharma no?”

“True, but he is known as Balraj Sahni”

“Why is that so”

“His name is Balraj Sharma but popularly known as Balraj Sahni. He retired as a brigadier from the force. He is very daring and caring. I am also very daring. I never compromise in the roles I bag in a movie. Right now, also I am coming from a shoot and I denied to bow to the director’s crazy demands. The unit warned me that I would lose the role. I also told them very categorically that, I don’t care about losing any roles. I would do it on my terms. I am, you know, like the hero Rajkumar and I don’t fear anybody. See, I am already 60 years old and still, I am so fit. My dad has no problem spending a good amount in a flat. He can spend up to 2 crores”

His talks were going on and on…when I suddenly realized that his stop has arrived. I wanted to spend some more time with him, but dutifully, I indicated the arrival of his destination.

Thanking me, he deboarded the train quickly displaying once again his fitness and the energy in his balanced gait and body movement.

After he left, I found a paradigm shift in my feeling towards him: from detesting his unwelcome proximity to me to pitying his condition. What would have disturbed him so badly? Perhaps his not being able to come out of his glorious past? He had come to the city of Bollywood in his heydays as he divulged this also in his discourse. All these years he has been struggling to get a foothold in the city of casualties, but yet not successful? Has he been abandoned by his family? His introduction about himself and his father suggested that his past seemed to be connected to the blockbuster “Waqt” starring Balaraj Sahni who played the role of Rajkumar’s father in the movie.

I was engrossed in such thoughts of reaching some conclusion about him when I realized that my stop also has arrived. I deboarded the train and headed towards the exit to catch an autorickshaw. I boarded one and started thinking about the flow of the lecture to be delivered in my next class. 

When I reached my destination, a sudden thought of him flashed through me…The unfortunate guy is still trapped in his old “waqt. With this conclusion, I got out of the rickshaw and found myself to be looking casually at the setting sun on the far horizon that was visible through the narrow gap of the skyscrapers...

It has always been a feeling of gloom viewing the setting sun…with the never-ending hope of its rising again…

...May God bless Him…

[doyelikehaggis]

for the wip game: 2, 17, & 35?

Ahh, good choices!! So, “Sex Education Goes Camping” is... kind of exactly what it sounds like. The students of Moordale High are going on one last school trip before their school is closed down for good. Organized and supervised by Colin and Emily, of course. But there’s more than just the tension of the inevitable goodbye they’ll all have to say at the end of it; Adam and Eric haven’t talked since they broke up. Ruby is completely avoiding Otis, who feels terrible about hurting her. Maeve is leaving for America the moment they get back, and doesn’t want to make the goodbye any harder by letting Otis try and convince her to stay. Aimee and Steve have just broken up, but they’re working on being friends. 

Jackson's eyebrows furrow. Maeve frowns. Otis and Eric share another confused look, as do a lot of others.

Spreading his arms, Mr Hendricks loudly says, "You are all utterly fucked! As am I, and so is Miss Sands! Well, I mean we can obviously find other teaching jobs, but it's not exactly easy, so, technically speaking, we are all very much fucked, you're right, Jackson."

Jackson just raises an eyebrow, then looks away. Miss Sands quickly joins Mr Hendricks on the stage as the students chattering gets louder around the room.

"What Mr Hendricks means to say--" Miss Sands shoots him a quick glare as she leans into the microphone, making him take a few steps back from it (and her) "--is that it doesn't have to be all bad!"

"No offence, Miss," Ruby interrupts, "but you're not the one about to have your entire future turned to shit without your consent." 

Miss Sands nods, and says, "No, you're right. I'm only losing a job, but you are all losing the chance to finish your education comfortably -- or maybe at all. And I am... so incredibly sorry about that. I truly wish this wasn't happening to any of us. But it is. And we have to deal with that."

"We have to make the most of the time we have left together," Mr Hendricks chimes back in, taking a cautious step towards the podium. "Which is why us teachers and some of your parents/guardians have banded together to give you lot one last Moordale High experience!" 

More murmuring. Eric and Maeve are already groaning, while Otis looks cautiously hopeful. Many more of them are apprehensive, including the likes of Adam and Ola, but they're sitting up a bit straighter in their seats, waiting to find out the rest. 

They've all experienced many things at Moordale High, not all of them good, but not all of them awful, either. Some of them have been the best time of their lives, like the performance they put on just a few weeks ago to rid themselves of Hope. And some have an utter disaster like their trip to France.

Most of them are assuming it's going to be leaning more towards the latter. And it feels as though their fears are confirmed when Mr Hendricks excitedly, and dramatically, yells, "We're going camping!" 

I completely forgot I hastily named it “Uncle Shawn the Icon” for this asjkdhajksh okay so. Auggie starts experimenting with feminine clothes, something that Cory, Topanga, and Riley are more than supportive of. But, unfortunately, people at his school aren’t as supportive. When he starts acting different (like Riley in that one episode where she was being bullied), they know something is up, and Cory happens to mention it to Shawn. Uncle Shawn who, after spending that week as “Veronica” realized he actually liked presenting as a girl sometimes, and came out as genderfluid. He comes over to have a proper talk with Auggie, and let him see that it doesn’t matter what other people say about them. Bonus: Riley mentions it to her friends because she’s worried about Auggie, and most of them jump to Auggie’s defence. 

"Auggie's being bullied."

Maya blinks. Farkle sits back in his seat. Stunned into silence. Lucas is shaking his head, and Zay and Smackle share a confused glance at each other.

Then comes the eruption.

"Give me names and addresses," Maya demands, voice like sharp ice and scalding lava at the same time, retracting her hand from Riley's arm. Ready to storm out right now to track them down.

That's exactly why Riley doesn't answer her, but she does look at her like she's crazy, and she says, "Maya! They're kids!"

"I'm going to kill them, what do I care if they're twelve?"

Riley's about to tell her she should very much care, because when they were twelve, they benefited much more from being talked to rather than killed. At the same time, they never did anything even remotely like the kids bullying Auggie.

"Did he tell you why they're bullying him?" Lucas asks, sounding like he can't think of a reason why anyone would want to.

"We already had an idea, and Ava told us this morning. He wants to wear skirts. Not just that, but more feminine clothing in general." She drops her head back onto her arms. "He was so excited to wear one of my old skirts on the first day of school yesterday, and now he won't even come out of his room. I don't know how to help him because he won't talk to any of us."

"Those little b--"

"Language," Riley says flatly, not even having the heart to really care if she finishes her sentence or not. Honestly, she feels like doing it for her. "I know, Maya, I'm mad too. I just don't know what to do about it."

"Say something," Farkle says.

Riley lifts her head and turns in her seat to look at him curiously.

"Your parents could say something to the school," he suggests. "I can't guarantee it would stop them, but if we were vocal enough about it--"

"We?" Riley asks, eyebrows raising.

Farkle looks at her seriously, and says, "My dad could make the loudest noise, and I know he would do it if I asked him to. It's Auggie, Riley. Of course I'm not just going to stand by."

"Yeah, and besides, no one should be bullied for what they wear," Maya adds, throwing Farkle a small smile that he gratefully returns. Then she turns back to Riley. "Seriously, Riles, your parents should say something to the school."

Riley agrees with them. It had crossed her mind this morning, and she's sure her parents are already thinking the same thing. She looks to Lucas, Zay, and Smackle.

Without a question asked, Smackle is nodding immediately, and firmly, a look similar to Farkle's on her face.

"They're right," she says matter-of-factly. Then, with a softer note, adds, "It's unfair for them to get away with trying to stop him from expressing himself. People don't like different and it's..."

"It's wrong," Zay finishes for her. "Auggie doesn't deserve that. Going to the school about it might not help but at least it'll make some noise, right? That would do something good, make people aware that it's unfair the way he's getting treated."

Riley's heart is ready to burst from how apparant their support for Auggie is, and just how serious they are about wanting to help. She smiles at Zay, and he smiles back, reaching forward to pat her hand on the top of her chair.

Her eyes slide to Lucas. He hasn't said anything yet.

I really need to hurry up and finish “Clash of the European Boyfriends”, I feel like I’ve been writing it for years. I feel like I’ve summarised it before, but I’ll give another quick one just in case -- There’s a dinner party being hosted at the Salvatore household, set up by Stefan, Elijah, and Lexi. It was more a way of forcing Damon, Enzo, Klaus, and Stefan to get along, but also a good way to get Hope more familiar with the house for the longterm future. Some awkwardness and tension ensures because you just can’t have those four in a house together and not expect something to go wrong. I would love to be able to give a snippet for this but I’ve been rewriting it so much that I can’t decide on anything that might actually make it into the finished fic, so I’m going to skip this one if that’s okay. Hopefully I’ll actually decide where it’s going and what I’m doing with it soon. 

Thank you for sending these, I’m really having so much fun with it!! 

[ill-skillsgard]

Faith and Faust have been on my MIND lately. Thinking about him starting to get more protective over her like him waking up to her curling into his side and he has his arm sling around her. Or at a party when one of the rivaling band dudes tries getting her to sleep with him. He ends shit quick.

Previous Faust x Faith imagines here (x)

Note: This drabble got looooong. Over 3K. I think it might qualify as a one-shot, but oh well. We’re super close to the smut I’ve been teasing y’all Faust fans with. Enjoy!

Warning: 18+ drug use/drinking/violence/death threats etc.

Faust watched joy unfurl on Faith’s face. What was once her standard smile brightened into a beam so incandescent he had to look away. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms about his neck. If he took a step, surely she would have remained stuck on him like a cluster of chattering burrs.

“You really want me to come? Like, really? It’s not just a pity invite?” Faith asked.

“I’d never invite you if I didn’t actually want you there,” Faust told her.

“I know! I’m just so happy! I can’t wait!”

As fast as she exploded, a sudden and cold realization snuffed her enthusiasm. Faust saw her eyes, once wide and spirited, turn wistful. 

“What is it?” He asked, feeling her disappointment as she slid off him.

“My parents will never let me go. Not for an entire weekend.”

Faust clicked his tongue. “You’re an adult, Faith. You can do whatever you want.”

She shook her head, teeth pulling her bottom lip inside her mouth. “Not if I want to live there. As much as I’d love to be on my own like you, a minimum wage job at a bookstore barely covers rent. And I don’t know anyone around here who’d be my roommate.”

Faith assumed her disclosure would throw the same gloomy shroud over Faust’s expression, but he smirked and snorted. “Just tell them you’re going camping with Jessica and her family.”

“My dad will demand to meet her parents. There’s no way they’ll let me skip church for a camping trip without meeting them. Trust me, I know my parents. There’s no way to pull it off.”

“What about a phone call? What if Jessica’s dad talked to your dad on the phone? Would that work?”

Faith drew breath in through her teeth. When she looked up at Faust and saw his air hadn’t tainted with the sourness of defeat as hers had, it gave her a glimmer of hope. She’d do most anything to go away for a few days with Faust and his band. 

“I’m not sure. It’s risky. And if he doesn’t buy it, I’ll be screwed. He’ll never let me out of the house.”

“It’s stupid that your parents still control everything you do. Do they expect you to suck the teat your whole life? What about when you go off to university? Are they gonna monitor you every day?”

“No, but then I won’t be under their roof,” said Faith, her cheeks warming from his distaste. 

“Just tell him you’re going to Jessica’s for the night, then call the next day and say you’re staying another night.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. They’re already questioning me about her. Asking when they get to meet her, what’s wrong with having sleepovers at our house... My dad is catching on, I can feel it.”

Faust grunted his aggravation. “I feel like I’m dating a ten-year-old. You have to get permission to do anything. It’s fucking stupid.”

His frustration stirred up a whirlwind of emotions in her chest. On one end, Faith loved to hear him admit they were a couple, but on the other, Faust’s scorn reminded her of the infantile rules she had to follow and her father’s distrust. She was an adult, and there was no reason she shouldn’t be allowed to go away with her new boyfriend for a few days. Dejected and without hope, Faith’s eyes watered.

“Don’t you think I know how stupid it is without having you reminding me all the time? I don’t want to be me, but I am. If I don’t listen to my parents, they won’t let me choose my school or anything. They’ll put me in a private school. You don’t understand what it’s like to have parents like mine.”

“Thank fuck, I don’t.”

“So, I guess I’m not coming with you.”

Faust sneered and motioned at her purse. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“I’m calling your dad.”

Faith clutched the strap of her suede bag, the thought of a staged conversation between her secret boyfriend and her father causing a lapse in any rational thought process. Though she stood rigid, Faust urged for her phone. She held her breath after relenting, a faint whisper of sweat dappling her nape. He held the phone to his ear and, noticing Faith’s paleness, turned from her to not crack a laugh.

Faith longed to hear her father’s voice, whether he spoke in a monotone or smelled the bullshit reeking off Faust’s words. Before she leaned in, Faust laughed through another bite of conversation, thanked the man and hung up. He tossed the phone to Faith and winked.

“That’s how it’s fucking done, babe. You’re coming.”

“What? Really? You did it?”

Faust wished not for her praise, so he stooped quickly to kiss her, but she pulled away, astonishment hanging off her jaw. 

“Wait, what did he say?” She asked.

“He said yes, obviously.”

“No, but, like, what did he say?”

“A whole bunch of shit. I don’t know, but you might want to start thinking up a new imaginary best friend because he’s keen on meeting Jessica and her bullshit parents soon,” Faust guffawed.

~*~

After Faith climbed into the back of the band van — a rust-bitten, grey clunker of a machine — Faust gave her a bare introduction to the rest of the passengers. The group wore clothes of all black, patched denim vests, leather boots or white high-top sneakers and sported varying lengths of shaggy headbanger hair. Faith felt vibrant as a rainbow with her floral summer dress on and a glinting gold chain suspending a cross pendant between her breasts. She hoped her fashion choices wouldn’t harrow Faust’s reputation as the broodiest member of the band, but when he held her hand in the back seat as they took off, all self-consciousness flew out the cracked windows. 

They pulled up to a squat apartment building where two girls stood waiting. Similar black clothes, dyed hair, illegible band patches, ripped fishnet tights and metal jewellery reminded Faith of how different she must have looked. She was the outcast in this group of like-minded individuals. The girls piled into the van, throwing their backpacks into the mess of camping gear while one lit a joint and passed it to Ola, the guitar player, who’d taken up a third of the space in the van by lying length-wise across the floor. The second of the pair noticed Faith and scrutinized her with two heavily lined blue eyes.

“Who’s that?” The girl made a general inquiry, avoiding eye contact with the newest presence in their group.

Faith hesitated a breath and then answered. “My name’s Faith.”

The duo exchanged smirks and giggled. “Okay. Did you find this one at Sunday school, Faust?” The blue-eyed girl asked.

A frosty mask of distaste tainted the drummer’s neutral expression. “Fuck off, Anika. Not everyone’s cunt doubles as a sewer. Nasty bitch.”

The girl named Anika scoffed, smacking Ola to prompt some defence, but received a chorus of snickering instead.

“Fuck you, Faust,” sneered Anika, imploring Ola’s intervention with a glare. “Are you just gonna let him talk to me like that?

Ola shrugged his shoulders, pulled his hood up over his mop of long blond hair and lowered his sunglasses. “He’s got a point.”

Anika turned her attention back to her friend, conveying some wordless message, and scoffed again. “We’re already off to a great start. Faust’s dating Mother Teresa and Ola’s being a little bitch.”

Mordy, the bass-player and driver, glanced into the rearview mirror, cynical eyes pinning on Faith before a curve in the road demanded his attention. She recognized him from the party. He was a quiet man with long, brown curls tied into a ponytail that nearly dusted his tailbone. Mordy shook his head and turned up the stereo to drown out the voices with walls of assaulting guitar riffs.

To Mordy’s right, the singer of the band — if he could be referred to as a singer — slouched into his seat, cracked leather boots perched up on the dash. Faith forgot his name, but didn’t worry over figuring it out until later. The passengers bobbed their heads in time with the music as they carved through the countryside and came to a dirt road that stretched for miles. She worried Faust’s friends would never accept her, but when he took up her hand again and held it in his lap, she leaned her head on his shoulder and decided it didn’t matter. Faust liked her, maybe even loved her, and that was enough.

The spot they chose was no more a campsite than the forest was a trailer park. Faith thought they’d never stop hiking until they came upon a small clearing, far enough away from civilization it was unlikely anyone might chance upon their tents. The group set up their gear while Ola and Mordy argued over who got to start the bonfire. 

By the time Faith unrolled her sleeping bag and changed into more comfortable clothes, the sun was minutes from disappearing. Mosquitoes caught their scent, ignoring the citronella torches doing nothing to keep them at bay. Faust insisted she douse herself in bug spray and did the same before rolling a felled log from the forest to use as a seat next to the crackling fire. Once the group gathered around the flame, out came the beers and weed. Several joints came around the circle, one of which Faith took a puff of before Faust plucked it from her fingers.

“You’re gonna give yourself the spins,” he warned.

Anika glared at the drummer. “Let her smoke if she wants to, Faust.”

Shocked by Anika’s change of heart, Faith gave her friendliest smile. Perhaps it was the alcohol smoothing over her prior judgments, or maybe she was always crass with newcomers, but soon, Anika and her friend Sam urged Faith over to their area, offering her sips of hard lemonade between pulls from a shared joint. Faust watched from the corner of his eye as he poked at the embers with a stick. 

“Um, where do we go to pee?” Faith asked an hour after sundown.

Faust spread his arms wide, gesturing all around the site. “The forest is your toilet.”

She blushed and turned to her new girlfriends.

“Don’t worry, Faith. I brought toilet paper. I’ll get you some,” said Sam.

Equipped to trudge through the forest to find a suitable spot to relieve herself, Faith heard the boys howling from afar and giggled. She found a log large enough to provide her some cover even though the night was black as pitch and the tops of the trees filtered out most of the moonlight. She could still see the fire flickering in the distance and headed toward it after she finished her business.

Twigs snapped underfoot as she ducked under low-hanging branches, intent on cutting straight through despite many obstacles. But before she reached even ground, a black figure stepped out from behind a thick walnut tree. It was the singer whose name she still couldn’t recall.

“Lost?” He asked.

“Nope,” Faith giggled, feeling the effects of both the weed and alcohol mixing in her bloodstream. “The campsite is right over there.”

“Right over where? I think you’re lost,” he said, taking a step forward.

Faith’s breath hitched in her throat. She tried to peer past him to spot Faust, but he cut off her line of sight. 

“Don’t worry about ol’ frosty Fausty. He’s busy talking to his ex-girlfriend. I’ll help you find your way out.”

She took a step back, and he matched it with a pace forward. Soon there was hardly a gap between their chests.

“I see the way you stare. You want me,” the singer claimed.

“Um, I think you’re mistaken. I’m with Faust.”

The man laughed, then took a drag of a cigarette Faith hadn’t noticed burning away between his fingers. He flicked the butt away and touched her shoulder. She snapped back, her heart plummeting from the unwanted contact.

“Can you not? I promise whatever you think you’ve read, it’s wrong. Faust is my boyfriend.”

“Man, for someone who dresses like a prissy smart-ass, you sure don’t know how things work. And you’re dumb to think Faust will settle any time soon. Trust me, I’ve known him since grade school. There’s no chick in this world good enough to hold him down. Least not for long. He’ll tire of you just like he did with Anika, and you’ll become another band-whore. Sticking around the guys to try your hand at being picked. I’ve seen it happen, and you don’t want that.”

Faith didn’t have much of a temper, but what underlying rage she harboured stoked beneath the scorching air of his words. It brought to light all the reasons she thought up to explain why Faust had yet to have sex with her. Perhaps what the singer claimed held truth. Maybe Faust was using her to gain shock points from his circle of friends. 

“Me, on the other hand... I’d treat you right. You’re too pretty for him, anyway. What’s a girl like you even doing sniffing at his heels? You’re not exactly his type.”

“I guess that means I’m not your type either,” Faith bit back.

“You’re most definitely my type. And I think you know it.”

“I’d like to go back now,” she whispered.

“Come on. Just think about what you’re doing. Faust will rip your precious heart out. You’ve no idea how many of his rejects I’ve had to comfort after be humps them and dumps them. What makes you think you’re any better in his eyes?”

“Faust loves me.”

“Oh, yeah? Has he told you that?”

“No, but... He doesn’t have to. I know he does. Otherwise he wouldn’t have—“

“Invited you here?” The figure chuckled. “Yeah. Right. This is where we bring all the band-sluts. Best not to think yourself wife material. You’ll only be disappointed.”

“Why are you doing this? Aren’t you his friend?” Faith asked.

“Yeah, sure we’re friends. Best friends. Which is why you should take my advice before you end up hurt—“

Something knocked the words from his mouth in a flash. One second he was upright, and the next he was on the ground, groaning from impact. Faust stood in the darkness, arms hovering at his sides to prepare for what he’d do next. Faith hadn’t realized she let out a yelp until voices from back at the campsite started calling out their names. Faust stooped, grabbed hold of the singer’s ankles, and dragged him a few steps.

“Get the fuck off me! What are you doing? Get off!”

Faith looked on with utter panic as Faust hauled him through the brush toward the campsite. She followed. The others gathered at the edge of the treeline until they noticed Faust’s hulking form and took steps back to clear his path. The drummer raked his hand through the singer’s hair, lifted him by the belt and tossed the man toward the fire. Before he could scramble to his feet, Faust was at his throat, fingers tangled in his hair again to force his face close to the roaring fire. The rest of the group looked on in horror as the singer’s moustache and eyebrows singed. Inches away from the licking flames, he let out a howl that nobody but they reeled from.

“If I ever catch you talking to my woman that way again, I’ll find you. I’ll find you and nail you to a fucking crucifix, douse you in gas and set you on fire.”

“Faust!” Ola snapped from his shocked state and lunged for the drummer before he caused permanent damage.

It took both Ola and Mordy to wrestle Faust off the other member, and when they did, Faust spit on him as the girls huddled together. Anika curled a protective arm around Faith’s shoulder as Sam stepped in front of her. Both girls wailed for them to stop, but their cries went unanswered.

“You hear me, motherfucker? Go near her again and I’ll murder you with my bare hands. You know I will!” Faust screamed.

“Fuck! My face! You burned me, you sick fuck!”

“Next time, I’ll slaughter you!”

“Faust! Faust, stop! Stop with the death-threats, okay? Enough! We came out here to have a good time!”

Faust shrugged his friends off, but they kept proximity in case the drummer took a swing. When they were sure Faust made his point, they let him go to Faith, who rushed into his arms and buried her face under the flap of his leather jacket. 

“Are you okay, Sven?” Mordy asked the singer as he stumbled to his feet.

In the firelight, the group stared at Sven, shorn of all his facial hair, brows and eyelashes included. The wind swept the stench of burnt hair away as he swiped his hands over his face, coming away with oily smears of his singed moustache on his fingers.

“Does it fucking look like I’m okay, Mordy? This fucking psychopath almost killed me! That’s it... We’re kicking him out of the band. I’ve had enough of his shit!”

Ola and Mordy exchanged strained looks, then turned back to Sven, both laboured with regretful grimaces.

“It’s not your band, Sven,” Ola mumbled.

“So what? Didn’t you just see what he did to me?”

“What happened back there?” Asked Anika.

“We were just talking!” Sven yelled. “I was just talking to her before this crazy fuck sucker punched me!”

“I heard what you said. And I should have known you’d try to pull a fucking move on her because that’s what you do. You try to fuck everyone’s girlfriend because you can’t find your own. It’s gonna earn you a tombstone, asshole!”

“Faust, come on. I think he’s learned his lesson,” Ola tried again to diffuse the tension.

“If anyone’s out of the band, it’s you. You won’t play in this town ever again.”

Faith tightened her arms around Faust’s waist, and the move worked to ground him. He realized then how scared she was, wheeled her about and guided her away.

They left the group, not stopping until they descended a slope and came to a small river. Faust took out his cigarettes, lit one, and exhaled more than just smoke. Faith watched, stiff and unable to give voice to her racing thoughts. All she could do was cling to him until he was ready to address the situation.

“Sorry,” said Faust.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“For scaring the shit out of you.”

“It wasn’t you who scared me.”

“I know, but still. Fuck, maybe I should have handled that a bit better.”

Faith noticed her hands shaking as Faust kicked rocks into the water, hauling on his cigarette until he burned filter. If she was honest with herself, Faust’s reaction had frightened her, but showed her all she needed to see.

“I... I love you,” came her wavering reply.

Faust looked up as though she’d let out a scream, eyes wide and lips pressed together. She shook her head, immediately regretting what she said until he went to her and pressed her to his chest again. He kissed the top of her head.

“I know you do. And I feel the same way, I think. But you have to let me do this at my own pace. All right? I don’t want to fuck this one up.”

A tear rolled down from her eye, but Faith smiled. Oh, how she smiled, clinging to him in the blackness, the trill of the stream drowning out the arguing back at the campsite. His heart thumped against her cheek. The beat erased all Faith’s fears of him growing bored with her. She would wait for him as long as he needed. 

[writer-and-artist27]

An Unbent Person

Note: Even though I haven’t finished the movie Remaining Sense of Pain from Kara no Kyoukai as a result of my being triggered by the intro, Asagami Fujino has been lingering in my head lately. And since it’s your birthday, @withanina / Aqui, I wanted to revisit her in a way that both honors you as one of my best friends and that helps me process the complex character that Fujinon is.

I just hope I did Fujinon justice with this oneshot. I’m still trying to figure her out, even when she’s one of my best Archers in my Chaldea and I’ve been in a writing slump to the point of defaulting to S&S verse to try to get back something. But we’re still here and I’m rambling, so enough of that. I’ll just insert this song as a theme since Yuki Kaijura also composed Credens Justitiam for Madoka Magica after working with Type: MOON, and let’s go. The lyrics used for the song are taken from lyricstranslate.com. This story canonically takes place, I think, after the aforementioned Remaining Sense of Pain (possibly around Extra Chorus) and S&S 24, before Kannabi.

Happy Birthday, Aqui. Thank you for sticking with all my stories. I hope we’ll keep being friends for years to come.

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

Growing up in Nagareboshi Café meant getting used to what other civilians would call “abnormal behaviors.” Or, maybe the better phrase was simply “not minding things out of the ordinary.” Whether it was the shinobi coming into the café with nothing but a few flicked fingers in my direction to ask for an order or the occasional call for a song by a tired voice from the bar area, I learned very quickly to take things as they were. After all, it was still the Narutoverse — a place where child soldiers were considered “common” of all things. Papa had lived in that very same scenario for years, and now my best friends were growing up in it.

It felt like death was inevitable, no matter where you were in this world, because it was made a “norm.” Ugh.

Thus, the least I could do was not judge and instead be as welcoming as possible. It was all I could do just to provide some levity in a world that couldn’t offer any.

It was with this mindset that I met her.

She could’ve blended into the crowd with her unassuming black and red spider lily-patterned kimono and long purple hair, but once she was gently walking past Mama’s figure in the front of the café and carefully making her way to a table in the corner of the building with her cane, I did my best to not stare. It wasn’t every day that someone came in with a cane in hand, and once she started gently tapping the cane against every object she came across while walking, it automatically clued me in that it was not my business to ask.

Someone with an apparent disability didn’t need extra attention drawn to them unless they needed it for a helping hand. Internally, I was very grateful, though, to see how some clientele and our own café servers stepped out of the way to let the lady slowly maneuver through the crowd with her cane, a few people even quietly moving their chairs out of the way to give her a clear path. It was such a stark contrast to how Vy’s old family at times gave one of my aunts far too much space, simply because of how emotionally stubborn and physically weak she was for reasons I never did understand even after being reborn. Family issues were family issues.

But for a second, my thoughts wandered to how things would have happened for the lady to come in the way she did. Anyone, of course, could use a cane. Everyone had their own reasons. But the cloudiness in her eyes — it said something about her cane usage. Aside from looking straight up at the sun for that direct UV light exposure, possibly impaired vision wasn’t something that just happened unless we were getting into the possibility of genetics, lifestyle choices, and/or eye strain and how eyes related to anime powers. The Sharingan was a notable example of the latter, where Canon Sauce went blind thanks to overusing his Mangekyo after fighting Danzo, and I did not want to think about Obi possibly dealing with the same consequences once his Sharingan activated.

Wait. No no no. I shook my head vigorously, clamping down on the urge to slap my cheeks as punishment. It wasn’t my place to speculate what happened to Nagareboshi Café’s newest customer, even if she was pretty and the empathy in me was screaming to help her. The right thing to do is give distance and let her come to me if she wants to, I mentally knocked my head against a library wall, much to Hisako’s raised eyebrow. Remember that, me.

How about a song to break the ice, then? Hisako suggested, eerily quiet with her arms crossed over her chest. Tomoe Mami’s theme? To stop the library knocking.

Oops. I glanced at the black and white keys underneath my fingertips and nodded to myself. You know, why not?

My Nobody beamed with pride. Much better!

I couldn’t help but agree. There was something about seeing that lady with her walking cane and cloudy red eyes sitting by herself at a table that reminded me of a yellow magical girl. A single yellow-themed, gun-wielding magical girl who went about fighting alone just to ensure some kind of future for herself. It was honestly sad to think about because her wish was “to live” and that was where it had landed her.

But the concept of “loneliness” was not one I could entertain forever. I knew I didn’t want to when I couldn’t unsee the white myself.

Thus, humming the first few lyrics to myself was a good distraction while it lasted. Plus it was a good starter for tapping my foot to get the rhythm before letting my hands play out the rest. The piano crooned softly with my thoughts, echoing the chords I wanted, and for once,  I didn’t mind feeling my chakra start to float from the interaction. It felt like I didn’t have to hold my chakra back. This time, I let the music take me away in the hopes of letting my chakra play out as it should’ve been. Free, empathetic, and open.

The Sage of Six Paths might’ve been happy with the performance. I wanted to think that, at least, when playing the piano at that moment.

Solti ola i Amaliche cantia masa Estia…

E sonti tolda i Emalita cantia mia Distia…

A litia dista Somelite esta dia A ditto i della Filioche mio Solti tola Solti ola i Amaliche cantia masa estia E sonti tolda i Emalita cantia mia distia…

Alita della Maliche sonta dia Mia sonta della I testa mia Testi ola Solti ola…

Solti ola i Amaliche cantia mia Dia, dia...

By the time the last few keys faded into the air, I knew without opening my eyes that someone was sitting next to me on the piano bench. Miyako-bachan’s teachings were close to becoming second-hand nature to a point, but it didn’t stop me from squeaking a little when glancing over to find the very same lady I was thinking of at my right side.

Maybe I was too invested in remembering the first Heroine of Justice…

Even up close, it was obvious my newest visitor had gone through a lot at her age, with the little creases on her cheeks and the occasional white line of scarring crossing along what skin her kimono showed past the collar. Once she wrapped her red shawl tighter around her shoulders, hiding the scars with one hand while clutching the handle of her cane with the other, she slowly blinked in the vague direction of the piano. It took a moment before she went about turning her head towards me. Her gaze was unfocused, but still pointed my way. “Hello,” she said very quietly, her long purple hair brushing her shoulders with the greeting. “Are you the one who played the song just now?”

“Y-Yes,” I replied gently, nodding my head. “I am Hoshino Tomoko, your pianist for the day. Welcome to Nagareboshi Café, um…”

“Asagami,” the lady said, bowing her head in return. Her red eyes blinked again, as if focusing past the clouds in the irises, before she added, “Asagami Fujino,” with a small smile. “It was a beautiful song, Hoshino-san.”

“Thank you, Asagami-san,” I said respectfully in return. “Is there another song you would like me to play for you while you’re here?”

To my surprise, Asagami-san shook her head, her long purple hair swishing against her clothes enough to reflect the café lighting. It took an extra moment for me to realize she was wearing a black ribbon in her hair. “Not a song,” she said, voice all the more quiet in spite of her closeness. “I wanted to ask you something.” She blinked for a moment, her eyes narrowing in my direction in that small interval of time before widening minutely. “What were you thinking of when playing it? It was…” Asagami-san trailed off, turning her head back to looking at her lap as she gripped her cane. “It felt different. I never heard such a song like yours before.”

Oh. Uh. Just in case, I turned to the other person in the room. Hisako?

It didn’t even take a second for my Nobody to answer. Reliable as always. Yes, dear?

Chakra or no chakra explanation?

Hm. Hisako thoughtfully pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Keep it simple. No chakra. Best to not add any confusing elements.

Alrighty. Simple and no chakra it is.

To Asagami-san, I admitted honestly, “I was actually thinking of you.”

Asagami-san raised her head in my direction so quickly, I would’ve thought she’d have given herself whiplash with how her neck turned. Her red eyes were still cloudy-looking, but they seemed to be shining with a newfound light of some sorts now. It felt like she was shocked. “Eh?” With that said, Asagami-san then lowered her head, no longer gazing in my direction but still exuding that same aura of surprise. “…Me?”

“Yes,” I continued, in spite of the growing blush no thanks to anxiety and embarrassment. “I-It looked like today is your first day here, so I just wanted to play something that made you feel welcomed—”

“No one has ever done that for me before,” Asagami-san interrupted, her voice one octave louder than before. Her knuckles were turning white against her already pale skin as she gripped her cane. “Not after…” She inhaled one long deep breath. “It was not painful.”

I took a deep breath too. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” I said softly.

Asagami-san gave me a small smile past the shoulder of her red shawl. “You seem to be a kind person, Hoshino-san.”

“I try to be, every day,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice from wobbling. This conversation was definitely starting to hit something heavy, and for once, it felt like I was doing something right and stepping into territory I couldn’t exactly parse out on my own. After all, it wasn’t every day a grown woman was relying on a teenager of all people. But the situation was happening, and there was no stopping it. “It’s what I was taught to do, and I want to keep doing it.” For the people I care for, for the people I lost, for myself, was left unsaid. “Everyone deserves a chance to feel safe and be themselves. I just help make the space for that, without pain and with as much kindness I can muster.”

Asagami-san said nothing for a while after that, merely tapping her cane against the pedals of the piano for a small moment. I did my best not to wince when one such tap happened on my foot, but by then, it seemed like Asagami-san was in her own thoughts. My bit of pain didn’t matter. Right now, something was up.

Did I say something wrong?

“…You can see,” Asagami-san said finally, her voice a bare wisp in the air, “life even without pain?”

As expected from a moment of silence — it sounded and felt like a loaded question. Still, I lifted my hands from the piano keys to place them into my lap, taking a breath to formulate my answer. There was no way I could leave this standing. “Maybe. Maybe not. I just know that life is full of many things, Asagami-san. Pain can be a part of it, but that’s not all there is to it. There’s the trees outside, the bright blue sky, the warm air, the food in the café, and the people that live here.” With the warmest smile I could make, I turned to her, even if a part of me could guess she wouldn’t fully see it. “It’s because of what happens in this life that I got to meet you, right?”

Asagami-san looked up in my direction again. Her red eyes were wider than before, letting in enough light to expose my reflection in the cloudy irises before the first visages of tears dotted the edges. “You…” her bottom lip quivered. “How can you say that, Hoshino-san? I-I…” Asagami-san shook her head vigorously, enough to jostle the black ribbon in her hair, making it crooked. “I’m not—”

Maybe I shouldn’t have shared. Maybe I was going too far, considering we were in the middle of the café and the privacy seals weren’t turned on and I needed to turn them on. But the words were leaving my lips before I could stop them, interrupting whatever thought Asagami-san was about to voice. “You’re fine, Asagami-san. I just wanted to play the song for you because I’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want anyone else to feel the same way when there’s so much more in the world to discover and enjoy.”

Asagami-san’s shoulders shook against her shawl, causing the red cloth to fall back and expose the barely hidden scars against the black collar of her kimono. “…I thought I couldn’t feel anything outside of pain. Not after Keita-san a-and Shiki-san.” Keita-san? Shiki-san? “But you—”

“I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you,” I said honestly, raising my hand for a moment before lowering it. Even if I was tempted to pat her back as a form of sympathy, from the way Asagami-san was hunching into herself, it wasn’t the best time to intrude on her personal space bubble. I made this bed, and I was going to lie in it even if I wasn’t sure of what was going on. “I put a lot in what I do. But I meant everything I said. And what I felt when I played the piano.”

It was at that very moment I saw a small droplet hit the edge of Asagami-san’s kimono sleeve. Oh. Oh dear. “Wh-why…” there was a dainty sniffle, “why didn’t I meet you sooner? If I knew you before, then—”

Screw it.

I reached over to gently rest my palm against the hand Asagami-san was using to grip her cane. “But you’re here, Asagami-san,” I said, feeling my smile wobble all the more at seeing more droplets fall onto Asagami-san’s kimono, creating dark wet circles in the black cloth. “You’re still here now. And I’m glad that you are.”

Asagami-san shuddered, her shawl barely covering her back with the gesture tilting her center of balance. “I-I feel like crying. It hurts. I-It all hurts. C-Can I… Can I cry?” For a grown woman, I was not expecting the childlike tone of wonder in her voice. “Hoshino-san, can I cry?”

My heart hurt. Something must’ve happened for her to react so much. Even then, I still curled my fingers so that they could brush against Asagami-san’s hand and hopefully relax her grip on her cane. Physical comfort was the least I could give after unearthing something so heavy. “Of course you can. That’s a part of what makes you human, Asagami-san. Crying is a part of what helps all of us be alive.”

The first sob I heard from her then sounded more like a relieved laugh than a cry for help. Even then, Asagami-san shrunk into her seat at the piano bench, purple hair shrouding her face all the while. I simply kept my palm against her knuckles, controlling my own breathing to not cry myself from the shared emotion.

“M-May I—” Asagami-san choked around another sob as her hand relaxed minutely under my grip, “May I come here again, Hoshino-san?”

“Yes,” I said faintly. “Of course. I wouldn’t say ‘no,’ Asagami-san. Feel free to visit Nagareboshi Café whenever you’d like. I’ll be here.”

It felt like a promise I couldn’t turn my back on. I wouldn’t.

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

Long after Asagami-san left from the café closing for the day, I found myself letting go of the breath I was holding. Then a hand gently fell onto my hair.

“You okay, hime?” Papa whispered, patting my head for a moment before pulling me in for a side-hug. “Need anything?”

My lip quivered before I let go of my current inhibitions and wrapped my arms around his waist, converting the side-hug into a full-on hug. The fact that I was getting a faceful of his waist apron didn’t matter. Nor did the smell of what reminded me of day-old soda. No matter what, it was still Papa, and work was done. I could be selfish around him and it was okay. “M-More hugs, please, Papa.”

Papa laughed softly before resting a hand against my back and patting there too. “Alright. You did well, hime.”

“I-I followed your example, daddy,” I whispered back, finding my voice going back to Vy’s for just that moment. “Help others when you have the ability to.”

“And that, hime,” Papa replied wistfully and proudly, “is what makes your heart a good one. Just let me and Mama help you next time. You can’t do everything alone and we’re still here. We’ll play a full concert together when Asagami-san comes back.”

“Aye. Th-That’ll be nice.” If it meant one more wounded person could smile, that was enough for me. I didn’t have to shoulder everything. And one concert could possibly make one more day won from the dirty clutches of war. I’d just have to settle for that.

Maybe next time, Asagami-san could smile without tears in her eyes.

[roamwithahungryheart]

Ted Lasso is quite frankly a masterclass in making the little details count. The clothing choices each season have always been intentional, whether in terms of cementing characterization or subtly hinting at the relationships between characters. This season goes all in right from the very beginning. It was noticeable in the trailer alone, but the costume choices in 3x03 have a lot more to say, because this season does too.

Here's a breakdown of some of the most significant fashion choices in 3x03:

Colin

Colin consistently wears blue in this episode. Blue of course being associated with sadness, this perhaps relates to Colin's sadness at having to remain closeted to fit in at AFC Richmond.

He turns up to the group dinner at Ola's in a denim shirt. Denim can be dressed up or down - 'Colin is a chameleon' - and he wants to appear casual and at ease with the rest of the team. However, the shirt isn't chambray which is more breathable, it's pure denim - stiff, stifling fabric that symbolizes his internal discomfort. Add to this the fact that his partner shows up in a suit? Colin's formally introducing the team to his partner, even though they don't know it yet.

Ted & Rebecca

It goes without saying that the amount of biscuit box pink we're seeing on Rebecca this season is truly spectacular. The pink coat and cream scarf, the black and pink coat & gold rectangular earrings? Rebecca's desk isn't the only thing full of biscuit crumbs!

Ted & Rebecca wear matching shades of burgundy at Ola's- considering that the episode ended with multiple shots that acted like fleeting glances across the room, focusing on couples both past and present, this is an interesting choice. It's not the first time Ted & Rebecca have color-matched, but in this context - past, present and future - it's indicative of Ted & Rebecca's continued partnership.

In terms of color psychology, burgundy signifies power, sophistication and ambition - are we being braced for AFC Richmond's new Power Couple?

Keeley & Zava

Keeley & Zava are both wearing Versace when they first meet. Judging by the way he lingers on her hand and calls her his queen (shouldn't that be your wife, sir?) there could be more trouble ahead. However, Keeley's heart necklace and lock earrings are a symbol of her heart being open, but it's under lock and key, because there's only one man who deserves to hold that key - Roy.

Zava's Versace necklace. The La Greca motif symbolizes infinity and unity, and the first thing he does with the team is lead them in a breathing meditation to become one with each other.

Tish

Tish's zebra skirt. The zebra symbolizes duality, determination, empowerment, community and communication. Communication is a common theme in spirituality. If we take into account the interwoven elements of magic and misdirection, the zebra pattern alone signifies Illusion. Seeing things in black and white. Instinct and intuition. Family - the herd. 'You're going to be a mother'.

Allow me to channel Sir David Attenborough for a moment.

Remember Rebecca's speech to Ted about fighting back? And the lion or panda debate in season 1?

Rebecca isn't a lion anymore. She's a zebra.

When a zebra is attacked by a lion, it fights back by hitting the lion on the jaw. This kick is so strong that the lion won’t be able to feed.

However, nine times out of ten, the lion wins the fight, because most of the time, lions attack in groups to take down large prey. They ambush and use their power and aggression to bring their target down.

Rupert is the hunter, Rebecca is the prey. Stealth is key for prey, as it offers them the best chance of out-manoeuvring the predator. Ted is fighting back subtly. He's outwitting the enemy. However Richmond chooses to attack West Ham, it's almost certain Rupert won't see it coming.

[olaotter]

Why Organic Night Suits for Baby Are Best In Summers? – Ola! Otter 

Welcoming your baby into the world is overwhelming. You become especially attentive and sensitive to babies’ needs. You pay close attention to what they eat and wear due to their delicate and sensitive skin. With summer fast approaching, it's essential to consider the materials used in your baby's nightwear to ensure they stay cool, comfortable, and safe. Babies are more prone to irritation and rashes, making night suit for babies made from organic fabrics the preferred option. 

Let’s understand why organic night suit for babies are important in summers: 

Reduced Exposure to Harmful Chemicals: 

Opting for organic night suit for babies helps minimize a baby's exposure to potentially harmful chemicals commonly present in non-organic clothing, which can have detrimental effects on the environment, wildlife, and local communities. Infants absorb more from their surroundings than adults, partly through their more permeable skin. Therefore, sleep suits for babies crafted from organic fabrics present the safest alternative. 

Breathable and Comfort: 

Summer nights can be sweltering, and it's essential for babies to stay cool and comfortable while they sleep. Organic cotton and bamboo night suits for babies are naturally breathable, helping to regulate body temperature and prevent overheating. This ensures that our babies stay cozy and relaxed throughout the night, allowing them to wake up refreshed. 

Non-Toxic Dyes: 

Sleep suits for babies are commonly coloured using natural, non-toxic dyes sourced from plants or minerals. These dyes not only ensure the safety of babies but also contribute to environmental preservation. In contrast, conventional synthetic dyes, which may harbour harmful chemicals, pose risks to both infants and the ecosystem. Opting for organic night suits for babies in summers ensures a safer and more sustainable choice for your little one and the planet. 

Environmental Sustainability: 

By eschewing synthetic pesticides and fertilizers, organic agriculture minimizes chemical pollution, safeguarding the health of ecosystems and wildlife. Moreover, organic farmers prioritize water conservation, implementing efficient irrigation techniques that reduce water usage and alleviate strain on local water sources. Opting for organic Sleepsuits for babies during summers not only ensures their comfort but also aligns with eco-friendly principles, supporting a greener, more sustainable future for generations to come. 

To read full blog Visit night suit for babies 

[phoenixexho]

Ex-wives by Google Translate

It's already open

  E head

  Dead

  It's already open

  E head

  Still alive

  Tonight we have ...

  Aura!

  Listen to me telling a story.

  What do you think, have you ever heard?

  We are full of confidence in our names, fame and eyes.

  Exercise nice and a pity,

  I lost my job the whole time.

  I sang a word in a simple song.

  So I took a pencil and a mushroom,

  The story is dismantled (rules).

  It's already open

  E head

  Dead

  It's already open

  E head

  Still alive

  But for you tonight,

  We have already opened, yes, alive!

  Thank you for this show, on the website,

  By changing the stream when adding a prefix

  We all know that we have women,

  Build the house on the roof wall,

  We will be ready to confirm, to inform us

  We all know that we have women,

  But now

  Finally.

  From all the content you've heard and read,

  The company lost value and value,

  However, the royal clothing has not doubled.

  Imagine by love what we are,

  Today we do our best for ourselves.

  "To bring you to trial,

  All trees in Tudor are thorns.

  If you hear about your life,

  At the meeting.

  It's already open

  E head

  Dead

  It's already open

  E head

  Still alive

  But for you tonight,

  We have already opened, yes, alive!

  Thank you for this show, on the website,

  By changing the stream when adding a prefix

  We all know that we have women,

  Dance until dawn, one

  We are forced to restart the Renaissance,

  We all know that we have women,

  But now

  Finally.

  (Statement)

  Catherine is my name Aragon,

  I have been married for twenty-four years.

  King, my faithfulness to the Vatican,

  So, if you try to free me,

  Do not try again.

  (kill)

  I am Boleyn's daughter who teaches me in the future.

  I saw the separation of England from the chapel.

  I am sexy

  Why am I losing my mind?

  My hands may be soft in my lungs, but I am lipstick.

  (DO)

  Jane Seymour is the one who really loves her.

  (Rage)

  When my son was born, I was dying.

  But I'm not my hero,

  You need to connect to a new one (Simo).

  (Statement)

  These are Annes cliffs,

  Jingao.

  When I describe my picture,

  Electronics!

  But when I reached the peak, my performance was not good.

  We think we should discuss something, but Henry does not ...

  Touch your ear Catherine I lost her head

  (kill)

  Because of my fornication outside of marriage,

  Open your husband,

  Look at your boys,

  Howard Howard began to sing.

  (OLA)

  My ex-wife is five years old.

  I strengthened him to the end of my life.

  I am the life of Catherine Parr.

  I want you

  What I am saying is that I want to pay attention to the content of this product.

  I want to know what we are doing now,

  Thank you for this show on the website

  By changing the stream when adding a prefix

  We all know that we have women,

  Let your hand make this choice

  Good Queen wants a half biscuit,

  We all know that we have women,

  But now

  Finally.

[artisticestheticreads]

The Heat of Trinidad (1)

 A/N: IT’S M’BAKU SATURDAY!!!!!! This is the official first chapter of my very first M’Baku series. In this chapter, the leaders of Wakanda are sent to various locations to help make the world a better place. M’Baku is sent to a place way different from home but sees a vision for sore eyes. I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

WARNING: none..yet

SONG RECOMMENDATION: Ola by Olatunji 

  It was a breezy, sunny day in Wakanda and in the Royal Palace, all the council members were in attendance. The Dora Milage stood in a neat, precise along with the Jabari Tribe. King T’Challa was on his throne with his ambassador and Prince of Wakanda, N’Jadaka, to his left and the Great Lord himself, M’Baku, to his right. M’Baku had no choice but to wear clothing supplied to him by the Wakandian seamstresses, to respect the elders. He sat there in a chocolate tone sweater, matching slacks and shoes made by Shuri herself. “Now, as I have said before, we need to help supply our brothers and sisters all over the world which is why the WPS will assign an agent into each and every part of major police departments to teach those dumb idiots how to actually protect and serve...for everyone”, N’Jadaka said as he stood with a hologram in front of him as he wore an all-black attire like M’Baku but his sleeves were rolled up and accents of gold throughout the shirt and loafers.

 T’Challa nodded, still seated and said “thank you, Prince N’Jadaka. Very good work.” N’Jadaka nodded and sat as T’Challa stood. “Council, as the King of our country, I will be assigning each official here to each part of the world to talk to each president, royal figure or whoever is in charge. Then in a few months, I will be going to the UN to finalize everything.” T’Challa looked around before looking at M’Baku who seemed bored out his mind. His heavy legs swung back and forth, wide apart and his arms rested on each armrest of his wooden chair. T’Challa stood with his hands behind his back and said “Lord M’Baku, would you like to proceed with plans?” When T’Challa sat, M’Baku watched him. He took a deep breath and sat up slightly, hands folded before standing.

  “Alright then, while we are gone the Queen Mother will be in charge until T’Challa is back. My tribe will stay behind to protect while the Dora Milage except for Oya will be with each one of us. Of course, the warriors will be back after flying us out. We have been randomly assigned to a different party in the world. According to Brother T’Challa, we will be there for a few months as we watch our assigned areas. He thinks it will be better if we get to know them as much as we can and report back to him the process of our agent’s work; before and after.” He slouched back into his seat and tilted his head towards the king. “Ah, well then. Princess Shuri has randomly selected through her database of each area and paired with each of us. She had no say so. Is this correct”, T’Challa said and Shuri nodded as she stood.

 “Each of our results will be transmitted from my lab to our beads telling us where we are headed off to tomorrow afternoon. Each one of our ships will be disguised as aircraft from each place so we won’t cause any unwanted attention. No need pack because since we have all your measurements, you will have supplied you all with everything you need. We won’t know where we will be until we are on our flights”, she said before sitting. T’Challa’s arms lied beside him when he asked “any questions”. He didn’t even get to finish because M’Baku interrupted. “With all due respect, why on Earth do we all need to go?” T’Challa looked at N’Jadaka and the prince explained “if T’Challa, Shuri and I all went alone it would take almost eight months to go to every part of the world. We need to help our fellow brothas and sistas fast before we become extinct.”

 M’Baku said “alright but why can’t we know where we are going now and why do we have to wait until we are onboard to know where we are going? I thought your ‘technology’ is ‘perfect’ and ‘efficient.” Shuri said “well since there is so many of us, the system might take a little longer. But no worries, the system also has matched each of us where it thinks we will fit best.” The meeting went on until M’Baku stood in front of the window; T’Calla and Erik walked to his opposite sides. “Looks like you not up for helping us out, brotha”, N’Jadaka noticed. M’Baku folded his arms and said “the last time we tried to help the world, half of the world was almost dusted. We should have stayed to ourselves.” T’Challa placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and said “well, you did help in the battle, brother. You provided Queen Mother a helping hand and did what you could.”

  M’Baku still stood there in thoughts as his brothers continued to talk. M’Baku hated change, he wasn’t sure why. He just did. That very night, he sat in his dining area alone eating dinner, all alone as usual. Being so, he was comfortable doing so. Once he was done with dinner, he showered and lied in bed in the nude as the cool mountain air kissed his skin, causing him to sleep. The next morning, a knock on his door woke him up. He stood from his bed and wrapped a towel around his waist before making his way. The knocking stopped once he opened the door to see one of the Dora Milaje and a member of the WPS, N’Jabu. N’Jabu was about twenty-four years of age, 6′1 and around 230 lbs. “Morning, Lord M’Baku. The Royal Family has given us your clothing for departure” the young man said handing him a wooden box. “We leave in an hour. We will be on the aircraft waiting.”

 With that, they left M’Baku to get dressed. Once he was back by his bed, he opened the box; it made him raise his brow, unamused. Meanwhile, T’Challa was in an all-black suit with a grey tie and black dress shoes outside the rides. Shuri was in orange camouflage pants with a black tank, jean jacket and skater shoes on his left. N’Jadaka wore a navy blue hoodie, jeans and Adidas Superstars with his dreads braided and grill in. M’Baku walked out and Shuri turned to greet him. “Good morning, Great Gorilla Brother.” T’Challa turned along with N’Jadaka who put his shades on. “Goddamn, that shirt is bright as hell, bruh.” Shuri laughed as she raised her beads up recording everything. “Peter and MJ have to see this.” M’Baku was in a bright red wife-beater with a pair of black swim trunks on and sandals.; his face serious and aggravated.

  “I do not find this funny. Not. At. All”, he walked towards them and looked down at Shuri, who still recorded. “Where in colonizer hell are we all going? I need to know why I am dressed like this.” N’Jadaka said “well, my results came in last night. I’m going to LA, again” with his hands in pockets. “Yeah, mine came in too. I will be in New York City with Nyla. She’s already there so yeah. And I might even get to hang with Peter and the crew as well”, Shuri said. “And, I and Okoye will be in Washington”, said T’Challa as Okoye stood behind in an all-black suit like the Secret Service. “Well, mine has not come in at all and I am highly disturbed.” Shuri rolled her eyes before signaling before going to her flight. M’Baku looked around at all the officials who bored and saw all the ridiculous clothing. 

Soon everyone boarded and buckled in. N’Jabu wore something similar to him and Laya wore a pilot uniform. M’Baku rubbed his temples as he sat still waiting for his results. “Lord M’Baku. Please prepare for take-off”, Laya said over the intercom and they were off. M’Baku sat back in his seat trying to look over at the window but found it difficult since he sat in the middle of the ship. N’Jabu sat in the corner reading in M’Baku’s eyes sight on the right. “What are you reading over there, young man”, he asked and his agent looked up. “Our manual for assisting the officiants, Lord M’Baku. Agent Nyla Miller wants to make sure we do our job correctly, sir.” M’Baku nodded and said “carry on” before he leaned on his right hand.

  Once he started to fall in a deep slumber, he heard his beads beep a few times. The lights flashed and generated as the ship changed to a plane aircraft and M’baku stood up, still watching and moving to the window seat available. Finally, the words were readable and his eyes squinted until he looked outside.”Trinidad and Tobago”, he said to himself. He looked to the view below and saw how clear it looked. The water was an ombre of teal, blue and aqua. The trees stood tall and so green he couldn't believe it. The plane landed on a private landing strip of the Piarco International Airport. Once they were safely down, the pilot announced “we have landed in bright and sunny Trinidad and Tobago. Good luck on your months here, Lord M’Baku and N’Jabu”; M’Baku did not want to leave that plane. 

  When N’Jabu and M’Baku left the plane, a short, older woman with a light complexion stood with a group of men, both secret service and to help with luggage. She wore a navy print skirt suit and her braids up and away from her face. “Hello, gentleman. I am Paula-Mae Weekes, the president of the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago. Welcome to our country, Lord M’Baku, and Agent N’Jabu.” She held out her hand to be shaken and they took it. “Lord M’ Baku, you and the Agent you have brought will be staying at one of the best-gated communities you have to offer. You both will have separate housing to yourselves for your stay.”

“Thank you, President Weekes. It is a pleasure to be sent here instead of the US and having to meet their ‘president’.” She softly smiled and said “yes. I bet it is. Now, let us drop you off so you can get used to the country and all we have to offer.” The men began to pack their things in the car and as the President gave them a tour, M’Baku all the murals around town. “I see you like art. Every mural is done by one of this country’s best artists, Rae, and the youth’s art group. You may see them around from time to time.”

“Rae, I like that. Strong name. Very good. Very good.”

  They soon arrived to see a one-story yellow home with white roofing a nice cut green grass. There were shrubs around with a garden of yellow dandelions next to the entrance. M’Baku looked around to see everything so bright and lively; he saw the change and despised it but kept a poker face. “Okay, the front home will be for the Lord and the back home is all yours, N’Jabu.” N’Jabu bowed his head to the president and they thanked her before she left. M’Baku walked into his new for the next few months and saw the dark-toned kitchen that was completely different from the outside. The tile was an onyx marble against the oak hardwood island and countertop.  He checked the cupboards to see red and white dishes already washed and stacked.

  The drawers below had plenty of silverware for a family of five and tools for baking and cooking all alike. He walked around to find the study, very calming and nature-filled with ferns in every corner of the room. The bathroom had an earthy tone as well with wasabi shade on the walls and accents of brown and gold essentials around. When he went into the bathroom where all his luggage was, he walked into see a cream wall color surrounding him but what caught his eyes was the bed. It was a tall canopy with sheer, cream drapes around it. The bed itself looked like it can hold three of him and he gave a side smirk. 

   His kimono beads lit golden shade which indicated that N’Jadaka was calling. “Hello, brother N’Jadaka. How is Los Angeles so far”, he asked settling in the plush sheets. “Ah, man. Just like what I remember. So, I see ya made it. Where did they send you?”

“Trinidad and Tobago.”

“Ah, man. That’s way different than the mountains, big man. Ya think you can handle it?” M’Baku stood at the back window looking out to see the big tall trees and a pool in the pavement. “I can manage”, he responded with a smirk. He decided to sleep the entire day and get to know Trinidad better the next. He showered after his call with the Prince and lied in the nude, falling asleep like he usually did.

  The next morning, his eyes open to the curtains blowing inwards. The air was humid yet relaxed him. He slowly stood, every muscle at attention and stretched his limbs. Making his way to the bathroom, the Lord looked into his closet to see a buttondown shirt with various colors and beige shorts. He rolled his eyes but decided to just get it over with. After his morning routine, he dressed up and realized that the shirt looked like too much; he unbuttoned it to show off his body. He looked into the mirror to see the outfit and was impressed, didn’t look too bad but who was he kidding. He is M’Baku, he makes everything look good. 

   He slipped on the shoes Shuri gifted him to match any outfit by simply scanning the garment and matching it; the pair changed to a red tone. He looked over to the vanity and saw a wooden box. The note was in Xhosa but he read it in English. “Can’t have you lookin’ like anyone else. Thank me later. -The Prince of all Princes.” He rolled his eyes as he opened the box and saw a gold, thin chain with an ankh dangling from it. His eyebrow rose and he held it in his hand. He placed the jewelry on saw that it actually made his copper skin shimmer and pop.

   He decided to walk into town where President Weekes gave them a tour. He walked amongst the many of people. Whether they were short or tall, plump or skinny, light or dark, the all looked they belonged on the island. He walked over to a mural of Mother Nature with an afro and tending to animals. He had to admit it was an impressive piece of art. Once he looked around the corner, he saw a group of children in baggy clothing, covered in paint walking somewhere. He went back to looking at Mother Nature when he heard the most beautiful voice ever. Her voice was so soft and her accent was so soothing. “Okay, children. I loved all the colors each one of ye has chosen’. What do ya tink we should call it, eh?” All the little hands went up and she looked to see who to chose. She saw a lighter complexion child and chose her. “I tink we should call it, um, ‘Aura’.” The older 5′10 woman looked to the painting and said “Aura? Mandy, that is beautiful.”

“Mine was better, Miss Rae”, a little boy spoke up and she placed her hand on her wide hips. “Is dat right? And what was the name you came up with, hm, Randal?” The liitle boy shrugged and said “colors”; the group laughed and Miss Rae shook her head, smiling. “Silly boy. Maybe next time. I guess that will do for today, everyone. Go ahead to the bus and they will take ye back to the center while I clean up. See ye all tomorrow.” She waved to the class as the driver navigated them on the bus and drove off. She stood alone with her arms folded stepping away from the piece. 

  Rae wore a pair of jean overalls that had the straps down, a mustard yellow turtleneck muscle tee and her Converse were covered in paint, legs as well.  She took a tiny paintbrush from her deep pockets and dipped in the black paint before climbing the on to the ladder. M’Baku walked slowly to her, just watching. Her skin was bronze, golden like the most desired treasure known to man. Her bone structure was so precise with a slight extra chin underneath. The apple of her cheeks was so adorable and raised when she smiled slightly. With her hair pulled pack into a low bun, he can observe her features more. He walked to stand behind her, noticing the slight sag of her heavy breasts. As he stood behind her, he noticed the thickness of her thighs, the fluffiness of her bottom and the slight jiggle in her arms.

  When he looked up to see her painting, he met her dark orbs and she looked down at him. The sun above cast a halo around her head. “Can I help ye”, she asked and he stood frozen. She placed her brush behind her ear and stepped down to look at him. “Hello, sir. Are ye lost or someting?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am. I just saw you were painting and jus thought I watch you work. It is very beautiful.” She nodded and looked him up and down. “Tank you. I’m Raelyn but everyone calls me Rae”. She held out her hand to be shaken and he did so. “My name is-” She held her hand up and said “I know who ye are. Ye are Lord M’Baku of Wakanda.” He looked to her and said “how did you know that?”

“I do watch TV, Sir M’Baku. The president announced it last week.”

“So, how come people are not all over me? I’m used to people doing as such.” She looked around and said “maybe because ye look like one of us. Ye could easily just be another islander. That should be a good thing. Ye don’t unwanted attention.” He looked to her with a slight shrug. “Well, since ye want to watch do ye mind holding the ladda fuh me”, she asked as she climbed back up and he placed his arms to secure it more with his foot. “What are you doing to the painting if you don't mind me asking?”

“I’m usin’ black paint to outline what the kids did to make their colors pop more. It makes it look cleaner and more polished. I do this to every mural they create then it becomes a whole picture.” He watched as she continued and something in his gut asked why is she so beautiful? “So, Miss Rae, you work at the youth center? What is that like?” She looked down as she still painted and said “I love art. I love kids so it’s a dream to do this. Molding their minds to become bright and wise individuals.” And she loves children and art, just the perfect woman. “Your partner must be very proud.” 

“If that is ya way of asking if I am attached to someone, I am not.”

“Oh really? Why?”

   She looked back to him as she stepped down and said “ye know. For a ‘Lord’, ya ask a lot of questions” with a tilt of her head and squinted eyes. “I am a very curious person. I like to know how things work.”

“Well, curiosity killed the cat.”

“Maybe I care like any other person, Lady Rae.” She turned to clean up and retract her ladder before stepping to him. “Ya know, M’Baku. My mudda has always told me that there is a difference between caring and being nosey.” She started to walk to her black pick up truck, packing everything inside as he watched. “How can I see you, again? I mean when can I see you again?” She turned to him with a straight face and said “don’t worry. Ye will find me, only if it’s meant to be.” She walked over to her driver’s side, honked her horn once and drove off. He looked over to the painting to see she had painted a woman with her hands out to her hands out and eyes to the sky. He wondered how can she be this extraordinary then said to himself “I need to see her again.”

~

*𝒯𝒜𝒢𝒢𝐸𝒟 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸𝒮*

@muse-of-mbaku

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[vancilocs]

50/50 fuckerswoods ship of your choice and space ship of your choice?

why not go with old repressed men and then mauty/ola

How did they they meet?

Through work

Who developed romantic feelings first?

Hard to say, it was a long period of testing the waters, maybe Dagon first when he got gently flirted at or then Jame flirted bc he had romantic feelings

Who is their biggest “shipper?”

Kris at least, Aram doesn’t care, Peach is pretty indifferent, Laszlo hasn’t noticed

When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances?

Very privately when hanging out and probably after a few drinks to loosen up a little

Who confessed their feelings first?

I guess Dagon by asking Jame out

What was their first official date?

Just going out for maybe dinner or at least for a few drinks, really not different from before but this time there was an invitation for a date beforehand so it was an actual actual date

How do they feel about double dates/group dates?

Eh. Just keep it private. Not that Kris or Vadim really respect that all the time.

What do they do in their down time?

Hang around, cuddle, nap, cook, maybe go for a walk

What was the first meeting of parents as an official couple like?

Neither has met the others’ parents. Dagon hasn’t spoken to his in over half a century.

What was their first fight over and how did they get past it?

They’re mature and level-headed adults, if they have anything akin to a fight it’s because Dagon makes himself feel like shit on purpose and doesn’t want to improve. He has slowly made some changes to his diet and routine based on Jame’s suggestions so there’s really no problem there

Which one is more easily made jealous?

Don’t know if Jame has that tendency, Dagon doesn’t at least

What is their favourite thing to get to eat?

Dagon would just order pizza or other kind of takeout tbh but is open to trying homecooked veggies

Who’s the cuddly one? What their favourite cuddling position?

Both are cuddlier than you’d think, usually it’s Jame laying on Dagon with his head on his titties, but Dagon doesn’t mind laying on Jame either especially if it means getting his ears scratched

—-

Are they hand holders?

Very much so, Mauty is big on showing affection through actions

How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time? What’s the circumstances?

Both shy virgins, took a while. Just get used to being close with more or less clothing and be entirely comfortable. Ola might have discreetly asked some friends on how to do it

Who tops?

Mauty usually

What’s the worst first they’ve ever gotten into?

Probably the time Mauty’s twin sister Magni made him think Ola was going to leave him and he panicked

Who does the shopping and the cooking?

Usually it’s Ola doing the trading because he has fabrics and whatnot, brings home the bacon, likes to mingle while doing that. Mauty prefers to stay at home and also he’s mostly mute so. He likes to cook though

Which one is more organized and prone to tidiness?

Mauty keeps the home neat since he spends more time there, collects Ola’s handicrafts and cleans up after the kids

Who proposes?

It was kind of a mutual understanding that they’d be “married” and they don’t really have anything official for that (rings or anything) anyways, so they just decided to have a bit of a party to celebrate their relationship if anything. Their friends/sister were as much in on it and pushed them to have a bash too

Do they have joined Bachelor/Bachelorette parties or separate?/Who is the best man/maid of honour? Any other groomsmen or bridesmaids?

They don’t do those things, everyone in the village was part of the wedding by default

Big Ceremony or Small?

Very small. Literally just a bonfire party they have sometimes anyways, food and drink and song and dance, only party Mauty has attended and he left pretty early from there too

Do they have a honeymoon? If so, where?  

If anything then at their little home

Do they have children? How many?

Two little ones, boy and a girl

[fatokifavour12-blog]

Godsfavour Fatoki

Robert Lunday

ENGL 1301

December 12,2019

Two Year Experience, Forever Trip

A trip to Nigeria does not sound bad, right? Here is the catch; you have to leave your friends and family behind and can only communicate with your family through the phone. Feel like backing out?  This is the story of my life, March 2016. Who knew I was set to hear news that would eventually lead to me staying in Nigeria for two years? Nigeria is a place of culture, one that I did not know much about until the end of the trip. One of the perks about knowing your roots, is just having some background knowledge about where you came from. Which I was naïve too, but slowly began to appreciate.

Given that you had the opportunity to go and learn more about your culture, and where you come from. Will it be easy for you to drop your friends, pack your bags and travel off to your fatherland? Sound Bittersweet? It is not that simple, especially when you are not familiar with the environment. I was given the opportunity but had no say in the decision making. Despite the idea of the trip being bittersweet, if you knew a trip like this would change the way you think and view the world, would you still go? How about if you could not come back and visit the states during the holidays? Even tougher decision. Maybe now you can have a sense of what I endured for two years straight. Two years straight. In addition, there would be limited phone calls because of the time zone difference, and sleepless nights.

I was born in Nigeria, but raised in America. That being said, I can be categorized under the Generation 1.5. This refers to students who are citizens or residents of the US but whose home language is not English. For some of these students English can function as their primary language. In Nigeria, the main tribes or languages are Yoruba, Igbo and Hausa. I was born into a Yoruba home. You can tell a persons tribe by either their first and last name. For example, the Yoruba tribe is known for the “Olu, Oluwa and ola.” Before the trip, since I could barely speak the language, I had trouble distinguishing tribes from one another. Usually, whenever my parents would speak to me in Yoruba, I would have trouble interpreting and I would ask my sister to translate for me.

Before I returned to Nigeria for two years, I went to Cinco Ranch High School. While attending the school, we would have some foreign students, or some other Generation 1.5 students who had a senses of background knowledge of where they came from. Other Generation 1.5 students would be asked what their home country was like, and from there they would be able to pour out information that would have you like intrigued. I was in search for my own story to tell not, someone else’s something to let others know that “I know where I’m coming from,” “ I know my country.” That kind of topic can also lead to good conversations.

With all the fun I was having in America, I then faced the music. I was finally going to Nigeria. Did I want to go? No! Not at all. So, I was going to Nigeria, there were no further questions to be asked, my parents’ decision was final. They insisted that it will be beneficial in the end. I would be going to Nigeria with my older sister and my dad, leaving my two younger sisters and my mom behind. My older sister would soon return to America after her first year.

The plane ticket was booked for the fourth of September, and by this time Hurricane Harvey had struck Houston. While I counted the days leading to my departure, I also prayed that Harvey would hit George Bush Intercontinental Airport so that my flight, and only my flight, for Delta Airlines would be cancelled. Unfortunately, this was not the case .Departure day arrived and all the roads had cleared up. Still refusing to believe this was happening, there I stood in front of Gate C, with a carry-on bag and a suitcase of clothes.

My sisters were in tears as they watched me leave, as was my mom, who tried fake a smile. This was pretty aggravating considering the fact that she wanted me to go. “Ill see them soon, after all its just two years it will be quick. Let’s just make the most of it” I say to myself as I passed the checkout area. At the moment, I felt no need to cry or whine about it, because complaining would only make my it longer. I just had to take it as it was, as much as I felt like running away. Who knew what good could come from this?

The plane landed successfully on the fifth of September; school started on the eleventh. I would be attending Grace International High School, a boarding school in Lagos, Nigeria.

  The following day my dad used it as a day for relaxation, considering that we were coming from America we had to adjust to the time zone. My dad took me around town the next day, showing me some great places and sights. He showed me the hospital where I was born and the flat we stayed in when my mother was in labor.

I was born in a small hospital in Victoria Island. Victoria Island is a big area in Lagos. Lagos is like the suburbs of Nigeria. Lagos is the heart of Nigeria, this is where the money and power is mainly located. All the powerful people in the country stay in Lagos. In a sense Lagos is like the New York of Nigeria. This is where the most attractions are, and Victoria island is at the center of it. Most businesses and churches are established here.

On the seventh of September, we went to the school. We came here this day so I could see the school I would be attending. As we approached the gates of the boarding school, I began to have mixed emotions about it. Excitement and suspense filled my head as we came closer after the long car ride we had. As I stepped down from the car, I was told I would be taking my entrance exam. An exam of which I was not ready for at all. At this point my heart was basically racing and I was not happy with my dad for making that call. There was not anything I could do about the situation, so I did not complain out loud. The thought of failing crossed my mind at the time. “What would happen if I fail,” “I don’t want to fail and waist his money.” My dad made no attempt to calm me down; the only thing he would say was “you ready?” Now that was a rhetorical question any answer other than “yes” would result in a hot slap.

I walked in giving myself motivation. The examiner walked in and handed me my papers. She told me I would be doing a Math and English exam. She asked me the one I would like to do first, and I chose to do Math. As she handed me the paper she told me that I have an hour and thirty minutes. The math test felt easy up and till I reached question 25. I flipped through the remaining pages and realized that I had 50 Multiple choice questions, the remaining questions where non multiple choice. This caused me to start sweating in fear. I skipped question 25 and moved on “Is their any other easy question I could do?” I asked myself as I was running out of time. The examiner then walks in and says “Thirty five minutes left” and this is where I panicked “screw it A B C D!” I went straight to the non-multiple choice questions and could barely answer three questions. My heart sank after submitting the paper, I fought back my tears as the examiner handed me the English exam. Knowing how bad I did on the Math, I was determined to breeze past the English paper. I felt the English paper was somewhat easy, but not bad enough for me to fail.

The examiner checked my work and gave my father back the result. They discussed in Yoruba for a while, I eavesdropped, and only picked out phrases in what they were talking about. The were saying something along the lines of “he needs improvement, but he has been accepted.” A wave of relief filled me inside, and it must have been contagious because it showed on my fathers’ face. My dad now paid the school fees that I had so I could get my school clothes and books.

They sent us downstairs so I could get my uniform for the boarding house and for school. The boarding house uniform we would wear for any activity other than sports that took place downstairs. The boarding house uniform was a checkered blue shirt and khaki pants for the boys and a checkered pink gown for the girls. The school uniform was strictly for school and school excursions such as debate club competitions. The school uniform was a green long-sleeved button-down shirt with a tie and colored whine pants with black shoes and socks. I was absolutely disgusted by the uniform. It was evident that who ever had the idea of such nasty looking uniforms had no fashion sense whatsoever. The two colors did not fit together in any sense, my dad told me to manage the clothes because there is nothing we can do but get it fitted.

  The first year was off to a rocky start, friends did not come easy, I was a little secluded because I was missing home. I was falling a little behind in some of my classes, because it was pretty difficult for me to balance 11 subjects. I was doing Calculus, Math, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Computer, Catering, Civic studies, Yoruba, Geography and English. Some of these subjects I was being taught as a fresh subject. I had enrolled into the school as a year 11 student, and my mates have been taught these subjects since year 10. In order to make good grades I would stay back for tutorials, and I would read over night. It was not as easy as school in America, because I was used to taking only seven classes a school year.

In the school we had three terms a school year, I did not feel comfortable till the second term. I became friendlier but was not feeling true to myself. So I became a little more withdrawn and did not give anybody a chance to speak bad about me. Before I left I was a bit of a extrovert, me having the mindset of “I do not want to be here” really kept me from making friends. I still managed to figure it out because I could not help but talk. It was not until my second year that I began to feel more comfortable; though this was the year I felt more alone because my sister was not there with me, I became more independent. I started to branch out to more people than I did my first year. My dad would call me sometimes but it was not as frequent as it was my first year in the school. At this point I had not been missing home as much I was before and I felt more free with people.

The boarding house was pretty awkward at first primarily because of their restrooms; the place where we shower was not divided by any stalls or curtains. When we shower we could see each other’s private parts, which too me was very uncomfortable. It took me a couple days to get used to the showers. Inside the boarding house phones were not allowed, and this really prevented me from talking to all my former friends. Instead of phones, they allowed tablets sadly there was no free Wi-Fi. So some kids would hack the principal’s server and steal their Wi-Fi.

The boarding house was ran by the boarding house master, and the Boarding house prefect and the seniors. The school has elections that they do for every set of kids for every school year. The seniors were basically in charge whenever the boarding house master was not around. The seniors often abuse their power when it is given to them. The seniors bully their juniors. By junior I mean any student in the grade below. The boarding house had students from the 7th grade to the 12th. So the seniors had had wide range of students to pick on, I was in the 11th grade. The seniors gave the 11th graders some regard because they will soon be entering 12th grade so conflict between them was not much.

The prefects and students were allowed to belt other students, meaning that they could use a belt and deal with the students that were misbehaving. The boarding house master would use and object we called “cane,” which is basically like a tree branch. The cane could be used by a teacher, the principal and the vice principal. The boarding house master was known for his good arm. For an old aging man you would be surprised at how fast his hands move. The fear of being beaten by either one of those objects really got to me. So I was really cautious with how i acted in front of certain people and in different situations. I would often stop my juniors or mates from doing wrong to the juniors, but after a while I just got tired and lazy. Being mean to others people seemed to be the trend, which I nearly followed along to. The seniors do not like to be told what they were doing wrong, and when told it would result in a beat down to the students.

The experience shaped me to be who I was today; the nights I barely got any sleep really paid off in the end. It really opened up a part of me that I did not know I had. I had become more familiar with my culture and began to appreciate the side of me I did not know much about. I learned to appreciate what I had and I became more grateful for what I had. In Nigeria, not everybody has enough money to plan a trip to abroad, but I went there and came back. With all that I have seen in the country it had me thinking about how I could contribute to the society, a lot needs to be done to the country to speed up development. For that I thank God I went. Without the trip I do not think I would have sense of independence , I really went in to depth with my roots.

I have established a social network that will be useful to me in the future, the people I met will and can benefit me in the future. The friendships I have made with the people I met over seas I really enjoyed my time with will come in handy when I plan my return to the country soon.  You never know what you can do till you go through it alone.