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adenei · 3 years

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Hello!! Hope u r having a good day!! I rwally really enjoy ur writings.... So I was kinda hoping if u would do angst 6 from the prompt list 1 for HINNY.... Love U and u r writings 💖💖💖💖

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the ask!!! <3 I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this, but I hope you enjoy this little piece of summer before DH FLANGST!!!

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“You’re lying to me again. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?”

Ginny let out a loud sigh as she polished the last of the silverware for the upcoming wedding. Even though Fleur had become more tolerable since they’d returned for the summer holidays, her Mum had become a raging lunatic. Not that Ginny could entirely blame her. They were hosting a wedding, in the midst of a war, no less, which was no easy feat.

Setting the last knife into the drawer, Ginny brought the polishing cloth to the hamper with dirty clothes awaiting a wash. The house was blissfully quiet, in what was no doubt a rare moment. She was hopeful that she’d be able to sneak up to her bedroom unnoticed to relax a bit before—

“Oh, wonderful, you’ve finished!” Her mum observed as she bustled into the kitchen.

Ginny resisted the urge to groan. She’d been so close to a free moment. If only she’d been two minutes faster.

“Would you be a dear and go degnome the garden?” Ginny very well knew her mother wasn’t asking, even though she posed it as a question.

“But—”

“No ‘buts’, Ginevra! We’re—”

“—hosting a wedding in two days. Yeah, Mum, I know.”

“You don’t need to be fresh, young lady. Now, please go and do as I’ve asked. You can take a break for lunch once it’s finished.”

Ginny inwardly cursed Fred and George for moving out after they’d started the business. De-gnoming the garden had always been their job, but now that they weren’t around often, it fell on her shoulders. Ron’s too. She stalked off toward the door and shut it a little too hard in frustration. When she rounded the corner to the garden, she was surprised to see someone already tackling the task.

She paused where she was standing to watch Harry pull out the menacing creatures from the earth and fling them off into the neighboring field. They hadn’t had much of a chance to spend time together while he was staying there, since her mum was keeping them all so busy. Even though they’d ‘broken up’, she felt no shame in watching the muscles in his arms flexed as he worked. Ginny quickly found herself drifting off to those lazy Sunday afternoons by the lake, when those arms could be found wrapped around her waist.

She forced the thoughts from her head as she closed the distance between them. “Hey,” she greeted, alerting him to her presence. “Mum told me to come out here to take care of the gnomes. She must have forgotten she already assigned it to someone else.”

A smile crossed his lips as sweat poured down his face. “You’re more than welcome to help if you want.”

“I don’t know...I think watching you work might be more fun,” she smirked.

Harry laughed, and the sound was like music to her ears. “Well, I’m almost done anyways. Then, I suppose I’ll need a shower.”

Ginny nodded as she gave in and reached for one of the terrors nearest her. “You do have quite the stench about you,” she said, pinching her nose.

She grabbed the gnome and swung him around and around, until letting go and watching him soar across the field. A disgruntled sound escaped Harry’s lips.

“What? Jealous of my chaser skills? Or did you not expect to be outdone in gnome throwing today?”

“You wish! That was nothing compared to one I just threw before you came out here.”

Ginny laughed. “I watched you throw two before I came over, don’t lie. I had you beat by a long shot.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow in her direction. “Is that a challenge, Weasley?”

“Only if you’re up for it,” Ginny said as she reached for another gnome.

They both set off to throw as many gnomes as far and as fast as they could. It didn’t take long to finish emptying out the garden of the pesky vermin once they’d made a competition of it.

“Well, that worked out better than I planned,” Harry said, brushing his hands together in an attempt to clean off the excess dirt.

“What? Finishing the task, or the throwing contest? Because I’m pretty sure I beat you,” Ginny said as she bumped into his shoulder innocently.

She picked up the shovel that was laying on the ground and brought them over to the shed as Harry followed.

“I don’t think so! I definitely had you on a couple,” he argued playfully.

“Agree to disagree, then,” Ginny said.

She entered the tiny shed and placed the shovel on the back wall. Turning to exit, she didn’t realize how close Harry was and almost bumped into him. He caught her easily, and she found herself in his arms again. They both stood there, frozen, a mess of limbs and sweat. For a moment, Ginny thought Harry was going to kiss her. It’d be so easy to just lean in, one more time.

And just like that, Harry backed away. “Gin, we really shouldn’t.”

Hurt and disappointment swept over her. “Like you don’t want to,” she spat bitterly.

“I...don’t,” he said, the strain in his voice clearly evident.

“You’re lying to me again. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?”

Ginny wasn’t quite sure where that had come from. It was probably the frustration of the whole situation.

“Again?” Harry immediately became defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t trust me with information of what you three are planning! Haven’t I proven that you can tell me? I just want to know that you’ll be safe. How can I know if you won’t even—”

“Gin, you know I can’t tell you! It’s the same reason you can’t come with us. That and you won’t be of age, so the—”

“Yeah, I know. The bloody trace,” she said angrily as she kicked at the ground. “It’s not fair. None of it.”

She looked up to meet his gaze and immediately regretted her words. Sure, it wasn’t fair, but she was being awfully selfish. It was up to Harry to save the magical world as they knew it. The hurt and anguish on his face said more than any words could.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him, wishing she could take away all of his stress and pain. “I just want to make things easier for you.”

She felt him nuzzle into her neck as he said, “You already do. Just promise me you’ll stay safe and out of trouble at Hogwarts this year. I’m doing all this for—”

He choked on his words as the remainder of his unfinished sentence hung in the air between them. You.

“I know,” she whispered back. “Just, promise me the same?”

“You know I’ll try, but—”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say it.”

It didn’t bear repeating, and she refused to let herself believe that these could be their final days together, even though she was well aware it was a possibility. She felt him pull away and immediately missed his warmth and touch, despite the hot July air.

“We should get back inside. I could use a shower after all that hard work,” he said reluctantly. It was an attempt to bring them back to the lightheartedness of a few moments ago.

“Yeah, Potter, you stink,” Ginny joked as a smile returned to her face.

She pretended to push him back out of the shed. He chuckled as he blocked her exit, their playful banter returning. And just like that, their serious conversation was over, though the moment would continue to replay in Ginny’s mind for many months to come.

#hinny #harry x ginny #Harry Potter #ginny weasley #hp dh #hp fanfic #adenei answers

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strangerays · 3 years

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Nothing in Particular Update #2

It’s the Nothing and Particular and Everything update part two: the electric booglaloo. This one is long, so strap in.

It’s been a while since I wrote an update for this story. To be honest, this one gave me a lot of stress, but here I am! Writing this story feels like it is going very slow. I keep telling myself I’ve made a lot of progress (which is true, I have) but for some reason it doesn’t feel like I have? This is likely just my own insecurity. To be frank, I can’t believe I’m still writing this story. If you had told me in February that I’d still be writing this when the weather got warm, I would have laughed.

I am SO excited that I will finally be able to focus on writing now that I’m out of school. I’m afraid to speak the rough deadline that I’ve given myself for this story (the end of August-early September) but now that I’ve spoken it into existence, I hope I can finish! (I hope I can stop watching dumb videogame playthroughs and listening to The Magnus Archives and get something done)

Here is a link to the story introduction and previous update!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting

STORY CHANGES/THOUGHTS/IDEAS:

Here is a big one: I’ve been trying to write this story for myself. I started writing Ray’s story from a place that was personal to me, but I feel like, as that part of myself has begun to heal, I’ve started to think about what a reader would want out of the story. I’m realizing that this is my story so it has to be what I want. Drafts are drafts for a reason, so I’m going to try to get better at letting myself explore what is fun to me.

I always thought I was a discovery writer (I still sort of think I am) but as I’ve finished small sections of the story, I am finding that it’s very helpful to do a rough outline of scenes in upcoming chapters. (I also recommend turning to this if something doesn’t work and you need to retrace your steps!) Just helps me feel more organized!

Jude’s character has got to be one of the most difficult personalities I’ve ever written. Putting her beside Ray just makes it harder. Where Ray is secretive and keeps to herself, Jude is ready to unpack her entire life’s story to anyone. I find that I really have to slow down when writing their interactions. I know this is going to be nowhere near perfect in the first draft, but I think it is a main contributor to my slow writing.

I really like this little narrative I’ve created in the background of the main plot with Ray and Lonan. I love writing these scenes because it’s a way for me to use Lonan when he’s not actively with Ray and to show why Ray is predetermined about things at certain points. Also I love their friendship so much <3

CONGRATULATIONS TO ME on starting to read again because I forgot how much of a help reading other people’s stories can be when you’re struggling with your own oml

I now have a set timeline for the story! Takes place ~4-5 months.

I did that thing where you write a letter from the characters’ perspectives and that was kind of fun

Also just for fun I thought I’d add in that I spent an hour and a half last week filling up a page in my sketchbook with diagrams of the plot. It feels good to be a mad scientist

EXCERPTS UNDER THE CUT!

*At this point, I’m only sharing writing that I am really proud of in order not to spoil the story! This is because I am unsure whether I want to publish this story someday. With that said, that does NOT give you permission to steal my ideas!

CHAPTER: NIGHT CRIES

In the last week of summer, I did everything I could to avoid post-vacation blues. I rode my bike along the gravel roads with no destination, wore my dark sunglasses to people-watch, and fed salami to the minnows that floated on the cusps of boulders. Usually, I sat still for so long that my elbows turned a deep shade of red and the blood in my toes buzzed.

New pockets seemed to open up in Point Blink every day. And with them, came new people. Most of them were older – a middle aged woman who caked her lipstick on, an uncle estranged from his brother, a couple who had miscarried. I hadn’t forgotten about the kids at Mothouse. It was impossible not to think about them. It wasn’t just that I’d never seen them before.

The girl’s limp cigarette bled a trail of smoke that seeped into my Vans. My shirt folded like skin over my bed post. Haunted the room – foiled my mauve sheets and teased my locks. Swept the curtains apart and heated the oak floor. Beams of moonlight leapt to my bookcases; highlighted the posters from various podcasts and bands that I listened to. Wind whistled when I was too still. She forced me to look outside, onto the dark cul-de-sac lit by the reflections of forming rain puddles. No matter whether I sat at my desk or burrowed under my sheets, I felt out of place. She made my bedroom louder. She made my bedroom quieter.

I decided it would probably be best if I never saw her again.

To be honest, I don’t remember much about writing this chapter because it was over a month ago (sorry) but I’m still quite happy with the prose! This comes in after Ray sees Jude for the first time at Mothouse. Based on a first impression, decides that she might want be friends with Jude.

CHAPTER: SORRY

If you spend any long amount of time with someone, you’ll become a thief to their behaviors. If I stared long enough, trees began to replace all of the people we’d ever seen. Oaks had roots that serpentined the ground like children splashing in the bay, pines with needles like spindly old hands, maples with hollows like watchful eyes – all things Lonan had taught me to observe.

CHAPTER: GHOSTS

Then there was the sea – violent and knowing as it romped within bays and alcoves. She had eaten me many times before, both my father and Lonan too. Gulped them as if they were shining plastic wrappings left behind after a meal. I spited her for inviting me once again. I reached up again to grapple with the next rung. It twisted and offered a low whistle.

In these two chapters, Ray is on a photography trip with her class. This is the first time she’s been on this annual trip without Lonan. She left that morning with a goal of being independent and learning to get on with one of the only people she has felt close to. I realize now that the Ghost excerpt sort of sounds like her dad and Lonan have drowned?? Which was not my intention??

CHAPTER: A DIVINE INTERVENTION

“Do you believe in ghosts?” A raspy voice teased from behind me. Cigarette smoke tickled the words, like they were stuck together with jelly inside of her. The question wasn’t particularly calming, but it strengthened my grip on reality. As if the foiled leaves, bark, and dandelions had sprung from the ground and begun to float, they came crashing back down.

I was made of stone.

“I’m not a ghost,” Jude said. “If I was, a ladder would be a pretty counteractive way to outrun me. I could just float up there and haunt you.”

“Maybe you’re a ghost,” she asked, her voice distant.

I shifted my grasp up and down the sides of the ladder. “What?”

“Don’t you believe in ghosts?”

I was reading back some of Ray and Jude’s conversation and there are so many snippets of dialogue that make me laugh because I totally forgot I wrote them... but UGhhH I don’t know if I want to share them because I don’t know whether or not I want to try and publish the story someday. Speaking of that, it’s sort of because it’s so personal to me? I don’t know (this is for future me to pursue) Honestly though, reading these back has made me really happy :)

I wanted to shake her by the shoulders. She acted as though Point Blink could breathe – as though corpses in the cemetery might pull the grass away like dead skin, neighbors would draw blades, and blood-salt would stain her clothes rather than that from the sea. “Trust me, they’ll forgive you. But, I’m just saying, most people around here don’t care nearly as much as you think so. Most of them are way older anyways, so they’re tired of us.”

“Is that you complimenting yourself?” Jude asked.

“Not intentionally,” I said, “but I will take it.”

She laughed. “You shouldn’t be so nice to strangers.”

I wasn’t trying to be. I just didn’t think I wanted her to dislike me.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing or a good thing,” Jude said. “Being good gets you tucked into a thousand different memories. Being good makes you live a lifetime.”

I almost laughed, but then I wondered what I was to her now. “I don’t talk to lots of people.”

“Sometimes there aren’t many people to talk to. But I thought you would have loads of friends.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I thought you would too.”

Alarm like grief lit her eyes, but she laughed. I did too.

“You hardly know me,” she said quietly.

Then the girls explore some old newspapers and letters in a fire tower! Spooky fun!

CHAPTER: YOU LET THIS HAPPEN

This isn’t a major spoiler as it’s literally in the blurb I wrote, but Ray and Jude are caught (targeted..??) in a fire. Ray is brought back to a field where she is questioned.

CHAPTER: NOTHING HAPPENS

He was quiet for several moments while he painted a picture with what little details I had given him, then said, “It’s unfair. I think that’s why it hurts.”

“Because we almost got hurt?”

“No. Because it came true.”

His gentle, ragged voice made me think I could tell him anything. Sometimes, I think that, even then, he knew I left something out.

Ray talks to Lonan after the fire... She’s being a bit dishonest about what actually happened.

CHAPTER: WHY NOT

I remember how the barest amount of red light glared across Lonan’s entire scalp and washed his boyish curls magenta from the roots out. When Jude leaned back on the counter, she melded into the darkness.

This chapter is just part of the narrative that I created with Ray and Lonan’s friendship. There isn’t much I want to spoil from it, but I liked this paragraph!

CHAPTER: INEVITABLE

“We didn’t do anything,” I said.

“Someone did. Why won’t you believe me?”

“I think I would remember whether or not someone was there with us,” I said, “even if we didn’t have the picture.”

This was untrue. I hung lots of photos in my room. A long time would pass before I went to a restaurant again, or a specific coven on one of the beaches, or an outfit that I wore, and I would look into one of my pictures and remember it, and then I would be quite angry with myself that I had almost forgotten that thing forever.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” Jude said. I didn’t like the way she’d lowered her voice. She sounded different every time I saw her. She reached out her arm so our photos were side by side and our fingers were almost touching. “I don’t think you want to.”

Ray finds herself alone in the school’s dark room with Jude. Based on the contents of one of her photos, she tries to convince Ray that there is more to the fire than what meets the eye.

CHAPTER: (this one is untitled)

I didn’t mind that he followed me everywhere. Even when he was quiet, I didn’t find it strange to be around him. We sat silently through films and went on walks. Once, he had fallen asleep while watching The Iron Giant in my bed. I didn’t know if I should wake him up once it ended. I tried not to stare at him. He’d rolled onto his side and bundled himself in one of my blankets covered in stars up to his shoulders so only his small face poked out like a baby owl’s. His soft breath messed his dirty gold coils. They were at their longest. Except for the ebbing light from a candle on my desk, my house was asleep – Lonan needed to go home.

For the first time, I wondered if anyone cared where he was.

Another small part of the little friendship narrative! (This really is the part of the story where I get nostalgic for my childhood, isn’t it) Ray starts to discover more about Lonan’s home life in this part of the story, but there’s not much that I think I want to reveal about that for now.

CHAPTER: THE CRUX OF IT

Why did I feel so paranoid? I found myself staring out the window, into the film of blue that the late sun shown onto the grass and trying to remember what summer felt like.

My main problem was that I didn’t know how to talk to Jude unless it was about Sugarfell. I ran from the hush of cigarette smoke behind closing doors and heard her loud voice in conversations. Even though there might have still been a part of me that wanted to be friends with her, I didn’t have much to base that feeling off of. I could have spent hours clicking the little pieces of her that I had together, but the crux of it was that I would never know Jude unless I forced myself to.

For some reason, that really scared me.

I spent all week trying to think of what to say to her. By Friday afternoon, I still had nothing.

I left off writing with Ray actively avoiding Jude’s little investigation into the arsonist. Ray doesn’t want to be involved in this because she feels that it will throw her sense of normalcy off course. She really just wants to learn how to adapt to a life without her best friend. (It doesn’t help that she’s got fresh trauma)

What will Ray decide? I don’t know. We shall see. (just kidding I know)

Sorry this update was longer! I think I would like to start updating more often than once a month just because they would be shorter and those of you reading this won’t forget what happened in the last update. There are thousands and thousands of words that didn’t show up in this update because - like I said - I don’t know whether I want to publish this story ever?? I’ll probably talk more about this in a separate update.

Thank you so much to those of you who read about my story! I hope you enjoy it!

p.s. btw I now have a myWriteClub account! You can check it out here and stalk me as I tragically fail my writing goals!

#ffs writing this update was like throwing a boulder into a lake #there was so much I wanted to share #it's really difficult to decide what to share as sometimes a paragraph that I'm really proud of will be really spoilery #I can only imagine this will be more and more difficult as I get further into the story #ANYWAYS #I feel like I'm really beginning to see who my characters are <3 #I feel like a proud mother #To be honest #I kind of hated Jude in the beginning #but now I feel like Ray hates her too so that makes me like her #haha im so mean #tune in next time for a Sapphic spy date

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phykios · 4 years

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honesty and promise me, part 3 [read on ao3] [co-written with @darkmagyk]

Several more weeks and hookups later, Annabeth thinks she should probably come clean. Some people might bury it deep, and for sure, Annabeth’s considered it, but, well. It is kind of embarrassing that she didn’t know Percy’s name at first. Stuff like that doesn’t usually bother her--she’s had nameless one night stands in the past, and despite Thalia’s ribbing, she knows that Thalia doesn’t really care either. It’s just that, you know, he’s Thalia’s family, and they’ve seen each other a few more times, and they are planning to continue to see each other a few more times in the future. Or more than a few times.

Anyway, she kind of feels like she owes it to him. Like he deserves this small nugget of truth, payment for all the times he’s fucked her blind. It’s nagging at her, and she hates feeling like she owes anyone anything.

Piper certainly seemed to think so, when Annabeth had told her over their monthly brunch date.

“It’s just common courtesy at this point,” she said. “Like, what if you guys end up married and then sell your story to Hollywood, they cast my dad as the male lead, and it comes out in interviews that you didn’t know his name for like a month? He’s gonna get the wrong idea.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure which part was more ridiculous: the movie, Piper’s dad being involved, or them being married.

Anyway, sharing some of her avocado fries, Piper had reminded her that being mean wasn't very punk rock, shutting her up effectively.

She’s out on site in the Lower East Side, taking measurements for plots of land, writing down sun angles and measuring the wind velocity between the brick buildings, when she gets a text from him.

I’m on a break and I’m starving 😩 Want to grab something to eat?

It’s 2pm on a Thursday and he wants to grab something to eat. If Annabeth didn’t know any better, she’d say that that sounds like a real, honest-to-goodness, bona fide date. (Meeting up at and subsequently leaving bars together does not count as a date, she’s pretty sure. Neither do the booty calls.) He’s been getting a little free with his texts, that boy, sending her selfies and memes and questions about her day, and now this? An invitation to their first, actual date? She should block him on principle, just for the sheer audacity.

sure, wya

520 8th, text me when you get here 😁

That’s another thing: Percy loves his emojis. If this is going to continue, they’re going to need to have a serious talk about that.

She doesn’t need to text him when she gets there; he’s already outside, leaning on the stone edifice of the building like a particularly jacked rent boy in his tight t-shirt and broody look, cigarette between his fingers. The sweatpants sort of ruin the image, though. He looks particularly comfortable in a way that warms Annabeth right from the inside out. “You know, when Nico said you smoked, I honestly didn’t believe it.” she says, not even bothering to say hi.

He looks up from his phone and smiles, the sun behind his teeth. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself.” She doesn’t even hesitate--she plucks the cigarette out of his hand, taking a drag off it herself. “You been smoking for a long time?”

“Who do you think taught Thalia how?” He raises an eyebrow, bemused. “Is that a problem?”

It is, but it’s not like she can tell him that without losing some of her credibility. “Wouldn’t smoking fuck with your cardio?”

Percy shrugs, conceding. “A little. I used to be a lot worse, but I just can’t quite kick the habit. It’s mostly a stress thing, anyway.”

“Rough practice?” she asks, putting just enough effort into her lip wobble to make it abundantly clear that she’s making fun of him. “Were the other boys being mean to you because of your tights?”

He grins at her, saucy. “Annabeth Chase, do you really think that NYCB rehearses here? In the Garment District?” But he laughs before she can stammer out an answer (and thank God, she’s lived here three years and can barely keep the boroughs straight, let alone the neighborhoods). “I just wrapped up teaching a class. I don’t have to be at rehearsal until 5, I was thinking we could hang out? Bryant Park?”

A first date at the New York Public Library. She almost hates to admit it, but Percy Jackson might be kind of her dream man. “I believe I was promised food,” she sniffs, but she does hold out her hand, and when he takes it, lacing his fingers through hers, she’s sure that he can feel her heart beating, palm to palm.

Twenty minutes later they’re settled on a bench in the corner of the green, Annabeth halfway into a ham sandwich and Percy juggling a salad and an iced coffee. He’s been regaling her with tales from the more exciting side of ballet, a side she hadn’t even imagined could actually exist. “So by the time I land in Paris,” he says, taking a sip of coffee, “the guy’s foot has swollen up to, like, twice its original size, and when I finally managed to find some wifi to check my phone, there’s, like, eight missed calls from my mom and my agent, and an email from her that just says ‘READ THIS,’ in all caps, and of course the article is in French, which I didn’t really speak at the time, and I was so stressed that my ADHD made it so I couldn’t even read the Google translation, and I had to ask someone to translate it for me.”

“Oh my god,” she says, struggling to keep it in.

“And that’s how I found out that I’d been moved up to first cast in Le Corsaire, from the poor barista at a coffee shop in Charles de Gaule!” He laughs.

“That’s insane,” Annabeth says. “And the show was the next day?”

“It was that night! I had to haul ass to the opera house and get warmed up, because I was going on in about four hours. You should have seen the looks on everyone’s faces when I stumbled in, I’m sure that they all wanted to kill me.” Percy chuckles, taking a bite of leafy greens. “Now I wasn’t just the twenty-year-old upstart American, I was the twenty-year-old upstart American who skipped town when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“How did it go?”

“Killed it, of course,” he says, deservedly smug.

Despite her best efforts, she’s absolutely entranced; he’s a great storyteller. “I bet you break that story out at parties all the time, don’t you.”

He laughs. “Whatever gets the donors to open their checkbooks, right?”

“I can’t believe you lived in Paris. I’ve always wanted to see it.” She’d had a few chances to when she was in college, the semester she’d studied abroad in Rome, but she just never got around to it. Just another item on her long, long list of regrets, placed somewhere between the sketchy burrito from last week and not telling her mom to fuck off earlier when she’d had the chance. “If I were you, I’d never leave.”

Percy shrugs. “It was amazing, I won’t lie. But towards the end I just really, really missed it here. All my family is in NYC, you know? My mom, step-dad, and my sister live here, and Thalia and Nico and Hazel, too. I tried to come back and visit whenever I could, but being away from them was really hard.” There’s something soft and inviting in his expression when he says, “I’m really happy to be back home.”

“What are they like?” Annabeth asks. “Your family. Your non-mob family, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes, but he grins another one of those blinding grins, too. “My mom is the most amazing person you will ever meet. Not only did she support my dance habit, she did it as a single working mother who had to raise an angry, ADHD asshole of a son who didn’t always appreciate her. I don’t even want to know how many hours she had to work or how many scholarships and grants she had to track down in order to pay for me to go to SAB, but somehow she made it work, and managed to write her novel at the same time. She married my step-dad the summer I turned sixteen, and my baby sister was born the next year.”

Even Annabeth, cynical and black-hearted as she is, has to smile back. The love he has for his mom is so palpable, so tangible, she can practically see him glowing. “And the…” What had Thalia called them? “The ‘Cousin Consortium’?”

At that, Percy laughs, full-bellied, unrestrained. “The name was Nico’s idea. I didn’t really have many close friends when I was a kid, apart from my buddy Grover--he had to wear this really gnarly leg brace and I liked to dance, so you can imagine how much we got picked on--but we were all really close growing up, since our dads were all assholes. They may have left us emotionally scarred, but at least we had each other’s backs the whole time.”

This is a very Percy thing, she’s starting to realize: he can not and will not hold back on his feelings. He simply refuses to. Where most guys might try to hide or downplay their affection for their friends, Percy’s is written all over his face. Maybe it’s a byproduct of doing ballet, but he’s so unashamed of his love for his friends and his family and his art, that maybe Annabeth kind of wishes she could be included in that love too, if it always feels this warm and joyful.

“I think it’s amazing that you guys are so close. I only had the one cousin when I was growing up, and we didn’t really talk all that much,” Annabeth says, almost without her permission. Something about him, it’s just so easy to talk to him. He makes it safe to open up.

“The med school guy, right?”

Annabeth nods. “Magnus. Fifth generation Harvard student. We’re all very proud.”

Ugh. Even she has to wince at the false cheer in her voice. Percy gives her a half-smile, sympathetic and soft. “Harvard not really for you, then?” he asks, picking up the threads of a long and complicated story, and one that she absolutely does not want to get into right now. Or ever, if she can help it.

“More like I wasn’t really for Harvard.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. She had been good enough for the university in Cambridge, Mass--good enough for two degrees and graduation with honors--but she had never been good enough for her mother’s capital-H Harvard. Never good enough for her mother at all, really.

Percy takes her hand. His fingers are cold from his iced coffee. “Hey. It’s their loss,” he says, with a sincerity and an intensity that makes her blush.

Every part of her wants to pull away. His thumb is rubbing against the joint of her finger, soothing and sweet, and she thinks she may break out in hives from it. “Damn right it is,” she mumbles.

He is so nice. So nice and hot and sweet. Objectively, what she’s about to do is a terrible idea, and might torpedo a really good thing that they have, but if she doesn’t come clean now her own guilt is going to drive her insane.

“Okay, I have a confession to make.” Percy raises his eyebrows, slurping the last dregs of his drink. “When we met… and then when we hooked up the first time… I may have… thoughtyouwereJason.”

He blinks. “Pardon?” he asks, mumbled around the straw.

Annabeth buries her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

“You… thought I was Jason?”

“Well,” she sputters, glaring at him through her fingers, “you were being all bro-y with Thalia!”

He is valiantly trying to hold in a smile. “You know, I distinctly remember telling you my name that morning.”

“I was really hungover,” she whines, “and you were shirtless and making breakfast so I wasn’t really… paying attention.”

“For a whole week?”

This is so embarrassing, why couldn’t she just keep her stupid mouth shut? “Yeah.” She slumps her shoulders, stuffing her hands into her jacket pocket. “Sorry.”

She’s not entirely sure what she expected: at best a couple of weird looks and a tentative promise to meet up later that would end up not working out, at worst she thinks he’ll just get up and leave her here at Bryant Park. Either way, they’d be doomed to months of awkward interactions, until eventually they wouldn’t be able to be around each other, and Thalia would have to pick a side--and Annabeth’s seen what Thalia does to people who cross her family. She’s seen Thalia beat a dude to pulp for calling Nico the f-slur. Picking Percy over Annabeth? That’s nothing.

So when he starts laughing, Annabeth is completely at a loss. Slowly, at first, then all at once, he’s laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and he has to put down his salad so it doesn’t topple over onto the grass. His head is tilted back in joy, the grey, late afternoon light adamant that Annabeth can see all of his features clearly, from his screwed up eyes to his bright, white teeth to the single dimple in his cheek.

Of course, even his laughter is hot. Asshole.

“You thought I was Jason!” He shrieks.

Annabeth crosses her arms, scowling.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh,” he giggles. Annabeth can feel her own giggle rising in response, and she ruthlessly quashes it. “I can definitely say I’ve never heard that one before. You do know Jason is blond, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I did not. Besides, you and Thalia look exactly alike.”

He scoffs. “No we don’t.”

“Uh, yeah you do. You, Thalia, and Nico are all basically clones of each other.”

“Okay, Captain Glasses, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth feels like she has to say again.

He cocks his head. “For what? For thinking I was Jason? He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“No, for,” she blushes again. All this blood rushing to her head can’t be good for her. “For sleeping with you when I still thought you were Jason.”

Percy scoots closer to her, throwing her a grin and slinging his arm over her shoulders. Without even realizing that she’s doing it, she settles in beside him like she’s been doing it her whole life, slotted up against his torso, tucking her booted feet beneath her legs. “I am choosing to take that as a compliment,” he says, smirking. “You couldn’t resist my charms, even when you thought I was a brogrammer.”

Annabeth can’t help herself. She kisses him, wiping that smug grin right off his face, and when she finally retreats, after what feels like hours, he looks so dazed she could probably keep calling him by any name she wanted and he wouldn’t even realize it.

After their lunch, they meander for hours, headed in a vaguely southerly direction, holding hands the whole time, a steady, uninterrupted flow that took them all the way from Midtown to Greenwich Village. He tells her about his first day at ballet school; she tells him about her favorite monuments. “There are two architectural environments in America,” she says, ranting, speaking with enough force that she might forget the feeling of his hand in hers, “endless dead suburbia, or cities where every single building is either a concrete or a glass block--and not even Brutalist concrete, just shitty, poorly designed, paint-by-numbers concrete. It is an absolute travesty of modern government that they don’t fund any public works projects anymore.”

“That’s why all the gardens and stuff?” he asks.

“Nowadays everything is built by the lowest bidder. At least I get to add some beauty back into the city.”

“I know what you mean,” Percy says. “Paris is practically overflowing with public works, you almost forget about it sometimes.”

She sighs. “You’re so fucking lucky. Paris is so beautiful and everything in New York is just hideous.”

“Aw, come on,” he says. “Not everything. What about the Empire State Building, or Central Park?”

“Well, obviously, those,” she says, just a teensy bit flustered, but she’s not about to give up the argument without a fight. “I just mean like, normal, every day buildings: offices and apartments and stuff. It’s all so samey and boring.”

He looks to her right, pointing at the building they are passing. “What about this one?”

She turns.

If she had known they were headed this way, she never would have taken them past here.

“It’s… okay, I guess,” she mumbles, staring up at the arched windows, pedimented doors, and Rococo details of Miss Minerva’s Private Pre-College Prep School. A shudder goes down her spine, like someone walking over her grave. “There are better Beaux-Arts buildings.”

Sensing her discomfort, he picks up the pace, and changes the subject.

Finally, he stops outside a nondescript building, turning to face her. “This is me,” he says, a little bit mournfully, squeezing her hand. “Are you okay to get home safely?”

This man is ridiculous; it’s not even dark out. “I think I can manage a few blocks,” she says, lightly swatting him. “Isn’t it kind of early for you, though? It’s only four o’clock.”

He flushes faintly, one hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Uh, well, I always give myself a little extra time--you know, time blindness and everything.”

“You baked in extra time in case I wanted you to walk me home, didn’t you?” She mock-gasps, secretly delighted. “Scandal!”

“Guilty,” he grins. “You’ve been to mine so many times, I was curious.”

She just barely stops herself from laughing out loud at the very idea of Percy coming to her apartment--as if. Thalia hasn’t even been to her apartment. Nobody knows where she lives, none of her neighbors know who she is, and this is entirely by design. “Cut me some slack; a girl’s gotta have some mystery. Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

“I have a feeling you’ll never make things easy for me,” he says, white teeth gleaming.

“You better believe it,” she smiles back. “Now that I’ve foiled your plans, are you going to be too bored?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he shrugs. “I’m very resourceful when it comes to boredom.”

Inspiration strikes, and she grasps his hand, pulling him down the alleyway. She almost hates to admit it, but she has something of a Pavlovian response when it comes to hanging out with Percy. Annabeth has come to expect some really excellent sex whenever the two of them meet up, and maybe spending all afternoon with him has made her a little bit horny.

She presses him up against the brick wall, hidden from the street by the long afternoon shadows, and kisses him. His hands flounder for a second, before coming up to rest on her shoulders, this thumbs tapping against the base of her neck, fingers fluttering on her jacket. It’s an intimate touch, kind of chaste and very respectful, and he holds her with precision and grace. He wouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t want to. This is a date with no expectation of sex on his part. But Annabeth does not want grace right now, spooked by the ghost of her old school. She does not want precision. She just wants him. She just wants to keep him on his toes, keep him interested, blow his mind a little.

She just wants to blow him, to be honest.

He squeaks into her mouth as her hands fly to his belt, deft fingers practically ripping it off of him in an increasingly familiar motion. “H-hey,” he says, squeezing her shoulders, “this is--”

“Do you not want me to?” she asks, one hand playing at the top line of his underwear.

“No--I mean, are you sure? I’m-I’m okay with this, I just want to--”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek, then drops to her knees. “But we’ve got some time to kill, don’t we.”

Afterwards, when she’s finished with him, Annabeth wipes her mouth, and he whimpers.

“Ho… holy shit,” he pants, flushed and trembling.

She tucks him back into his boxers, doing up his fly. “There we go. That was better than being bored, right?”

He nods wordlessly, swallowing, shaking. His eyes are glassy and glazed, stupid like he’s just shot out his brain through his dick.

In the short time they’ve been together (though, honestly, this might be the longest relationship she’s ever been in before… and they haven’t even broached the “dating” conversation yet) Annabeth has been on the receiving end of several different Percy looks. His face will light up with joy when he first lays his eyes on her, so happy to see her (though she can’t really fathom why), glinting like the sun on the water. His eyes will narrow, glaring, even as he furiously tamps down on his growing smile when they start arguing over something stupid, like Annabeth’s affinity for olives. He’ll grin at her, knife sharp and slanted, licking his lips and looming over her after she comes down from yet another orgasm via his mouth or his hands.

Percy looks at her now like someone took a bat to his head, and instead of seeing stars, he sees little miniature Annabeths flying around.

He pulls her to him and kisses her, entirely too sweet for what she’s just done to him, but that is also a very Percy thing. And when she leaves him with a final kiss on his cheek and squeeze of his ass, she can feel that look burning a hole through her jacket, following her down the alley and around the corner, and she finds that she doesn’t mind the weight of it at all.

#my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #ballet au #darkmagyk #woot!!!!

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part0714 · 3 years

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While we wait

So here I am again. if de-stressing is my goal, then I’m failing at the start. Last night I realized that I had not taken my anxiety meds in over 3 days. Why? Because I forgot to pick up the prescription and I only just now noticed.

This is unbelievable. It was only last month (last prescription) that I lost track of it and missed doses. By the time I realized it, I was in full drug addict withdrawals. It was late in the day when I realized my prescription was actually not filled because my Dr. denied it. Why? Because I needed the psychologist dr. To fill it and not the neurologist(who originally put me on it). I don’t have a psychologist. I do now though. Anyways, I had a panic attack over the phone and screaming at them for not refilling what they put me on. I got it fixed and swore I would never forget and wait until the last minute to fill it.Well, that didn’t work out like I planned. On a brighter note, someone scheduled me an appointment with a psychologist. If I had to guess , it was probably my neurologist. The one I chewed out and had a panic attack with. Referring me to a psychologist was a smart moved though. Point of all this, I can’t keep myself straight. Good luck to my future psychologist.

So, it did help to write yesterday. I thought I’d be good for a few days until I write again. But, last night, I found myself switching from happy to “ people are buttholes” in about 2.3 seconds. Why? We are still waiting on the results of the biopsy. To be honest, I am not sure if it’s going to be ok. But with soccer tryouts starting yesterday, I already spoke to the assistant coach and asked if anything can she sit on the bench during the games. He said absolutely and she can wear her game jersey too. The assistant coach of the younger team sat with us and said it was crazy to think my daughter wouldn’t be on the team again. I said response that there’s only so many spots though and we don’t know how long my daughter will be out. She seemed to think it didn’t matter because my daughter is pretty dang good. I was thrilled. Because for me, reality was her likely not making it again since we have no idea what’s going on. But being there gave me a whole new outlook and hope. That was short lived.

I spoke to the coach of the younger coach who I’m friends with and has coached my daughter before and she said there is talk of her not making the team since we don’t have answers. Great! Wonderful. So , now the “the waiting game’’ just got more miserable. It’s reality, but she’s worked so hard for years just to play for the school. The only thing I can think is, first, let’s pray she’s ok. Second, if she can’t maybe this will make her spirit stronger. You know, ‘’‘’what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’’ thing.

It’s so hard for me to realize how serious sports are. In the off season, she does a lot of recreational teams. It’s much more relaxed. As I sat yesterday, I heard moms talking about the summer and apparently some did league soccer over the summer. We can’t do that. We do not have that kind of money. So, yesterday it was a wake up call. No matter how hard you work or even how good you are, they will drop you and move on. That’s not so horrible being that the “real world’’ works the same way. But, these are 8th graders.KIDS. In a small country town. Really? So if she can’t play, does she lose her friends too? It’s starting to look that way.

So where are we now. Let’s say she can’t play this season. It happens. But will she get discouraged and forget about something she’s work so hard it? I don’t think so because she love the competition the games bring, BUT, I don’t want her to be sad this season if she is out. I guess I’ll make plans to encourage her to have a “side hobby’’ like art or something. Something she can still do to have goals and that feeling of being proud of herself.

Why does all of what SHE’S going through get me so down? It all just a shock. She’s always been my ““Healthy kid.’’ Now what?

One thing is for sure, I need to work on my attitude because within two hours I went from literally saying out loud “ I’m so happy we moved out here( in the country) everyone is like family. To ‘’‘everybody are buttholes we should just not speak to anyone ever again.’’

I don’t know if that attitude is more on the dramatic side or just ‘’girl got issues’’ side. Probably, both. For now my thoughts will stay in my head because I don’t want my kids to learn to be that way. With all of this said , I’m presuming she is ok. When the results come in, I may not care anything about all of this.

#waiting #liver #soccer #mom #journal #writing #parent

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1194

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

What’s your favourite song to sing to? These days it’s Sweet Night by V, but it always changes tbh. I don’t really have an all-time favorite song to sing along to.

What’s your relationship like with your exes? Nonexistent. I’m good at blocking off people and memories like that, no matter how special the relationship had been or how much time we spent together. I don’t feel guilty about it; I actually feel more at peace this way.

What mistake do you find yourself making over and over again? Procrastinating and putting off things I could literally finish in 10 minutes or less. I’ve been better about it, to be fair to myself; but the habit comes out every once in a while and I always end up kicking myself in the ass for not already knowing any better.

What are you afraid to lose? Hmm...probably people, especially my friends. I’ve been starting to think more about this these days. My two best friends are in very good, committed relationships, and I know that one day they’ll have lives and families of their own, maybe even move out of the country. I’m finally acknowledging the fact that maybe I am afraid of getting left behind and ending up alone. Those thoughts make me sad, though, and I hate being stuck in feeling sad, so I try to shake them off and focus on my happiness in the present.

What’s one of the hardest decisions you’ve had to make? Agreeing to break up with Gabie. I never liked admitting defeat, so that was a particularly brutal afternoon.

Have you ever gave up on a love interest as they acted differently around other people? I’ve never been in this situation.

Do you think you’re ready for love? What does love even mean to you? I’m taking a break from it, actually. I was in a relationship that I put a lot of effort in for a long time, and I don’t mind focusing on myself for now especially considering I put myself in the backseat for the entirety of said relationship. I feel no need to jump into another relationship any time soon.

What was the last thing you turned down doing? Angela was showing me some shops that were starting to put up offers for the new BTS Hybe Insight photocards. Those photocards are only being given away to visitors who go to the new Hybe museum, and we didn’t want to technically pirate them, so we both chose not to buy. We can wait till we can travel to South Korea together and get the photocards for ourselves :)

Have you ever fell for someone who was clearly bad for you? Technically...yeah? She eventually ended up being bad for me, but I didn’t know it at the time.

Are you a party animal? No. I like attending parties, but I never want to be the center of attention.

Who are you the biggest fan of? My best friends.

When was the last time someone really let you down? I haven’t felt that disappointed in anyone in a while.

What song can you not help but dance to? Mic Drop.

You’re DJ for the night - first track to get everyone going? ...Now that I mentioned it, Mic Drop. The Steve Aoki remix in particular. Sorry folks, y’all are getting K-Pop tonight.

Have you ever been too scared to tell someone how you felt about them? Yes.

Where do you feel the most inspired and creative? Erm, never? I never feel creative. But when it comes to being inspired, I usually feel it when I have one-on-one talks with Bea. She schedules a brief talk with me once every few months just to catch up and ask me how I’m doing, work-wise and growth-wise. I find that it really helps and I always exit the call wanting to perform better at work.

Have you ever been hit on by a pushy person? No.

When’s the last time you met someone for a coffee? I’ve never done that.

Describe the ideal man or woman for you: Kim Taehyung. That man is doing a stupid great job ruining everyone else for me.

What place in nature would you love to visit one day? Somewhere with auroras.

What accent do you find attractive? Like I’ve said on previous answers, I like Florence Pugh’s accent, whatever it is. I could listen to it all day.

What do you think you’re really good at? I’ve always loved writing and I’m pretty confident in my skills.

Do you have something you’d like to tell someone right now? I know Jo is going through a breakup and I want to reach out and share a few reassuring words, but I’m not very good at that kind of stuff. And since she isn’t initiating, it might mean she wants her own space for now too.

Have you ever had feelings for a friends partner? Never.

What career would you love to pursue: I’m more than okay with my current field. But had things turned out differently, I’d most likely be taking up law.

What was the biggest lies you’ve told? I never like lying so I try to make the ones I make as trivial as possible.

How can you tell if someone loves you? Idk for the most part I believe people have different love languages, so expression is always different for everyone. I don’t wait for people to act a certain way for me to deduce that they love me.

What’s one of your fondest memories? Front row at a Paramore concert, 2017. I went alone and danced without a care in the world and sang along to every song, and it was one of the nicest couple hours of my life.

What’s your favourite thing to do that doesn’t cost much? Taking surveys is literally free.

What do you feel unnecessarily judged for? I feel like I would be judged for having an entire blog just for surveys, which is exactly why I don’t share about this hobby with anyone. Not even my ex knew about it until much later on in our relationship.

What are you proud of yourself for? Still being here is a big thing.

What relaxes you after a busy day? As is pretty obvious already at this point, BTS. I like looking for funny compilations or interviews of theirs to watch to de-stress.

Have you ever known someone who suffered from drug addiction? Nope. Not that I know of, at least.

Why did your last relationship end? She wasn’t in it anymore.

Who do you have a crush on? Taehyung :/

When was the last time you stayed up all night? I was up until 4 AM earlier, if that counts. I don’t really do entire all-nighters anymore; latest I can do is either 4 or 5 AM.

Have you ever been someone’s rebound? No.

What would you fight LTR for the right to do? I don’t know what that is or who they are.

When did you last apologise? What was it for and was it accepted? Some work stuff came up today and it was something I needed to ask my manager about, so I had to message her. I apologized profusely before and after my main message since it’s a weekend and I HATE making my co-workers think about work on weekends, but the matter was a little urgent and it couldn’t wait. But eventually the thing got sorted out, so I followed up with a message asking her to disregard my question, and I sent her a heart GIF as well.

Have you ever been to Cuba? I haven’t, but I’d like to visit.

What do you feel positive about? That I am most likely ordering Frankie’s tonight because I’m having a serious craving for spicy Korean wings that I can’t ignore anymore.

Do you know any Spanish? I’ve retained the words, sentences, and verb tenses I was able to learn when I was still training on Duolingo; and Filipino has a lot of Spanish influences, so I wouldn’t say I’m completely unfamiliar with Spanish. I wouldn’t be able to last a conversation, though.

If you could go on a road trip now, where’s you go? Continued from this morning. I’d probably just go back to Tagaytay. La Union could be a great road trip spot as well.

When in danger are you more fight or flight? Flight. What makes you irrationally angry? When people speak excessive Taglish, especially in a work setting. Most Filipinos are fluent in both, so I’d wish they’d pick one and stick to it. I find code-switching pretty unprofessional for the most part.

Do you feel self conscious about a certain body part? Sure.

Is there someone you’ll always be there for? If so, who? My best friends.

Have you been accused of being manipulative? Gab probably did a few times, but I barely remember those memories anymore.

What’s the most romantic thing someone has done for you? I literally can’t remember anymore.

What or who do you miss from your childhood? The ability to be carefree and the greater space to make mistakes.

Do you miss late night calls with a certain somrone? No, I hate calls.

What would you like to do again some time? Be able to go back to coffee shops.

What’s your least favourite season? Summer.

Do you know someone who’s ridiculously arrogant and entitled? A lot of boomers and older Gen X-ers.

Have you ever considered violence to solve your problem? No.

Who’s the best dancer you know? That I know in real life? Aubrey. Overall, Park Jimin.

What’s the best bit of advice you’ve received? I can’t seem to remember the exact same quote they gave me, but it was Andi telling me a few months ago not to rush my healing so I can avoid potentially harming myself in the process.

How good a swimmer are you? Not very good. I just like swimming leisurely.

What’s your favourite baby animal? Puppies and baby elephants.

What’s the best compliment you have received? It’s always nice to be told I’m strong.

What’s your favourite gemstone? Don’t have one.

Do you bounce back well when things go wrong or does it take a while? It takes a while, but I always get there eventually.

What’s an underrated colour/shade you really like? Not sure; the colors I tend to lean towards I think are pretty popular choices.

What insult or label would hurt you the most to recieve? Being told I’m useless or a burden.

How often do you notice the attractiveness of strangers? I rarely find strangers attractive.

Are you good at hiding your emotions? No, I practically wear them on my face.

Are you romantic? More than I’d like to admit.

#survey #surveys

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natsspammityspamspamham · 4 years

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Dino Watches Anime (Nov 15)

BOI, I HAVE A MIDTERM ON TUESDAY AND TEST ON WEDNESDAY. SCREW THAT. I’M GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE ANIME I’VE BEEN WATCHING IN BETWEEN STUDY SESSIONS! Yeah, the studying is like 2% while the anime and games are like 98%... I’m working on that, okay? Anyway, I’m going to cover mostly seasonal stuff with some other stuff.

Let’s go over the seasonal stuff first. Summer had so few anime coming out whereas Autumn/Fall came in like, “OPEN THE FLOODGATES! LET’S GO!!!” I haven’t even gotten around to all the anime airing this season that I want to like Yuukoku no Moriarty, Majo no Tabitabi, and Adachi to Shimamura. I missed some last season too like Deca-Dance which I just didn’t want to commit to if it was only for the good animation.

Taisou Samurai (DROPPED)

I dropped it after two episodes. MAPPA has two major series this season, but they clearly gave more time and attention to the one that was actually going to make money here (which I’ll talk about later). This one seems like a passion project without the passion in it anymore. It’s like opening a bag of chips and finding out they went stale long before you even reached into the bag.

Taisou Samurai, at its core, has a premise that I found really promising. I happen to like watching gymnastics sometimes, and the idea of an athlete who doesn’t want to retire is interesting. They went wrong with the execution. I don’t know what they were trying to pull here, but with unlikeable characters and a terrible run at it, it’s like they weren’t playing with a full deck of cards here.

Also, if you don’t know what a gyaru is, one of the supporting characters will look like a racist caricature. Also, this bird has no other point than to try to make up for this show’s lack of usable humour by using Kappei Yamaguchi’s range and going, “Please, save this show. I beg you.”

I didn’t even bother giving this show three episodes to drag me in because I just couldn’t see myself wasting another 20 minutes here. Maybe I’ll have a change of heart, but for now, I should be having better things to do.

Munou na Nana (WOULDN’T RECOMMEND)

I know everyone has made this joke already, but this is really just My Hero Academia x Among Us. I feel like if there was some more... budget put into this anime, they could’ve made it a lot better. The manga had a lot more detail, so a lot of the gruesome scenes with zombies or killings, etc. were muted and toned down beyond belief. Not to mention, I guess watching it after I read the manga just made me feel stupid. This is such a junkie show that pulls tricks that everyone knows is coming. Nonetheless, I can’t find some big reason to say “do not watch this” because it’s still a very mediocre show. It has its good points, but its presentation devalues it, the voice acting is meh (especially since Yuuichi Nakamura is playing THREE overpowered main cast characters this season), and the jig is up after the first episode, so the twists are just to make you sympathize more with the imposter. I haven’t seen a show like this for a while though, so I guess you can watch it if you want something refreshing like that. I don’t think you’re supposed to like this cast of characters, so I won’t say anything against not liking this cast.

Kamisama ni Natta Hi (CONDITIONALLY RECOMMEND)

Jun Maeda... the man who manages to incorporate baseball into every anime he does... seriously, every anime I’ve watched by him has it from Angel Beats to Charlotte to that unfinished Little Busters I just left on hold. Anyway, Kamisama is no exception. Jun Maeda has a reputation for building touching stories that start off strong then really lose their footing once he realizes that he’s not going to get 24 episodes and needs to squeeze all of those 16 episodes of story left into 4 episodes or so. It also doesn’t help that sometimes he goes off on useless storylines that pay no use to the story.

Hina is really funny sometimes (but can be annoying). Narukami is funny. Really, everyone has some valid point about them that makes the show better compared to the previous entries.

Seriously, some little kid comes up to you and goes, “The world is ending, I am God, and I’m going to stick by you.” Meanwhile, you’re just a simp that’s trying to get your childhood friend to fall for you.

Honestly, I’m still having a blast watching this. As much as Maeda’s writing can really suffer from tonal shifts (mostly in the end), I still wanted to watch this anime simply because I always like his storytelling in the beginning, and the laughs it brings can sometimes still muddle out the bitter taste that’s left in your mouth when the series finishes. I can already feel this train going down a slide and off a cliff. I already paid for my ticket though, so I’m obligated to stay on this shootshow until the end.

Seriously, I do not like where some of these relationships are heading.

Maoujou de Oyasumi (CONDITIONALLY RECOMMEND)

This anime is relatable. It can get stale fast for a lot of people, but every time I think I’m going to get sick of it, it pulls one of the same gags that makes me go, “This. This is why I’m sticking with this.” I’m not sure how much more there is to say. It’s just an abducted princess who couldn’t care less that she’s a hostage and instead, takes this newfound time to take some good ZZZs. What a life.

Oh yeah, this princess is also willing to commit murder, mutilation, theft, and assault to get the sleep she wants.

Tonikaku Kawaii (CONDITIONALLY RECOMMEND)

I’m not dropping this show... even if it makes no sense. The premise is astoundingly stupid, but it pulled a Zombieland Saga on me. It sounded so stupid, but once I gave it one episode, I found myself being entertained and almost rooting for the characters and their relationships.

Imagine this: You are about to get into the high school of your dreams when you see the girl of your dreams cross your path. You want to ask her out so you jump over the barricade and get hit by a truck. You’re on the brink of death when you realize you can’t die there without confessing your love. You chase her down with blood coming out of your head and confess. She says that she’ll only go out with you if you marry her. You then... somehow survive, drop out of school, then get a job to search for her. I kid you not. This is the setup. It’s as stupid as it sounds, and the anime knows this. It doesn’t try to fool you into thinking that this series is supposed to be anything but some highway fast-track way to convince you into watching a married couple. I think what irked me the most is that the character designs didn’t change from when they were in middle school to when they were adults. It wasn’t the being hit by a truck and not being sent to another world, it wasn’t this girl who stopped the truck without ruining her hair, it wasn’t anything else but their character designs staying the same.

Anyway, this anime is cute as long as you can jump some hurdles. It’s basically puppy-love marriage with anime stupidity through and through. I don’t know what about this series people, including myself, find charming.

Jujutsu Kaisen (RECOMMENDED - BUT DON’T COMPARE TO DEMON SLAYER TOO MUCH!)

It’s Shonen Jump. “Will it be the next Kimetsu no Yaiba? The next big Shonen Jump series? One of the next big three? Five?” No, I don’t think so. I’m not enjoying this nearly as much as I did binging KNY. The cast isn’t nearly as likeable, but I’m still having a good time. It’s not all that fair to make that comparison anyway. The cast for Jujutsu Kaisen is passable. I like some of the main cast, but I feel like they lack the same kind of depth with its main heroine. I know she gets more stuff done in the future chapters, but her backstory so far is, “I had a friend once... No, she’s not dead. She just left our small town.”

The fight scenes are actually so much fun to watch. MAPPA gave this series a lot more time and budget than say that first anime I mentioned. It’s fluid, the camerawork is amazing, the choreography is on-point.

The voice acting for this anime is spectacular among the main cast... when character dialogue allows it.

I feel a bit of imbalance, but Yuuji does offer a good protagonist template. Junya Enoki makes his lines so funny and gives this nonchalant approach that is the polar opposite of his performance in Tonikawa. This is definitely his season.

Junichi Suwabe voicing the main demon thing is amazing too. It fits so well, and he sounds so cool and evil. It’s great.

Gojou is also one badass mentor played by Yuuichi Nakamura. Overpowered, part of the main cast, etc. Insert your reverse Kakashi joke here. Just give him more Sharingan genjutsu, I dare you.

Yuuma Uchida is back playing another tragic character that’s serious and uptight. I can’t say much more about him.

The opening and ending are both worth listening to even if you don’t want to watch the anime. Lost in Paradise by ALI has been on repeat for me.

Besides that, I’m going to go over some other anime that I’ve been watching.

Hunter x Hunter (AS IF THIS HASN’T BEEN RECOMMENDED ENOUGH)

Slowly. Slowly but surely. 11/148.

I know this is going to be amazing... I just want to be in the right mood to full savour it. I don’t want to be consumed by stress and not pay attention. The reason why I like a lot of those seasonal anime is because I don’t pay the same kind of attention.

If you told me these characters’ ages, I probably would’ve believed everyone... except Leorio. The guy looks like a middle-aged money-hungry gangster.

What I would give to have the energy and serotonin of a Shonen Jump protagonist.

Haikyuu (YEAH, IT’S GOOD)

I’m watching this one with my mom and sister as they go “OMG OMG OMG” as we watch while I’m sitting there like -_-

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good show, but sports anime are made like shounen battle anime (because they are in a way) with different stakes. I’ve felt more “nervous” about some of the Haikyuu matches than I did with some of the Hunter Exam. Worst case scenario in Haikyuu, you lose the match. Worst case scenario in Hunter x Hunter? You die.

I knew what I was going to get into when I was watching Haikyuu, and it’s given me what I remembered (since I did watch 10 episodes of it a few years ago) and expected.

SKET Dance (HIGHLY RECOMMEND)

Unfollow me. Unfollow me right now. This is what I’m going to be talking about for the next month. I can feel it. I’ve had this show for like 3 days and watched around 33 episodes along with some of these other titles. I have a problem. I know that, but I don’t feel like fixing it. This show is just too good.

I get why people call this a poor man’s Gintama, but it’s not quite that. I can get the similarities, but it’s like eating an empanada and saying that it’s just like that dumpling you tasted last week. It looks alike on the surface... if you’re not that great at... telling the difference between things... but once you get to the meat of it (PUN HAHA), you realize that they are completely different, and you were a fool for thinking otherwise.

That’s our main heroine! Go go go!

Dude, episode 25 hit me out of nowhere, AND I READ THE SPOILERS! I won’t say any more than that.

The cast is one of the best that I’ve seen in a while. Their chemistry is basically the entire show. Without one of the main three, you wouldn’t have the show anymore. It handles its female characters better than some of its fellow competitors at the time, and it may have what some may call a “token fat character”, but the character never makes fun of her for being fat. They make fun of her for saying “Yabasu” every single sentence. It hurts that the manga ended with some loose ends, and this anime isn’t getting a season 2.

But at its weird and mushy core, this show is about three people with heavy and complex pasts who simply want to help people work out their issues in their own... unique ways.

I don’t want to say much else, but I wish more people would watch/read it and create/post most content for it even if it’s a bit old because it deserves it. I’m almost a decade late, and this anime still holds up.

I gave Mairimashita Iruma-kun its own post.

#dino watches anime #seasonal anime #sket dance #haikyuu #hxh #hunter x hunter #tonikaku kawaii #tonikawa #kamisama ni natta hi #Jujutsu Kaisen

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randomoranges · 3 years

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here we go, the summer retrospective no one actually asked for lol

Seeing as I’ve done this summer retrospective for years, back on the old LJ and did it here last here, I thought I’d do it again. It’s under a cut, because this is for me, but like feel free to read through it and judge me, I guess lol.

This summer was weird. In so many ways. For starters, it was my shortest summer in a really long time – if ever, minus the year I worked at McGill. The end of the school year dragged on for like 3 weeks and by the time it actually ended, it took me, retrospectively, another 3 weeks to recuperate from it. I ended up replacing a teacher who got Covid in November and never came back and the group was hard as hell and that took a gigantic toll on me – emotionally and physically and mentally. This entire year was a shit show of stress and “anxiety”, so that was - fun. On top of that, there were also places I wanted to go to/go back to that unfortunately closed because of the pandemic.

Then, just as I was getting into the spirit of summer, the last leg of it decided to test all my emotions at once and that was another roller-coaster.

July was grey and overcast and I’m sure that also didn’t help.

Regardless, I still managed to do quite a few things, so here’s the list – for my own benefit, obviously. I know it seems like A Lot, but keep in mind I was off for 7 some weeks and some things were grouped within a day.

Ice cream places visited: Iconoglace, Hocheglacé, Unicone, Meu Meu, Armoire à glaces, Kameha, Riverside, Havre aux glaces, Pineault, Chocolat favoris, Calem, Koba, Sachère desserts, Ice cream glacée

I caught up again with the photo albums.

Got the second dose of the vaccine

Restaurants and food: Pigeon café, Espadon, Paramount, Sushi Sama, Thai Express, Drogheria Fine, Gérard, La Beignerie, Mitch Deli, Slice & Soda, Sushi Shop, Bête à pain, Guillaume, Parfum d’Asie, Ma poule mouillée

Outings and Activities: La Ronde, La grande roue, Downtown, Chinatown, Pointe à Callière, Old Port, Oratoire St-Joseph, Square Victoria, Avenue Mt-Royal, Hochelaga, watched the meteor shower and saw some on two nights, Jean-Talon Market, walked on the back of Mont-Royal, supper at Gougoune’s, Mt-Tremblant, La fromagerie St-François, boat ride, Georgie’s House – twice!, le Petit navire, plage du Quai de l’Horlogex3, Bassin Peel, Atwater Market, Pink & Green house, walked in the Village, Habitat 67, lookout du Quai de Montréal, Sunflower farm

Friends and hangouts: Somehow or other, I managed to make new friends on the day that I went to the museum and on le Petit navire. I also had one dinner with my camp crew, went to La Ronde with a friend I hadn’t seen in years, had dinner with another friend and ice cream with another.

I ran into some old friends from camp at the pool, a friend from school at the la Grande roue, and a friend from university while I was out and about. (And two students – one from 6 years ago and another from this past year. Lol.)

Dad and I finally built the new shed. I fixed my Mom’s mug.

Pool: 11x – the municipal pool I used to go to when I worked at camp reopened and they did a really good job on it.

In the early stages of summer, the Habs were still in what feels like a fever dream of a playoff run and I decided to splurge and get my name added on my jersey.

Painted nails: 3

Painted plant boxes: 5

I took care of my plants and added a few more to the collection.... oups. I also grew sunflowers from seed – and barely got to enjoy them as they unfortunately got eaten L

Despite everything, I managed to write some fics and work on some AUs, but I would have liked to do more.

I also managed to do some art, but even that felt like it wasn’t the amount of what I would have liked.

I chilled in my hammock as well.

I went on some bike rides, but equally feel that compared to past years, I didn’t go as often or as far as usual...

Reading (re): Antique Bakery, I splurged and bought all the Sailor Moon mangas and read them, booklet on SAQ, No Time like the Future, started two other books as well that I did not finish.

Watched: Sailor Moon 90s anime, We are Lady Parts!, caught up on some stuff on the PVR, Schitt’s Creek, Green Book

Mended stuff that had been waiting for ages for some TLC

Started the MOOC on Indigenous Studies

FINALLY FINISHED FAKE FIGUARY.

Finished updating my plant documents. Finally.

Went to see my auntie I hadn’t seen since – Xmas 2019 lol. Went to my godparents’ house, and mom’s friend came over for dinner.

And obviously, did some puttering around and cleaning at home and such. Got stuff ready for the new school year...

All in all, this summer had its moments. The fact that I knew where I was going to be working before the end of summer kind of was a good and bad thing. Obvs knowing where I’d be was good, but it also didn’t let me fully disconnect. Inevitably, I felt as though I was already behind but I firmly told myself that no – I was on vacation, too bad for the rest.

I was also able to do some things that I’d never done before – visit landmarks of the city that I hadn’t seen before and that was nice. Going back to eat at a restaurant was nice and going up north for the day was pleasant. I would have liked to see more of my friends, but it seems everyone is allergic to hanging out and too busy for me lol. Still, I feel like this summer was all over the place. Between the weather – which wasn’t our usual, the state of things in the world and my own mood, it was – ok, but could have been better.

Tomorrow I go back to teaching and with the pandemic still going, I’m annoyed that whatever hype I had has been slowly eaten away by the general stupidity of people in regards to Covid. But that’s an issue for another day.

Here’s to you summer 2021, until next time.

#etc.

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blankdblank · 4 years

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Brother Dearest Pt 27

Portia in the room beside yours once in the hall smiled taking your side saying, “Hey there Bunny.”

In a giggle you replied, “Hey Portia. Where are you off to?”

“Art History, you?”

“Same,”

“Ooh, goody, we can sit together and head to lunch after. They do have a cafeteria here and on the Men’s Campus, but I know there’s a nice little diner nearby that my driver can take us to.”

“Sounds good.” You replied noticing her looking you over curiously.

“Do you have a driver?”

“No, took the subway.”

“Alone?!”

You shook your head, “No, James and his brother Victor came with me. But I’ve taken the subway alone before.”

“Some ladies have bikes, would that be easier?”

“For me? No. I live in Brooklyn. It’s half an hour on the subway.”

“That far? You can’t move closer?”

“I grew up in Brooklyn, plus for what it cost to buy my old home we couldn’t afford half the space in Manhattan.”

“How big is your place? We have a penthouse apartment with five bedrooms and the most incredible view from the second floor.”

“Five story brownstone, James and Victor bought the building we remodeled over the summer.”

“The whole building?!”

You nodded, “I was a bit stunned but the whole block was up for sale nearly and we used to have an apartment in the building growing up but they really wanted to give me a good home while I study with room for all of us.”

“We are just going to have to plan a dinner to have you all over so Daddy can meet you all and Preston can come out to meet up with you again.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Her hand tapped yours saying, “And when your home is ready do let us know.”

“It is ready. Had our Priest over on Sunday, first in town outside of Eddie’s family. Starting to build up a sort of competition to see who can get invited first.”

A giggle escaped her and she said in rounding another corner drawing your eyes to the groups of ladies looking between the two of you wondering why you were again speaking to the woman in the bright yellow dress and white cardigan beside you, bright and sunny with pearls around her neck and on studs in her ears. “In no time we’ll have steady teas and dinners around our study groups, because I know one of the only ways I am getting through my language course, and I have no clue what is up with that History Professor.”

You giggled again, “Did you sign the contract?”

“Yes, Daddy didn’t raise a quitter.”

“Well if you need a museum buddy I practically live there and I know the half off days and free days by heart.”

At the doors she paused looking at you when you pulled it open for the both of you, “Why would you know the free days?”

“Oh honey, my parents came here from Ireland. First generation American, free days and coupons are a second language to me. Practically lived in the Public Library before the war.” You looked her over stepping with her through the door, “I have some investments now, much better off. New to having money, part of why the guys wanted to keep me back in my hometown.”

“Where do you like to sit?” Together you compromised to five steps up near to the aisle in the far right section of the tiered seating below the projector. Once there she said, “Well I can’t wait to have somebody from New York show me what I might have missed out on.” Her eyes dropped to your bag as she said showing you her own sunflower coated carpet bag, “Would you look at that. Great minds and all that,” she smiled at you making you giggle to yourself pulling out a fresh notepad.

“Victor surprised me with it yesterday.”

All through the seating that was barely half filled the other ladies filled their seats and your head tilted to shift your braided ponytail off your shoulder hearing whispers of others commenting on your choice of a friend. Once the Professor began to speak one of the upper classmen claimed the slide box and it was straight to work with almost every student around you giving an answer while you gained glances from others wondering if you had known the answers at all. Only Portia however could see that you were writing out the names of each and their origins and dates moments after the image had popped up.

Out of nowhere silence came with a surrealist painting to throw off the other ladies with something not on the syllabus. Wetting your lips you raised your hand drawing the eyes of the formerly smirking Professor’s eyes to you in the lowering of your hand again. “La persistencia de la memoria,” parting her lips, “Also known as, The Persistence of Memory, Painted by Salvador Dalí in 1931.”

Shifting on her feet she asked, “How-?”

“It’s been hanging in the MoMA since 1934. One of the most recognizable works of Surrealism.”

“Do you prefer Surrealism?”

“Depends on the piece and subject. I do enjoy the imagination behind it. I would rather have that on my wall over paint splatters or Picasso, but that’s just me.”

With a nod she took a second glance your way and had the slide switched over with scattered naming of the next row of paintings that when others couldn’t again you were looked to showing that you’d studied up well outside what was expected to be covered. The last thing she said was, “For your first assignment I want each of you to sit down and write me four pages on a piece of artwork that was in your house growing up. What the subject was, style and most importantly what the piece meant to you and affected your family each day. Due in our next class.”

Tilting your head in a hushed sigh you copied the assignment in your daily planner you added to your bag with everything else. Portia stood first with you to follow her to the aisle as she said, “The car should be by that lovely tulip garden for us.”

“You don’t approve of my assignment?” The Professor asked when you were passing her by low enough to not cause a scene with only you two to hear it.

Smiling at her you replied, “I will have it for you on Thursday. Have a nice day, Professor.” Her eyes followed you to the door curious about your reaction and what it meant.

Waiting on the other side of the door a group of ladies you remembered with a few clubs trying to recruit you smiled asking, “Bunny, were you heading to the cafeteria?”

“Actually we were heading to a diner nearby campus if you wanted to come.”

Timid shakes of heads came and another in the group said, “We brought our lunches, maybe another time.”

You nodded and returned their waves as they walked away. Portia in your continued path onwards sighed saying, “I don’t think I’m going to make many friends here.”

“Well you’ll do better than me no doubt. I tend to be unpopular in school. They’ll see how bubbly and sweet you are and snatch you up.”

“Everyone knows your name, you are in the papers. You met the President and a King who are both invited to your wedding.” She fired back playfully.

“Doesn’t make me fun enough to entertain hundreds of people expecting to be friends with me for hopes of getting closer to some imaginary famous group of friends I might have for having met a President and a King. Up in Canada I work in a diner, you are the closest person I could count to some elite list of connections I could boast on.”

Her arm eased through yours and she squeaked out, “That is so sweet of you to say,” making you giggle and watch the path she led you on to memorize, “Have you picked any clubs yet?”

“No, not yet. No doubt they will be circling this week.”

“I have a synchronized swimming tryout after my last class at two.”

“Sounds like fun for you.”

Smiling at you she said, “You don’t want to try it?”

“I’m not the best swimmer. Nearly drowned a couple times in the public pool when I was little. I swim up in the ponds up in Canada on their land.”

Looking you over she asked, “Have you, lived with James long?”

“Well we lost our apartment in Canada when Eddie got drafted, we moved on base, so when we discharged we didn’t have a home to go to.”

“Oh,”

“And for years through the war they had said we could move in with James and Victor. I know living together is sort of a timid subject for some people.”

Shaking her head she said, “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never assume anything improper. Eddie lives with you too?”

“Yes, him, his wife Dawn and son Teddy have their own floor in our place.”

She gasped, “You’re an auntie?! Congratulations!”

You giggled again, “Thank you, he’s crawling already and getting onto solid food. Absolutely love him.”

Black and polished a car was waiting and to the shock of people looking on you were seen climbing into the car after Portia. All over campus the elite of the North seemed to be holding a common thought that the Southern money Heiress was to be kept at arms length while you were to be drawn into the fold as per the alumni’s orders. A thought clearly needing to be adjusted if you continued your interest in getting to know the social outcast.

Quaint and open the diner sat with more students who waved to you luring you both to them, or more precisely the half booth table beside theirs. In a try to help her gain some friends you bubbled out your personality to do so, politely to the waitress you spoke ordering and made sure to tip well through the conversation centering around classes you had and Professors who seemed to be difficult or up to trying for adding the most work to the course load as possible.

“How are you taking 14 courses?” One of the most diligent on recruiting you for her club asked bewildered at her nine that seemed to be stressful for her third year.

“Not all of them are every day. Some are one semester.”

“What do you have next?”

“Um, Philosophy on the Men’s Campus. Then back to Barnard for Mythology.”

“That’s a jump.”

You giggled saying, “Possibly. I have my other two Columbia courses tomorrow.”

Portia, “Three classes with the men?” Portia asked making you smirk and slice off another piece of your meal.

One of the other ladies said tapping her finger to her bare ring finger, “She already has her fella.”

Her friend next to her said, “But could always put in a good word for us single ladies.”

Giggling again you said lifting your fork, “If I hear any guys wanting a dame I’ll tell them about the diner for lunch.” Earning giggles and squeals in easing the food between your lips.

“Any thoughts on clubs yet?” Luring eyes to you again.

“Um, not exactly. I know Portia is trying for synchronized swimming.” Moods slightly deflated a moment until you said, “My future brother in law, Victor, taught me how to develop film, and I have my brother Steve’s camera, so maybe a photography course, but I think they only have that for Columbia guys.”

The head club lady shook her head, “No, no, we have one. They work with the paper and yearbooks mostly, however their instructor is out until tomorrow. What sort of camera is it?”

“An old Kodiak Vigilant Junior. Over ten years old, but Victor helped me to clean it up maintain the hinge and everything. Unless they require a newer one, then no doubt he’ll go and buy me the biggest best one out there.”

“Oh how sweet.”

“Well I started my job at the diner in Canada and they bought me a purse, started my ged course and they bought me a new typewriter. Start here they bought me my bag. If they had their way there would be a line of presents to circle the block for me when I get home.”

Portia patted your arm, “You picked a great man to marry.” Gaining agreeing nods from the group.

More clubs came up in conversation until the time was checked and on your feet the head of the group said in a pat on your arm, “I’ll check with Julie and send her your way about the photography club she’ll give you the basics.”

Her friend said, “And for an art club we do have a comic section in the paper that we lost our artist for last year, also handles the portraits added to stories for Professors and locations and such. I’ll let Amber know to add your name to the list. Might need some sketches to see what your skill level is if she’s found some more names to go against.”

“Thank you.” You said splitting from the others and joining Portia to her car again.

“That was fun,” she said on the drive back where you saw she had the driver drop you at the men’s campus.

“Yes, maybe that might calm things a bit.”

“Who knows we might get on the paper together. Had an article back home on ours. Handy tips for ladies around the house. Had all the girls wanting to build their own shoe cubbies.”

“One way to do it,” making her giggle and turn her head subtly primping seeing curious guys stealing glances at the car. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Any time. Hopefully I can run into you again after school.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

You said with a wave sliding to the door you opened to climb out seeing a nearby guy peer inside and once you were up at Portia’s statement of, “Just dropping my friend Bunny. But thank you,”

“Timothy,” Offering his hand that she shook.

Nodding her head saying, “Well thank you, Timothy.” Waving at him as he closed the door smiling at her while you passed through parting groups of guys looking you over wondering where you were headed.

Passing by Professor Crane’s class you found your way to another tiered set of seating with long tables you sat on the aisle in the second row of the first section of desks you reached hopefully ensuring nobody absurdly tall would block your view. Packed to the brim this class seemed to be with the other ladies choosing to sit in your row and the one in front of yours filling those five seats with the men taking up the rest of the space. The Professor knew this might not be one of the most female populated courses but even sticking to his stern teaching methods he tried to encourage the few females who would sign up to possibly encourage others to sign up the next year.

Right off the bat he stirred up a debate that got heated to the point one of the guys headed to the rows of books along the walls to find his proof for his opponent only to glance your way ending his huffing battle trying to flip through the hefty book when you gave him the page and paragraph number. Carrying it to the one he was arguing he asked you, “How’d you do that?”

Meeting his eye you replied, “I remember everything I read.”

“Everything?” He asked.

And you repeated, “Everything.”

“Must come in handy.” Another guy said.

To which you replied, “No, it would be handy if you could do it, it’s just a trick when I do it, like a bear on a unicycle.”

The Professor said, “Gender topics will be head on next semester.” He grinned at you, “But fair point all the same Miss Pear.”

“Miss Pear,” another male student said, “Bunny Pear? Who won the Medal of Honor, that Bunny Pear?”

Another guy said, “I read about you, said you tore Nazi planes out of the air. How’d you do it?”

“Magnets.”

Another guy scoffed saying, “Impossible.”

“So were airplanes not so long ago until the Wright Brothers got it to work.”

“And you didn’t have any help? None at all?”

Another glance back had your eyes on the doubter who scoffed at your smirk, “There goes that bear on a unicycle again. Couldn’t possibly have a brain and wear dresses, must have stolen the credit,”

He murmured again, “Took more than credit-,”

“Oh yes, must have spent years on my back too to get home safely,” that had the guy paling when your eyes caught him in a harsh cold gaze, “Heard that one too. For men with fragile egos like yours who couldn’t possibly exist in a world where a woman could accomplish anything on her own it’d be easier to find a jellyfish in the ocean than an intelligent successful woman who hasn’t been called a whore.” That had the rest of the guys jeering and ladies blushing through their muffled giggles looking away as you kept your eyes fixed on his until he turned away.

Chuckling the Professor said clapping to help lull the students down again saying, “Looping around again.” Bringing the discussion back to another topic he wished to cover starting off what he hoped to be a good year of thorough open discussions and healthy debates. This was one class you knew you would take a bit part in verbally and for once you didn’t feel concerned about possibly doing that, feeling fully welcomed to do so by the Professor and cheerful students passing you on the way out. “Brilliant point.”

Breathily you chuckled lifting your books and bag saying, “Thank you, and sorry, I’m not certain if my wording was out of bounds.”

He chuckled again shaking his head, “When used academically no. Very well said. If I may, any plans on what field you might try for? Or a degree?”

“I know I want a Masters,” spreading his smile, “No clue on the subject yet.”

“Why Masters, you do know-,”

“That the percentage of women who earn one is 3.5% out of female college graduates, two percent lower than it is for men. Only two women have earned a Medal of Honor, one had it revoked because she wasn’t a woman in uniform. I’m the first female officer in Canadian Forces. My Dad wanted big things for me, I will settle for a Doctorate, but I am aiming for a Masters Degree.”

“Once you get to graduate school level I’ll keep my eyes peeled and you’ll have a vote from me in your favor to be accepted to Columbia.”

“I could go here full time?”

“For graduate courses, if you win a majority vote they would allow your transfer. Not common, but it is possible.”

“Thank you, thought I might have to triple my train time for Yale.” He shook his head as you eyed the next class coming in, “See you tomorrow, Professor.”

“See you tomorrow Miss Pear.” Nods from him welcomed his entering female students and in the hall you smiled rejoining your fellow female students who had lingered a few moments hoping to walk together assuming you were all headed back to the female campus.

“What are you off to?” You asked getting a varied set of answers.

One of them asked once you were out of the cramped halls to the open walkways again, “Did you get in trouble?”

Shaking your head you answered, “No, he merely asked what sort of degree I might be hoping for. I haven’t picked yet but I do know I want to go to graduate school.”

One of the women said, “Me as well. I was hoping for a counselor for children, maybe at a camp or a school.”

Another said, “Fifteen generations of men in my family were lawyers or judges, I have no brothers, I hoped to keep the tradition alive.”

A third said, “I read librarians require graduate courses, always wanted to work with books. Spent last summer helping to clean up at our library back home my grandmother is the librarian there.”

“I practically lived in the Public Library growing up. Such a lovely job.”

Back at the entrance the group split up and between streams of giggling women off to their dorms after their final class you paused at a peach clad woman smiling at you widely, “Kimmy told me you were interested in Photography club.”

“Yes, Julie, right?”

“Yes,” from the books pinned to her chest she brought out a sheet she passed you, “Tomorrow is our first meeting, at three, don’t forget your camera so our instructor can give it a once over. That has the room number and everything.”

“Okay, thank you.”

She hurried off to join her friends and you kept on going to your class pausing again to reach out for a paper a running redhead passed to you, “School paper meeting on Thursday at 3.”

“Thank you.”

“Bring some sketches.” Wetting your lower lip again towards your class slipping the paper against the books to your chest you hurried. Wide open the door sat and flashing a grin to Professor Randolph who was readying a set of papers he was to pass out to all of you.

Tiered desks waited in the oddly cramped theater style room with decorations of objects from various myths and cultures spread around the room with what turned out to be filled two thirds of the way. Around you in your chosen row more ladies from clubs settled hoping to make friends with you. Pages were handed back and in the lights turning off Professor Randolph walked to the lit up projector on a table a few feet from his desk aimed at the blank screen on the wall showing the Great Sphynx in Egypt.

“Ancient Egypt,” he began, “For the next few weeks we will be delving into this world and culture to explore the Gods that the people shaped their lives to please and serve to their dying breaths.” Mainly talking through the class he stole glances of various students taking notes throughout with sheets forgotten. Until the final few minutes when he turned the lights on and stated, “And for those of you who have not forgotten the sheets I passed out kindly fill those out as much as you can, we have nine minutes, no books I would like to see what you point of view is on the subject.”

Putting your notepad away you looked over the sheet and smirked at the first question, ‘Which Greek God would you prefer to leave your wife with while you stepped out to the shop; Zeus, Narcissus, Hephaestus, Dionysus?’

‘One traded his eye for knowledge, One gave birth to a six legged horse and other beasts tied to Ragnarok, One guards a rainbow bridge. Which name does not apply?

Loki, Njord, Heimdall, Odin.’

This question earned some scoffs for how simple it seemed only to be followed by another seemingly odd question.

‘Who would win in a poker game?

Bragi, Hod, Forseti?’

You barely got to fill out your answer when he said, “That is our class, I will take your pages on your way out.”

Before you could stand groups already planning their post school day plans hurried out nodding to the grinning Professor accepting each taking notice that you were merely waiting out the rest of the herd to leave to not be in the way. Back in your hold your books and bag settled post subtle shift of your skirt over your thighs to straighten it with sheet in hand you made your way down to the Professor now at his desk. “Thank you,” he said turning as you arrived to accept the sheet you held out for him, taking notice of your eyes dropping to the familiar pendant around his neck draped on top of his tie.

“Sorry, Professor, but where did you get that pendant?”

Settling your sheet on top of the others he added to his bag he grinned to say, “My father was given this by a Queen from a, far away land you probably haven’t heard of.”

His eyes fixed on yours eyeing the pear tree centered on the pendant with runes all around it hinting to markings in one of your dreams of your former life with James. The same pendant your father used to keep with him at all times only showing it to you before he died. “My Dad had one. Do they sell them? He was buried with his.”

“No, no one sells them. However I would love to share about the land sometime if you would agree?”

You nodded and said, “That would be nice, thank you.”

Motioning his hand to the side he said, “Shall I walk you out?”

“Sure,”

“Already packed up, thought I would stop for something to eat. My lunch was interrupted.”

“That’s no fun. I got poached for mine.” He glanced at you curiously and you giggled out, “Clubs are determined to claim me. Tomorrow Photography and I have to do some sketches to give to the paper to see if I’ll fit for their comics and illustrations. Doubt I would.”

“I would not bet on that, the last one was quite ghastly from what I have looked up, did a rendering of the Dean ended up nearly suspended.” Making you giggle to yourself in his soft chuckle. Passing through the emptying hall he asked, “If I might ask, Pear is an interesting surname, do you know where it originates from?”

“Oh, um, when Eddie took custody of me we picked to change our names to Pear. From the medallion actually. Dad used to say he was born under the pear tree in the center of it, that it was unlike any other pear tree on the planet. Somehow alive.”

Tapping his medallion he said, “The Queen of that land was the source of this tree. It sprouted in her first breath, and after each battle she and her children fought those would sprout up in the battle field.”

Smirking at him you said, “Is that culture on our syllabus?”

“No, in fact no one believes those lands to even exist.”

“Then where did the medallions come from?”

He pointed at you, “Exactly.”

Smiling as you did not noticing one of the other female Professors watching you pass by her classroom having watched from your tours and enrolling how fixed on befriending you he seemed to be. Just like the club members tasked to poach you to their elite numbers. “Do you give many exams?”

“No, not many. One a month most likely, small quizzes in between with mini essays. I have to admit I am not overly fond of grading compared to delving into mythologies, though Egyptian culture has the most quizzes merely on the glyphs and other details.”

“Sounds good, haven’t gotten to Egyptian culture yet so I am learning a great deal.”

Avoiding students you answered questions about your other classes you had around his the following day for the rest of the way to the front entrance, where just across from you on a bench James and Victor stood catching sight of you exiting the school. Their grins spread in your approach and Professor Randolph nodded his head, “James, Victor, lovely to see you. Since you two are here I shall leave her to your watch I am off to eat before I am drug back for another meeting on simple politics, which I simply abhor, everything is always politics at those things.” Tottering off down the walkway behind Victor’s back to avoid the sight of another Professor to reach his car the three of you chuckled and turned homewards.

Victor grinning said, “So, how did it go?”

“Not bad. History will be strict, we had a lovely discussion on the gold rush and the crossing of mountain ranges and the effects on everything from social status to clothes and market values, distribution both medical and otherwise. Leading to the jump in crime and of course the rising profiteering of the funeral business.”

“Of course,” James chuckled out. “She bring that up or did you?”

“Me, she asked me what my opinion was on the gold rush, I asked which part and then elaborated at her continued confusion.”

Victor nodded, “Italian and Latin then? Since you insist on both this year.”

“Well I need both so I can load up on Lit courses for my second semester courses and next year as well. Technically I don’t need two languages for credits, but the Italian for the language and the Latin can go for another credit for my Lit Masters.”

James beamed at you, “Full Masters degree, I’m glad to hear you’ve decided.” Accepting hold of your books finally subtly eyeing the sheets with notes of times and locations for your club meetings.

His eyes shifted to you again as you said, “Italian should be fine but I hear my Latin Professor likes to be friendly, but he seems to enjoy drawing out excitement from students in class.” You wet your lower lip and said, “Art History was next, everyone seemed to know everything on the slides until she got to the Surrealist genre not on the syllabus. Which I knew, and she seemed stunned I knew. Asked me about my preference on Surrealist paintings and I said they seem more imaginative than paint splatters and I prefer them to Picasso’s.”

Victor, “Agreed.” Earning a nod from James. “How was Miss Portia?”

“Good, she’s in the class too, finally got to the topic of me not being from money and possibly being more boring than others give me credit for when I mentioned free days and half off days to museums and such. But she’s set on tea visits at her place and study groups and possibly dinners ahead. They have a five bedroom penthouse in Manhattan, her brother’s name is Preston, still don’t recall the name. I’ll have to see him.”

James, “I’m still putting my money on Mr Biscuits.”

Victor, “Did she have that rough a time in Art History?”

“No, mainly her language course she said she’d need help in. Nothing hard so far except our first assignment.”

James, “How so?”

“We have to write four pages on a piece of artwork that was in our homes growing up and how it touched our lives and families.”

They both said, “Oh,”

“I think I can work something up about my mural of stars. She said it doesn’t have to be a big name to count.”

Victor, “I’m certain it will be a wonderful paper.”

“Well, it was either that or the wallpaper design Steve sketched on the wall.” You let out a breath and said, “Anyways, lunch was fine, Portia had us driven to a diner where a group of girls were there, sat by them to push the inevitable, and to try and help her get some friends, two different worlds of money don’t mix it seems. We get to talking and they bring up clubs and Portia is joining sync swimming, I told her I’ve had rough history with water or I’d try it. Then the head club girl seemed about in tears so I mentioned your dark room and that I thought the only photography club was for the guys,”

Victor, “Ooh, nice choice.”

“But she said they have one and it mainly works with the paper and yearbook,”

James, “Very nice.”

“The instructor is out, can’t recall why right now, but they meet tomorrow so she said she would inform a Julie to inform me about the club. Then it gets brought up Eddie is on the paper and I might do some cartoons, which led into those little illustrations for the paper, which is meeting on Thursday. So I have to sketch some things up and bring them on Thursday so they can go over them against some list of other possible applicants for the job.”

The pair said, “You’ll get it.”

You rolled your eyes and Victor asked, “So, photography club,”

“Before you say buy me a camera I’ll just take Steve’s. Should be fine. Poor thing has been in a box for ages.”

James, “Yearbook, paper, photography club, great mix to your credits.”

Victor, “Not to mention your Masters.”

“Ooh, I talked to my Philosophy Professor after class and he said that for my graduate courses they can vote as the staff to accept my transfer to Columbia graduate courses. Said I’d have his vote.”

James, “On the first day?”

Victor, “Must have left a mark on him. How did class go?”

“Rather well actually. He brought up some topics and let us debate, my memory came up in helping a student find the quote he wanted and he said that was handy, I said for a man it’s handy for me it’s more along the lines of a trick, like a bear on a unicycle.”

Victor, “Hmm,”

“Anyways, Professor says we’ll cover gender later on but compliments me, another student recognizes my name asks how I managed to tear planes out of the sky I said magnets.”

James, “This can only go well.”

“He said impossible, I said so were planes until the Wright Brothers made them.”

Victor, “Well done.”

You giggled adding, “Another mumbled something after I said that I managed it on my own that I had another sort of help to get through the war-,”

James and Victor paused, “Who am I hitting?”

Patting their arms you said, “It gets better,”

Victor, “Please tell me he’s dead or bleeding.”

“I told him that for a man with such a fragile ego as his not to believe a woman could manage on her own it would be easier to find a jellyfish in the ocean than to find an intelligent successful woman who hasn’t been called a whore.”

Unable to help it the pair chortles and smoothed their hands over their mouths to hide their proud grins, “Even the Professor said my argument was brilliant and the guys in class lost it jeering at him. Of course I clarified I was uncertain on the use of the term whore in class to the Professor afterwards but he said academically it is acceptable, just not in a slur hurled at another student. Then we talked about my plans going forward. He did try to let me know how few women do get above a four year degree.”

Victor, “3.5%, that I remember from when you brought it up,”

“Which I pointed out to him as it’s only 2% below men, and the other achievements I have gotten, said I would settle for a Doctorate.”

They stepped forward along with you chuckling with James easing his arm around your back, “There’s the vote,”

Victor, “You are going to be stunning. Now, what are you sketching once your paper is done?”

“Not sure, thought I might be able to catch you and the puppies napping again.”

Victor chuckled resting his hand on your back in a stolen kiss to your forehead once James had leaned back from kissing your cheek, “That can be arranged, Pipsqueak.”

Pt 28

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed #Eddie Brock x OC #Venom #First Day of School Pt 2

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opaquestrategies · 4 years

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2020 in review

tagged by @7rc --thank you, I love doing these kinds of things. and since i always write too much for them, the list is under the cut.

Top 5 movies I saw this year:

Emma. (last film I saw in a theater!)

Roman Holiday (hOW did it take me this long to watch this. how is roman holiday not more embedded as a fanfic au plot trope? a pure delight.)

The Host (went through all the Bong Joon Ho movies I could find after seeing Parasite and this one was my favorite. B-movie but make it art!)

Naussica of the Valley of the Wind / The Castle of Cagliostro / Porco Rosso (As of this year, I’ve watched every Miyazaki movie! all three of the ones I caught up with are great, and I can’t bring myself to choose between them.)

The Hateful Eight (we hooked our laptop up to our stereo to watch this after Liminal Election Week and it was so cathartic to live in a world with different, more visceral problems and to see people in lockdown for a different reason)

Top 5 TV shows I watched this year:

Halt and Catch Fire (I didn’t post much about this show at all when I watched it in June because it was so good that I watched all four seasons in one weekend. Stick with it thru the first season where it’s still just “diet 80s Mad Men and Lee Pace and MacKenzie Davis are there” and you’ll get a show that’s also a stunning mediation on how people you’ve grown apart from can still be part of you even after time changes both of you several times over and what it means to be able to forgive and be forgiven. you’ll feel like you lived a lifetime after finishing this.)

The Simpsons (first nine seasons! this is what I watched over the summer when packing up the apartment I’d lived in for four years)

What We Do in the Shadows (the first season was a great time, but somewhere around the Jackie Daytona episode was when I realized I was watching a masterclass sitcom)

Derry Girls (this was the perfect stress-barricading watch for the first week of quarantine! absolutely sublime.)

Simone Giertz’s youtube channel (loved the consistent experience of being able to watch a cute, talented woman follow the inscrutable exhortations of her soul, especially when those exhortations were things like “make a coffee table out of matches and then light those matches,” “build a robot deer I can hunt with a compound bow” and “build a scissor lamp.” her whole spirit of “yeah, fuck it, I’m just gonna manifest this thing because I want to” is infectious and brought a lot of joy back into covid summer)

Top 5 Songs:

Choose literally any Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters track and insert it here

Fleetwood Mac - “Angel”

Throwing Muses - “Not Too Soon”

Adrienne Lenker - “Anything”

Haim - “Don’t Wanna”

Top 5 Books I Read This Year:

The first four Earthsea books by Ursula Le Guin, with special mentions to The Tombs of Atuan and Tehanu which both gave me the delightful “I am spending a week just living in this book and lapping it down as if it’s water” experience. #tenarhive.

The Secret History by Donna Tartt. I was going to describe this novel where pretentious students form a Greek cult and then murder the weak link of the squad as “fun” which seems a little incongruous but like...it’s a taut, perfectly paced thriller and I got to understand the Greek allusions in it and there was some delicious dramatic irony in how the book’s narrated. so yeah, i did have fun with it. it’s fun.

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin. Baldwin can write epigrammatically and that’s how I first encountered him, as a quotation. But the reason he gets quoted is because he makes sure to never simplify his ideas or reduce the world to something less complex than it really is, even when he’s also going for pith and wit. And of course, like all writers, he improves all the more with context. As a Christian, I found his critique of how the church has let itself be used as a tool of white supremacy particularly lucid and helpful.

Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. “Fictional oral history” is such a fun and breezy conceit for a novel and I tore through this one in a day during the first week of quarantine. a lovely little pastiche of some very familiar tropes if you happen to love the archetypes and mythology of popular music and/or are a boomer. this is what is responsible for the Fleetwood Mac.

Pyrrhus and Cineas by Simone de Beauvoir. I leaned on this little essay A LOT for the honors thesis I spent this year writing and reread it three times. It’s such a clever and intriguing discussion of why we bother doing anything at all or why we should choose one goal over another when it all just ends in us dying anyway, which are themes that really hit this year. The last paragraph of the first part always gives me chills.

Top 5 positive things that happened to me in 2020:

this was back in the part of 2020 that isn’t part of 2020, but I had one really fantastic 48 hours back in February where I helped host the speakers my job invited to a philosophy of religion conference, went to two really nice dinners, talked about so many interesting things, and then went on a impromptu outing with an art history major to see a pop art exhibit.

I participated in several different classes and reading groups, mostly organized by two of our professors, that gave me something to do over the year other than doomscroll and vegetate. I read Kafka, Nietzsche, Toni Morrison, Camus, Philip K. Dick, and Foucault for the first time over the course of these and it was a precious gift to have a built-in venue for social interaction when I was stuck in an apartment by myself.

I moved to an apartment in another city with one of my best friends to ride out quarantine together and that decision has been such a boon for my mental health in the back half of this year. finding the place was a nightmare, but it’s in a nice neighborhood that has a beautiful park and a sculpture garden in walking distance and it was wonderful to put up art and make the place our own. it was a refreshing and much needed change in a year when change was hard to come by.

I used online school to go home for thanksgiving for the first time since I moved away and then just stayed for the rest of the holidays. I usually only get three weeks down here on winter break, so it was nice to have a month and a half instead.

I graduated from college! and one silver lining of having no idea what 2021 is going to look like is that I’m forced to take at least a semester break to heal from the burn out instead of automatically starting the application cycle for grad school (although the “oh I have no idea what I’m going to do about grad school” is dawning on me and figuring that out will be a huge part of whatever happens next year).

i feel weird tagging people to think back about this last year now that we’re safely out of it? like don’t go back into 2020, that’s where the 2020 is! but, if you want to, i’m tagging @justthatspiffy @aahsoka @theraisincouncil @cosm-i @letsoulswander and you, if you also wanna revisit this kind of stuff.

#asks #2020

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kaimaciel · 4 years

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Love is a fire that burns unseen

Historical based fanfic regarding the wildfires of 2017.

I wrote this a few years ago. I've been wanting to write about my country in a Hetalia story for a while. I was living near one of the great fires that destroyed so many forests and homes. No one I loved was hurt, but there were entire families that were destroyed by these fires. The summer of 2017 felt like a neverending nightmare.

We felt desperate and alone. Thankfully, we managed to stop the fires with the help of our brave firefighters and the help from other countries like Spain, though the scars from the fires will take years to heal.

If Portugal was a person, his whole back would have been burned, which is where the idea for this story came from. I hope you like it.

Characters: Portugal, Spain, Macau, Brazil, Angola, France, England. Cameos from North Italy, Germany and Romano.

Love is a fire that burns unseen,

A wound that aches yet isn't felt,

An always discontent contentment,

A pain that rages without hurting,

A longing for nothing but to long,

A loneliness in the midst of people,

A never feeling pleased when pleased,

A passion that gains when lost in thought.

Luis Vaz de Camões, The Lusiads

2017

He could still hear them screaming. Every time he let his mind wander, Portugal could hear the screams of his people trapped by smoke and fire. Men and women screaming for their lives, watching helplessly as their homes and fields burned to ash. Children crying for their parents, mothers, and fathers screaming for their children.

Some had been trapped inside their cars, unable to escape the fire.

Wincing, he buried his nails on his palms to drive those thoughts away and once again tried to listen to the world meeting in front of him. America was trading words with Russia again. Like many times before, Ivan denied knowing anything that Alfred was talking about. This meeting was going to take a while and everyone already looked tired and depressed.

Portugal tried to listen to his fellow countries, but his burnt back was aching badly under his heavy black suit and his head felt heavy and sluggish.

Why was he in this meeting at all? He knew it was just a formal courtesy. Many of the countries present didn't even know who he was, and those who did know didn't think much of him.

He was a failure. The fact that he had once been an Empire was laughable considering how much he had failed as a country. He would never be like Spain, France or England. He should never have tried.

Speaking of which, Portugal's green eyes widened as he watched England rise from his seat and walk towards the podium.

It had been 631 years since the Treaty of Windsor when Portugal and England had forged their alliance. He could still remember that day vividly: young, belligerent England, with his blond hair and bright green eyes, promising to help him kick Spain's ass out of his territory. They both promised to watch each other’s back as allies and friends forever.

Portugal had been happy, finally having a friend on his side against Spain's many, many, many attempts to conquer him. And not just any friend. England! It made sense strategically, Spain and later France and always been a pain on both their necks, but now Portugal didn't have to fight them alone.

Watching England now, he tried to catch his friend's eyes. He heard the smoke from the fires had reached the English shores, painting their skies red. He had hoped England would call him, ask him if he was alright, but he got no word.

Portugal lowered his head, facing his bandaged hands in front of him. He understood though, England had his fair share of problems, especially now with Brexit and a very tense political climate. Arthur was under a lot of stress and he looked miserable.

If Portugal wanted to be honest with himself, he always knew their friendship was very one-sided. He had needed England more than England had needed him, and he knew he could never measure up to his friend's caliber. Sometimes, he had the feeling England felt embarrassed by the treaty, wishing he had made an alliance with a better, richer, stronger country instead.

No friendship ever lasted forever.

The cellphone in his pants' pocket buzzed, forcing Portugal to pick it up. He felt a lump inside his throat when he saw it was from one of his superiors.

Trying to appear calm, he silently rose from his seat and walked out of the white meeting room. England was having a very heated argument with France and Germany, so no one even noticed that he had left.

Finally, alone in a corridor, Portugal took a deep breath and finally took the call. As he expected, he was greeted by his superior's angry voice. They asked about the fires, how he could have allowed this to happen, how he was going to get the money to rebuild everything that had been destroyed.

"I'll get the money... somehow. I just need a little time," he answered, feeling his legs shaking. "And I will do better from now on. You have my word."

"Your word? Every year we go through this! Fires and more fires because you don't clean the forests properly!"

"There were... suspicions about arson..."

"I don't care if it was arson! That only proves that you can't even look after yourself!"

Portugal bit his lower lip. The superior was right. Every year there were fires and every year he promised he was going to prevent them. Do better.

He couldn't keep his promise. Now, his people were hurt, most of his forests were gone, and it was all his fault.

"The Pine Forest of Leiria..." he whispered.

"Gone! It's all gone!"

Portugal's mouth dropped. "All... all of it?"

"About 80% is gone."

His hands began to shake. The Pine Forest, all those tall and green pine trees, planted by the shore to protect the crops from the sands, the trees he had used to build the Caravelas, so wherever he was sailing it always felt like home.

Now it was gone.

His superior kept barking on the phone, but Portugal could barely listen. His legs gave away and he slid down to the ground, his vision blurry as he panted. He was burning, just like the trees and the fields and his people...

"... ashamed to be called a European country... world's laughing stock... a nobody..."

The cellphone slipped from Portugal's hands and lied face down on the expensive carpet, muffling the sound of his superior's voice. He pressed his sweaty forehead against the wall, his brown hair already wet, and thought of the Atlantic Ocean, it's cold waves against his aching skin, the wind blowing his long hair, the white sails of the Caravelas above him.

Love is a fire that burns unseen,

A wound that aches yet isn't felt,

An always discontent contentment,

A pain that rages without hurting

He woke up lying on his stomach on something soft, with a cool breeze on his face from an open window, white curtains blowing softly.

"Portugal? Are you awake?"

Slowly, he raised his green eyes and found a young Asian man with kind light-brown eyes staring back under a pair of glasses.

"Macau?"

His former colony smiled and pulled a chair. "How are you feeling?"

Portugal tried to stand up, but a strong hand pushed him down against the soft bed.

"Lie down! I don't want you to faint again," a firm woman's voice said on his left side, forcing the older country to turn his head to face her.

A young black woman was holding bandages and ointments on her hands, her brown eyes focused on Portugal's burnt back as she worked. A yellow ribbon kept her long hair from falling down her face.

"Hello, Angola," Portugal said with a weak smile.

Angola sighed but kept working on cleaning and bandaging his back.

"What were you thinking? Coming here when you're this hurt?" she asked him.

Portugal lowered his eyes. "I thought I should show up... But you're right, I shouldn't have come."

"Damn right, you shouldn't!" an angry voice cried out from outside the hotel room. It seemed its source was leaning against the door.

"Brazil?" Portugal asked.

Even though he couldn't see him, Portugal could almost see Brazil's green eyes roll. "No, it's Fafá de Belém. Of course it's me!"

Macau smiled as he leaned over his adopted older brother. "When we heard that you had collapsed, Angola and I came running. Brazil overheard us and insisted on coming too."

"I did not insist on coming! I just wanted to make sure the old man was dead!" Brazil cried out. "So I could throw a party!"

"He was praying the Rosary up until a few minutes ago," Angola said.

"I was praying for that thieving bastard to die!"

"I could hear him crying."

"I wasn't fucking crying, Angola! Shut up!"

Macau chuckled while Angola simply shrugged and continued bandaging Portugal's back, while Brazil sulked on the other side of the door. After a few minutes, Angola was done, and Portugal was able to raise his head to face his former colonies, his former adopted brothers, and sister.

"Thank you for coming, Angola. Macau," he moved his head in the doors direction and shouted. "You too, Brazil."

"I didn't come help you, babaca!" the South American country shouted back.

Rolling her eyes, Angola rose from her chair. "Well, you should be alright now. Get some rest."

"Thank you, Angola."

Macau also stood up and placed a heavy envelope on Portugal's hands. The older country's eyes widened when he realized it was money.

"Macau! I... thank you, but I can't accept this!" Portugal said, shaking his head and trying to give back the money, but Macau wouldn't take it.

"It's not much, but I want help you rebuild what the fires took."

"I can't take your money, Macau. You've done enough for me. I don't know how to repay you."

"Please, don't let your pride get in the way. I don't want you to repay me, I want to help. You're family," Macau said, placing his hand on Portugal's shoulder. "We'll always be family. Let me help you, dàgē."

Slowly, Portugal's hand closed around the envelope, his eyes brimming with tears. Even though he tried to control his emotions, tears were very difficult for him to stop.

"Obrigado."

"Stop sucking up to the old man, Macau!" Brazil yelled from the other side of the door.

"That's it!" Angola opened the door, causing a young, tanned man to fall to the room's floor. He quickly stood up, glaring at his adopted sister.

"What the fuck, Angola?!"

"That's what you get for being a jealous brat."

"Jealous?! I'm not jealous!" Brazil's eyes caught sight of Portugal's burnt and bandaged body on the hotel bed.

They so much looked alike. Out of his former colonies, Brazil was the one who resembled Portugal the most. They had the same green eyes and the same brown hair, though Brazil's was shorter and messier. He was wearing a yellow and green bandana around his head.

"Olá, Brasil," Portugal said, turning around so he could face him, though every movement was painful on his sensitive skin.

Brazil's cheeks turned bright red and he burst out of the room, followed closely by an angry Angola and a smiling, apologetic Macau who closed the door before once again urging Portugal to rest.

The older country did just that. Thanks to Angola's care, his back felt a lot better and he was finally able to lay back against the cushions and sleep for a few hours.

He woke up when he felt someone sitting on his bed.

The window had been closed and the sun was down, leaving his room dark except for the lights coming from the TV screen. Portugal looked at the foot of his bed, where he could see the silhouette of someone with a wrinkled shirt and short dark hair eating a tomato salad.

Portugal knew that head like the back of his hand.

"Spain?"

Spain got up from the bed so fast that he almost dropped his salad. He faced Portugal, his eyes wide and his cheeks red.

"I... I thought you were asleep!"

Portugal blinked and pointed at the foot of the bed. "I was, but you sat down on my right foot."

Spain looked at the bed then at Portugal before putting down his salad. "Right. Huh... Sorry, about that."

"It's okay."

"Can I sit down?" Spain pointed at the empty space beside Portugal rather than at the perfectly good chair on his side.

"Huh... Sure."

Almost shyly, Spain sat down on the bed beside him, taking off his shoes so he could cross his legs on the bed.

For a while, neither country said anything. They stood silently, watching some action movie on the screen, though neither was paying attention.

Portugal stared at his neighbor. For centuries, Spain had been his worst enemy, the reason he kept a weapon under his pillow in case of a surprise attack.

Spain was powerful and he made no secret that he wanted to own the entire Iberian Peninsula. Portugal was that little rectangle of land that stood in the way of his goal. Even though he wasn't considered as much of a threat as France or England, Spain had been relentless in trying to invade him.

For almost eight centuries they had been enemies and rivals, and Spain had almost succeeded taking Portugal more than once. But Portugal didn't want to be another part of Spain, he would rather die or drown in the ocean before that happened.

The rest of the world thought they were very similar, however, they could only see what made them different.

Then, as the years went by and both their empires fell, something began to change between them. Portugal wanted to keep what little he had left while Spain was ravaged by one civil war after the other. Before they realized, the world had moved on while they stood the same. The time for war over land was done.

Even though they couldn't forget their troubled past, they could try to be something more than old enemies.

"Antonio?" Portugal asked, using Spain's human name. That seemed to surprise the other country.

"What?"

"I... I never got a chance to thank you... for the fires," Portugal said, trying to look Spain in the eye. "You sent your firefighters to help me and you didn't have to do it. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to stop them."

Spain's green eyes, so like Portugal's, widened. "Of course I was going to help you! I wasn't going to let you burn!"

It was Portugal's turn to look confused. "You weren't?"

Spain raised his hands in the air. "Of course not!"

"Oh..." feeling embarrassed, Portugal looked away, his fingers toying with the silver crucifix around his neck.

"You thought that, didn't you? You thought I was going to happily let you burn!"

"Antonio... I'm sorry..."

Before he could finish, Spain grabbed him by his wrists and wrestled him until he was on top of him.

"Espanha!" Portugal cried out, shocked by Spain's actions. Before he could kick his neighbor out, he felt a drop of water fall on his cheek.

No. Not water. Tears.

Proud, strong, boisterous Spain was crying on top of him.

"I feel... I feel like I'm falling apart," Spain told him, letting his tears fall freely. "I used to be so powerful and strong and now... now everything is going wrong. I lost everything and now even my own land is fighting each other."

As it became obvious that Spain wasn't attacking him, Portugal relaxed, his wrist going limp on Antonio's grip.

"Sometimes... Sometimes I feel so lonely, Afonso."

Portugal's mouth dropped. It had been so long since anyone had used his human name. He couldn't even remember the last time Spain had called him by that name.

Apparently, he wasn't very good at hiding his surprise because Spain immediately reacted to his expression.

"You didn't think I remembered your name, did you?" Spain asked with a sad smile.

Portugal could have lied, but he knew he couldn't fool him.

"I thought I was too insignificant for you to remember."

Spain seemed taken aback by his words. "Is that what you think about yourself? That you're insignificant?"

Portugal opened his mouth to speak but staring at Spain's earnest expression killed his words before they reached his mouth. Instead, he looked away.

"Afonso?"

"I'm not you, Antonio. I tried to be strong and proud, but I'm none of these things. I don't matter... people barely know I exist. If I disappeared, no one would notice."

Spain let go of his wrist and grabbed his chin, forcing him to face him.

"You matter to me," Antonio said.

“Spain… don’t—”

"If you died, I would notice.”

“You wouldn’t. You would forget. You have so many friends…”

“You're my brother!"

With that, Spain buried his face on Portugal's neck and wrapped his hands around his waist. Feeling Spain's body pressed against his own, left Portugal speechless, his body and mind still trying to understand what had just happened.

"Spain...?"

"Te veo, hermano. Yo siempre te vi."

Feeling a knot growing inside his throat and tears in his eyes, Portugal slowly wrapped his bandaged arms around Spain.

"Eu também te vejo, irmão. I see you."

They stood like that for a while, let all the past fights and resentments go as they hugged each other. They were not sure they were real brothers, no one knew for sure, but there was something between them that united them in ways no other country had.

They were made from the same land, water and rocks.

After a while, Portugal chuckled.

"What?" Spain asked, his head still buried on his shoulder.

"I was just thinking of the time when you and France tried to invade me together. You know, with Napoleon?"

Remembering that Spain lifted his head and stared at Portugal blushing.

"Why are you bringing that up?"

"I never got a chance to ask and I'm curious. You and France were going to invade me, and each was going to get half of me, right?" Portugal asked with a mischievous smile on his face, while Spain's became as red as the tomatoes he loved so much.

"That doesn't matter now! France invaded me, remember?!"

"Yeah, but I want to know, Antonio. If you had succeeded, which half of me were you going to take?"

"Portugal!"

"Was it going to be the top half?" Portugal smile grew even wider as he pointed towards his lips, his neck, his chest, and abdomen.

At this point, Spain was so red that his skin irradiated heat.

"Or was it going to be the bottom half?" he asked, his hand reaching his thigh and then his...

"Stop!" Spain cried out, grabbing both his hands and pulling them on top of his head, while their lips were only inches apart.

"Brother..." Portugal whispered, feeling Spain ragged breathing against his face.

At that moment, they heard the hotel room opening followed by an angry cry.

"Bloody hell!"

The two Iberian countries looked up to see a red and furious England at the door, followed by France who, after seeing Spain lying on top of Portugal, holding his fists above his head while they were both blushing and panting, could only smile.

"Oh, mon Dieu! It seems we are interrupting, England. We should have knocked."

However, England didn't seem to have heard him. All the blond's attention seemed focused on the way Spain was holding Portugal's hands while hovering over Portugal's naked torso.

"Get off him, you Spanish wanker!" he yelled before throwing himself at Spain and kicking him out of the bed.

Portugal tried to pull his oldest ally from his brother but to no avail, while France sat by the bed and seemed to be enjoying the whole thing.

The fight lasted all night. By the time the sun came out, the hotel room was trashed, someone had thrown the tv out of the window, the minibar was empty, several bottles of alcohol were empty, and every country involved was naked.

Sitting on one corner unabashedly with his legs wide open and smoking a cigarette, France smiled at the scene before him.

"What a wonderful night, non? Just like old times!" France said, rubbing a bite mark on his left buttock.

"Shut up, you frog," England groaned, wrapping his arms around Portugal's neck while his foot pushed Spain away.

"Arthur, why are you wearing my crucifix?" Portugal asked, his head pounding from the hangover and who know what else. "Around your ankle?"

"So that God can help me keep the devil away," England answered, pulling his friend even closer while his foot kicked Spain's back.

"Ouch! Stop that, you damn pirate!" Spain moaned. Surprisingly, sitting on Spain's lap was none other than South Italy, angrily holding a bottle of red wine. "Romano? What are you doing here?"

Romano's cheeks turned bright red. "I don't know, you bastard. All I remember was seeing your bare ass through the open door!"

Portugal pressed his hands against his face. "Did anyone else get into my room because they saw one of us naked?"

From the sheets of the destroyed bed, a tall figure rose like Frankenstein's monster, causing everyone to jump and scream.

"I'm afraid I also entered the room," the sheet slid off from the man.

"GERMANY?!" everyone cried out.

The blond country winced at the loud noise. "Please, don't talk so loud! And do not tell superiors what transpired here!"

The sheets on Germany's side moved, revealing a smiling North Italy. "Don't worry, Germany. I won't tell anything!"

"ITALY!"

As the rest of the room erupted into chaos, France kept smiling benevolently. He handed Portugal a glass of wine and saluted him.

"Thanks, Afonso! This was the best meeting we've had in years!" the long-haired blond man said. "I'm sorry about what happened with the fires, but I'm sure you'll get through this. You always have and always will."

As he tried to not drop the glass while holding a drunk and angry England, Portugal couldn't help but smile in return.

"Thank you."

He decided to enjoy his last hours at the hotel with his friends until they had to check out. When he got home, he was ready to start over.

#hetalia #hetalia axis powers #aph portugal #aph spain #aph england #aph france #aph brazil #aph macau #aph angola #aph germany #aph italy #aph romano #lusofam

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marvelsswansong · 4 years

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🍵: Not sure if the sleepover is still open but! I do need some advice! I’ve recently had laparoscopic surgery that diagnosed me with endometriosis, which means it could be the first of many surgeries. Anyway, I was wondering if you have an self acceptance tips or advice because the surgical scars are prominent on my torso and I’m having a spot of trouble getting used to them. (By the way I adore your writing, the way you convey emotion is awesome!🥺)

Friday Sleepover is over but I really wanted to answer this so here I go!!!

Hi darling.

First of all, thank you so much for trusting me with your story. You’re incredibly strong for being able to share this with the world and getting through this day by day. You’re amazing and I’m floored by your spirit.

As for self acceptance...

I think self acceptance is something we all struggle with. I used to think that those “conventionally pretty people” (as in people who fit the conventional standard of beauty) were happy and super confident, but as I grew up I realized- no one is fully happy with their body.

No one is constantly happy with their body.

Self acceptance is incredibly hard because we live in a very looks based world where people will always tell you how you should look and feel about your body.

And body insecurities don’t discriminate- that skinny girl you admire? She hates her chest. The buff guy in your class? He wishes his biceps were bigger. That girl with a thick ass? She hates that part of herself and always tries to cover it up.

Everyone battles body insecurities constantly, so don’t ever feel alone. Because I promise, you’re not.

Furthermore, I hope you know that scars- whether that be self harm scars, stretch marks or surgical scars- are NOTHING to be shameful of. They are a part of your story, they show that you’ve conquered a difficult thing, they show that you’re a human being. No matter how many airbrushing and photoshopping and facetuning people may do, we all have some sort of scars on our body. Your own scars are therefore not only normal, but beautiful. They show your story, your struggles, your triumph over them.

Lastly, I think since the “conventional beauty standard” is forever shifting (the goal post is constantly being moved forward) and since people will always have an opinion on you, YOU have to love yourself first. Loving yourself comes in many forms- I think being kind to yourself, trying to eat healthy, talking to friends, de-stressing with a bath, getting exercise to boost your mental and physical morale (whether that’s walking everywhere, standing on the train or doing a sport/going to the gym every week), etc.... Are just a few ways you can continue to work on your self confidence and loving yourself.

Loving yourself isn’t as black and white as you did it once and it’s over. It’ll be a constant work in progress, there will be days where you’re very self conscious and insecure. Then there will be days where you feel hella good and amazing. It’s important to remind yourself that it’s a constant work in progress.

Also often times what you see as a “big flaw” (ie your nose, your chest, your legs, whatever) is seen as beautiful by someone else/not even seen as a flaw by someone else. So don’t be so harsh on yourself.

I don’t know if that made any sense but I hope it helps somehow. Also, thank you dearly, it means a lot that you said such kind things about my writing.

Lots of love,

Summer.

#summer answers asks #summer gives advice #love you so much

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quipxotic · 4 years

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Rules: tag nine people who you want to know better/catch up with and then answer those questions. I was tagged by @sanguinarysanguinity. Since I never tag people, feel free to answer these questions if you feel inspired to do so.

Last song: I’ve been listening the soundtrack to Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order by Stephen Barton & Gordy Haab quite a lot, particularly when I’m doing things that require concentration. I’ve been especially short on that quality since March, so I’m using a trick from my grad school days (i.e. headphones and loud music) to try to limit distractions. If you want a taste of the Fallen Order soundtrack, try “Memories of Days Past,” which is what I’m listening to while writing this post.

Other songs in heavy rotation right now:

“Feed Me” - Fulton Lee

“Every Single Time” - Katie Schecter

“Love It” - Ashleigh Ball

“Automatic” - Houses & Dawn Golden

“Keep the Faith (Strings Version)” - Overcoats

“After All (I Must Be Wrong)” - Son Little

“Whatcha Say” - Wargirl

“Chaos” - Miki Kiki

“Summer Rise” - Hansom Eli & Mikey J. Blige

“Gion” - Uki

“decide to be happy” - MisterWives

“Forever Nevermore” - Sea Wolf

“Balenciaga” - New West

“September” - Ayoni

“Trust” - Gracie and Rachel

“Upside Down” - Mondo Cozmo

Last movie: I had to think about this a bit, because I honestly couldn’t remember at first. I’ve watched very few movies over the last few months, but I did watch Midnight Run with my family when I visited them recently. Let’s just say the movie wasn’t my choice. To me the most enjoyable part of the film was the music by Danny Elfman. For a sample of that try “Walsh Gets the Duke” or “Main Titles (Midnight Run).”

Currently reading: I’m working my way through the second volume of the Star Wars: Darth Vader comics. I’m only really interested in the series because the Imperial Inquisitors are in it and any little details I can learn about them are helpful for fic purposed. That said, the art is fantastic and some of the stories are pretty decent. I’m still in the midst of listening to the audio drama version of The Sandman by Neil Gaiman, although I’ve kind of stalled on that for the last month or so (see above about my lack of focus lately). I’m listening to a couple of Big Finish audios including: “Short Trips: Out of the Deep” (a First Doctor and Steven story which I wrote some drabbles for), “Torchwood: Save Our Souls,” “Short Trips: These Stolen Hours” (Sixth Doctor and Charley Pollard), “Out of Time 1″ (Tenth Doctor and Fourth Doctor), “Short Trips: Downward Spiral” (Fifth Doctor and Nyssa), “Short Trips: Regeneration Impossible” (Eleventh Doctor and Twelfth Doctor), and “Poison of the Daleks” (a Third Doctor and UNIT story).

Currently watching: I just finished Midsomer Murders. Man, were the early seasons rough, which is why I did a lot of skipping around on those, but from Season 9 on I marathoned every episode. It’s something that I can have playing in the background while I work because it’s interesting but it’s not too interesting, if you take my meaning. I’m also watching Gardener’s World because I’ve spent a lot of time gardening during quarantine and it’s just so very relaxing. Another show I’ve had on in the background while I’ve worked is All Aboard! It’s not only a good de-stressing option, but it also helps to alleviate the twitchiness from being mostly confined to my house for going on seven months. I’ve also watched a bit of American football and Premiere League soccer for my sports fix.

Currently craving: I’m both craving and dreading the end of election season - craving for a whole host of reasons while dreading the possible outcomes. As bad as things are now, we’ve already proven there’s always the chance we can make them even worse. That said, we can also make them better and I’m really hoping we do.

Also, I’m craving Halloween. Give me all the scary, campy movies please.

#quipxotic stuff #sanguinarysanguinity #lists

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pessimisticlatte · 4 years

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Glass Roses ~ Chapter 22

Adrienette/Adrinette ~ Marichat ~ Nathalie x Happiness ~ Gabriel x Ceasing Existing ~ Me x crying because my baby is finally done and I can start working on other fics

THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER OF GLASS ROSES, GUYS!!! I’m currently writing the prologue because I feel like a prologue is needed to tie up some loose ends (cough, comatose Emilie, cough). All chapters will be uploaded to AO3 for on demand viewing. If you’ve been reading since chapter 1, thank you so much for your support and I seriously hope you’ll read my next fic (it’s already in the works because I couldn’t help myself)! Anyway, on with the show...

“Hello, I’m Nadja Chamack with today’s news. The supervillain known as Hawkmoth was apprehended today after Ladybug and Chat Noir provided evidence to the police on his identity and his direct involvement to the ‘akumatisation’ of Parisians. Gabriel Agreste, renowned fashion designer and head of the Agreste brand, was revealed to be behind Hawkmoth’s mask, his son, Adrien, newly 18 has taken over as CEO of the Agreste Brand with Ms Nathalie Sancouer, Gabriel Agreste’s former assistant, acting as his proxy. Ms Sancouer has also confirmed that she has, in fact, adopted Adrien Agreste and that she has made the decision to remove Adrien from the public eye for the time being. Police Captain Raincomprix has set up police units surrounding the Agreste mansion to ensure that Mr Agreste and Ms Sancouer’s privacy is respected.

“This devastating discovery comes a week after Adrien’s 18th birthday, which was held at the Chateau de Agreste in Alsace last Friday, where Ladybug, Chat Noir and the rest of their superhero team were said to have been in attendance. One of our interns was lucky enough to be at the celebration itself and capture footage of one of the superheroes, known as Queen Bee, saved a civilian as they took a fall from a balcony. It’s confirmed that this civilian is okay and taking some much needed rest at home with their family. Gabriel Agreste is currently being held at La Sante prison without bail and heavy restrictions regarding visitors; the date for his trial has not yet been set but the Ministere Public has released a statement saying that it will begin soon and will not be open to public viewing as a normal case would be.

“That’s all for tonight, I’m Nadja Chamack, don’t be bemused, it’s just the news!”

Leaning against the doorframe, Adrien watched Nathalie switch the tv off and stand, slightly shakily, before she turned to face him with a sad smile.

“Are you okay?” Moving around the couch, Nathalie gently placed her hands on Adrien’s shoulders and looked up at him with worried eyes. He was stressed and not taking his father’s arrest well, though Nathalie had seen first hand that Marinette was more stressed about Gabriel’s arrest than Adrien was and she had to wonder if Adrien was worried for his father at all or if the haggard, reserved look on his face came from worry for someone else entirely.

“I’m fine but I don’t think you should be the one asking that. How’s your head?” Looking at the bandage afixed to Nathalie’s temple, Adrien checked that no blood was spotting the white linen as a tell tale sign of her having torn her stitches again. After her fall from the balcony, Nathalie had needed 8 stitches and had been prescribed medicine for her blood pressure, once news had gotten out about Gabriel being Hawkmoth, her doctor’s demeanor had changed to become one more understanding of the situation the poor woman was in.

“It’s alright, Adrien, I haven’t torn them again,” The night after Nathalie had come home from the hospital, she’d had a severe panic attack as she stepped through the doors of the Agreste mansion. The attack ending with her having torn 6 of her stitches and requiring the Agreste family’s preferred doctor to come to the mansion to stitch her up again. “I sent an email to all the news stations this morning asking that they respect our privacy. I doubt they will but at least Nadja Chamack has the dignity to say that we want it.”

“You need to worry less, Mum,” Hooking Nathalie’s arm into the crook of his elbow, Adrien led her to the dining room and helped her into her chair, right across the table from him. “Sabine and Mari dropped over a lasagna a few hours ago, I just took it out of the oven so I’ll be right back, okay?” Adrien dropped a kiss to the top of Nathalie’s forehead before disappearing through the salon doors leading into the kitchen.

After the whole Hawkmoth debacle, Nathalie and Adrien had decided to cut down on the amount of staff within the mansion. They’d made sure to hand write letters of recommendation for each of the staff members they’d let go, making sure to sign with both their names to ensure that Gabriel’s now tarnished reputation wouldn’t hinder them in getting new employment. The mansion felt even bigger and more empty without them but Nathalie had to admit that it felt even more like a home now that it was just her, Adrien and, occasionally, Jean-Luc Gorrille. She’d begun to look at smaller places for them to live, Adrien having caught her looking at some and having lit up so brightly at the idea of living somewhere smaller, quieter, easier to turn from just a house and into a home. She’d never been happier.

Emerging from the kitchen with two steaming plates of lasaga, a set of cutlery held in his mouth as another hung precariously between his fingers beneath one of the plates, Adrien tried to announce himself with a muffled ‘ta-da’ before he placed Nathalie’s plate down in front of her carefully and handed her the cutlery he’d been holding beneath the plate. Taking his set out of his mouth, Adrien moved around the table and took his seat.

“You know, it’s actually kinda sad,” Using his fork to cut away a small chunk of the lasagna, Adrien looked up at Nathalie with a wry smile.

“What’s kinda sad?”

“That neither of us can cook and yet we’re the ones preparing our meals,”

“I hope you mean ‘preparing’ very loosely because all you did was heat this up, Sabine and Marinette made it,”

“Damnit, Mum, why’ve you got to go ruining everything?” Laughing, Adrien spoke with joking accusation in his voice as he pointed his fork at Nathalie.

“Language, young man!” Kicking the joke right back to Adrien, Nathalie’s laughed joined his. “Or I’ll have to wash your mouth out with soap and send you off to your room!”

“Remember when you actually had to wash my mouth out with soap?”

“Yes! How could I forget?”

Sitting at the table together, reminiscing about happy memories of the past, both Nathalie and Adrien were given the very rare chance to forget about what was happening beyond the walls of the mansion.

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

Leaning against the railing bordering her balcony, wind ruffling her dark hair as it lifted off the seine, Marinette looked out across the city toward the Agreste mansion.

“Hey Princess,” Dropping down behind her on light feet, Chat Noir walked up to his girlfriend and wrapped his black clad arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as she leant back into his warmth

“Hey Chaton,” Nuzzling her head up under his chin, she felt him squeeze her more tightly against him. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m alright, I think I did my grieving for him a long time ago,”

“I feel guilty...it feels like I took him away from you,”

Pressing a firm kiss to the crown of her head, Chat gently rubbed his thumb across Mari’s stomach. “You can’t take away something that wasn’t there in the first place, Mari,”

“But what if he could’ve changed?” It sounded as if she was pleading with him. Shaking his head, rubbing his chin against the top of her head as he did, Chat refrained from telling Marinette that his father wasn’t worthy of her remorse or guilt because he knew that it wouldn’t change anything, it wouldn’t change her mind or take away how she was feeling. “What if he could’ve changed, Adrien, and I took that chance away from him?”

“We’ll never know, Princess, and sometimes it’s better not knowing,”

“Ignorance is bliss, isn’t it?”

“To some people, maybe, but for us, I’d like to think that ignorance is happiness. If we stop asking ‘what if’ then we won’t have to feel the same pain twice,”

“Sometimes you say the smartest things and I have seriously no idea where it comes from,”

“It only happens when Nino lets me use the braincell,”

“Nino lets you use the braincell?” Mari let out a deep, rich laugh. “Which one of you broke it then because it almost never seems to work.”

“No comment,”

“Saying ‘no comment’ is still commenting,”

“You’re too smart for your own good,”

“Well, Chaton, one of us has to be otherwise god knows what would’ve happened to Paris by now,”

Pointing out toward the Eiffel Tower with a claw tipped finger, a grin hidden in her hair, Chat drew Mari’s attention to the colours dancing upon it. “Well, there would be a big statue of me right over there, big enough for you to see from here and swoon over,”

“What about a statue of me?”

“Hmmm,” He pretended to think for a moment, drawing giggles out of the girl in his arms. “I think I’d put a statue of you right outside my window so I could look at it all the time.”

“That’s kinda creepy,”

“Then, instead of a statue, how about you just stand outside my window forever?”

“Oh my god, no,” Thinking of the snowfall of Paris winters and the stifling gummy heat of French summers, Mari shuddered. “No, no thank you.”

“How about a compromise then?”

“What compromise do you suggest?”

“I get to look at you all the time ‘cause you live with me,”

Mari paused, her heart thundering in time with Chat’s against her back. “Let me finish university and then we’ll see,”

“You got accepted?” Pulling away from her, Chat turned her around slightly to look Marinette in the eye, gently pressing her back against the cold iron railing behind her.

“Yeah, I got accepted for a fashion and design degree,”

“Oh my god, I’m so proud of you,” Gripping the backs of Mari’s thighs, Chat lifted her up onto the railing and held her securely, more wary of balconies and such since Nathalie’s fall on his birthday, before pressing his lips to hers firmly. “I don’t know if there’s a time when I’m ever not proud of you.”

“Sometimes, you make no sense at all,” Wrapping her arms around his neck, Marinette pulled Chat Noir back into their kiss, the two of them illuminated by the lights of Paris and of the silvery moon beyond. This was a new world, a world without Hawkmoth, and there wasn’t a way in hell that either of them were going to let it slip through their fingers.

~~~~~~TAGLINE~~~~~~~ @lady-charinette @mochegato @maniic-pixie-dream-girl @aussie-lesbian @imgaydontshoot @hnbutt @katieykat513 @itwasmydog @camelliaflwr @beauty-and-her-books @a-star-with-a-human-name @severalverysmallmangoesinabasket

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #nathalie sancoeur #nathalie adopts adrien #adrienette #adrinette #marichat #happily ever after #miraculous ladybug fanfic #fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #fanfic writers

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mindfulnessdanmark · 4 years

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mindfulness angst

Recently I have been reading concerning mindfulness, the act of quiting and focusing on the here and now. Throughout the act of quiting, we stop believing, lapse of memory and the strong emotions that rule us. When we are practicing mindful breathing, consuming, walking, filling the dishwasher, driving our automobile, grocery store purchasing etc. we are touching deeply the here and now minute and also valuing the well being that is currently present in our everyday lives.

Generally when I do any one of these activities I'm normally thinking of something that happened in the previous or intending the future, absolutely not concerning what I am actually doing or even where I am a lot of the time. The amount of times have I driven mostly all the method to work and also questioned how I arrived! What occurred to the last couple of miles of roadway?

So there I was, on a great summertime morning, remaining on the actions of my front veranda, mindfully consuming my breakfast. I was eating whole-wheat squares with blueberries on the top. I focused on the preference of the whole-wheat, the tartness of the blueberries. I did wonder if eating mindfully would make me really feel a lot more complete after a dish yet rather than home on that thought which would have led me on the steed of no return, I simply returned to my grain and the blueberries. Later as I was folding laundry, shed in thought, I asked myself, "What am I doing?" "I am folding laundry, bear in mind it", I responded and also brought myself back to the task available.

Throughout the day I exercised mindful walking, driving and listening. Each job, even if it was merely conscious breathing, ended up being the most vital work in my life at that moment.

We are all having a hard time to locate joy and also joy in our lives. Living mindfully suggests that it is appropriate before us each day in our common lives. Perhaps it is a blue sky on a summer day, a blossom that flowered over night in your garden, the noise of your kids's voices. My daddy, that just relocates with pain in his later years, would certainly state that delight is being able to relocate like he used to as a younger man. Did he worth this when he was younger? No, naturally not. We only pay attention to these things when they have been taken away from us. Focus on the now, technique living mindfully as well as find the delight that is ideal before you daily.

youtube

Mindfulness is finest called moment-by-moment awareness. There are four dimensions of conscious minutes. They are (1) present focused, (2) non-judgmental, (3) non-verbal, as well as (4) non-conceptual.

Conscious minutes constantly concentrate on the here and now, never ever the previous or the future. Many thoughts are one action removed from the present minute since they concentrate on the past or future. Conscious minutes always exist in today space and time, a context typically described as the "here and now." Mindfulness revolves around being completely involved in the here and now. Mindful moments are not assuming minutes where you attempt to figure something out or evaluate it. Mindful minutes are non-conceptual because throughout them you just keep in mind the incident of something as well as approve it for what it is. You do not evaluate what you are experiencing, you accept it. The talking that takes place during mindful minutes is self-talk. It is non-verbal as well as additionally referred to as sub-vocal speech. Essentially self-talk is what you say to yourself when believing or feeling something. When people describe or write down self-talk messages it adds an additional layer of interpretation https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/?search=mindfulness and distance from them. Mindfulness is developed through casual and also formal training tasks.

Casual mindfulness training focuses on the application of mindful habits right into day-to-day experience. Casual mindfulness training entails learning exactly how to commit your complete focus to every task you are participated in. There are 2 dimensions of casual mindfulness training; (1) becoming a lot more mindful of your inner setting (ideas, feelings, psychological photos), and (2) becoming more knowledgeable about your external atmosphere (behavior and also immediate physical surroundings).

Coming to be more familiar with your inner environment is the first step in approving it and co-existing with it as you work towards completing jobs and satisfying your goals. Being much more conscious of the things taking place in your internal environment is different from evaluating or evaluating them. When you are really conscious of your thoughts you observe them without judgment. It is as if you have actually stepped beyond your very own mind and are taking a look at your thoughts as an outdoors onlooker of them. When you do this you'll possibly notice that a great deal of your ideas as well as sensations are not extremely helpful in satisfying your goals and also living a life based on your worths. One of the keys to stress management is living our lives according to our values as well as standards and the goals we established based upon these things. A crucial to doing this is understanding when our ideas are not handy because they are truly judgments as well as analyses as opposed to monitorings about the present moment.

Ending up being much more familiar with your exterior atmosphere revolves around increasing your recognition of your habits and also what's taking place in your immediate physical environments as you engage in this habits.

Conscious eating is usually used as a type of exterior mindfulness training. It focuses on your consuming behavior as well as the context in which it occurs, your prompt physical environment. Conscious eating is commonly shown to individuals with consuming disorders to help them come to be more conscious of their eating habits. When you practice conscious consuming you rest quietly at a table gradually pick up small items of food with your tools, progressively raise the food off your plate and also bring it to your mouth, as well as take slow attacks chewing completely. For those engaged in the practice, they experience consuming like never before. They are instructed to pay attention to the presentation of the food prior to eating it-the shade, form, placement, aromas, and so on. They start to marvel at things like just how the fingers, hands, and also arms work in consort with their brain to pick the food up as well as bring it right into the mouth, the procedure of chewing, the experience of tasting something anew.

Official mindfulness training is a structured program of everyday method of mindfulness reflection sessions. These sessions are in addition to continuing casual mindfulness training with conscious eating, strolling etc.

mindfulnesskursus - få fokus tilbage. Eat, pray, love: Find ind til dig selv med online mindfulnesskursus.

På dette mindfulnesskursus med mindfulnessinstruktør Andreas Sune Hansen lærer du bl.a de syv grundindstillinger i mindfulness, meditation, mindfulde øvelser, mindfulnesspraksis og mindful yoga.

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