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sustainably-du-mortain · 10 months

Note

f0r the dear siIIy rabbit: Côme:

6, 7, 17, 18, 25, 41, 46, 47, 48, 49

N0 pressure t0 d0 aII 0f these and PLS feeI free t0 rambIe t0 y0ur hearts c0ntent!

I'm having so much fun rambling about these, so thanks a lot for these!!

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Teacher either didn't like having them in their class or they were their favorite students. They can't sit still and get distracted easily, so classes could get really boring for them if they didn't like the subject.

They did good in science related classes, biology and chem being their favorite and barely managed to get passing grades in the other subjects, especially stuff like literature or arts where you have to read between the lines and get abstract.

They have a Masters in chemistry and minored in biology.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

They had lots of friends as a kid because they were the kid who knew lots of cool stuff, was friendly with everyone and was very funny, but this changed as they grew up. The things people loved about them started being the things they found annoying, so while they were just as friendly, people just didn't stick with them anymore because they grew tired of their rambling, their bubbly personality, the fact that they were oblivious to their surrounding. So no, they haven't kept any of their childhood friends.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

They love taking photos but most of the time forget to take them. Côme gets very absorbed by what they're doing and when they see cool things, their first instinct isn't to take their phone out and take a picture. They just enjoy the moment. Although they tend to regret it because they would have loved having a picture to remember the moment.

When they think about it, they take pictures of: cool rocks, little creatures they find in the forest, Felix, the sky, cool plants and trees, funny-shaped clouds, Felix, their current kintting/crochet projects, stray cats/dogs, Felix...

They keep their pictures in carefully organized folders, or if they really like the photo, they print it and put it in a frame or stick it on a wall

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Favorite book genre: Côme doesn't read much because they struggle to stay focused, but I'd say sci-fy, fantasy and non-fiction, mostly in audiobooks format. They'll listen to books related to science, archeology, mythology, anything they're interested in at the moment. Also mangas, graphic novels or comics, not too much text and pretty fast to read so they love it.

Favorite genre of music: classical. Remember that video of a dude absolutely vibing to classical music that was going around a little while ago? That's Côme. They put on some classical music thinking "just a little background music so that the house isn't so quiet" and end up having their own dance party.

Favorite shows/films genre: Pretty much the same as books. Animes (HQ, JJK, Sk8...) and cartoons (Mystery inc, Ben 10, Voltron...) are cool because they're not too lenghty. They're a big fan of the spidey movies.

I'll have to ponder a bit more about video games...

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

They're a sucker for dad jokes and puns, but literally anything makes them laugh. It's so easy to make them laugh people often wonder if they're being genuine. They are, always.

They laugh about pretty much anything except for offensive jokes and dark humor isn't their cup of tea either.

They're hilarious, but it's either accidental or 100% intentional. They let out the best joke because they're just being honest or they've been thinking about a pun for days and waiting for the perfect occasion to deliver it. They're also really clumsy and trip on their feet at the worst times.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

They're pansexual (maybe demiromantic, I'm still pondering on that). They find confidence attractive. Someone with a bright smile who laughs a lot and who doesn't apologize for existing is very sexy to them.

In a relationship they need someone who is going to make them feel like they were the first and only choice. They need someone who won't judge them for all the rambling they do and someone they feel comfortable around and they absolutely adore when their partner feels at ease around them and rambles back. They like when someone is comfortable with pda, lots and lots of pda.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

Honestly, I'd say it'd depend on the type of people they're meeting. They know that their personality can be a lot to take in, so they try to tame it down a notch when first meeting someone but they tend to forget about it halfway through. So yeah, they first impression are often very accurate. They'll be really polite and friendly when introducing themself, to the point unless something distracts them during their introduction.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

They hate black tie wear. They love bright colors, so black tie attire is the pinnacle of boring to them. Here's an example of what they wear for formal event. (I have a whole folder dedicated to formal attire for them if you want more)

They're a social butterfly, so fancy parties where you have to chit chat with people are right up their alley, although they often ask Verda or Tina to follow them around so that they don't digress too much.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

They pretty much enjoy any kind of parties. Put them in an environment with good music and nice people and they're thriving. They spend the night on the dance floor, meeting new people. They're not a big fan of organizing parties though, there are too many things to do and think about, they'd much rather help someone who is organizing or just show up.

If they were dragged to a party they didn't want to attend, although they're usually the people dragging people to parties, they'd probably try to make themself discreet, find a couple people to talk and try to spend a chill night away from all the attention. Or they'd probably try to sneak out of the party.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Their dino plushie, Ellie. It's the yellow triceratop that sparked their obsession with dinos. They take Ellie everywhere they go, and it's probably going to stay with them forever.

Another thing they valued a lot was an amethyst geode Rebecca got them on their birthday when they started being into rocks and gems. But they lost it in the process of moving to uni and they'd gove everything to get their hands on it again.

They're a tad sentimal, but not too much either. The only things they hold on are things that have a story behind them or things that remind them of one particular person/moment. But even then, they don't really hold on things of the past, memorabilia of old friendships, etc, unless they're really important memories.

Detailed OC asks

#i may have started answering these and forgot about them in the drafts hence why it took so long #i'm really starting to get a good grasp of Côme's personality so it's really cool #testing out a new tagging system bc my tags are starting to get messy #i think i got the idea from you #oc ask: côme hawthorne #twc detective #ali's headcanons #grape🎃#ask game

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #13: A Break From Normalcy

Words: ca. 5,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no CW: Character death, grief, slight gay panic, minor language

Ever since her childhood, Elsa had been a girl of routine.

Whims were rare for the girl, and her actually following them was even more rare.

In elementary school, she packed the same thing for lunch every day, played on the same swing every day at recess, and wore her hair the same way every morning.

This continued throughout her life. She woke up at 6:15 in the morning, every morning, without an alarm. She ate the same chocolate cereal for breakfast every morning at 6:25 before taking her shower at 6:40.

At 7:00 on the dot, she was always starting her car to go to school. She took a less busy back street to avoid traffic and usually arrived at school at 7:15, give or take three minutes.

She then proceeded to read whatever book had caught her fancy that day until 7:55, at which point she made her way to class, five minutes early. She left school at exactly 3:15 each day, just after the rush of students eager to leave, and she arrived home by 3:30 typically.

When she got home, she would do homework and study until her parents got home at 5:30, though they often fluctuated more than her with their schedules.

She then had dinner with them at 6:30 and played whatever video game caught her fancy at the time or practiced any skills she was learning outside of school.

Then, at last, she was in bed by 9:00.

This routine carried her through high school, and during the summer following her high school graduation she only modified it a little to fit a part time job into her schedule.

Then, she started college.

She watched around her as the other students at Arendelle University seemed more and more broken as the semester dragged on. The bags under their eyes darkened and their grades declined.

Meanwhile, Elsa thrived. A lifetime of setting schedules and deadlines for herself had prepared her for this. Her assignments were always submitted on time, she was always well rested, and her grades were fantastic.

This continued until her senior year when she had a sudden whim to check out a new coffee shop. Whims were rare for her. She was usually strict with her adherence to her schedule, and she normally squashed any whims before she even considered them. However, this whim seemed harmless enough, as she could easily incorporate it into her schedule.

This whim, however, was the first whim that would change her life.

She liked her routine well enough, but sometimes a little break was needed from normalcy.

She usually went to a less busy place for a coffee every day at 10:00 and then worked on her homework at home until 11:30, but now she found herself at a different, busy place, Der Kaffeehausen, each day at 10:15, and instead of going home to do her work, she found herself settling into the table with a broken booth at the coffee shop.

Der Kaffeehausen itself was far different than the old place she frequented. There was live music almost all the time. The crowds were loud. The menu changed up each day. However, within the chaos there was order.

The same barista worked every weekday, which fit Elsa’s school schedule of Monday, Wednesday and Friday well. This meant her coffee, a medium iced mocha coffee with light cream and Splenda, was exactly the same every time she got it.

She also got the same table every day since the booth was broken, so she could count on having her spot whenever she came.

It was about a week into the semester when Elsa met Anna. Well, she didn’t really meet Anna. She overheard the girl from the next table over while she was writing an essay on Joan of Arc.

“Hey, yeah, it’s Anna. Loving college so far, just thought I’d let you know how it’s going. There’s this guy who-“ Elsa heard the girl speaking into her phone.

She didn’t catch the rest of the conversation. Not because eavesdropping was rude, but mostly because the redhead’s name sounded pleasant and that was what stuck with her.

Every weekday after that, Anna became part of her routine, even though the two had never spoken. Anna would show up within five minutes of Elsa’s own arrival. While Elsa would get her coffee and get straight to work, Anna’s routine, or lack thereof, was far less refined.

One day she would loudly slurp a massive bowl of soup and then take a nap in the booth. The next she would do homework of her own. The following day she might play Pokémon on her Nintendo Switch, loudly whooping when she caught a rare Pokémon or won a battle. She was predictable in her unpredictability, Elsa realized.

There was one thing, however, that she noticed Anna did every single day. The phone call. Some days it lasted maybe a minute. Others it lasted almost an hour, but Anna always called someone – the same person each day, Elsa theorized.

She learned that Anna tended to ramble when she talked, and the phone conversations sounded very one sided. It almost sounded like Anna was writing a diary out loud.

Eventually Elsa found herself getting absorbed into Anna’s conversations herself. She usually snapped out of it quickly enough, however. She had work to do, after all. A routine to keep.

-.-.-.-.-

It was October when her routine was once again shaken, but unlike last time, this time it wasn’t her own doing. She was sitting in her normal spot, laptop open as she typed and with a textbook balanced on her lap. Anna was strangely absent, a middle aged couple at the redhead’s usual table.

Elsa’s fingers clicked and clacked, but part of her still felt something was missing without Anna. It was a weird feeling, especially since the two had never even spoken.

That was why she was so surprised at the voice to her right that morning.

“Excuse me,” Anna’s voice muttered sheepishly. Elsa turned up and smiled a little.

“Hi,” she returned.

Anna looked around a bit before gesturing to herself. She then asked, “Hi, me?”

Elsa had to force herself not to giggle.

“Right, me. Who else would you be talking to? You don’t usually talk to many people here,” Anna carried on, “which is okay! Doing your own thing is totally fine, sometimes I just want to be left alone too. I totally get it.”

Elsa waited patiently as the redhead made her point. Truthfully, she had only really heard Anna talk during the phone calls, so to have her voice directed at Elsa was a treat.

“But anyway, uh, I meant to ask if there’s room for one more at your booth? Mine’s kind of taken,” Anna finished with a gesture to the middle aged couple.

It took Elsa a moment to realize the girl was done. It took her a bit longer to realize what Anna had even said. This wasn’t only the first time Elsa had talked to Anna. It was also the first time she looked into the girl’s eyes, and they were beautiful. The teal perfectly complemented her copper hair. She cleared her throat and answered, hoping she wasn’t blushing.

“Of course,” she said, smile still on her face, “The booth is broken a bit on the end, but you’re welcome to join me.”

The relief on Anna’s face was surprising. Was she a person of routine too?

“Thank you! I didn’t want to bother you because you always look so busy. I know that I can be a distraction,” Anna said self deprecatingly.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Elsa assured her, as she settled into Elsa’s booth. The end of the booth was broken, of course, so Anna ended up fairly close to Elsa, but she could handle it. She was a routine-oriented person, not a completely antisocial person.

They settled into a comfortable silence as Elsa continued working on her homework about William of Normandy. Anna, for her part, just rummaged through her bag and then played Pokémon. This lasted until Elsa had to leave to keep her routine. Strangely, at 11:30, she found herself not quite wanting to leave.

It wasn’t that the two had spoken or formed some kind of bond, but Elsa had enjoyed just being in Anna’s presence. However, something felt off about their hour together. Something felt wrong. Elsa had never once really deviated from her routine, but this was the feeling she thought she’d have if she ever did.

It took a few more days of Anna sitting with her in silence to realize what made her feel so anxious.

“Anna…?” she mumbled one day. She didn’t think about the fact that the two hadn’t even introduced themselves and she had no logical reason to know this girl’s name.

“Hmm?”

Anna didn’t even seem a little suspicious at Elsa knowing her name.

“I know what it’s like to have a routine. If you need to make your phone call, I won’t listen in on it,” Elsa said with a gentle smile.

Anna smiled back at her and, surprising her, pulled her into a hug. It was quick, but when it was over, Elsa instantly missed the warmth it provided.

“Thank you,” Anna said with red cheeks, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re always super busy, and your work is probably way harder than mine. I mean, I’m just a freshman, but you’re like, a senior.”

“No,” Elsa reassured her, “Mr. Weselton’s class is boring, but it’s really easy.”

“Wow,” Anna said as she removed her phone from her satchel, “You must be some kind of genius. I’m in his Historical Perspectives class and I can’t keep up.”

The compliment made Elsa blush even more, so she just made a noncommittal ‘hmm’ and returned to her work so that Anna could make the call.

She noted, as usual, that it sounded as if the conversation was very one sided, but she didn’t pry. She kept typing, pausing only to reference her textbook. When 11:30 rolled around, she packed her things, waved to Anna, and mouthed a silent ‘bye.’

The little wave and smile Anna gave her stuck with her for the rest of the day.

-.-.-.-.-.-

It was ten days until Christmas at Arendelle University, and Elsa was still surprised at how empty Der Kaffeehausen was.

The semester ended on December 14th and resumed on January 3rd, so she knew logically that the campus would be empty, but it was still unnerving being the only customer in the whole place. There was a pianist playing at the piano on stage, but it wasn’t the usual jaunty stuff one would expect here. Likewise, there were only two baristas. Thankfully her favorite was still there.

She felt a little strange going to the broken booth when the entire lobby was empty of people. She didn’t even have homework, but her routine was so ingrained in her that she couldn’t quite bring herself to make the drive home to her family, even for Christmas.

She opened a blank word document, due to muscle memory more than anything else, and tried to find some sort of inspiration to type something. Her mind was drawing a blank. She blamed her lack of homework between semesters, but she knew the truth.

Anna had become part of her routine. The two barely really spoke, and they certainly didn’t know each other well. Had she even told Anna her name?

Regardless, whether Anna was sitting at the next booth over, or playing Pokémon in the same booth as Elsa, Elsa was accustomed to the redhead. She now felt the way she would feel if she were to ever sleep in past 6:15, or go to another different coffee shop. It was a feeling that things were just barely off, and it made her uncomfortable.

“Hi,” Anna’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. Elsa looked up to her and smiled.

“Hi, me?” she asked teasingly.

“Well, you never told me your name, so I didn’t know how else to say ‘hi’,” Anna said with her own teasing grin, sliding easily into the broken booth beside Elsa.

“Didn’t I?” Elsa asked, feigning obliviousness, “I’m pretty sure I did. Maybe you have a poor memory.”

Anna pretended to take offense at that, gasping comically loudly.

“Why, I never! Who could possibly forget your name?” she asked with her usual smile.

Elsa giggled, “You’d be surprised. I’d say if college had superlatives, I’d be voted ‘most forgettable.’”

“Well I could never forget you,” Anna mumbled stubbornly. Elsa blushed and returned to her work – oh. Right. No work. No excuse.

“Thanks,” she muttered shyly.

To her surprise Anna scooted far closer than usual to her in the booth and peeked at the blank word document.

“I was wondering what you were working on during Christmas break,” she said with a tone filled with satisfaction at having her questions answered.

“Uh, yeah, I just don’t like going home for holidays,” Elsa told a half truth, “What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t have much reason to go home either,” she answered, but her voice wasn’t quite as bright as it normally was. Elsa could feel some kind of unspoken tension in the air.

That was when Elsa had the second big whim that would change her life.

“I hear there’s a beautiful lake on the other side of campus. Would you like to go?” she asked hesitantly, not really sure why Anna’s answer was so important to her.

“Really?” Anna asked with a tilt of her head, “I thought you don’t like going outside? That you like, have a thing about dirt or something?”

Elsa laughed at the misunderstanding, not even realizing she was leaning very close to Anna. By the time she realized that their shoulders were touching, she didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed.

“No, you dork,” she teased, “I just like keeping a routine.”

Anna was blushing as she playfully shoved her. She was thankful that they were alone in there, because she was sure their giggles would disturb other customers.

“Well, yes, then. Let’s go see this lake of yours.”

Elsa stood and packed her laptop into her bag, carefully grabbing her coffee in her other hand.

“Well, do you want to drive or walk?”

“I’d say walk. I don’t like cars that much,” Anna mumbled the last bit before teasingly perking up, “Besides. I still don’t know your name, and I’m not in the mood to be kidnapped.”

Elsa jokingly snapped her fingers as the two made for the exit.

“Darn! You’re onto me,” she bantered. With a chuckle she said, “It’s Elsa, by the way.”

Anna said her name out loud a few times as if testing it.

“Such a pretty name,” she marveled, walking through the door Elsa was holding for her, “And such manners! My poor heart can’t take much more of this.”

Elsa was caught between a blush and a giggle. She was aware this was the first conversation the two had really had, but there was something about Anna that was so contagious.

“Shush, you dork,” she said with a smile.

The two walked through the deserted campus, making small talk and occasionally throwing snowballs at each other.

Elsa was surprised to find that she was having fun. She didn’t have the usual headache that accompanied deviations from her routine. She was happy and even laughing.

When the two reached the lake, Elsa wasn’t surprised to see that it was frozen solid. It was very cold outside, after all. It was actually pretty beautiful. She’d never been to the lake, for obvious reasons, so this wasn’t a bad way to see it for the first time.

“It’s so pretty,” Anna said with wide eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” Elsa agreed as she led them to a nearby bench, “I’ve never actually been here.”

“Really?” Anna asked, “How’d you know about it then?”

“My parents made me memorize a map of campus before I moved here.”

“Tell me about them?”

Elsa wasn’t sure why that sounded like a question, but something about it sounded so vulnerable.

“My parents?”

“Yeah, I’d love to know more about Mr. and Mrs. Elsa,” Anna joked, kicking her feet in the snow.

“Ah, yes. My father, Mr. Elsa. He’s great fun at parties,” Elsa teased.

“You know what I mean, you stinker.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” she asked, turning to look at Anna. Anna turned to her and returned the eye contact.

“Anything?”

“Well, they loved me. They were always strict, but in a protective way, I guess?”

“Like the map thing?” Anna offered.

“Like the map thing,“ Elsa nodded, “And they always prepared me for a quality education. It’s why I have my routine.”

“And how does that work?”

“I like to do the same things at the same time each day. It helps me stay organized. And it helps me keep my focus, I think.”

“Oh. So trips like this aren’t usually your thing.”

“Not usually.”

There was a comfortable silence as a dog ran by and rolled in the snow. Elsa half-expected Anna to chase it to pet the cute little thing, but to her surprise, the girl stayed seated.

“Thank you,” Anna said quietly.

“For what?”

“This was my first Christmas without my parents,” she said with a sad smile, “You’re the first real friend I’ve met here at Arendelle U, and I know this wasn’t easy for you, but I was so afraid I’d have to spend Christmas break completely alone.”

Elsa was floored. Anna was such a bright person. She lit everything up around her with her playfulness, her joy, and her general upbeat attitude. To hear such a sobering seriousness from the girl was like a punch to the gut.

“When you say, ‘the first Christmas without your parents,’ do you mean…?”

“My parents died this July in a car crash,” Anna said, almost mechanically. It was like she was reading a paragraph from a book.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I had no idea,” Elsa said, looking down at the ground between them. She didn’t know what to say, but she so desperately wanted to comfort this girl.

All she could do was scoot closer to Anna and provide a shoulder if she needed it.

Anna graciously accepted it, laying her head on the arm, which was thankfully nice and fluffy due to Elsa’s winter coat.

“I never said anything. I’m just thankful to have someone to spend Christmas with. I knew I could count on you to be in our spot.”

Our spot? Elsa smiled inwardly at the thought that, not only had she made a friend, but she and that friend had their own little thing they could share. Sure, it was just an old broken booth in a coffee shop, but it was theirs.

The pair spent the rest of that day together at that frozen lake, only leaving when interrupted by their empty bellies and the freezing cold.

-.-.-.-.-.-

It was Valentine’s Day when Elsa made a startling discovery about herself.

She stared into the bathroom mirror after her 6:40 shower, but only for a moment. She couldn’t be late.

Her little epiphany wasn’t her fault. It was because of Anna, her newfound best friend. The girl who had piggybacked onto Elsa’s coffee shop routine and become a key part of her life. The girl who had lost her parents just before starting university, leading her to latch emotionally onto Elsa. The girl who, three days ago, on February 11th, had jokingly suggested that Elsa be her Valentine’s Day date.

It had been such a simple throwaway comment from Anna.

‘Since we’re both single, we might as well be each other’s date,’ she had said with a chuckle.

Elsa had fought the blush as best she could. Thankfully it was time for her to leave per her schedule, so she managed to escape the embarrassment she felt. It was also a Friday, so she had the entire weekend to sort through her feelings.

After a weekend of introspection, World of Warcraft, and homework, Elsa came to one conclusion:

“Fuck. I’m so gay.”

She realized, in hindsight, that it should have been obvious to her. She never pined after any men. She found herself admiring the female form (objectively, she always told herself), and the only times she had gotten flustered around others were around girls.

She found herself poring through her every memory as she drove to class. She re-examined every female she had known in school, as well as every male, hoping for some clear indication of any crushes she may have had. She just wanted to understand herself. It was terrifying to not understand her own sexuality and it felt like everything she knew had a different meaning now.

At 10:24, she pulled into Der Kaffeehausen, absentmindedly ordering her drink, thanking her favorite barista, and walked to her normal booth. For what had to be the first time, Anna was there before her, watching her with a smug expression and her feet propped onto Elsa’s spot on the bench.

“You’re late, I was getting worried,” Anna teased. When she noticed Elsa’s serious expression and absentminded demeanor, however, she sat up and shifted to a worried look, “Oh no. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Elsa wordlessly sat beside Anna, wincing internally as the girl wrapped an arm around her. Her shoulder that Anna’s hand was resting on felt burning hot and every touch from Anna had a new meaning now in her head. She tried to speak but couldn’t find the words.

What would Anna think? Would she be disgusted? Would it make things awkward? Elsa loved their friendship, and she really didn’t want to lose it. Maybe she should just not tell Anna about her discovery?

Then she saw the adoration in Anna’s eyes and the decision was made for her. She took a deep breath.

“Anna, I think I’m gay,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel.

Anna’s eyes widened a bit, but then her playful smile returned. With a fake haughty aura about her, she said in her most elegant voice, “Ah. So you’ve fallen for my seductive charm. I’m aware of the effect I have on women.”

Elsa just stared, jaw open.

“You absolute dork,” she said as a laugh bubbled up from her belly, “I’m coming out to you and you make an Office reference?”

Anna raised her hands in a placating gesture, “I just wanted to make it clear that I accept you for who you are, and I just assumed the best way would be to tease you like normal.”

Anna’s face fell for a moment.

“Oh wait! I wasn’t like trying to downplay your coming out! I just wanted you to know that I still like being around you. I mean, of course I do. Who wouldn’t like being around you? You’re beautiful and kind and super organized - it’s really inspiring, to be honest. Wait. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay, Anna, really. It’s one of the things I love about you,” Elsa said with a smile, blushing as she realized her own choice of words.

“Ah-hah! Love! Right, cause it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Anna was digging through her satchel and Elsa watched curiously.

“Since you’re my Valentine and all,” Anna began, finally finding a small box in her satchel and holding it up triumphantly, “and you’ve so clearly fallen for my feminine wiles.”

“I have not,” Elsa lied but Anna ignored her, holding the small box out to her.

“I got these for us,” Anna continued, unbothered by Elsa’s denial. Elsa tentatively grabbed the box and looked to Anna. With an eager look, Anna urged her on, “Come on! Open it!”

Elsa tentatively opened the small jewelry box and gasped at what was inside. It was a beautiful silver chain, on which a simple snowflake locket hung. With a delicate touch, Elsa grabbed the locket and opened it. Inside was a selfie the two had taken on their day at the frozen lake back at Christmas. Elsa instinctive held the locket to her heart before pushing it back to Anna.

“Anna, this is beautiful but I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

Anna shrugged and refused to take the jewelry back.

“If you don’t take it, we won’t match,” Anna argued, reaching into her shirt and pulling out a matching locket with gold instead of silver, “Besides, it wasn’t expensive or anything. I just saw the snowflake and thought of you, you know, because of our little snow day back in December. Crazy how it’s been two months since then!”

Elsa reluctantly held the chain around her neck and blushed as she turned away, asking, “Can you clasp it for me, then?”

She felt the slight click of the hook fastening to the chain and turned to Anna, “H-how do I look?”

“You’ve always been beautiful, but now you look beautifuller, if that’s even possible. Er, not fuller. More beautiful.”

“Seriously, though, thank you for everything,” Elsa whispered, “You accepted my being gay, you accepted my weird habits when it comes to my routine, and you’ve always been so kind to me.”

“I should be thanking you, Elsa,” Anna said with a smile, “After my parents died, I couldn’t cope with it. We were always inseparable and then I was just, well, alone. I tried to cope by calling their phones, kind of like a journal, you know? It was almost like I was talking to them. But then I met you, and you’ve been there for me.”

Elsa pulled Anna into a hug.

It was then that she was hit by the third big, life-changing whim of her life.

“Let’s go on a date,” Elsa said as she stood extending a hand to Anna, who watched with wide eyes.

“Like, a date-date?”

Elsa nodded.

“Right now?”

Elsa nodded again, blushing furiously. Was she rushing things? Maybe. But she knew by now that the rare whims she had were best off not being ignored.

“But, your schedule-“ Anna began, taking Elsa’s hand anyway.

“It’s okay. I think this is more important.”

Anna stood beside Elsa, their hands still clasped together gently. Anna said with a happy smile, “Let’s go, then.”

And they did.

-.-.-.-.-

Ever since her childhood, Elsa had been a girl of routine.

Whims were rare for the girl, and her actually following them were even more rare.

Anna knew this, and she still cared for Elsa. That didn’t mean she couldn’t pull the blonde out of her self-imposed rut every now and again.

With a content sigh, she laid back onto the soft grass.

“This place looks a lot different in Summer,” Anna noted.

Elsa grinned as she turned to look at her girlfriend.

“It’s not the same without the snow and ice,” she agreed, “but the bright sun and the grass really bring out your eyes.”

“I know what you mean. Your eyes were dazzling in the snow when we came here in the winter,” Anna nodded as as she rolled onto her side to cuddle with Elsa. She welcomed the warmth of Elsa’s boob-pillow as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder. This was the life.

It was late July, and she would start the new semester soon. She would be a senior, like Elsa was when they met. But until then, she was content to enjoy these lazy summer days. When Elsa didn’t have to work, at least.

She was just glad that Elsa wasn’t a strict on herself with her routine anymore. If she was, they could never spend hours just lying in the grass together. It made all the itchiness that would come later worth it.

“This is great,” she said with a yawn.

“Anna?” Elsa asked.

“Hmm?”

“Remember that locket you gave me?” Elsa asked, squirming a bit under Anna. She sounded nervous.

Anna fished hers out of her baggy t-shirt and held it up in front of them, “Yep. Still wear it.”

Elsa chuckled, and Anna recognized the same nervousness from the time she had come out to Anna. Anna turned to look into Elsa’s eyes.

“Are you okay? You’re not going to tell me you’re pregnant or something, are you?” Anna tried to joke.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Elsa said in a slightly more confident manner, “It’s just that I never got a chance to pay you back for that.”

Pay her back…? Anna was confused, but it sounded like Elsa was struggling to find her words, so she was patient.

“So I, well, I got you a gift,” Elsa said with a deep blush as she looked away and handed Anna a small jewelry box. She wasn’t usually this shy.

Anna smiled at her and pecked her on the lips. It was quick and it was chaste, but every time they kissed it still invigorated Anna.

“You didn’t have to do that, you stinker,” she said with a smile as she took the offered box, “but thank you.”

She could have sworn she heard Elsa mumble ‘don’t thank me yet,’ but she wasn’t sure. She just grabbed Elsa’s right hand with her left and used her right hand to slowly, and clumsily, open the jewelry box.

Her eyes widened.

“Holy fuck, is this what I think it is!?” she shouted a bit too excitedly, sitting up and avoiding the glares of the parents around her.

Elsa was sitting up beside her, but wasn’t quite looking at her. Anna felt her girlfriend nod beside her.

“It was, well, just a whim,” Elsa muttered sheepishly,“ and I’ve learned not to ignore those.”

Anna took out the shiny gold ring and stared in awe at the diamond. She held it up to the sun and had to squint to look at it.

“Jesus Elsa, I don’t know what to say,” she said excitedly.

“An answer would be a good start,” Elsa joked with a worried smile.

Anna kissed her again and pulled her into a tight hug. She met Elsa’s misty eyes with her own.

“Yes.”

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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misscorn · 4 years

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Day 3 Hands/Relaxing

Day 3 of @takaritsuweek baby woohoo!

***

Knock knock

Ritsu ignored his front door, already having a good idea as to who was at it, and he was not going to allow a certain someone to ruin his day off.

Knock knock knock

Ritsu sighed, simply turning a page in his book and continuing to read Sumi-sensei's latest novel. It wasn't often he got to just sit around and relax like this, so he was going to take full advantage of it.

Knockknockknockknockknockknock-

Ritsu shut his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried not to let his irritation get the best of him. After all, getting a rise out of Ritsu was probably Masamune's goal. Masamune would give up eventually, right? If Ritsu just continued to ignore him and pretend like he wasn't home-

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK

"Onodera! I know you're in there!" The voice was muffled through the door, but managed to reach the brunette, making Ritsu bookmark and shut his novel before setting it aside.

"Can I help you, Takano-san?" Ritsu asked, frowning as he opened the front door. He didn't try to hide his displeasure. No one wanted to be harrassed by their boss on their day off, after all.

"Let's go out." Masamune said, it sounding less like a suggestion and more like an order.

"No." Ritsu frowned. "If that's all you wanted then-" He started, beginning to close the door, but Masamune was quick to put a hand out.

"I know you're not busy. Come on. Let me take you on a dinner date."

Ritsu blushed furiously at the word 'date' and shook his head. "D-d-don't be ridiculous, you're my boss!"

"And when has that ever stopped me?" Masamune asked, a bored expression on his face. He really wanted to skip this part and fast forward to where the two of them were on a date. Maybe it wouldn't be the picture-perfect lovey dovey kind of thing Masamune wanted, but so long as he was in Ritsu's company it would be enough. When they were alone he could even reach out and hold Ritsu's hand. Sure, it would make the brunette shriek like a banshee at first, but Masamune could put up with some scolding if the end result was holding hands. Maybe he could even steal a kiss or two-

"Well, that's because you have no shame!" Ritsu huffed, shattering Masamune's daydream before it could really get anywhere good. "Besides, I really just want to spend my off day relaxing. At home. Alone."

"Let me cook for you then." Masamune said.

"What part of alone did you not understand?"

"I'd just be in the kitchen. Besides, with your track record I can't be sure that you're feeding yourself properly on your days off." He said, that only being maybe 25% of why he wanted access to Ritsu's apartment, the other 75% of course being that he wanted to spend time with the brunette. But he couldn't say that, not if he didn't want Ritsu to explode.

Ritsu frowned. "I don't have anything in my pantry for you to cook anyway, so if you'd excuse me-"

"Do you not see how that's even worse? You're seriously hopeless." Masamune huffed, reaching out to grab Ritsu by the wrist and drag him over to his apartment.

"T-Takano-san! Let go of me!" Ritsu protested, trying to wiggle out of his grip. Despite his effort, he ended up in Masamune's living room.

"Sit. Relax. That's an order from your boss. I'll start cooking." Masamune said.

Relaxing in Takano Masamume's home was much easier said than done for the frazzled brunette, but it seemed he wasn't being given much of a choice.

"Can I at least go get the book I was reading and lock my front door or am I being completely held hostage?" Ritsu asked huffily, crossing his arms.

"Only if you promise to come back." Masamune said. "And if you don't you better believe your workload will be doubled come Monday morning."

Ritsu had to refrain from reaching out and strangling his annoying ex-boyfriend, instead he stomped out of his apartment and back over to his own. He went into the living room, snatching the book back up and pausing to consider his options: stay put in his home, but probably be harrassed all night and ultimately punished at work or do some damage control by reading at Masamune's place instead. Ritsu sighed, suddenly feeling gloomy. It just wasn't fair! Why couldn't he ever catch a break?

Ultimately he decided to go back to Masamune's apartment, slipping inside and shuffling to the living room. He could hear Masamune making himself busy in the kitchen, so he decided not to bring too much attention to himself and just sit. He cracked his book back open, picking up where he left off and letting himself get absorbed in the pages.

Maybe this wasn't so bad...

The domestic sounds of the kitchen that were familiar enough to be comforting, but not loud enough to be distracting, the comfortable couch that he was able to sink into, a story that he didn't have to worry about editing and could instead just enjoy, and eventually a delightful smell wafting through the apartment all added together to make the usual tension Ritsu felt when in Masamune's apartment melt away.

"Hey, foods done."

Ritsu couldn't help but to jump when his little bubble had burst. Well, that had been fast. Or at least, it had seemed like it. Just how long had Ritsu been reading?

"A-Ah, okay." Ritsu marked his page and set down his book before standing to follow Masamune into the kitchen shyly.

Dinner had been done for maybe ten minutes now, but Masamune hadn't been able to tell Ritsu right away, not when he saw him on the couch. He had looked so at ease, like he belonged there, like it was only natural for him to be in Masamune's living room and Masamune could only stare and hope to God that one day that would be true. It had pained him to interrupt such a beautiful image.

"Itadakimasu." Masamune said as they sat across from one another.

"I-Itadakimasu." Ritsu echoed before he started to eat. He was mad that it was good. There was no way he could compliment Masamune's cooking without him getting a big head about it so he kept quiet.

"So, what's that book you've been reading this whole time?" Masamune asked curiously. Just like that, Ritsu lit up with stars in those emerald eyes of his, always eager to talk about books. That was perfectly fine though, Masamune was always eager to listen.

"It's Sumi-sensei's latest novel! I'm really enjoying it so far, but it's interesting, the tone is a little lighter than his usual novels-" Ritsu started to ramble between his bites of food, Masamune doing his best to pay attention and not just get caught up in admiring him.

"I love you." Masamune said when Ritsu's words came to a natural pause.

Ritsu turned a bright shade of pink and he quickly stuffed some food into his mouth to avoid responding.

Masamune just smiled, not expecting a response of any kind other than something akin to scolding, but that was okay. He reached out across the table, taking Ritsu's free hand in his. "Thanks for coming over for dinner."

"You dragged me over..." Ritsu reminded him, huffing.

Masamune chuckled, knowing that Ritsu wouldn't be here if he truly didn't want to be. "Still, thanks anyways." He said. "Can I borrow that book when you're finished with it?"

Ritsu was more than happy to steer the conversation back toward the book, not even realizing that he was still holding Masamune's hand.

#takaritsu week #onodera ritsu #takano masamune #sekai ichi hatsukoi #owo #uwu

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kaikiky · 3 years

Text

Mini rambling essay on being "gifted"

I don't know how it is for other people, but I know that for me, growing up as a "gifted kid" really ingrained in me a desire to impress other people, not just with how smart and accomplished (and thus, correlatively, superior) I am, but by how advanced I am. So like, it wasn't enough to be smart compared to everyone in my grade, I had to be smart compared to even people older and more experienced than me. I got so addicted to praise and recognition for how smart I am that I felt compelled to pursue activities that would showcase how advanced I am for my age. Which in practice meant I would prioritize school-related activities over hobbies I genuinely enjoyed, or if I enjoyed something, I would incorporate it into my academic life somehow so I could use it to impress grown-ups.

I couldn't detach anything I did from the pursuit of acknowledgment for how smart and mature and advanced I was. And I was even to some level aware that this was my motivation, which meant I felt kind of artificial. But at the same time, I still felt superior to other kids my age who watched cartoons and did hobbies that were just purely for fun. I thought they were wasting their time accomplishing nothing. I wanted to be one of those kids who got held up on a pedestal for accomplishing so much before even going to college. That was my goal. I always wanted to be compared to a cohort far above my own, and deemed better. Because that's how it was when I was little and I was used to it, and it felt good to be praised (even when it also felt awkward and uncomfortable to be in the spotlight, shy little bean that I am). And stopping to reflect on that, of course now I see how toxic and stupid that is. I've stopped living my life as a competition in pursuit of praise and acknowledgment, but I can still sometimes feel that unconscious desire wriggle around inside me, because it got that deeply ingrained into my unconscious. And I'm also realizing that jumping ahead like that to try to rack up all the advanced smarts and accomplishments actually made me miss out on learning things better if I had slowed down to meditate and dig into the subjects more. Like, as a kid a knew a LOT, and in high school I knew a LOT and was capable of a LOT, but looking back, I feel like it wasn't the depth of understanding I really wish it was, the kind of depth that would have stuck with me better over the years and been more useful. I knew what I needed to know to impress people and graduate in the top 5 of my class, but I wish I had learned it all more to be able to incorporate the information into my life and lifelong bank of knowledge. If I wanted to use now the information I used to have of art history, world history, calculus, linguistics, etc., I would have to go back and refresh my memory, and then still learn more. Because I had to drop a subject once the next semester started. I was so busy trying to soak up everything I needed for each semester that I didn't have time to really let things settle, and there were always new classes to work on right after so I couldn't take time to go back and continue learning subjects that genuinely fascinated me. They were in the past. I had new exams to study for and ace. I guess what I'm saying is, I wish I hadn't been so determined to win a Smartness™ certificate and instead had allowed myself to delve beyond what the class wanted me to learn so that I could really become more of an actual "expert" in the subjects that mattered to me. I wanted to be recognized as smart more than I wanted to be usefully smart or specialized in anything. And I resent that the competitive culture pushed me to be that way, because I could have such a deep understanding of so many things by now, but instead I was racing to learn too much for the frivolous purpose of being impressive.

(Oh and to pull capitalism into the horror landscape, my motivation even in middle school was to be impressive enough to win a big impressive scholarship that would cover all my college expenses, saving my family from the burdensome cost. So if I hadn't been worried about the price tag on a college education, I also might not have been so focused on doing everything I could to compete in national exams that would win me a full ride. So there's that.)

And I wonder how many people go straight from high school to college then grad school just because that's the track that makes you impressive, because wow! you're getting a PhD when you're so young? You must be really really smart!! First of all, why is that the measurement for smart? Second of all, why is that what's impressive and not so many other things people can accomplish outside of a big degree? I'm rambling again.

I just keep thinking about all the things I could have a genuinely deep understanding of if for all this time I had allowed myself to pursue them to my heart's content rather than rushing to be at a basic level of knowledge that people five years older than me would have if they were smart.

And I'm much more attuned to the performative manner "smart" people speak in, like their primary motive is to show off in order to get the praise and approval they're used to getting as gifted kids. It doesn't work.

That kind of performativity was always obnoxious and cringey, even in elementary school kids, but hearing an adult do it is worse because it shows they never grew out of it. They're trying to sound advanced and impressive but instead they just sound childish, like a toddler going "Look at me! Look at me! Look what I can do!" and hoping to get their seniors to clap.

I'm sure even a shy kid like me managed to pull off a few cringey moments seeking adult praise, but I got over it. I don't understand how grown ass adults aren't embarrassed of themselves when they go on monologues full of jargon and unnatural rhetorical flourishes. And it makes me wonder, is that the real reason you're here? in this university? because you want that Pavlovian response where you say something above your reading level and the adult in the room goes, "Wow, you're so smart"? That's the only thing I think when I hear that kind of bs.

When I hear those people, they don't make me want to be around them. They don't make me want to learn from them. They don't sound like they would be a good source of information, they just sound like they want to lecture at you so you'll stare in awe and think they're so smart.

And the more I hear it, the more I think the world would absolutely be a better place if society didn't cultivate that kind of behavior, if it didn't promote competition in general smarts but encouraged the passionate pursuit of knowledge no matter what the subject of interest is, even from a young age. I would rather be in a world full of little scholars who can talk for hours about the things they love rather than listen to pedantic, condescending nonsense from ~aCaDeMiCs~ who love feeling superior and compete with people in their fields for who knows the subject better.

I want knowledge to be fun, and scholarship to be collaborative, not a fight to prove your research deserves attention because you surpassed the understanding of whoever came before you. I'm tired of academic writing being, "Here's what so-and-so said, and here's why they're wrong," or "Here's what so-and-so said, but here's where they're lacking in something that I, the insightful genius, have come to fill in." It's such a juvenile pissing contest dressed up in professionalism and fancy rhetoric. It's embarrassing and pathetic.

I used to think people getting a PhD at 25 or something was so cool and impressive, but I have so much more respect now for someone who has lived through a lot of experience and appreciates learning in a way that gifted kids rushing to be impressive don't.

I respect people who are secure in themselves and come to university looking to learn and absorb, and I feel sorry for people like me who came to university intending to perform smartness. I feel like I could have used my time so much more wisely if I had had a better understanding of what I could get out of college itself rather than using it as a means for racking up achievements and honors.

#Ky says #I've been thinking about this a lot and I finally decided to get my thoughts down somewhere

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adultingautistic · 4 years

Text

help? rambling! sorry for that thing.

(saw in the ask-section: so written today as of the 20th of August in the year 2020)

Hey,

No idea how to approach this. Though first things first: English is not my native language and I have some trouble with languages (even my native) [mostly speaking and writing… and understanding (the hearing part but sometime also the meaning part) – okay I just can’t language – sorry] and this thingy here will be long, again – sorry Though I learned to understand written english just so I could read more fanfictions (‘cause the ones in my native language didn’t satisfy me anymore) - spend a whole summer just reading stuff in english and now I *need* to read everything in english and watch things in their native production language (synchro is weird af) and if possible with subtitles (books: if it’s the authors native language; otherwise both languages (german and english) would be translated and then it doesn’t really matter, most of the time anyway)

WARNING: Messy, chaotic and about 2500 words long. Sorry. and it isn’t proof read and some sentences could be… not a sentence

I think I might be autistic / have adhd ? not sure, going to someone (professional) is not really an option as that would take at least 6 to 12 month to even get maybe a appointment… and it involves a lot of social interaction that would stress all people – even those that don’t have to think about *every* interaction they have with eachother… like no planning or thinking about what you have to say or can’t say and what’s appropriate? Like that is a thing – always wondered how most people got through life when everything is so damn hard. It is apparently a thing that isn’t so quite normal… lol*

Okay, most of the time (that I remember) wondered how that worked for everyone else except me – how they get through life thinking all those things, or well… don’t thinking all those things like HOW?!? Why can you “people”? and I learned it’s important if you’re a girl or not; so yeah, girl here. Followed adhd / autism stuff for a few month / weeks and now again for the last days (it’s an on and off thing). so yeah, I can relate to so much on like everything. Long time I thought, nah, can’t have it: good in school (more so when I was younger but never actually bad), finished school good (though could have been better, if I had studied once (like for my oral exam, I opened the document that should help us learn one whole time, the morning of the exam so yeah, not good at that; brain just goes, heard it once, why should I read this information? Can’t really recall it but while reading I “know” it, so WhAt Is STuDyInG?)) anyway (at this point I would have deleted about everything but like 3 or 4 sentences because… rambling. Sorry, but I think it is important what’s actually going on in my brain; I know it’s hard to read lol) considering all those things I read here (and on other blogs and stuff), I would explain so much about what’s going on in my life (I made a document where I collect all that stuff but it’s redundant sometimes and really messy; try to make a short list with most important things).

Like as a kid, it took me longer than other kids for this social stuff (not like it got “everything”, just enough to communicate more or less lol) or I was so freaking focused on rules; one example is at the train station, there is this line to indicate where you should wait for the train and the other side is where you’re allowed to step once the train is in the station – I lost it, when that rule wasn’t followed (never really big, loud but I was really upset – you know, I learned that it isn’t “allowed” to act out in public). Another thing, I would always get the adults (or kids) around me to speak to others: I mean, I wanted ice cream? Couldn’t order it (still hard to this day – I’m 19 years old btw) or any other basic interaction stuff – I mean I broke every connection to my best friend (in 6th grade, so I was like 10 or 11) because he broke a rule while playing “hide and seek” like yeah, one rule one time while playing and I didn’t speak to him for like 6-7 years (met him at driving school again lol) and I still have his book because I didn’t want anything to do with him anymore (now it’s just awkward to give it back).

As I was younger I loved reading, couldn’t get me away from it – now not so much lol (books or reading in general is so hard sometimes… most of the time) – but that is more like: I lost myself in the books and was super focused on it – now I “don’t have time” as in I can’t really read a book if I don’t have theoretically the whole day and night – cause if I have to do stuff later “there is not enough time to read a book” because I could get lost in it and miss stuff and 5 hours is like 5 minutes, right? (that is a part of “time blindness”, am I mistaken? – never really related to that on a deeper level but the longer it think about it, the more stuff comes to my mind that could be part of it lol / like I always at least try to) get ready when I want to visit my grandparents, it’s like a ten minute walk so I need at least 45 minutes to prepare. Example: want to be there at 14:00 so I should go to the bathroom around 13:15 the latest, bathroom always takes long ‘cause I get distracted, so I then somehow get going around 13:50 – spoiler: I need more like at least 15 minutes not less then 10 to get to my grandparents by foot – and where is the time? I got out of the bathroom somewhere before 13:40 most of the time – I do the exact same things every time and sometimes I’m like: oh, it’s like 13:25/13:30, why would I think I need so much time to get ready? And then most often I need longer – and no, then I start to got even earlier (bathroom is like the first thing in the routine I do before I have to leave the house) and somehow it is now 13:45 and I just leave the bathroom – HOW??)

Okay, MSWord tells me, I have written like almost a 1100 words and haven’t even looked at my 11 page document – sorry (can I even write that many words in an ask at tumblr?)

Another thing I found is RSD – of my god (I usually don’t like to use it like that but omg), that explains so much – don’t want to write too much (missed quite a few “too”s I think lol hope you understand anyway) – I really react so intense to small, constructive criticism and I didn’t (don’t) understand why; and question everything; I remember everything I did wrong (so many “small” things but I’m such bad at human sometimes) and the feels and oh no, I didn’t even do something wrong, my coworker/sort-of-not-really-friend told me how I could have slightly improved what I did: I’m such a bad human, I can’t do anything right and they won’t want to have to do anything with me again – thank you brain, not helpful. One other thing was, like I asked for one weekend of and I wasn’t allowed to take it ‘cause they planned to or already shifted an event (couldn’t really focus on that) to that weekend and I didn’t know it and when they said “no”, in that situation I could have lost it, I was almost in tears (you do not cry in public lol) and thought, how could I even ask that and be soo egoistic (along the lines of that).

This next one is just the text copied from a post but that is like exactly what it is for me:

“I literally thought all the symptoms were the default way a brain works, so you’re telling me some of you can “choose” what to pay attention to? Like, if you know you absolutely have to listen to and remember something you just “can” even if you don’t like it?

And if you’re at a restaurant and three other tables are having conversations you don’t just automatically absorb everything they’re saying?

And if you know you have to do something within the next hour it won’t just remind you of a different subject entirely which reminds you of another different subject entirely and you don’t just take you three days to remember the original thing you were doing????”

so true lol.

Found another post with autism signs in adults (that my have been missed as kids), I took out everything I don’t really relate to (like 5 or 6 things lol):

- may constantly rehears conversations or interactions

- may feel as though you are always on stage

- may have a few close friends, not many acquaintances

- may struggle with other people breaking rules (RULES ARE ABSOLUT – HOW CAN YOU BREAK THEM?)

- may often fidget, chew, tap, or other repetitive behaviors

- may get more or less upset at something than is “appropriate”

- may struggle to adjust when plans change without warning

- may have routines that don’t seem to have a real purpose

- may struggle in situations that are unfamiliar

- may be a very picky eater with few preferred foods

- may struggle with noises, touching, or sensory input

- may struggle to process visual or auditory information

- may struggle to settle body down enough for restful sleep (though I now have a weighted blanket and that’s soo awesome, it really helps at least a bit (don’t wake up that often at night anymore))

- may struggle to keep track of a fast conversation

- may take jokes very literally, and not understand teasing

- may miss sarcasm or subtleties while others are speaking

I understand teasing, I can more or less successful tease and be sarcastic but I’m not sure if people are teasing me. I do not prefer to communicate via text or email. It is still very stressful for me - a telephone is also bad (tone and stuff, not understanding the words correct and not even seeing the other person and in person is also bad – so no to communication and/or interaction lol)

I could provide example for everything but I’m at around 1700 words and just no.

Didn’t really mention sensory stuff, another post I found: “basically, your day-to-day sensory input shouldn’t be causing you distress. sounds wild, i know, but it’s not neurotypical for the stimuli (be it sound, touch, visual, etc etc) you encounter on a day-to-day basis to make you unhappy. also, if busy shopping malls or crowded parties consistently cause you distress or agitation, that’s a neurodiverse thing. it sounds strange, but apparently but yeah, it’s normal for most people to expect to be comfortable in their day to day surroundings.”

Like on one level, I knew it couldn’t be quite “normal” to be always uneasy in “normal” day to day surroundings but like, I can’t understand how people can not find it hard to be in such environment (I heard some enjoy it even, like HOW?).

Random interjection ‘cause I wanted to say something to thing from the beginning: * “Allistics do not “prepare” in order to socialize. They do not have scripts. They do not write them, memorize them, or use them. They just magically know what to say. “ yeah, wow, didn’t realise that for a long time, and it is really magically. But somehow they can; I still ask my mom to help me write emails (more or less important ones) ‘cause it’s hard and she’s always like: “we do it so often, why do you still need help, just write” – not helpful and we didn’t do it actually ‘cause it is a complete different situation now lol every new email is a new thing… I need to think about what to say to the cashier every damn time I’m in the supermarket lol; if I don’t have to talk, someone else orders for me (they thinks I’m lazy or so, I don’t know but it’s so hard and you know what to do, so you can do it lol)

And that executive dysfunction thingy also explains a lot – I mean, I like languages, I’m just not good at that speaking/hearing the words thing – still, I learn Ancient Greek as a sort of hobby (I mean, I learn it for so long now, it’s too late to stop, that would be weird and it is really interesting, just really hard) and I needed like 7 hours to do the work (like, got out of bed, got breakfast, started the computer and did like 30 minutes of working, then did some stuff on the internet for like an hour and then ate my forgotten breakfast, then did some more browsing (I need to do the work cause I have to send it to my teacher this evening lol) some work for like almost an hour, some more phone, a bit of work – and so on. I did some work (but like so many people would have done more or needed less time lol) – anyway I know I really need to work on the language and I just… don’t. arg, that sucks so much, every week I think, I could start doing things on Saturday and then everyday a bit so I have like six days to do some work and every time it’s Thursday and I’m like, lol 10 hours for doing a weeks work. And it’s not like I could focus for that 10 hours – except when I can but sadly it’s almost never on the things I *need* to do. Anyway if my parents hadn’t provided dinner, I wouldn’t have eaten more than breakfast today – anyways sometime I want ice cream or other stuff and I just… can’t do it like I’m sitting here for an hour now, I’m so freaking bored and I just want ice cream but do I move? Nope, and doing something to not feel bored? Nope. I also mean to get my thingy for my wrist ‘cause I have some problems and typing hurts but lol, nope. An example as kid would be I needed hours to dry myself after a shower and just sit on the floor in my room doing more or less nothing or playing (I now a have strategy but yeah)

So, yeah, sorry; I think it’s quite possible that I’m autistic / have adhd, both or so – am I making things up and this is just my mind going a bit wild? (also, I’ve done some online “tests”; most of the time I get like ¾ of the maximal points, but at least always more than half the full points)

Sorry, it’s a messy, long thing but I need a bit of an advice or so – just, like “yeah, could be possible” or “nope.”

Thanks if you made it to the end! 20.08.2020

PS. could write so much more in my mind but nope. i think one can get my point. otherwise just ask me

PPS. actually talked with my grandmother about it, lol, she said, it would explain some things she wondered about lol (never thought i would talk in real life with someone about it but i really needed to talk about my thoughts and then i couldn’t shut up and i was so worried but she is kinda cool with it? though she doen’t really know anything about the topic except what i told her so yeah. i acually have no clue how to approach my mum (even if it isn’t autism/adhd or so, i think i have to talk about how i tick a bit lol) (sorry, just had to write it a least lol)

so sorry, needed a part two (cause brain is stupid)

Okay, part two (I’m so sorry) (now it is the 21st of August 2020)

There is so much more I can write about: sorry, again like 1300 words.

Like, special interests – I have no idea; as I kid my teacher had to regularly remind me that I have to leave the classroom for break – cause I was so into my book that I didn’t hear anyone leaving the room or the bell; now I can get really invested in some fanfictions (if I have like five days for myself and nothing to do, it is like 3 books without a break) and I’m at a point where I don’t find (good) new stuff and read the same fanfic again and again (I know exactly what will happen and still love it), sometimes I don’t read it for like a few weeks or month and then like 5 times back to back. I absolutely love Doctor Who (but I’m not excessively obsessive or so and don’t know that many facts just some), just can ramble for a few minutes (okay, everyone who would listen speaks German and my main input for Doctor Who is English, so hard to translate that and stuff). Well back to books: I love them; even though I can’t properly focus much these day, I love them, I need them: but why? I hate that when book covers changes or the side of the book like it’s: publisher, name of book, author and the next book is like name of the book, publisher, author and all is mixed up or the symbol of the publisher is slightly different: why? Can’t it be consistent? Why??.

Routines, rituals and stuff. Yeah, I have for example this one street (they repaired the street but there is a small crack now), I have to cross it on the side that is where the street crosses another and then the last 3 steps have to be on the other side and the fourth is stepping on the sidewalk (I really can’t do it any other way and I hate this one car that always blocks the crack a bit – it shouldn’t be standing there ‘cause it’s almost directly in the crossing lol) when I still was going to school, my way home was very specific and one time there was a building/construction site (just some repairs or work on the pipe lines in the ground) and the first time I saw this I was stressed after a long day of school and almost lost it right there and then, because I couldn’t walk my normal way (and yes, at home I cried at bit); for the next few weeks my way back home was hell. I have some specific routines for the bathroom and showering (though most people have that, right?). I have to pack my things and then my stuff like keys and such in the same way every time. When I need a walk I have like two (or three) routes I can take and I have to do them and almost can’t change them after I started (I can though it really throws me off and I don’t feel really well after that). One time – cause Covid-19 and stuff – you need to use a shopping cart where I live in order to enter the supermarket (so you keep more distance) – so, I went to the market by foot and had everything planned, shortly before I am at the store I realise I don’t have a “chip” (thingy you need to use the shopping cart; don’t know if you know what I mean) and I lost it – my plans and routine how I go shopping to that market (if by foot) was ruined – went back home and cried and raged like for an hour (went later again, cause I really needed stuff and I couldn’t leave that thing open, that also feels… not good – had to finish the walking “round”: to the store, store, back home)

One thing I mentioned before: sensory stuff; yeah, not a fan of “loud” noises (it isn’t always the loudness but more the number of noises). Water in my face (nope, hate it, never under the shower and like a sponge or so is horror (like everywhere on my body), just clean water is okay (but please, I can’t have had soap like right before on my hands)), lights is a day to day thing (though if I’m tired / close to what I think is sensory overload, either the room I’m in gets like darker or lights up so much it’s not tolerable anymore (then I know, I really, really have to leave the room and not see or hear anybody anything anymore)), and food, yeah (everything has its place on my plate and please don’t touch), I’m a really “picky” eater and I absolutely despise like cooked or baked fruits (some vegetables too) (they feel soo weird in my mouth… and taste bad… but the texture alone is… really, really bad) (if I wait a bit more, I could think of more but you get the gist I think)

One thing that throws me off: Since I’m 14 years old, I do some stuff with youth groups like mostly work in the church as a volunteer (like in the (school)holidays going a vacation with a group and such things) – I needed like three years (I was and still am seen as shy, mostly) to really “lead” a group (I really am good at imitating the others that can lead a group, I think) and now after I finished school and am doing a “Freiwilliges Soziales Jahr (FSJ)” (voluntary social year) (basically I “work” for a year in a social job (sorry, no idea how to explain it in English) and get not much money (that’s the volunteering-part, but ‘cause I work full-time (38.5 hours a week on paper), I get a bit of money)) – and now I applied for studying for working in a social job – can’t really explain it but important is that I would/will have to work with people and stuff, like my job is to create/plan activities for people (like for example, a meeting every week for old people, free-time activities for teenagers or so). On one level I somehow like that working with people (as long as I know what I do, I had time to plan and everything happens more or less as I imagined/planned), on another level I absolutely… well not hate it… but it is really taxing for me and sometimes I really question myself but then other people say, do it, you’re good at it – and I’m like: yeah? I sometimes feel terrible and have no idea what’s going but okay, good that you don’t see that?! Am I not totally awkward and what? Still, have no clue what I would do instead of that lol (sorry, explained that whole thing real bad; just ask, if something is unclear)

So, two options: either I fake everything I wrote before that last thing and how would that work? Or I’m really good at faking that last thing and how? I have no idea and yeah, I had to write that – can both work? Like, it’s not like that I’m always (really) comfortable doing that social stuff but on the other hand, a bit adrenaline and anxiety makes the life more fun or something like that (and it’s not like, yeay, one time a certain situation managed and the next time I can navigate that somewhat same situation, nope, it’s like nothing ever happened before and that’s… annoying?)

Sorry again to bother you. Thanks for reading

21.08.2020

PS. I will probably think of something new every few hours but that’s enough for now I think lol – sorry

PPS. And sorry for my bad English and explaining… language is hard (not like I could write it better in my native language lol)

_______________________________________________________________

First, I will never, ever, ever judge someone based on how good their English is, whether English is their first language or not. People communicate the best they can, and that’s all that counts, and it does not matter if it’s “perfect”.

So I can’t address every detail you brought up, because this was a LOT! I did read all of it though, and the general impression I get is that you’re right, you probably have ADHD, and possibly autism as well, though I am not a doctor and I can’t diagnose you.

You asked a few times if you could be “faking” it, and the answer to that I can say for certain: No, you are not faking. What you told me here are your life experiences. I just read a story of “How life is like” for you, and it was not fiction, this is your real perspective about how your brain sees the world. This is not fake. This is who you are, and I felt what you wrote was very open and honest, the exact opposite of fake.

Sorry, it’s a messy, long thing but I need a bit of an advice or so – just, like “yeah, could be possible” or “nope.”

Based on your experiences that you shared, I’d say it’s more than likely you have ADHD. You talk often about trying to complete a task and losing your focus before it’s finished:

Anyway if my parents hadn’t provided dinner, I wouldn’t have eaten more than breakfast today – anyways sometime I want ice cream or other stuff and I just… can’t do it like I’m sitting here for an hour now, I’m so freaking bored and I just want ice cream but do I move? Nope, and doing something to not feel bored? Nope. I also mean to get my thingy for my wrist ‘cause I have some problems and typing hurts but lol, nope. An example as kid would be I needed hours to dry myself after a shower and just sit on the floor in my room doing more or less nothing or playing (I now a have strategy but yeah)

This is all very suggestive of ADHD. You also had some symptoms that could be autism, but it seems like the ADHD is more prominent for you and is affecting you more (keep in mind, I’m only a stranger on the internet, I could be totally wrong).

I’m really happy that you were able to share these thoughts with your grandmother, and that she was open to listening to you about them, even if she didn’t have all the facts.

I know you said it would be a long wait, and very difficult, to get an appointment with a professional. But I do really think you should be tested for ADHD. Maybe your grandmother can help you talk to your mum about it, or maybe your grandmother can make all those phone calls for you (because believe me, I know how difficult it is to make phone calls, they are just as hard for me). Even if you have to wait a year, it would be worth it to know- and also, because in the case of ADHD, there is medication which can help you. So it would be really worth it for you to get that, even if you have to wait a long time.

You’re obviously a very detail-oriented, thoughtful person, and I know that you’ve studied this subject inside and out. You’re not faking, you’re not making it up. These are your experiences, and they are the truth, and you deserve to be tested if you want to be.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #ADHD #submission

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4trackcassette · 3 years

Note

Random music asks: 1. 4. 8. 11. 16. 22. 25. :)

these were a wonderful collection of music asks! thank you johanne 💖💖!! i love thinking about my music library LOL. this is so long i’m so sorry...i am chatty

1: name 11 bands you listen to regularly

okay assume that the pretty much every band mentioned in 22 is disqualified from this question because there’s ten of them. NOW, in no particular order: the jesus and mary chain, blur, new order, built to spill, pulp, the mountain goats, CSNY, lorde, vampire weekend, the regrettes, and wolf alice...among others

4: name a great band you recently discovered

belle & sebastian! i’ve known “the boy with the arab strap” for a while but for some reason i decided to listen through their discography throughout the last ~2 months and now i’m really into them, especially their first 4 albums!

8: which song do you think should everybody listen to at least once in their lives?

maybe like, homeless (with ladysmith black mambazo) by paul simon because it’s a really great entryway to start listening to ladysmith black mambazo and other artists like them and to branch out....though clearly i am NOT great at branching out myself. idk if i can say something for “everyone”...too big for me

11: any bands your friends got you into?

sarah @viir-tanadhal got me into pet shop boys in september! my friend gus got me into fleetwood mac years ago...my friend brenna got me into rilo kiley this summer. honestly most of my music taste is absorbed via my friends or the taste of artists i like!

16: favorite album artwork?

i really love new order’s cover for technique. there are probably others i like (gone now by bleachers comes to mind) but i don’t really think about album artwork that much tbh

22: list 10 favorite songs by your top 10 bands (each)

these artists are just pulled from my top 10 most listened to artists of all time so it’s not SUPER representative of what i’m listening to now but i like them all! songs in no particular order...i probably have other favorites by all of them but these are just what i first thought of! i don’t know why i decided to make this into a chart. but here you go.

25. somebody you absolutely adore as both a musician and a person

okay despite this being what is nominally a bruce springsteen blog and liking to read and watch interviews for whatever i’m into at the time (like...blur bruce psb talking heads at the moment)...i generally have very few thoughts on artists as people unless i hate them (like morrissey or van morrison). i have...very little interest in ever meeting artists i like, though that’s not directly related to the question. i guess in the past i would have said jack antonoff but he’s ~ehhhh~ these days despite how much i still do like bleachers...maybe gerard way for how much i adored his stage persona when i was like 12?? though again i don’t really have thoughts on who he is as a person...we’ll say gerard way because otherwise i’ll just keep rambling

#krysten-knitter #ask #thank you!!! this was...an exercise and very fun!#me n my fairly basic but broad music taste #this is what being alone in my house makes me do LOL #this took me forever lol

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pastelwitchling · 4 years

Text

25 Days of Fluff Day 25 🎉🎄🎁

Michael woke to Alex’s head on his shoulder, the airman breathing softly into his skin. It was snowing outside the window, and Michael could already hear the others waking outside the bedroom, laughing sleepily and playing Christmas music to properly wake up.

At one point, Liz had come in to wake them, to wish them a Merry Christmas, to urge them to come open their gifts, but Michael had held up a hand; Five minutes, he silently asked. Michael knew none of them would dig into the presents without him and Alex there, but all he was asking for was five more minutes. Five more minutes of morning peace, five more minutes of Alex asleep in his arms, the sleeves of his white sweater hiding his fingers as they curled to fists on Michael’s stomach. Five more minutes of this, and then they’d get up. Liz gave them a soft smile, and nodded before closing the door.

Alex stirred awake not long after, and Michael raked his soft brown locks for another bit before they finally got up. As they waddled into the living room where everyone was already gathered, hot chocolate or plate of scrambled eggs and pancakes in hand, Michael hugged Alex from behind, hooking his chin over the airman’s shoulder.

They each took the presents with their names on them, and while Michael was grateful for the gifts he’d gotten, the one he really cared about, and had been saving for last, was the large one from Alex. He remembered the airman’s face last night as he’d held it up, his cheeks red and his smile shy, and he was determined on loving it no matter what it was.

Alex took the small box Michael had handed him last night as well, and they each dug into their present. Alex held up a brown-string bracelet with a little charm on the end; a guitar. His boyfriend seemed to have a similar idea because when Michael opened his own gift, he was shocked to see an actual guitar.

“I know you don’t… own one,” Alex said shyly, clutching the bracelet tightly as if afraid he would already lose it if he let go. “I wanted to help make things quieter for you –”

But Michael had already taken Alex by the waist with his free hand, and was kissing him so fiercely that all Alex could do was gasp against his mouth. He pulled back enough to rest his forehead against Alex’s, gently taking the bracelet he gave him out of his closed hand, and slipping it around Alex’s wrist.

“You’re my music, Alex. You make everything quiet.”

Alex stared at the little golden charm at the end, a promise that Michael would be with him forever, and with a smile happier than Michael ever thought possible for Alex to be happy, and glassy eyes, the airman took Michael’s face in his hands, and kissed him softly.

Michael reveled in the press of Alex’s body against his, in the warmth of Alex’s fingers on his cheeks and jaw, in the taste of Alex’s lips. Half an hour later, as they had the breakfast spread out on the small coffee table, the Christmas tree lighting up merrily in the background, the snow falling peacefully outside, Michael had Alex on his lap in the armchair. The airman’s head was on his shoulder, his arm around Michael’s waist as they half-listened to the others’ conversations, their attention mostly absorbed with one another’s heartbeat, the warmth of one another’s skin.

Finally, Isobel asked Michael to put his new guitar to good use, and Max asked Alex to sing. “That really would make this Christmas perfect,” Liz said.

“I haven’t heard Alex sing since high school,” Maria agreed.

“Come on, Manes,” Cam said. “It is Christmas, after all.”

But Kyle, who seemed to always be able to read Alex, looked to the others and said, “Let’s all sing. Together.”

Alex and Michael looked to each other. Normally, Alex didn’t like to have the spotlight, but they seemed to have the same idea; this was the morning for miracles.

So Michael pulled out his guitar, and while Alex had to move off his legs, Michael moved over on the chair so that his airman could still be at his side.

And so, Michael strung the first few notes, Alex softly began singing Welcome Christmas, and soon, everyone was joining in. Michael didn’t know if, through the falling snow outside, he could hear the faint jingling of Christmas bells, the hearty laugh of an old man, but as he and Alex sang together, Alex staring back at him with his brilliant, loving eyes and his even more loving smile, Michael was sure of one thing; this was a gift. And he would never let it go again.

***

Merry Christmas everyone! 🎄

This is it, the last Christmas fluff piece, and on Christmas morning, too. I can’t believe I did it, actually. I’m not going to ramble on. Just know that I’m very appreciative of you all, I love you all very much, and I hope you have a very merry Christmas 🎄🎅🏻❄

#25DaysofFluff #MerryChristmasRNM #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex one shot #malex fanfic #malex fic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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ramblefang · 4 years

Text

Rabbit Town; BNA ep 2

“Previous Post

Preface

My previous (and first) post of these BNA first impressions ended up being more rambly than even I want to be. Most of that was due to me retelling events, which I was actually doing to help me remember what happened in the episode. So instead, I’m going to try just going through the episode again in another tab and using timestamps (which I think is the norm for this sort of thing anyway.) This technically means I’ll be writing down my second impressions, but I’d really prefer my first watch of episodes to not be interrupted every minute by me needing to tab out and write something. I’ll still try to remember and write out my first impressions anyway.

(Hmm, Netflix doesn’t seem to provide a precise timestamp. Guess I’ll just approximate things by mousing over the...runtime...bar thing.)

Cold Open

0:15 Starting off right where the last episode ended: Michiru saying that she’s human.

0:22 Shirou says she’s a tanuki, based on the appearance of her tail. She seems offended by the idea. My best guess is that her reaction has to do with what tanuki are famous for: having huge balls. (Also they’re magical spirits, which may or may not have something to do with the powers Michiru has.)

0:45 The police arrive and it seems Shirou is a known entity. Gives me Batman vibes. Is Shirou a vigilante? And in that way where the police are just used to it by now?

Opening

0:50 The OP starts and I notice the strands of DNA. Makes me think of how Michiru apparently changed species, and also the way there is some pharmaceutical company behind the very existence of Anima-City. Oh, and I just got that “BNA” is basically a pun on DNA.

1:30 Last time I had recalled something about shadowy feral transformations, but it looks like Michiru transforms into something more equine than anything else. (With what I know from later in the episode, she definitely seems to be a shapeshifter, which I think is appropriate for a tanuki.)

1:40 Oh, and there’s still totally something about this vocal melody that reminds me of “Bad Apple.” Admittedly, it’s been years since I actually listened to that song, so maybe I’ll have to go compare them later.

Forms

2:00 A detail spoiled by the OP: apparently beastmen have human forms that they can switch to, yet Michiru can’t. Honestly, it sort of looks like she’s stuck in a halfway state—a kemonomimi for the most part, though with the nose and “mask”

2:10 Shirou appears surprised, and possibly skeptical, about Michiru being unable to switch forms, indicating that it is by far the norm to be able to do so

2:35 Ah, by the way Michiru speaks about it, switching forms seems to be common knowledge even among humans. Shirou says “Quit talking like a human” in response to the idea that they’re always in beast form, which means this is a common human misconception (and this comes up later as well, illustrating how Michiru really comes across as human in little ways).

2:45 Bystanders seem to be paying special attention to Michiru, likely to her form. (This sets up what happens later over her inability to assume a human form)

Cooperative

3:00 A lot about this scene speaks to me as a trans person: someone running tests that “prove” someone’s identity and insisting that what they see on the surface is all there is to the truth

3:35 Michiru says she must be afflicted with a “disease”, reminding me of the worries I had about a pharmaceutical company being behind the city and how there may be a darker purpose involving a “cure.” Unsettlingly, Michiru also isn’t far off from saying that being a beastman—the very existence of beastmen—is itself a disease. (Mind, she doesn’t literally say that, but based on things she says at the end of the episode, it may not be too far off from how she actually feels—right now.)

4:00 Back to trans stuff, this reminds me of how being trans was, as a whole, labeled as “Gender Identity Disorder”, categorized as a mental illness rather than a natural state of being. (Also, I’m currently building a headcanon of Michiru being a trans girl. Not only because of this stuff, but also due to how she reacted to being called a tanuki: I can interpret her as feeling gender incongruence/dysphoria over the big balls thing.)

4:30 Interesting that this is a “cooperative”. Are they technically not part of the government and are more independent than that? Or maybe the term means something else in Japan.

4:40 Again with trans feels. Filling out forms and needing to identify as something you don’t actually see yourself as

4:50 (Didn’t catch that my first time around: different blood types? Wonder if blood harvesting and blood mixing will be a thing. Remembering the kids that were about to be sold off... Might these things be connected?)

(Rather than making things shorter, this is just resulting in me going even more in-depth. Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.)

5:10 Probably a bit of an exaggeration that you can’t get back anything stolen from you: says more about how this is a seedier place than the video in episode 1 let on. We sort of got that from Michiru being pickpocketed in the first place, but this lets us know that that wasn’t an irregular occurrence

5:30 (Also didn’t really absorb this my first watch, but it does make sense that Michiru has been sleeping outside while on the run. Doesn’t feel good to think about how she had to spend that time being scared of the humans around her.)

5:40 Kuro is a wonderfully round birb.

6:10 Michiru making the same connected that I made (and that the audience in general is probably expected to make) about Shirou potentially being that big wolf who was up on the rooftops

6:25 Michiru probably expected Anima-City to be the end of her struggles where everything would just be better and easier. Indeed, she is young and naive.

The Next Morning

7:20 While Michiru may be surprised by the “rule of the strong” here, it does work effectively in parallel with the focus that has been put on money (between these two episodes). The powerful get to do what they want, whether it comes from physical strength or financial power. When it comes down to it, the human world, under a capitalist framework, doesn’t behave all that differently

7:45 Oh, Shirou has some sort of direction connection with the mayor and/or the government. Is this what they meant by “social worker”? Is he some sort of government agent? Does he have the extrajudicial authority to just beat people up (and even kill them?) the way he did with those terrorists?

9:00 (Considering Marie’s apparent connection to Rabbit Town, she probably does have some connection to the pickpocket. But now that I’m making this connection... Did Marie bring those kids to Rabbit Town after they were separated from their parents by beastman hunters?)

Rabbit Town

9:25 My very first expectation with a place called “Rabbit Town” was something akin to “Little China Town”

9:35 Then it struck me as something of a red light district

10:00 And we learn what Michiru might have to deal with in the future for being unable to switch to a human form: more people may think she’s trying to pick a fight.

10:15 Saying that she’s “not some baby” indicates that there are people who can’t control their forms: young children. Or, perhaps, someone who hasn’t been a beastman for a long time. (Maybe she’ll figure it out when/if she gets back with the kids she helped rescue.)

10:45 (Struck by how “coincidental” it is that someone like Grand Grandma would end up with a random kid’s wallet. It’s making me think that the pickpocket and Marie actually funnel people into this person-trafficking ring)

11:15 With my early impression of Rabbit Town being some sort of red light district, I thought this was some sort of communal daycare. (But seeing it again, I’m noticing how stern these women are at seeing the children. Definitely doesn’t look like they care about the kids.)

11:20 The line about them being “women who were betrayed by men”, and the following lines, really fit in with my thinking that this was a red light district, and they probably just didn’t want to outright say these were sex workers. (And maybe some of them are, but it turns out to be far from the whole picture)

11:40 And it does seem to be the image they want to give to Michiru: that they’re a bunch of women struggling together with all of these kids to take care of. There was also a bit about “what it’s like to live as a beastman” which makes me think that it’s definitely the norm for beastmen to be poor—not a surprise since they are clearly an oppressed minority group

Literacy

12:05 Totally expected “Poop” to become the kids’ nickname for Michiru. (Glad it didn’t since it would have made it harder to really care about what happens later.)

12:50 Look at these cuties wanting to learn. (And sobering in retrospect to think how this is probably the most care and attention they’ve had in a while.)

13:10 I forgot to say something about it last episode, but the way Shirou’s sense of smell is visualized is amazing.

13:20 Again with the red light district impression, I was thinking this was the arrival of a pimp or something

13:40 I appreciate Michiru caring about what the kid is already doing instead of reprimanding them for not paying attention

14:00 So we learn about Silver Wolf, who could be the wolf Michiru saw when she arrived in the city. Since Shirou seems to be that wolf, does that mean he’s actually Silver Wolf? Is this an urban legend based on him? Or is he actually some sort of god?

Money

14:45 The demands of payment really played into my pimp impression, but then this guy mentions “letting these women be gangsters.” They could totally still be sex workers as well, but this clues us in that these women may be involved in shadier stuff

15:10 I wonder if the politics of these criminal groups will come more into play in the future. Wouldn’t be surprised if some of the villains we meet end up being allies by the end, considering the way Trigger tends to tell their stories.

15:35 “It’s all women are good for anyway” is an impressively disgusting line to tell us that they’ve been talking about selling the kids. Also, I wonder what it means for the mayor to know about the kids: that the government will be sending people to rescue the kids and shut them down...or that the mayor would be interested in buying...

15:45 The line about the kids being “snatched away” probably means the mayor, so probably not about buying the kids. Still doesn’t mean the “rescue” could end up being more nefarious than it would seem. (Look, I just don’t trust the head of a pharmaceutical company also being a mayor, especially when a video about the city was directly associated with the company instead of being its own thing.)

15:55 Given the earlier scene between Shirou and the mayor, and Shirou being here, I guess he’s something like the mayor’s enforcer? Her trusty hand that does what needs to be done? But I’d also guess that if the mayor is secretly a villain, Shirou has no idea

Trafficking

16:30 I immediately put together that these kids were probably separated from their parents due to attacks by those beastman hunters. (And earlier in this post is when I retroactively put together that Marie, or people with the same job, likely gave/sold the kids to Grand Grandma, if they don’t work for her directly.)

16:40 The rule of the powerful coming up again. This is the way this world (and our world) works. (Which I could go off on a political tangent about, but I’ll refrain for now.)

16:55 Michiru is an atheist. Or at least incredibly pragmatic. Not the most helpful thing to say to people who literally can’t do anything in this situation, but I appreciate the sentiment of actually doing what you can instead of hoping someone else does something about it

17:20 Hmm, no one seems too surprised about Michiru’s expanding tail powers. Maybe this is a relatively normal tanuki thing?

18:00 But the stretchy arms totally aren’t normal, even for a tanuki. Thinking about it, no one else has obviously shown any kind of powers yet. Shirou’s fight with the terrorists could have just been his physical prowess. Do these powers have something to do with Michiru’s transformation from human to beastman?

18:50 In case you didn’t catch on to everyone’s surprise, confirmation that what Michiru just did was very unusual.

19:25 Never a big fan of the “even if they’re women” line. They’ve been doing a very bad thing. Stopping them shouldn’t have anything to do with gender. Why even bring it up. But I guess it does play into Shirou being a masculine and “chivalrous” type of character, as well as this being a generally patriarchal society (which isn’t really any different from our world). (Thinking back to my post on the previous episode, I guess “this isn’t too different from our world” is probably the point that the pseudo-branding contributes to.)

20:00 It seems that Shirou’s relationship to the police is less like Batman, and more like he just outranks them.

20:20 “Facility” is such a cold and impersonal term that it really does make me worry about what the government is going to do with these kids. Again, pharmaceutical company. (I’ll make sure to go back to episode 1 and get a better look at the company’s actual name so I can use that. May as well if I’ll continue to make a big fuss over it.)

20:35 “Even though you’re a beastman, don’t you have a human heart?” is a horribly offensive question. I was initially going to refer to it as a microaggression, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how terrible it is. It’s heavily loaded with the ideas: 1) beastmen are expected to be bad, hence the “even though”, and 2) being human is inherently a good thing. Despite what she said to Shirou at the end of last episode, it seems that she really just has the inverse of his beliefs. And this is so clearly something that only a human would say that it convinces Grand Grandma of Michiru’s “humanity”

21:20 Shirou, needing to wait for evidence before he can do anything, kind of illustrates Michiru’s point of view of not being able to count on society—on anyone else—to be able to help you.

21:30 Shirou, representing the police and government authority to an extent, believing that he “never makes mistakes” again reminds me of the protests we’ve had throughout this year. How the police totally does make mistakes—or rather, the way they don’t even view things they’ve done as mistakes—is totally a problem. (ACAB)

21:40 Following up on what Grand Grandma mentioned earlier about being “betrayed by men”, Michiru questions why it’s only “women and children” that Shirou is protecting. Is it that men don’t need to be protected? “What makes males so special? Are men really that great?”

21:55 And Michiru outright says what she had only implied earlier. Also, she seems a bit scattered between being angry at men, being angry at beastmen, being angry at the police, bring angry at society, and being angry in general. But I get it.

And that’s the end of the episode. I’m not sure if this is how I’ll continue to do these impressions, but I guess I’ll have to see how I feel about it once I get to episode 3. Maybe I’ll try out some genuine first-impressions, even if it means interrupting the episode constantly.

#bna #first impressions

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project-stormblessed · 4 years

Note

1-50

Alrighty!

1. What color are your socks?

All of my socks are either completely black or black and gray. Lol.

2. Have you ever lied about your age? Why?

Only once when I was like, 12 or 13 making a second Youtube account lol.

3. What is something you regret in the past month?

Becoming distant and isolating myself from most of my friends. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health tbh.

4. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Honestly? Not sure. Part of me doesn’t, and part of me does. Can’t really get either part to agree one way or the other.

5. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper? Definitely well over a decade ago. Honestly can’t remember.

6. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? Who taught you?

I was 11 or 12, and it was my older brother Jack who taught me. He also taught me how to drive lol.

7. Do you get along with your parents? Why or why not?

We get along well enough. Now that they’re retired the house is a much calmer environment.

8. What’s your favorite season?

Spring. I love seeing everything in bloom—the colors are very pleasing to me. I love seeing lots of green, and lots of lush plantlife.

9. Do you currently like someone?

Hmm, not entirely sure about that one. I guess I don’t really have any strong feelings for anyone in particular. Maybe. 👀👀

10. Have you ever used an Ouija board?

Nope, and I don’t plan on it.

11. What’s the last song you sang?

It was a song for choir this past semester, though I don’t remember the title that well or the composer.

12. What’s your favorite scent?

Never really had a favorite scent, honestly. My sense of smell has been pretty dull/weak for as long as I can remember and I’ve never really given much thought to any favorite scent.

13. What’s your favorite urban legend?

The Roswell UFO incident of 1947. It sparked my interest in aliens and UFOs at a very young age, and is probably responsible for a good deal of my love for sci-fi.

14. What’s a bad habit that you have?

Poor self control when it comes to time management. I tend to let myself get absorbed in things.

15. What’s a strange habit that you have?

Hmm. Totally blanked and could only come up with “making noises and pretending to be a mech of some sort when moving around my house”. That’s all I got.

16. What’s the first instrument you learned to play?

Piano. I started learning at 8 years old.

17. How would you describe your ‘type’?

Y’know funny enough I’ve never really thought I had a type. However reaching my mid-twenties has made me realize that my ‘type’ is kind, compassionate, goofy, and nerdy/geeky.

18. Would you rather stay in or go out?

Depends on the company, I guess. Though, usually I prefer to stay in anyway.

19. What was the last thing you said to your mom?

“I’m taking Dax out.” When I went for a walk with my dog lol.

20. Do you want to get married someday?

Definitely didn’t used to. I’m at the point where I’d be down if my partner wanted to, though I’m not sure I’d wanna spend a shitload of money on a wedding. Guess it depends on financial status at the time and the preferences of my partner.

21. Have you ever snuck out?

Nah, though I never needed to. My parents typically let me leave house whenever I wanted to as long as I told them who I’m with and when-ish I’m going to be home.

22. Can you sing well?

I can match pitch pretty well, but I can’t produce pitch un-aided. Usually. So kinda. I’m ok at best, all things considered.

23. What’s an embarrassing thing that happened this week?

I went off on some of my friends over something kinda silly because my mental state as of late hasn’t been all that great.

24. When was the last time you went sledding?

Uhhh, definitely more than ten years ago.

25. Have you ever liked/do you like someone you know you can never be with?

You kidding me? That’s like, all of my crushes ever. Maybe that’s an exaggeration but honestly it’s certainly FELT that way each time.

26. Do people often mispronounce your name?

No, though I have known a few people throughout my life that said “Bin” rather than “Ben”. I eventually realised it was an accent thing and stopped giving a shit very early.

27. Would you like to live in another country?

Yes, actually. For no small number of reasons. I’ve always wanted to live in Italy ever since I visited when I was 15.

28. Do you like to watch ghost hunting shows?

I definitely used to. I don’t really watch tv much in general anymore, though.

29. Who was the last person you said “I love you” too?

My mom.

30. What’s something you’d like to be better at?

Social interaction. Speaking in general. I’m MUCH more articulate in writing/typing than I am speaking.

31. Have you ever stayed up with someone who was sad?

Yes, and I’m always willing to do so.

32. What was the last thing you cooked?

I helped my good friend prepare some bomb ass ramen a few months back. I guess that counts.

33. Do you think you’d make a good parent?

I’d like to think so, yeah. I would make sure my children know I’m always there for them and will support the hell out of them.

34. Do you have trouble sleeping at night?

I don’t, but my dipshit body does.

35. Where is your best friend right now?

All of them are either playing video games or asleep.

36. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Factoring in every aspect of the morning ritual, about 40 minutes. That’s if I’m going somewhere like work or school. If I’m staying home then there’s no getting ready for anything but sitting on my ass lol.

37. How late do you usually stay up at night?

Depends on the time of year/what I’m doing the next day. Right now during quarantine I average anywhere between 2am and 6am. I’m trying to fix that currently.

38. When was the last time you cried and why?

The last time I truly cried was sometime in 2015. I was listening to Breaking Benjamin’s latest album and feeling exceedingly lonely/depressed. It wasn’t a great day.

39. Have you ever won a contest?

None that I can remember, honestly.

40. Can you draw well?

Lol. No. I have very little visual artistic talent or skill.

41. Would you ever date someone you met on tumblr/the internet?

Definitely, though obviously I wouldn’t just jump right in. I’m down for long distance relationships, too. But obviously mutual trust and emotional connection would have to be established first.

42. What was the last thing you ate?

Some brownie fudge M&Ms lol.

43. Do you think you’re/you’d make a good boyfriend?

I don’t really know. Never been in a relationship so I don’t have anything go off of. On the one hand I’m super understanding, laid back, and accepting of boundaries. I just want to make sure people feel comfortable and safe around me. On the other hand I’m also forgetful and very selfish when it comes to my time. I also obviously have plenty of emotional trauma/baggage (who doesn’t?) that tends to impede how I interact with people, so. 🤷🏼‍♂️

44. Have you ever had a near death experience?

Not that I can remember, and I hope I never do. The closest I think I ever came was when I fell off a ropeless bridge into a dry riverbed at 4 years old. Got a concussion from that.

45. What do you think people think of you?

Well, my anxiety tells me I’m annoying and boring. The logical side of me tells me most people in my life enjoy my company, so I guess there’s that.

46. What is your middle name and do you like it?

Don’t feel like sharing my middle name here, but I will say I don’t dislike it. Kinda neutral.

47. Are you close with either of your parents?

Kinda. My parents were often emotionally distant/abusive to my brothers and me growing up, and it’s left me rather stunted emotionally, and generally unwilling to establish a deeper relationship with them. We’re a bit closer than we were when I was a teenager, but honestly not much.

48. Do you like yourself?

Generally speaking? No. There are parts of me I’m proud of, but honestly I often find myself wishing I was someone else. I’m far from the self-loathing I experienced when I was younger, though.

49. State five facts about your appearance—

1. I’m 6’1”-ish.

2. Definitely just a bit chubby.

3. Blue eyes.

4. Currently sporting longer hair because I haven’t had a haircut since about September.

5. I have a number of faded scars on my arms from various self inflicted/work related injuries. All of them were caused by extreme clumsiness/poor spacial awareness.

50. State five facts about your personality—

1. I’m super goofy—I make lots of weird noises and motions.

2. I tend to ramble about things I’m interested in, particularly hyper fixations.

3. I like to think I’m a pretty compassionate human being.

4. Extremely awkward, but strangely that doesn’t show because I’m apparently a social chameleon.

5. I’m an observer, but also an overthinker.

Whew, that was a lot! Thank you, friend!

#asks #answered asks

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 5 years

Text

Falling for the Holidays Ch. 25

Title: Falling for the Holidays Ch. 25

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 2223

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children. However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Warnings: Angst, Gun, Usage of Gun, Unsafe Gun Handling, Angst, Endangerment to a young child, Fear, Wounded, and Angst.

A/N: Dudettes! Get this… once I finished this chapter, I giggled to myself and then proceeded to say, “ooh, Eileen! You fucking bitch!” But like in a good way. Haha. I am so excited for you guys to read this chapter! I will admit, it was a little tough because I didn’t know how to word it, and I’m worried that it might be a little confusing to comprehend what I was trying to get across… but I hope I’m wrong and that you guys will like it! I can’t wait to read all your reactions! So please, feedback would be amazing! I’d love to know what you all thought of this chapter and the series! Thanks again for reading! You guys are beautiful! xx

On his way to the Winchester’s home, Rufus had called in a crime scene back at the diner. Things had just dropped into some deep shit. As he pulled into the drive way, John was already opening the door and stepping out to greet him.

“Rufus, what’s wrong?” John asked, allowing the sheriff into his home.

“Things just got serious, and I know you wanted to keep this on the down low, but I had to call my men to take care of things back at the diner,” he informed, taking a seat at the dining table where Mary and Jess were already waiting. “Mary’s car is still there, and I might have, literally, stumbled over some important evidence.”

“What kind of evidence?” John asked, his stomach churning.

“I don’t want to alarm anyone, but I think I found a possible weapon. There was blood on a large rock next to the car, and I’m sure your boys probably found it too. We don’t know who’s blood it is yet, but my men are on it,” Rufus assured.

Mary’s hands covered her mouth with fear in her eyes. Jess wrapped her arms around Mary tightly, burying her face into the older woman’s shoulder. “How long would it take until we find out who’s blood it is?” Mary asked.

“We’re working as fast as we can. I’d say four hours at the least, could be more. But our forensic team is one of the best, so rest assured. We’re gonna figure it out.”

Mary nodded while John just gave Rufus an understanding glare. “So what do we do now?” John asked.

“We need to find your boys ASAP. Ketch… he’s a real bad guy. I knew the name was familiar. To be honest, I’m surprised the boy wasn’t walking around with an alias. Probably thought since it’s been a long time, no one would notice. Especially around here.”

“What are you talking about, Rufus. Details. I need details,” John encouraged.

“I was getting there. Just hold your horses,” he sassed, earning a pointed look from the worried father bear in front of him. “Look, his full name is Arthur Ketch. He is in a line of work that can get many people hurt. He’s what you can call a collector,” Rufus placed the witness sketch on the table, revealing a pretty honest drawing of the felon. He looked a little different. His face was slimmer, hair a little longer and shaggier, but it was still easy to tell it was him.

“He collects things and sells them in the International Underground Black Market. Sometimes they get clients who reach out to them to obtain a certain object, or objects, in exchange for a hefty sum. People like him will do anything to get what they want. And I mean anything. We caught scent of him a few years back. Almost got him, but the kid was fast. Young, scrawny, and could get through all sorts of spaces. Eventually, the case was out of our hands because the Bureau figured he’d moved on. One thing is for sure, men like Ketch never stay in one place for too long. I don’t know what he would be doing back here.”

“Because he’s a stalker. Probably followed Y/N here, using that family bullshit as an excuse,” the words flowed out of Jess’s lips without a care of filter.

“Stalkers aren’t right in the head. And not only that, this man is a practically a serial killer. He’s left body all over the world. Didn’t even bother to clean up his messes, and he didn’t have to. No one could ever trace him.”

“It’s almost Christmas and all this is happening,” Mary started to sob. “My boys are in danger and Y/N could be dead.”

“How did you get this drawing of him?” John interceded the direction of the conversation.

“Remember Pastor Jim? That break in at the church? Ketch was after an old goblet that was claimed to be used for demonic rituals. An ancient relic used to communicate with the devil. Pastor Jim had it locked away in a safe under the church. Ketch managed to steal it and left Jim for dead, but thankfully the medics got to him on time.”

“But didn’t Pastor Jim pass away?” Mary questioned.

“That he did, but before that, he was able to give a description.”

“Why didn’t we hear anything about this?” John inquired.

“This case was classified by the FBI. They have been tracking these Collectors all over the world, but it’s difficult. You see, there is no pattern. There is never a witness. And if there was, someone came back to get rid of any loose ends, just like they did Jim. These Collectors, they’ve got friends in low and high places. It almost seems impossible,” Rufus sighed. “I don’t know how the FBI is dealing with it, but all I know is that they are.”

John sat back in his seat, running his hands down his face, trying to absorb all the information he’s been given. How could something go from zero to a hundred so fast?

“If this man is as dangerous as you say, and he’s stalking Y/N, then my boys are in danger. They all are. They all could already be dead,” Mary cried.

The room was tense at Mary’s words. It was possible. It very well may be, but they needed to be hopeful. They needed to think positive. They needed to find them.

“Don’t be like that Mary. We don’t know nothin’ yet. We need to find your boys first. Jody said that when Y/N went to get her purse at the diner, Lisa and Ketch were having lunch. That they seemed to know each other. So I’m gonna go pay Lisa a little visit. It’s possible that Lisa is also in danger.”

“Or maybe Lisa’s in with that Ketch guy,” Jess hissed, Lisa and Ketch’s name leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

“None sense. Lisa maybe crazy, but she’s still a good girl. She wouldn’t do something like that. She wouldn’t put Dean, or any of my boys in trouble. She wouldn’t bring such a dangerous man near Ben.”

“We’re gonna find out,” Rufus added.

“And I’m coming with you,” John insisted.

“I’m sorry John, but I can’t let you do that. This is a job for the police. Besides, you’ve got two frightened women here at home that needs you. Also, I need you here in case Sam, Dean, or Y/N comes back. Give me a call if they do, alright?” Rufus stood up from his seat as John nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.”

The sound of tires screeching against the pavement drew Ketch, Lisa, and Bela’s attention. Thinking quick on his feet, Ketch put his hands behind his head and fell to his knees beside your unconscious body. Lisa and Bela gave him with a confused look, the gun still pointed at him.

The door burst open, splinters flying through the air from the force of Dean’s foot. When Sam and Dean came into view, Lisa and Bela went wide eyes, while Ketch’s stoic expression turned into that of fear. “What the hell is going on here?” Dean barked, taking in the sight before him.

“H-help me, please!” Ketch shouted, his voice shaking with terror.

“Bela drop the gun,” Sam said calmly, arms out to show that he wasn’t going to try anything.

“No. This guy is a psychopath!” The tall brunette spat.

Dean’s eyes landed on your motionless body on the couch, next to where Ketch was on his knees. “Y/N!” Dean yelped, rushing over to her. “What the happened to her?” Dean shot Ketch a deadly glare, sitting beside her at the edge of the couch.

“I’ll tell you anything you want. I’m innocent, I swear,” Ketch blurted. “It’s true. You’re not Ben’s father. I am,” Ketch revealed, Lisa’s eyes going wide.

Dean sent Ketch a surprised look before quickly turning his head to glare at Lisa, his eyes hard and accusing. “Is that true? Ketch is the father?” Lisa was at a loss for words. She didn’t know what to say. When her lips parted to speak, Dean cute her off. “And this time, don’t you dare lie to me!”

“H-he’s lying,” Lisa continued her deceptions.

“I’m telling you the truth,” Ketch jumped in. “Years ago, I met the two of them at a party. We were all a little drunk, and they both came on to me. I was young back then. How was I supposed to pass up that kind of opportunity? Months later, Lisa contacted me, telling me about the baby.”

“Shut up Ketch!” Lisa barked.

Ketch caster her a wary glance, thinking if he should continue, but he took the chance anyway. “I couldn’t be a father, and I know that makes me a terrible man, but I had my dream job waiting for me back in London. I was young and had a bright future. A baby was the last thing on my mind. But I told her I’d pay the child support, and I have been since, but she wanted more. She wanted Ben to have a father. A good father that would be there for him. So she came up with this elaborate scheme to make you believe that Ben was yours. She told me that if I helped her get back with you, I would no longer have to pay the child support and that she’d leave me alone forever. The only thing that was in the way was Y/N. And by coincidence, the last time I was in Lawrence, Y/N and I ended up on the same flight heading over to Dallas, and having the seats next to each other.”

“Lies! You’re a liar!” Lisa shouted, snatching the gun from Bela’s hand and pointing it back at Ketch. “Shut up.” If Lisa wanted anyone to believe her, she was doing a shit job. Every word she said, every move she made, all of it only made her look guilty.

“Lisa!” Bela was startled. Bela never had any intentions of hurting Ketch. She wasn’t about to get blood on her hands. But when Lisa took the gun from her, she knew how unstable Lisa was. How desperate she was.

“Whoa,” Sam raised his hands up out of instincts.

Ketch watched Lisa, and Dean could see the hesitation in his eyes. Dean didn’t want to believe it, but he felt like he could believe Ketch more than he could Lisa.

“Lisa, put the gun down,” Dean said calmly, despite his anger stirring inside of him.

“No,” she spat, pointing the gun at Ketch. She’s never held a gun before. One slip and she could shoot anyone… kill any one.

“Lisa…” Dean warned.

The room was silent before Ketch took a chance and spoke again. If worse came to worse, he could use Dean as a shield.

“Like I said…” Ketch started, “Y/N caught us talking about it and ran off. Lisa got impatient and panicked and chased after her. She hit her over the head with a rock. Y/N’s been out ever since. We brought her back here and I patched her up.”

“Why not call the police, or bring her to the hospital?” Sam asked.

“I thought she would be okay, that I could patch her up and she’d wake up soon, but when she did, I suggested we go to the hospital, but Lisa refused. And when I mentioned the police, they freaked out and pulled a gun out on me. And that’s when you and your brother showed up.”

“Liar!” Lisa shouted, her grip on the gun tightening.

“Mom! Look what I made!” Ben shouted, trampling down the stairs, interrupting the intensity of the current situation and startling his mother.

BANG! Her finger slipped.

Ben jumped, his scream piercing through the house! Lisa dropped the gun and it fired a second time. Everyone cowered at the sound. Sam noticed the gun and quickly grabbed it to ensure it didn’t get into the wrong hands. Bela was the first person to reach Ben, the young boy curling into her arms crying. Ketch closed in on himself a little, his hands still up where they could see it, but he was fine.

“Any one hurt?” Sam asked, scanning the room.

“Sammy?” Dean choked, a dark spot spreading in the middle of his gray shirt as blood dribbled down the side of his lips.

“Dean!” Sam shouted. “Someone call 9-1-1!”

Dean watched Sam approach him, sliding the gun in the back of his pants under his shirt. He could see Sam talking but all he could hear was a high pitched ringing sound. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. He saw Ben and Bela wrapped up in each other, he saw Lisa staring at him with wide eyes, and he could see Ketch getting up.

“S-Sam—” Dean gurgled.

“Dean! Dean! Hang in there! Please! Dean! Someone! Call 9-1-1! Ketch, please!” Sam begged, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Ketch got up, dialing 9-1-1 on his phone. As Ketch made the call, Sam leaned his brother against the couch on the floor. Dean turned his head to face you, still out cold.

“Y-Y/N…” he called, and then everything went dark.

Like it? Reblog it! Share it! Leave feedback! It’s my fuel and any writer’s fuel! Also, I would highly appreciate it! :)

Say Something Nice Here!

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medea10 · 5 years

Text

Medea Rambles...It’s Reality

I would really love to put up a review today. Really, I would. And I would love to talk about the latest Pokemon episode, really I would...But, I'm not in the mood. Because of certain events, I'm not in any mood for my usual Sunday shenanigans.

Whenever I pick up my phone and see that damned CNN Alert message, I think one of three things has happened.

1. Trump said or did something incredibly stupid, illegal, or dickheadishly stupid.

2. A celebrity from my childhood died.

3. A massacre has occurred and was caused by gun violence.

And in the past seven days, that third option has come up more often than not. Now, by no means am I fully against guns. It's not my thing, if you like hunting, by all means. If you feel you need it for protection, I don't give a flying fig. However, there are certain guns that really shouldn't be in the hands of anyone. Period! And each time I hear about what a gunman uses, it's usually an AK or an AR-15 or some other monstrosity that really shouldn't be in the hands of (what it seems like) very unstable men. And in a lot of these massacres including the last three prominent tragedies, these very unstable men are under the age of 25.

That is fucking frightening.

Why would anyone want to go to an open place like a school, a Walmart, a gay nightclub, a concert on the Vegas strip, a church, a mosque, a synagogue, a local pub, a college campus, or a garlic festival to shoot up innocent people?

Oh yeah, all of these places have been shot up in the last couple of years. And again I need to say, THREE OF THESE HAPPENED JUST THIS WEEK ALONE!

I remember being in middle school when the Columbine shooting happened and in shock over what I was witnessing. Now it’s by no means the first gun massacre in our country and sure as fuck wasn’t the last. But the mere fact that this was a high school and these were students being slaughtered raised a lot of eyebrows. Now not much action was taken at the time, but there were plenty of back-and-forths over who was to blame for this. Being in middle school, they pretty much blamed all the things I liked including video games, South Park, and Marilyn Manson. Seriously, just because Dylan and Eric listened to Manson, all Manson listeners were going to go on a killing rampage? Fuck you then and fuck you now!

Then I remember 12 years ago with Virginia Tech and freaking out because, hey, I’m a college student. Who’s to say UNM wouldn’t end up on the national news one day because of a tragedy involving gun violence? Then again, I’m just a paranoid, autistic person and I worry over everything.

But then it wouldn’t just be at a school...it would be in places you wouldn’t expect. A strip mall in Arizona. A theater in Aurora, Colorado. And even an elementary school in Connecticut.

Yes, I have to talk about Sandy Hook! Twenty 1st graders and their educators were gunned down. That should have been the final straw in taking some freakin’ action! These were six and seven year olds going to school. AND RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS FOR CORN SAKE! Because of this, my cousin has a quiet room in his home where his daughter used to play and sleep.

Yeah, not-so fun fact about Medea. I have a relation to one of the victims in Sandy Hook.

So imagine my disgust with pukes like Alex Jones attacking these families, calling them out for faking their children deaths. Alex Jones can just drop from the face of the earth and I’ll sleep like a baby at night. But like with Columbine, not much action was done. Even though President Obama tried, he couldn’t get Congress and Senate to pass any kind of gun regulation laws.

I would like to blame it on the fact that both the house and senate were Republican-led at the time and whatever the black president wanted to happen, they told him to sit and spin because fuck your needs! Yeah, I want to say that they’re all a bunch of racist crackers, but most of them are still kinda lobbyed by the NRA. And when I say kinda, I mean, these guys are willing to lick boots for the NRA and screw the safety of the people.

So, no gun regulations happen and more tragedies continue happening. It wasn’t really until the San Bernadino tragedy that lawmakers wanted to do something. But not about gun regulation! No, because in that particular tragedy, the people causing the mayhem were part of ISIS (or so they claim). If the shooter is someone from a different place other than the U.S., they hate us for our freedom and this is terrorism. But if a white guy from Ohio does it, it’s just a sad day in America.

Now there are many of factors to these killers. Mental health is a big factor played in many of these tragedies. Yes, that is a biggie in general. Because people suffering from mental illness are statistically more likely to be a victim of gun violence than to commit one. People only bring up mental illness if the shooter is a white, American-born boy and soon enough, they’ll drop the subject of helping folks with this problem. How about we talk about gun regulation?! Have weapons of war off the streets and out of our homes! No one needs guns that can turn a body into swiss cheese in a matter of seconds given to a regular joe. Oh and once again, nothing happens. Even after we get some of the worst shootings after Sandy Hook! Because while 20 1st graders being gunned down in a classroom was pretty fucked up, we ended up with more obscene tragedies.

Just to name a few, the Pulse Night Club shooting in Orlando, FL where 49 people lost their lives (during Pride Month no less), an outdoor concert on the Las Vegas strip where 58 people died, and another high school shooting in Parkland, FL where 17 students lost their lives. At least with the last shooting I mentioned, the surviving students had ENOUGH and demanded action. In some ways, change did happen. We have a new generation ask the questions my generation didn’t and the generations before ignored it all.

With the swearing-in of a new Congress in January (the first time it was Democratic majority since 2010), the first issue they took up was on gun regulation. And it passed the house! The only problem is that the leader of the senate has refused to let ANY of these bills pass. He just let’s it die. And then you have that same sonuvabitch send out thoughts and prayers? The Congress is trying to do something so we wouldn’t have to go through these horrible tragedies time and time again! Fuck you Mitch! No seriously, fuck you and shove those thoughts and prayers up your ass because we know what you’re all about! We saw you during the days of Sandy Hook!

And so we continue with this wave of gun tragedies! Only now, a lot of these recent shootings seem to have a certain, controversial thing in common. All of them either liked Donald Trump or praised his rhetoric. I know I shouldn’t tie any tragedy to any serving president. I didn’t blame Clinton for Columbine. I didn’t blame Bush for Virginia Tech. And I never blamed Obama for Aurora, Phoenix, or Sandy Hook. But Donald Trump is a whole ‘nother level of blame.

It’s safe to say we’ve NEVER had a president quite like this. Someone who would rile up his supporters in some frightening ways. I don’t want to repeat ANYTHING of what this fool says. He carefully words his statements to his base and watch these fringey people go off the deep-end. When you have a president blaming Mexicans, banning Muslims, and criticizing African-Americans, there’s a lot of toxicity to absorb. And I am sick of it!

A lot tragedies in the past two years have had the essence of Trump lingering around it. The man who sent bombs to Trump’s enemies last fall was a staunch Trump supporter. The man who shot up a Jewish synagogue last year, also believed in Trump’s words. As did the Parkland shooter! Oh, let’s not forget the man who shot up the mosque in New Zealand earlier this year, he believed in Trump too. And same with the two of the three shootings that has happened in the last 7 days. People trying to enjoy themselves as they eat garlic-flavored foodstuffs in Gilroy and families buying things they need for the upcoming school year in a Walmart in El Paso...all of them taken out by white supremacists guided by words of a lunatic leader who believes black and brown people are the enemy.

His words are not helping. His words are damaging.

I know gun violence has been a major issue way before Donald Trump became president. But this recent onslaught of violence is too much to bear. If he was a decent person, he would put an end to his disturbing rhetoric. No more of these “Go back to where you came from” tweets. That means calling out white supremacy when you see it! And cut the shit about good guys on both sides! When you have one side marching and shouting, “Jews Will Not Replace Us” and the other side finding offense to those words, this shouldn’t be a fucking debate!

This country needs to fucking change and change now. Whether it’s through legislation, replacing political representatives with people willing to give a damn, or overthrowing a dictator. Do it and do it now!

Sorry for this rant, but...I’m just tired of this happening over and over again. I’m almost to the point of being numb by these tragedies. And that shouldn’t happen.

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purple-moonlights-blog · 6 years

Text

STRAY KIDS 10th MEMBER AU

INTRODUCTION

This AU is heavily inspired by @k-llama-llama ! If you don’t know her I highly suggest checking out her blog, she and her writings are really sweet (also some good drama just started in her AU). 🌸

I’m not 100% sure where I’m going with this AU, so please feel free to request and suggest what could happen. I really want to take in ideas from people who are interested in the story. Don’t be shy loves! ♥︎

☾☼

Btw. I didn’t use her name until the very end because my dumb ass forgot to give her a name.

Also, in this scenario, Stray Kids themselves aren’t very present since it didn’t really fit. However, I promise that next time will be a lot of Stray Kids content!

▸ Check out the Profile HERE

▸ Request for the AU HERE

▸ MASTERLIST

Words: 2342

Warnings: Swearing?⎮ And weird grammar and spelling mistakes, English is not my native language⎮

I. NEW 〈NOVA〉

(gif not mine)

With her eyebrows knitted together and her upper-lip slightly twisted up, an expression her friend David stated to be her “trying to be polite but can’t help but judge“ look - or in other words, her being a twat visage - she stared at the man, probably in his mid-thirties, in front of her.

For the past five minutes he spoke very fast and in a very strong Satoori accent, she had difficulties to understand, and thereby wildly gesticulate with his arms. The longer he talked the more he began to sweat and looked noticeably more nervous. She wasn’t intentionally trying to be rude by not saying a word the whole time, even though she was more than once encouraged to respond to his rambling. However, due to her having a hard time progressing what he was saying - her Korean might be quite good, thanks to her mum compelling her and her brothers too Korean lesson since the early beginnings of their childhood, yet she only learned standard Korean - and immediately doubting what he was saying to be true, she kept her mouth shut until she had a clear picture of what was going on. From what she could grasp, the man was responsible to recruit trainees for entertainment companies, which in the end should turn them in successful idols, that bring big profits and put the companies into positive spotlights.

He explained that he was from JYP and that Park Jinyoung personally placed in order, after allegedly seeing a video of a street performance of her dancing and singing, to track her down and convince her to audition for his company. He further explained that JYP - the company - planned to form an idol group in the upcoming month of October through a survival show and JYP - the person - wanted her in it because she would in his opinion fit perfectly into the concept.

Bullocks, she instantly thought when he told her that.

She didn’t believe a word coming from his mouth. Yes, it was true that she appeared in multiple videos of street performances that are posted on YouTube, however, she was neither an outstanding dancer nor a Whitney Huston, at least in her opinion. The more he talked the more it sounded like the plot of a Wattpad fanfiction and as the result of her distinct sense of reality, which often came across as her being pessimistic, she knew stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life. It’s called Fan Fiction after all.

The whole story sounded like a lie somebody, who kidnaps young girls and boys for human trafficking by exploiting their naivety and their dreams to make it big once, would tell. By that, she suddenly remembered her 14 years old cousin Junsuh conspiracy theory rant about the Korean entertainment industries. Two weeks ago she visited her relatives in Ilsan, where her Junshu, as usually, didn’t stop talking. According to Junsuh, the industry is through and through corrupt - a single stronghold of prostitution rings, human trafficking, child exploitation and even religious cults and a secret origination that controls the whole south of Korea.

Even though Junsuh tends to get carried away with his theories - she strongly doubted, that one of the big three companies (he refused to tell which one) pays a religious cult to use black magic on the public, so they will only buy the albums of their artists - however, that it wasn’t only glamorous and that pressure and hard work take big role in the idols life, wasn’t a secret.

Earning her livelihood through music has always been a dream for her. From small on she loved to sing - back then extremely out of tune - and dance around. When in 2008 her cousin Jia (Junsuh’s older sister), while she and her family visited their relatives in Korea, showed her Shinee’s debut MV Replay, she fell in love. Immediately she learned the dances and lyrics to the songs and dreamed of being an idol herself. The combination of vocal, rap and dance fascinated her.

Yet, after time passes and she got older, her initial spirit disappeared almost completely. More and more she realized that she didn’t fit into the standard female idol category. Beginning with her appearance ending with her personality. She wouldn’t call herself a tomboy since she despite her boyish tendency still liked typical girly stuff. In end, she always thought of separating certain things in a boy and girl category as stupid.

One day, her aunt took her to the toy store when she was made 5 years old. She asked her aunt if she could have Hot Wheels for her birthday present. The saleswoman, however, who should help her to find something, asked if doesn’t want something that is more fitting for a girl. Her five-year-old self suddenly feeling insecure choose a creepy doll, which the sale woman suggested - she ended up giving the creepy doll to the family dog to play with.

„Look, you don’t need to say yes right now. But please just come to JYP building tomorrow for the audition. Well, it’s not really an audition, you are basically already in. You just need to say yes.“ The sudden change to a clean Seoul accent made her startle up from her thoughts. The man in front of her got now her full attention. He almost looked desperate.

It is probably favorable for his career if he gets me to come to the “audition“. South Korea is highly competitive after all, she guessed

„Okay.“

„It doesn’t take long either you….wait, what?“

„I said, okay. When should I be there?“ He looked at her seemingly being genuinely surprised to hear her agree. Sure, she only accepted because she felt bad for him. Also, her class started in 5 minutes and she simply didn’t want to be rude and refuse after his effort. Nonetheless, the fact that he knew her name and where she went to University, still creeped her out.

„Umm, well 10 a.m. Wait in front of the building, I will escort you in.“

„Good, I will be there.“ She said and then added quickly before she went ahead to run to the other side of the campus to still be on time for her class. „Have a good day.“

————

At 09:30 a.m. sharp she was in front of the JYP building. She always tended to come over punctual, mainly because she included the time she will need in case anything goes wrong by her taking the bus - a short 25-minute ride - from Seongdong District on the north bank of the Han River to Gangnam District, which lies on the south side of the Han River.

Traffic jam, traffic collision, plane crashes, nuclear attacks, apocalypse and what so ever. Her constant nagging anxiety back in her head made her throw her common sense out of the window more than once.

Certainly, she didn’t expect anything, she highly doubted that the apparent JYP staff member was being legit. Either somebody was playing a prank on her or one of Junsuh’s theories will be confirmed and she is going to be sold.

In a girl group, she would stand out and not in a good way like a pretty flower would. No, she would stand out like a purulent pimple in the middle of one’s forehead. Not like she was particularly ugly or different looking. The fact that she was not special looking was the issue. In general, she was glad about that. She was never big on being the center of attention. However, in the entertainment industry, like it or not, talent is not everything. And her being as interesting as an empty sheet of paper, surley didn’t take a chance.

After awkwardly standing around for good 25 minutes, somebody came out of the building. She immediately recognized him as the man from yesterday.

He wasn’t lying about working for JYP then, she thought.

As he looked to his left and saw her standing there, he sighed with relief and beckoned her over to him. By his reaction, she assumed that he obviously didn’t believe that she will come. But she was not the type to do tell somebody she would be there and then shamelessly not come without giving the other person a notice.

„You won’t regret this, believe me.“ He said as they walked through the lobby to the elevator. „They really want you in this group.“ Who he meant with they, she wasn’t sure. He chuckled awkwardly since she didn’t respond to anything he said but rather she just nodded and gave him a forced smile. Again, she wasn’t trying to be rude, for sure not, after all in her family having good manners was an essential part. Her very English grandmother would personally fly to Korea and beat her ass if she was being rude.

In the elevator were already three guys, she guessed them around her age, absorbed in a discussion about, from what she could understand, song lyrics.

„Listen, I swear it’s good.“ Said the guy, with the darkest hair of the three of them. „You can be Fiona today, I’ll be Shrek. Ugly kind immature swag.“

She snorted and quietly chuckled to herself. The guy closest to her with silver, curly hair her, who heard her laugh, looked over to her. He raised his brow’s at first and then gave her a shy smile, which she returned.

On the fifth floor, they left the elevator and male staff knocked two times on the first door in the hallway, before he opened it and showed with a quick hand gesture that she should follow him. In the room was big glass table where three men already sat. She immediately recognized the man seated in the middle.

It’s JYP, It really was not a joke after all.

„Ah, there she is. Please take a seat.“ JYP said and gestured on the chair opposite of him. She bowed and sat down.

After he asked the staff member to leave he continued: „I’m really glad you are here. When I saw your performance I know you will fit perfectly.“

„I was told, if I would accept the offer, I will participate in survival show, right?“ She asked, slowing starting to feel excited. Even though, she gave up on her dream of being an idol a long time ago - better said, she never really tried in the first place. Deep down she still wanted to achieve that and such an opportunity she couldn’t refuse. Even if that meant she had to change herself to fit in.

„Yes, exactly. I really hope you take this chance. Even though you don’t have a training period as the other trainees participating, I believe you have potential.“

„Okay, I’m in. Where do I have to sign“ she said, full of newly found elan. The three men chuckled surprised about her sudden enthusiasm.

„The formalities we will sort out later.“ JYP answered, „Stray Kids, the name of the group you might debut in, has currently nine male trainees, which your leader Bang Chan handpicked himself.“

„Boys?“ She questioned confused.

„Yes, the management and I decided by making Stray Kids a co-ed group it will be more favorable in the future.“ He continued undeterred. She had to stop herself from making a snarky comment and asking them if they are trying to be edgy be doing that.

There is no need to act like a twat right now!

„But none of our female trainees fit in Stray Kids. So, I was obviously pleased when I found you. I hope I’m not going to regret this.“ The last part sounded bitter and her previous enthusiasm was slowly suppressed by the anxiety creeping up her throat, making her feel sick.

She didn’t want to back away now.

Maybe it’s better to be in a male-dominated group. It’s not like I fit in a girl group either, she tried to calm herself down mentally.

However, the fact that all other trainees were chosen by Stray Kids leader personally and that she basically was being forced onto them, made her feel like she was going to vomit.

„They are already informed about your addition to the group. In fact, I want them to get to know you right now. Teamwork is important and the faster you warm up to each the better!“ With that, he stood up, bowed to his colleges and told her to follow him. She bowed to the older men too and left after JYP.

„The kids are probably in the practice room right now. Since they got the chance to debut, they have been prating twice as hard.“ He said, obviously proud about the trainee’s dedication. „I heard they are very excited to meet you.“

Bollocks! I will be extremely out of place. No way any of them are excited for a possible female member.

Despite, her anxiety she didn’t wanna give up this time. She can’t just run away every time there was a construction put in her way. At last, trying wasn’t going to kill.

They went down to the second floor. At the end of the hallway, JYP opened the wooden door to the practice room and stepped in. As JYP and she entered, four guys who sat on the floor rushed to stand up and joined five other guys to bow to their CEO. Some looked very young to her. She would have guessed at least two of them fifteen years old at most.

„Please introduce yourself to them,“ JYP told her and encouraged her with a quick hand gesture to step in front.

All eyes were on her now. Some of them seemed curious, others just stared at her expressionless. And then, there was the guy with the silver hair from the elevator. He looked at her like he wanted to burn her down with his gaze. She honestly couldn’t take offense at that. Like, she understood his seeming dislike of her.

„My Name is Seol Nova and I hope we can work well together.

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acaipsychelife · 7 years

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Hello Acai! I was wondering if you could detail the steps you took to understanding astrology? For example, the order in which you studied all the different aspects of astrology. I'm trying to study it at the moment and I just want to see if there are some important things that I may have overlooked especially seeing as how I've only been studying seriously for just over a year so I'm barely a novice! The world of astrology to me is so beautifully expansive, it's easy to get lost in!

Thank you for asking! If you don’t mind, this will be a long ramble about my experiences, then I’ll get to advice for you...

Honestly, the fact that I got into it at such a young age wasn’t necessarily for the better. My mother is an astrologer but she was just a beginner until the last decade or so, it was like we learned together, sort of... My mom started taking me to the Tucson Astrologers’ Guild when I was ten, at that point, I had a general idea of what each planet means, what each major aspect means, the personality of each sign... But I wasn’t mentally developed enough to understand how all that plays into life... That’s how I got to meet dozens of renowned astrologers. I could name drop but I assume nobody cares... During my pre-teen years I was just attending those TAG classes twice a month, and when I was 12 I was in this once a week group where we practiced reading birth charts... in hindsight, practicing astrology just a couple or a few times a month wasn’t enough to get proficient at it... I didn’t have a thorough understanding of how astrology affects peoples’ lives, I could only give general interpretations.

When I was 13 I was on the local news for being a young astrologer, was a load of fun at the time, but now I realize I wasn’t truly ready to step into my path back then... When I was 16 I took these once a week classes about the archetypes from a Shamanic Astrology perspective, that really gave me a feeling of timelessness, how each character is necessary in the world... Also when I was 16 I went to the BLAST conference in Sedona (in 2008), I loved it! An astrologer I dearly looked up to named Kelly Lee Phipps filmed me and I so wish I had that video... He died of a brain tumor in 2014... tearing up now...

When I was 17 I was going to be on national TV on a series about paranormal topics, but while they were filming, I gave a bunch of dead air time... and that is when I gave up on astrology, it was humiliating. I wasn’t ready for that kind of honor, I regret it, I wasn’t knowledgeable enough, I wasn’t dedicated enough.

When I was 21 I started attending TAG again, but I was such a beginner back then... I couldn’t give readings worth crap, I was preoccupied with college and the weird scenarios I had going on lol. When I was 22 I went to my first NORWAC (2014) and loved it, later that year I went to my first ISAR (where I got to vend Time Passages Software).

During 2015 I was super focused on learning nutrition, politics, and environmentalism, I wasn’t yet super dedicated to astrology... I’d listen to astrology podcasts, attended norwac again, and participated in many discussions of how peoples’ planetary placements affected their life... that’s a great way to learn, see what aspects someone has in their chart, then observe how they play out in that person’s life!

2016 I went to norwac and isar again, and I started this tumblr at the end of august! 2016 and 2017 I have been more dedicated to reading a lot... books and online...

Important things you might have overlooked:

Even though we have birth chart calculators, it’s great to become familiar with an Ephimeris, you can find one at a metaphysical bookstore. Before astrology software existed, astrologers had to draw up charts from scratch using the ephemeris. You would have had to learn the math about how to calculate the rising sign and each house and each degree. I don’t know how to do all that, just know that at sunrise, the rising sign is the same as the sun. Each rising sign lasts about two hours, but Scorpio rising lasts longer (making it the most popular rising sign) and Aquarius rising sign happens for less time (making it the rarest rising sign).

Memorize how each planet moves in its orbit. Why does Pluto spend about 14 years in Capricorn, 12 years in Scorpio, 13 years in Sagittarius, but shorter times in other signs? Because Pluto has an elliptical orbit.

Sometimes Mars appears to be moving faster than Venus, even though Venus obviously has a shorter orbit around the sun, Mars is erratic and bumpy in it’s orbit, so sometimes it goes forward thru degrees faster than Venus. Isn’t that fascinating?! Of course Venus usually moves faster than Mars.

Memorize how long it takes each planet to orbit the sun. Neptune takes 165 years, so when you’re 81-83, you have a Neptune opposition because Neptune has completed 50% of its orbit. At age 40-41, Neptune has completed 25% of its orbit, which means it made a square.

Every three years Jupiter moves 90 degrees in its orbit. Every four years Jupiter moves 120 degrees. By memorizing how planets move, you can quickly guess someone’s Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto signs just by knowing the year they were born, and you can also estimate what transits they’re having now, or a year from now, without being dependent on a computer!

This is a common problem that aspiring astrologers have. Since our generation has it easier; we no longer have to draw up charts from scratch thanks to computers, it has caused people to become lazy in understanding the mechanics behind a chart. If you want to be an astrologer, if you want pro astrologers to take you seriously, you have to be mature about being able to figure out the aspects and aspect patterns for yourself. If you rely on computers to tell you that someone has Jupiter trine Mars or whatever, then you do not have a genuine understanding of astrology.

Memorize the ages that people experience planetary cycles, this way, you can easily start an impressive conversation with somebody by saying, “Oh you’re 42 years old, that means that transiting Uranus is opposite your natal Uranus, which means ___, and you’ve recently gone thru transiting Neptune being square your natal Neptune, which means __”

“Oh you’re 21 years old, that means that transiting Saturn is square your natal Saturn for the second time, and transiting Uranus is square your natal Uranus for the first time, this means __”

The major aspects, the houses, and the planets are just the fundamentals. Once you grasp those, then you can move up to specialty topics. You don’t have to learn the minor aspects if you don’t want to. I know famous pro astrologers who only use the major aspects, including Philip Sedgwick and Steven Forrest.

Another piece of advice, if you dabble in a dozen different methods (horary, medical astrology, financial astrology, mundane astrology, midpoints, astro*carto*graphy, electional astrology, symbolic degrees, teleological, cosmobiology, relationships, psychological, declinations, TNO’s, asteroids, harmonics, decans, uranian astrology, hellenistic, evolutionary/karmic, among a bunch of other branches...), you’re only going to be mediocre in all of them. Find your specialty and hone it! I dabble in a few of those, but right now my specialties are progressions, sabian symbols, and general predictions. You definitely don’t need to study all those items in that parenthesis, but at least know what each of those terms means. If you ever attend an astrologers’ conference, people will introduce themselves like, “I’m a Hellenistic astrologer” or “I use declinations to find contra-parallels”, if you don’t know what they’re talking about, you won’t be taken seriously in the community.

Yes I love how you said astrology is so beautifully expansive and easy to get lost in! I will never know everything there is to know! It would take a lifetime to learn all those things I listed.

I totally understand that learning all this stuff feels overwhelming when you’ve only been into astrology for a few years or less. Take your time learning and really absorbing the information before you start giving readings; learn from my mistakes, I had no business giving casual readings to my friends when I was 21-22, I was still a beginner.

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bibliosexxual · 7 years

Text

accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?” me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic” boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

“No. I wasn’t finished,” Stiles says. “We also ate lunch together last Monday. I forgot to bring my lunch, so I was just eating a bag of chips from the vending machine and he offered me half his tuna sandwich.”

It had been one of the nicest office lunch breaks he’d ever had, actually. Stiles was sitting on the low brick wall at the edge of the picnic area, and to his surprise, Derek sat down there, too, in his probably-thousand-dollar suit, while Stiles gaped at him a little for doing it.

Derek had then continued to sit there even after giving away the sandwich. It had been clear from the way he kept glancing at Stiles that he didn’t know what to say but he wanted to say something, so Stiles had prompted, “Got any weekend plans?” and Derek had said he didn’t have any, so Stiles had rambled for a while about his weekend plans, which involved going down to San Francisco for the weekend for a Bastille concert. Derek sat there and listened attentively the whole time, which, in Stiles’ experience, not many people would do. He also said he didn’t know who Bastille was. That was a little surprising, but then again, Stiles supposed Derek didn’t have a lot of time to absorb pop culture, what with running the foundation and owning a dog and all.

He’d obviously had a bit of time at that moment, though, so Stiles had pulled out his phone and played Derek some of their songs, and Derek had nodded his head subtly to the beat and smiled a little and instantly made Stiles’ crush on him a whole lot more intense.

“And that’s it,” he concludes now. “So do you think he’s into me at all?“

"How should I know? I’m not a mind reader.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Stiles mutters, thinking about all the times she’s guessed ahead of time what he was going to get her for her birthday and all the times she’s taken one look at him and known with an uncanny certainty that he’s just gotten laid or, more commonly, that he’s just spent the whole night playing video games and ignoring life’s responsibilities.

Now Lydia sighs. “Look, all I know is, office romances are tricky. Even if he is interested, he’d probably feel like he can’t ask you out because of the power dynamic. You’ll have to make the first move.”

“Yeah, right,” Stiles snorts.

Lydia raises her eyebrows like, I thought so. “Stiles…” she says, “as your friend who’s concerned for your happiness, I’m going to ask you something: Have you gone on a single date in the last month? The last six months?”

Stiles resists the urge to squirm under her knowing gaze. She could be a world-class interrogator if she ever wanted a career change. “Okay, but… I’ve been busy, okay? It has nothing to do with Der— Mr. Hale. As if. That’s ridiculous. Totally ludicrous.”

“I see,” Lydia says, unimpressed.

The next thing he knows, she’s installing a dating app on his phone and filling in a profile that’s a hundred times more charming and put-together than anything Stiles could’ve come up with on his own and finagling a promise out of him that he’ll at least give it a decent try.

Stiles gives his word, but privately he wonders if he can keep it.

It was actually Derek who inspired Stiles to apply to work at the Howls for Change Foundation to begin with. The local newspaper interviewed him a couple of years ago about the foundation, back when it was just starting up. Stiles had been just skimming, not planning to sit down and read the paper for half an hour, but that’s just what he ended up doing, drawn in by Derek’s interview—his enthusiasm and love for wolves, his eloquence in replying to the journalist’s questions, the accompanying picture of him… He was in jogging clothes, crouched on a trail out in the woods somewhere and hugging his German Shepherd while flashing the camera a rare, genuine smile so bright it made Stiles feel warm all over, and yeah, Stiles applied to this job about 75% because he loved wildlife conservation and about 25% because he wanted to see Derek Hale smile like that again, and possibly be the one to make him do it.

The feeling has only gotten stronger since then.

Derek likes to act like he’s just one of the employees, even though he’s not only the boss but also the organization’s founder. He has his own corner office, but he mainly just uses it for meeting with local policymakers and other bigwigs. The rest of the time, he has a cubicle where he plugs away on his laptop or just sits contemplatively, eating an apple or listening to music on an old CD player he keeps in the top drawer. He eats lunch outside in the picnic area with his employees, too, when it’s nice out. He brings bag lunches from home, which Stiles finds oddly charming.

Still, Stiles can see Derek is set apart. No matter how much he acts like he’s just an employee, no one ever forgets he’s the boss. When he walks into the break room, a hush always falls, and if they were talking about something gossipy or off-color before he walked in, they always hastily change the subject to something more workplace-appropriate and bland, like the weather or what’s for lunch, and Derek nods politely at them, gets his coffee, and leaves without a word. Stiles thinks he looks kind of lonely. He always comes off as hardworking and unpretentious, but he also doesn’t seem that fond of small talk or smiling, and it clearly makes a lot of people feel awkward around him.

For all the great work Derek is doing in the conservation world, he doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends.

Even so, the thought of Stiles asking him out and Derek actually saying yes… Well. It’s laughable, really.

So Lydia says, “Promise me you’ll at least try the app?” and Stiles says he will.

Two weeks and several mediocre first dates later, Stiles is sitting in a budget meeting at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning, poking at his phone under the table. He doesn’t make any attempt to stay on task first; whenever Greenberg starts talking in these meetings, like clockwork Stiles always gets this unbearable itch to look at his phone or pick at his nails or even just stare blankly out the window, anything but listen to him.

He deletes a dozen spam emails and replies to a couple punny texts from Scott from last night before he finally, reluctantly thumbs over to his unread messages on the dating app. By this point he’s not very optimistic. Turns out he was right to be, because someone has sent him an unsolicited dick pic.

Instinctively he sinks down a little lower in his seat. It turns out to be an unnecessary precaution, though. One glance around confirms it: the woman to his left is absorbed in doodling Power Rangers on her notepad, and the man to his right is gazing straight ahead into space, so zoned out he’s practically comatose.

Stiles looks back down at his phone.

It’s a nice dick pic, objectively. Very artistic, very tasteful. The guy, whose head is cropped out of the photo, is sprawled on his back on a turquoise sheet, soft sunlight falling on his naked torso, one long-fingered hand curled lazily around his erection. A+ for aesthetics.

Still, Stiles did not wake up this morning after only three hours of sleep (what can he say, he got distracted by Wikipedia again) just so he could see a complete stranger’s junk.

The sad thing is, this isn’t even the first time this has happened, or the third, or the fifth… Would it kill these guys to say hello first?

Stiles screenshots it, then pastes it into a new email to Lydia (he’s been keeping her apprised of his dating app adventures, at her insistence). He captions it with a grumpy, “guess how my morning is going.”

She’s the one who thought this app would be such a great idea in the first place. Maybe now, face-to-face with what Stiles has had to put up with on a daily basis for the past two weeks, she’ll finally admit the whole online dating thing was a bad idea and stop shooting him pitying looks whenever the subject of Derek Hale comes up.

After that, he blocks the dick-pic-sender and puts his phone away. Greenberg is still talking, still meticulously going over lots of hard-to-read charts, and Stiles’ gaze inevitably wanders to fall on Derek instead. Derek, who’s sitting at the head of the table, looking at something on his phone and not even trying to hide it.

Stiles supposes if you’re the founder of the company, you don’t have to pretend to be paying attention while Greenberg talks.

Derek’s phone buzzes in his hand; Stiles can just barely hear it. Derek taps at the screen while lifting his glass of water to his mouth, and then he must read something shocking because he simultaneously spits out his water all over his notes and starts coughing furiously, doubling over like he’s dying, his phone clattering to the table.

Greenberg momentarily stops his monotone speech, hovering like he’s not sure what to do, while pretty much everyone around the table freezes up except for the vice president, Boyd, who’s sitting next to him and never seems even remotely fazed by anything. He pounds Derek heartily on the back a couple times.

It seems to help. After a long half minute, the coughing fit passes. Derek looks up, red-faced, and rasps, “I’m okay.”

Hesitantly, Greenberg starts talking again. Derek straightens his tie and puts his phone away, and Stiles’ fellow employees go back to slumping in their seats with blank, I’m-bored-out-of-my-mind expressions on their faces, and that’s that.

Stiles can’t help wondering what it was Derek saw that got such a reaction out of him. Whatever it was, it’s guaranteed to be more interesting than this meeting.

Ah, well. Stiles will probably never know.

Or so he thinks until about half an hour later, when his phone buzzes with a new email from Derek—the only email he’s ever gotten from Derek, not counting the company-wide newsletters and memos.

It’s a good thing Stiles finishes pouring his coffee before taking a look at it, because otherwise he probably would have scalded the skin of his hand off and spilled coffee all over his shoes and the break room floor in the process.

The subject line reads, “re: guess how my morning is going.”

Stiles freezes.

Blinks.

Closes out of his email app and opens it again.

The email is still there. It’s still titled "re: guess how my morning is going.” Stiles didn’t misread it.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t breathe for a solid five minutes while he lets the mingled surges of horror and adrenaline wash over him. It’s like one of those nightmares he used to have in high school where he’d stand up in class to give a presentation, only to look down and realize he was inexplicably buck-ass naked and everyone was laughing at him.

Finally he sucks in enough air to gasp, "Oh god. I’m dead. I’m so dead.” There’s no one else in the break room, but he still says it. It seems like the kind of momentous occasion that needs stating out loud to the universe.

Then he chugs his entire mug of coffee and speed-walks as casually as possible down the hall. A few people glance at him curiously from their cubicles, probably because he’s blushing so hard he looks like a tomato on the verge of a nervous breakdown, or possibly because no one runs in this office, anywhere, for any reason. Dignity is the name of the game. Stiles has none.

Stiles ignores them all in favor of diving into Lydia’s office and slamming the door shut behind him. He doesn’t care what work she might be doing; this is more important. This is a crisis.

She must get some sense of that from the look on his face, or maybe from the way he’s slumped back against the door and panting, because she doesn’t snap at him or even look that annoyed.

Stiles waves his phone at her and tries, in a rambling and adrenaline-fueled outburst, to explain. He’s not sure how much of it is actually anything bordering on English, but he thinks he ultimately conveys the important bits.

While he talks, Lydia rests her elbows on her desk, steepling her fingers, and looks intrigued. “So,” she says when he finally runs out of breath, “what did Derek actually say?”

“I don’t know!” Stiles says, only a little hysterically.

“You didn’t read the email?“

Stiles shakes his head, sheepish. She’s undoubtedly judging him so hard right now, and he knows, okay. He knows.

Lydia lets out one of her trademark "why am I surrounded by incompetence” sighs and holds out her hand for his phone. Stiles meekly hands it over.

Lydia unlocks it without asking him for the passcode, which suggests either that Stiles needs to make his passwords stronger or that they spend entirely too much time together. Then she reads, and Stiles chews on his thumbnail and practices the breathing exercises his therapist taught him.

Lydia hands his phone back after only half a minute, her expression softening to something almost sympathetic. That’s when Stiles truly comprehends how truly, apocalyptically bad this is. Lydia never looks sympathetic.

“Well?” Stiles croaks.

“It just says he’d like you to come see him in his office as soon as you get a chance.”

Stiles has never heard anything so ominous.

“You shouldn’t keep him waiting,” she says gently. “Go get it over with, and while you’re doing that, I’ll write you a glowing recommendation letter.”

A recommendation letter. To take with him when he gets fired. Oh god.

When Stiles edges into Derek’s office, Derek is standing over by the window. He looks stunning as usual, tailored suit perfectly accenting the powerful lines of his body, but his ears are kind of pink. He’s got out a bottle of wine and two glasses on a little trolley table; he must have an important meeting with a big client later today. Stiles will probably never find out about it, though, seeing as he’s about to get fired and all.

“Stiles,” Derek nods.

Stiles would reply, but he’s afraid nothing will come out but an unmanly squeak, so instead he just focuses on perching on the edge of the nearest chair. He’s never actually been in Derek’s office before. It’s very Derek; it reminds him of the woods, lots of earth tones and accents of green. If not for the circumstances, Stiles would probably find it calming. As it is, he’s not sure he would find anything calming right now, except maybe a Xanax.

“Do you know why I called you in here?“ Derek asks.

Oh god, does he have to say it out loud? It’s not like they don’t both know already. Stiles opens his mouth, and no words come out. His mind is one long internal scream. All he can do is clutch the arms of his chair and watch as Derek uncorks the wine and starts pouring it into the first glass with intimidating casualness. He looks like he’s not mad at all. It’s terrifying.

Finally Stiles manages to force the words out. “Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.”

Derek stops pouring wine into the second glass. “Accidentally?”

“Yes!” Stiles says, latching onto that word like a lifeline. Is it even legal to fire someone for an accident? Well. Probably yes, if it results in somebody’s arm getting lopped off or something, but a dick pic isn’t quite on that level. Stiles hopes so, anyway. “And it wasn’t even my dick!”

Derek puts down the bottle of wine completely. “So… your boyfriend’s…?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t have one.”

“So you’re saying you sent me porn.”

Stiles groans and drops his head to his hands. He can’t look at Derek right now; he’s already reached maximum mortification levels. “No, I, um, so the thing is, I have Lydia Martin down in my email contacts as ‘Divine Goddess,’ which alphabetically puts her next to you, so I accidentally emailed the dick pic to you when I meant to email it to her, and before you say anything, I know I’m not supposed to send explicit materials over the company email and I swear it won’t happen again.” Assuming Stiles ever gets another chance to use his company email, that is, but he’s not going to be the one to point that out.

There’s a long silence, and Stiles risks a peek up through his fingers. Derek is frowning at him, but not like he’s angry. More like he’s confused. “Isn’t Lydia married? To a woman?”

That makes Stiles forget for a moment about being embarrassed. He sits up straight, flailing his hands in a chopping motion. “Whoa, no, it’s definitely not like that. It’s not a flirting thing. We’re just friends, and you’re right, she and Allison are very happily married and I’d never do anything to get between that. Ever. It’s just, she set me up for an online dating profile recently and I kind of hate it because I keep getting dick pics, so that pic you saw was like, like a status update. Like, 'Look how terribly this is going, I hate all of these dudes sending me dick pics because none of them are you'—”

Shit. He bites his tongue so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t taste blood, because nope, what the fuck, that was not supposed to be a part of this conversation, and now Derek’s grip on the neck of the wine bottle has gone white-knuckled and he’s just staring at Stiles, all deer-in-the-headlights.

Not for the first time in his life, or even the hundredth, Stiles wishes he had the power to rewind the last ten or so seconds of what just happened and start over. Unfortunately, no such luck.

“Just to clarify, I didn’t mean to imply that I want you to send me a pic of your dick,” Stiles blurts. “I just meant in a, um, a purely romantic sense, no one on that app is as good as… yeah.” Stiles trails off because Derek’s eyes are continuing to widen, and that’s probably not good. “Oh god, I’m making this worse. I shouldn’t be allowed to talk.”

Derek still doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s an interrogation tactic or maybe (probably) he’s just in shock.

Either way, Stiles feels compelled to break the silence. “Are you going to fire me?” he asks tentatively, after what feels like the longest and most awkward minute of his life to date.

Derek finally blinks and relaxes his death-grip on the wine bottle. “I’d be crazy to fire you. You’re one of my best employees.”

“Except for the whole dick pic thing,” Stiles points out, risking a smile, and Derek smiles back. Stiles feels a little of the oh-god-I’m-about-to-get-fired tension leave him, and in its place the usual oh-god-I’m-in-the-presence-of-Derek-Hale tension starts creeping back in. That’s a lot more familiar, and a lot more exciting.

“Oh, I don’t know, I didn’t…” Derek starts, looking away out the window and then nervously meeting Stiles’ eyes. “I didn’t mind the dick pic thing so much. Not when it was from you.”

It’s Stiles’ turn to stare in shock.

Derek spins jerkily on his heel and picks up one of the wine glasses and starts chugging it down, and okay. Maybe Stiles isn’t the only one who’s pretty nervous right now. That thought makes Stiles a whole lot less nervous, and he stands up and moves around the desk while it lasts. Derek turns his head a little. Stiles reaches up and takes the glass away and sets it down on the table.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— It’s not professional—” Derek starts.

“I would send you a picture of my dick if you asked,” Stiles blurts, and it feels like one of the bravest and most romantic things he’s ever said.

“I would send you one, too,” Derek says, blushing furiously.

That basically shreds the last bit of Stiles’ self-control. He grabs Derek’s fancy silk tie and tugs, and, before he can second-guess it, kisses Derek Hale the way he deserves to be kissed, thoroughly and so enthusiastically that Derek ends up sinking back to lean against his desk like his knees just won’t hold him up anymore.

“So, just to clarify,” Stiles pants, resting a hand on Derek’s chest and thrilling that he can do that now, “I’m definitely not fired.”

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls him back in.

(end)

#my fic #sterek fanfiction #i'm gonna tag this #marauders-mess #since i kinda feel like they prompted me for this one with their message from a few days ago

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anarchistbanjo · 6 years

Text

The Strangling Hand Ch 1 Pg 25-32

The Strangling Hand by Karl Hans Strobl translated by Joe E. Bandel Copyright Joe E. Bandel The Strangling Hand Ch 1 pg 25-32

He appeared entirely absorbed in himself, unapproachable, unmoving like the statue of a god, behind whose stone face wild lechery lurked and whose body was completely filled with a tense power. Out of the rich treasures portrayed in the works of the poet which she had inherited, was an image that seemed to attach itself to this man, this emissary. It was the image of the Asian despot, ruler over millions of slaves as he crowded them closely together in order to transport them.

The curtain moved a little, the stranger glanced in her direction and without embarrassment gave up his comfortable posture and stood up.

“I was not announced, gracious Frau, my name is Rudolph Hainx.”

Frau Emma forced herself to nod, and then with a smile in which the corners of his mouth only lifted a little, he continued:

“I am not a journalist. I must say that first, and when I found a gentleman from the press here I immediately took the opportunity to get rid of him so he would not bother you any more. For that service I must ask you to hear me out.”

“I am prepared to listen to you.”

In the most privileged quarter of our city, there, right where the countryside presses against the city, stands a large garden and villa, one filled with every luxury that there is. The steps are made of Paris marble, and rambling Goldilocks climb upon the walls. The furniture is designed by Riemer-Schmidt and delivered from workshops in the United States. The glasses in the credenza are from Tiffany’s in New York.

In a small room, whose window shimmers with all the colors of the rainbow, you will find a chest, whose drawers protect jewelry created by Lalique. A front room, which is like an atrium, a quadrangle cut from the heavens, is cooled in the summer by one of Hermann Obrist’s elaborate fountains. Now, I know that you love paintings, so I must not forget to say that scattered through separate chambers are paintings by Bocklin, Thoma, Manet and Leibl. The stairs and front hall are filled with acrylics, and one room is decorated with original Hokusai paintings which you love so much. And for evening twilight, to inspire your dreams, is a cabinet with portraits and etchings of genuine Rembrandts.

All of the great arts are allowed to stream through this princely home. You will find a music room and a rich library with rare printings and incunables. There is an ancient Roman bath and a horse stable with English and Arabian race horses. You would not exhaust the riches of this house in an entire year. There are other collections as well that I can’t forget to mention, a weapon collection in one hall and a well organized collection of postage stamps in another.

When you go through a flight of chambers, it is like wandering through the styles and cultures of all times, from ancient Assyrian to the Epoch of Biedermeier, and I will add that the furniture and appliances in this house are not copies, but original working pieces. The gardens around the house consist of individual partitions, in which you will be enchanted by gardening arts of the past. You will find replicas of the hanging gardens of Semiramis and the intricately interlaced and precious Bosketts of Trianon. A crowd of servants will fulfill your every wish.”

“I have listened to you; why are you telling me all of this?”

“On an island in the Adriatic ocean, which has never known winter, is another house which contains all the wonders and hot freedom of paradise, built in the Grecian style. From the columned entrance you can see the ocean, which is more beautiful there than anywhere else, more moody, more moving, with many sleepy colors that awaken to play in the morning and evening. A balcony, high above the rustling tree tops, gives a free view in all directions, and the most difficult and urgent longings will find wings and become more easy and joy filled there. Nothing prevents you from living there in luxurious solitude or reveling with good friends in a Hellenistic kingdom. There in view of the ocean and the heavens you can once more find undespairing joy and build a new radiant temple over the ruins of the past. A boat floats in a little harbor, and reddish purple sails shimmer through the tips of the pines. This boat is similar to the grandness of the ship Agrippa, and like it contains rare luxuries collected together in the smallest spaces.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I come to offer you this house in the city and the one on the island.”

Frau Emma reeled under the thought, in which she appeared to fall to ruin, torn by blind and senseless forces from the solid stronghold of her newly made plans. What kind of image was this? How could this confusion of colors and brilliance be her future? Really, the description of this magnificence was dangerous. And this offer was not a joke, she could see the seriousness in the unmoving mask of this man, as he now pulled a long paper out of his breast pocket and laid it out on the writing desk.

“It goes without saying, that I would not make this offer without being prepared to also offer you the money needed for all possible trivialities that would allow you to live such a life without a care. Just name an amount, which you think will suffice, and don’t be shy. My offer has only one limit down below, but none above. Speak your fantasy, to arrange a fairy tale of gold. I am authorized to make this check out for any sum which you name.”

“You offer me an immense treasure. I must admit that this has me all confused. What do you want of me? You speak of a contract. What is this contract? Look around you , and you will see my past. What do I have to offer that is worth such a future? Is your offer a gift? Whose gift? And what ... My God!...”

“You can call my offer a gift. What is needed is so simple, that there shouldn’t be any problem. Many others would not even stop to consider it, if they were offered millions upon millions. Before I tell you what is needed, I will give you something else to think about. Do the memorials of our past depend upon objects, real things, or rather much more upon tender and incontrovertible memories of real life experiences that can’t be erased?

If Caesar had lost his fame as a warrior, would his glorious past be extinguished; if the manuscript of his memoirs over the Gaullish war had been destroyed in fire; if a thief had stolen the suit of armor, which the commander had worn in the battle against Vercingetorix? Would Tamerlane’s career have been altered, would he have not won as many victories, if the skulls of his demoralized enemies had been allowed to fall from the spear tips, decay and turn to dust?”

“Be silent, be silent, I sense...”

“You have promised to hear me out. I know from the newspapers, that your husband’s will contained a strange order concerning his head. I also know that Eleagabal Kuperus has the capability of fulfilling this wish of the dead. My offer stands therein, to offer you all of these things, which I have previously made an effort to describe to you, in exchange for that head.”

The trembling fingers of Emma played around the heavy bronze sphinx, which lay upon the writing desk. But the eyes of Rudolph Hainx suddenly lit up like flaming stars and forced her glance back down. She didn’t dare look him in the eyes anymore and allowed him to sit back down at the writing desk, pick up the quill and prepare to write. The quill, with which a poet had once written a difficult sonnet, now stood at a steep angle in the hand of this stranger.

Emma had never seen such a hand. It was a cold, scrawny hand, whose sinews suddenly sprang out from the wrist as if they could not wait to elongate into fingers and transmit their command. The fingers were crooked and pointed, and on the wrist, clusters of hair grew in rocky fissures of the wrinkled skin down to the yellow knuckles. It was a gentleman’s hand, that was soft and delicate, with beautiful rounded curves , yet without the gentle swelling of fat that would hinder its grip. It was the hand of a master that lay upon the paper, which stretched tautly, prepared to write down an endless series of numbers. Evil eyes burned like perishing stars over this decisive moment.

“You say that you are making this proposal for someone else. Won’t you tell me who this contract belongs to?” “I see that it is important for you to know this. You should know that my client has the power to fulfil his promise, but also, that it stands in his power to make being disobedient to his wishes very taxing. He has commanded me to reveal his name in only the most exceptional case. I show you the honor of realizing that your reluctance is so heavy that this exceptional case is needed.”

“– Herr Bezug has sent me to you.”

At that the Frau sprang up to the messenger, tore the quill from out of his hand and threw it to the floor with such violence that it remained stuck upright in a black splotch.

“Get out!” She screamed, “Get out!”

And now she dared look him in the eyes; now he had no more power over her. Rudolph Hainx took his dusty gray gloves from the chair and picked up his hat.

“You will regret this!”

Frau Emma looked around, as if searching for a weapon to use against him. Then she ran to the door of the courtyard and leaned against the iron railing that sagged beneath her weight. She appeared prepared to call the entire house for help against the messenger, to set all the neighbors against him. Rudolph Hainx stepped past without her seeing, an envoy whose deal had been broken, and went forth in order to declare a war. His smooth, immaculate elegance framed the dirty walls of the stairs for a moment as he climbed down, only to once more come into view before crossing the courtyard down below and disappearing out the wide mouth of the main house door.

I am currently translating this book a few pages at a time. I will be posting them as I translate them. If you enjoy this story and type of literature please support me and become a patron. Translation is hard work and takes a lot of time. Consider donating $1 a month to help out. This book is over 500 pages long! You can donate at my website: http://thelastrosicrucian.is/wp/ or my Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/anarchistbanjo Comments are welcome!

#adventure #fiction #translation #literature

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