#and. god. i love this silly program :3 it's so simple and fun and i can go 'fuck it we ball' on it like no tomorrow
Note
1 for Asuka :3
What memory would your OC rather just forget?
...maybe having a molotov cocktail as your ranged weapon isn't the best idea after all.
the splash damage could really hurt someone.
#persona 5#p5 spoilers#goro akechi#persona oc#my ocs#asuka sonozaki#my art#ask#sirenspells#this has several pieces i'm giving it the art tag instead of the doodle tag#okok um HI HI EVERYONE here's your first asuka spoiler :) the engine room scene :) :)#at least the engine room scene when she's involved#i used to tease this a LOT when i first talked about asuka (which is like two years ago now whaaaat????)#so. i might as well reveal it :3#also please ignore how i drew the bottle i didn't look up any refs#also this was my first go with squigglypaint!!!! i saw another artist mess w/ it and went 'OOH that looks fun imma have a go'#and. god. i love this silly program :3 it's so simple and fun and i can go 'fuck it we ball' on it like no tomorrow
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ten Books To Know Me
Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like.
Thanks for the tag @littledreamling and @mathomhouse-e!!
I'm taking non-ancient literally, you will be getting literature from the 19th century lmao. In no particular order:
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne
This book was my hook into the sci-fi genre! It's such a fun adventure to live in the world underwater in the Nautilus! I still have the annotated version my parents got me when I was around 9 or 10 with a very beat-up, well-loved dust jacket.
2. Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Vonnegut's style is so influential. I adore the non-linearity of the story, how Billy gets "unstuck in time" and we see snippets of his past and his future. Of course the anti-war message is near and dear to my heart and the perspective of people who have been to war is so critical to hear. Vonnegut also has a special place in my heart as someone who taught the Iowa Writers' Workshop because that program is something my home state produces that I can be very proud of.
3. Silent Spring by Rachel Carson
C'mon, I'm an ecologist! I have a degree in environmental science! This is an obvious choice for someone who cares about the environment, as it demonstrated the dangers of DDT to the public. Carson is a personal hero of mine as she essentially kickstarted the environmental movement and became one of the best science communicators in the United States. Her writing is simple, clear, and easy to understand even if you have no background in biology and chemistry. An amazing way to make people see what we are doing to our Earth.
4. Welcome to Subbirdia by John Marzluff
Woohoo! First bird book on the list! I read this in my first year seminar in college and it opened my eyes to how cool urban ecology is. I learned so much about how inhospitable suburbia can be for wildlife and what we can do to invite them back to where we live, so we can actually live beside native plants, animals, and other organisms. It's a great entry-level book about birds, the biodiversity crisis, and urban ecology.
5. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
I love the weird, the silly, and the bizarre. Hitchhiker's Guide has had such an impact on my sense of humor and outlook on life. I'm gonna use this space to recommend the entire trilogy in five parts to you.
6. American Gods by Neil Gaiman
Are we shocked that a Neil book landed on here? I read this in 2021 when I was working just outside the Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota. It actually made me a friend who introduced me to Good Omens and then Discworld. I miss him dearly. Anyways, what a fantastic world that I really felt quite at home in as a Midwesterner. Sam Black Crow is one of my favorite characters of all time.
7. Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
One of my earliest beloved poets. Whitman does so much with rhythm and sound in his poems; it's no surprise he's recognized as one of the American greats. I love his use of natural imagery and the way he explores the connections between people. And the powerful homoeroticism.
8. What Do We Know by Mary Oliver
Another poet, and a tumblr favorite at that! Oliver's poetry really speaks to my soul as someone who takes in the wonders all around us, big and small. Her prose poems are truly skilled, and if you read any of them I really adore At Blackwater Pond to get a taste.
9. Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold
I am so, so soft-hearted for the ecology of the Midwest and for the people who take the time to look and listen and learn from all the living beings that surround us. I've shared a quote from this book before but it really gets to the crux of what is so beautiful about the essays and natural history within:
"It is fortunate, perhaps, that no matter how intently one studies the hundred little dramas of the woods and meadows, one can never learn all of the salient facts about any one of them."
10. The Sibley Guide to Birds, 2nd Edition by David Allen Sibley
Last but not least, my favorite bird guide! This thing has been everywhere with me. I'm 95% sure that some of the pages have my blood on them. It's certainly got dirt all over it. This book is my bible. I take it wherever I go when I lead birding trips and when I'm somewhere that has unfamiliar birds. It is the best field guide for North American birds in my opinion.
Not sure who hasn't done this yet! Obviously no pressure to do it <3
@altair214 @lenreli @galacticstingray @pintobordeaux
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Golden Bridge | four
When your soulmate rejects you and you feel like your worlds ending, you meet someone who puts your pieces back together.
Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut - soulmate!au
Pairing: minhoxfem!reader, changbinxfem!reader
Word count: 3.1k
mlist, one, two, three, four, five
You looked at Minho and watched him carefully. For several moments, you didn't speak you just thought of what you could say.
Okay, so maybe you were stupid enough to let someone in.
But there were a couple of factors.
You hadn't had a friend in a long time, and you weren't sure what exactly friends did anymore. Why did it feel so foreign to be asked to do something as simple as play instruments together? Why did it remind you so much of Changbin? You didn’t have all the answers, but you were interested in what Minho had to offer. You wondered what his soulmate would think but you tried to push that aside because there were no ulterior motives there. Minho had a soulmate and while you didn’t, and you weren't looking for somebody to replace him you knew in the world full of soul mates that there were going to be many people that wouldn’t want you. So, you knew you would spend your life alone, and you weren't worried about thinking of Minho or having unreciprocated feelings or worse, ruining things for him and his soulmate. You just weren't that person. You would be better than that. Just like you let Changbin go and you let him have his soulmate, you weren't going to meddle with any other relationships.
That being said, you wouldn’t let soulmates ruin any other friendships you made though. Meaning, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for anyone else. As if you could fall for anyone else since you were rejected by the one you loved anyway.
Maybe Minho could fill the void that was left after Changbin. You wondered if you could even find a way to be friends with somebody that wasn't Changbin but it was fun the little bit that you knew him and the way he recommended songs to you was as if you guys were already some sort of friends - even if you didn't like the idea of friendship after all you've been through.
Even if the idea of friendship made you ill.
You were terrified of letting someone in.
Although maybe a friend was just what you needed to help you cope with the pain you were suffering from. Maybe a little jam session with a fellow musician wouldn't kill you. All the thoughts were running through your head as you looked at Minho. His eyes were nervous as they were searching yours for some answers.
When finally, you replied with a, “Yes, I think we could,” Minho’s nervous face lit up, his eyes started to dance, and his smile blossomed.
Lyn looked at the two of you with a glint in her eye, “Stop flirting and get to work, Minho.”
You were taken aback. ‘he has a soul mate’ you wanted to say but you kept your mouth shut and just let the smile slip on your face. It wasn't up to you to stick up for somebody else and it was obvious he had a soulmate, especially to Lyn who worked with him every day. Minho also didn't seem to stand up for himself, he just let it happen, his cheeks flushing bright red.
“Okau, cool, cool,” he said, “Could I like have your number?”
You paused for several moments again, thoughts invading your mind. Friends did this right? Friends asked for each other's numbers?
This is normal, this is totally normal so why the hell was your heart beating out of your chest?
Again, though you smiled and proceeded to give Minho your number. Stopping making your drink, he programmed it in his phone. His long fingers dancing over the numbers as he typed in your number. With a smile, he resumed making your drink. You couldn’t help but watch him, eyes intently scattering to follow after every movement. Watching the way his arms flexed and the way you could see his tattoos while he did so.
Lyn caught your gaze and when you felt her staring at you, you looked away from Minho and at the floor. She just caught you totally checking Minho out.
Oh my god. Were you checking him out?
No, you couldn’t have been. You were simply admiring your friend. Yes, admiring. That was it.
Handing you the drink when he was done making it, he said “I'll text you later,”
You waved to him and Lyn, bidding your farewells before walking out of the coffeeshop and trying to calm your thumping heart. Why did it feel like that? What were you feeling? Is this what it felt like to make friends? The only emotion you’d known lately was heart break.
You went to work that day and relatively you were in a good mood. It seemed all the sadness that had racked you the night before had somehow washed away, even if it was only for a little bit. Some of the pain was gone just from talking to Minho and some of the hurt you felt vanished even just for a moment. Astoundingly, you felt happy that you are making a friend and gods, it was good to make a friend. A friend other than Gail your boss. When you went to work smiling Gail was taken aback. She cornered you in the stockroom, “What are you so smiley about?” she asked.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I think I made a friend,” you said honestly.
Her face lit up and you could tell she was happy because you weren't known for making friends easily. Which was why Changbin was all you had over all your years. You were just too awkward with people. You were the weird violin player who couldn't form her words into coherent sentences. The only way you could communicate was with music and there weren’t many people who cared to do so with you. So you were thankful that that's what you're in Minho’s relationship would be. At least then you could communicate with him, you could show him how you felt even if you couldn't talk about it and that meant more to you than words. Music always had a way of going beyond speaking, showing how you truly felt even if you couldn’t express it. That's how you and Changbin mostly communicated.
Music brought the two of you together even if he wasn’t a classical music player but often played electric guitar. Although for you, he always went acoustic and somehow, he played beautifully alongside with you as if you two worlds intertwined so perfectly that nothing could break your bond. Well, till he broke your bond. Not even music could keep you together.
You never played with a cello player before apart from orchestra and quartets. It was never just a duet between violin and cello, so you were enticed to look through the music you had and find a duet for you two. Of course, you need something sad and MInho seemed to like sad music as well, but for some reason today the happy music wasn't looking so bad today. The happy music wasn't making you so angry to look at but even if your fingers drifted over the sheets you still couldn't bother yourself to pick them up. It was too soon though and you were too hurt to be able to play the notes to something happy.
After picking out a couple of different music pieces, you smiled and waited for Minho to text you. Your shift seemed to drone on and on, as you waited to see the familiar name pop up on your phone. You hadn’t gotten his number so you couldn't text first although you didn't know if you would even if you could. You just waited patiently or rather impatiently and when he finally did text you, it was near the end of your shift and your heart sped with excitement when you saw his text.
[3:56p] Hey, it’s Minho!
You took a couple pictures of the music you chose and send it to him.
[4:00p] I hope this suits you
He was quick to respond.
[4:01p] It looks perfect. I have a couple pieces as well. When are you free?
Between school, working at the book shop during the week, and working at the bar on the weekends, it was hard to find time and you hope since he worked late at night that he would be available past midnight. Late nights seemed to be the only time you could play.
[4:06p] I work a lot. are you free sometime during the night?
He was quick to respond again. [4:07p] I work till 3:00 AM tomorrow would 4:00 AM be good for you?
You smiled goofily to yourself. [4:09p] that would be perfect, my place or yours?
[4:11p] I can't really play at night, so could we do your place? I still live with my parents
You nodded and then laughed before responding [4:14p] of course my neighbors are used to it at this point
[4:15p] 😌Send your address and I'll be there tomorrow
You did gladly and that, was the first night you slept well.
🎻
Your jaw nearly dropped when you opened your door to Minho standing outside of it, looking entirely different in sweats, a muscle tee and hair slightly messy. His tattoos were on full display and you marveled over them for several moments before he cleared his throat.
“Hey,” you drew out.
He gave you a silly smile, “Sorry I look so disheveled. It was a long day at the shop.” His large cello was strapped in a case on his back as he shifted his weight back and forth.
“Oh,” you replied tearing your gaze away, “come in.”
You let him follow you in and quickly apologized for any mess, “I’m not really home often,” you grinned.
He just shrugged, “I don’t mind. I know your schedule is probably packed. Which speaking of, thank you for making time for me.”
You waved him off and retrieved Oliver from where he was on your couch, “No problem. Today I don’t have to work till 6pm so I would have had a ton of free time on my hands any way. Thanks for coming.”
Making your way over to an empty space in your living room, you placed down two music stands, thankful to still have Changbin’s. You had moved two dinning chairs to sit in front of them and waited for Minho to get situated. He did so as you slid a couple of music sheets onto both stands.
Minho grabbed a few sheets from the front pouch of his cello case, uncrumpling the edges as he did, “Sorry, cello cases aren’t the best for storing music,” he said with an awkward smile. He handed the music to you and you looked it over, before deciding it was worthy enough to play and sitting it on your stands as well. “Where should we begin?” he asked as you sat down with Oliver.
You hummed, looking through the music before deciding on Jupiter Chorale, from the Planets, a song Minho had brought along with him. “I don’t have a metronome or anything.”
He shook his head, “I don’t think we’ll need one.”
And was he right.
When you began playing together, it was as if everything aligned. He kept his eyes on you while you played, knowing his cues when to come in and when the right time to use vibrato was.
The song was nice, slow, and quite depressing but playing it with Minho, it was beautiful. You didn’t feel as sad as you normally did.
When the piece was over, Minho’s eyes were prodding you, “You’re really good,” he remarked.
You flushed, “Minho, that was such a simple song.”
He shook his head, “Those are the hardest to play, don’t you know?”
You cocked your head, “What do you mean?”
“Simple songs are the hardest because it’s so easy to mess up. If you mess up a busy song, someone is likely not to even notice. But a piece this simple, you have to be good to play it well.”
“You’re not so bad either then,” you added, smiling at him before flipping through the sheets and changing the music.
He watched you choose a piece and gasped when you did, “O Waly Waly is one of my favorites. Another simple piece that is so easy to mess up.”
You pointed at him, “Now, I’m going to mess up.”
He rolled his eyes, “I highly doubt it. You radiate such big first violin energy. I can feel it pressing against me and it hurts, by the way.”
“Why are cello players so snippy?”
Pointing his bow at you, he shook it, “Violin players are snobby, okay? We have to be snippy.”
Narrowing your eyes, you glared at him, “I am not snobby.”
“You chose O Waly Waly, you’re totally a snob.”
“That’s mean, Minho.”
He put a hand up in defense, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
Flushing, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Can we move on to O Waly Waly now?” What did he mean he liked it? Was he flirting with you? Oh god. Your heart sunk into your stomach. What if he was? He had a soulmate and he was flirting with you? Maybe you were reading into it too much. Yes, that had to be it. It was just friendly banter. Changbin used to banter with you like that.
The thought calmed you down as the two of you began the next song.
Like before, he was in perfect step with you.
He didn’t miss a single note and was right in tune with you and it made things feel so right. Minho might just pan out to be a good friend. Not even Changbin was able to stay this in tune with you - and that said a lot because Changbin and you were nearly perfect musical partners.
Now, maybe you had found a new musical partner.
“Again,” he said when you finished, “You play beautifully, Y/N,” he complimented.
Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, “You’re really good too, Minho.”
“How long have you played?”
“Since I was about eight,” you replied. “My mom forced it on me and for a long time, I actually hated it,” you laughed, feeling slightly sad when remembering the times you’d fight with your mom over playing.
He gave you a look of sympathy, “I was forced to play too but it started with piano when I was ten. Ultimately I hated it and decided to try cello. I liked how big and powerful it was. Turned out that’s where my passion was. I won a lot of contests in school. I would have never done so with piano. My fingers aren’t meant to move that way.”
You eagerly nodded, “My fingers aren’t really built to use a bow, and I still struggle with my form,” you said showing him your awkward bow hold. “But er, my ex worked on it really hard with me and was persistent. He really made a difference.”
“Was he a musician?”
You licked your lips, you weren’t really used to talking about Changbin but something about Minho, made it easier. “He was. Guitar though. Looking back, I guess we never meshed that well. We were never quite in tune.”
“I understand,” he said simply and you noticed his eyes had flooded back to their natural color, almost making you gasp because god, was he beautiful and his natural eyes made him that much more pretty. You stared at him for several moments, taking him in before he caught you off guard and said, “Weird to see my eyes normal, isn’t it?”
So he caught you staring. Way to go Y/N. “Yes.”
“I love their natural color, I think eyes look the prettiest when they’re in their natural state. You can see more of a person that way. I like the way your eyes always are, I feel like I see so much of you even though you aren’t willing to show me much.”
You grimaced, “I haven’t had the best few months. I’m a little standoffish, I’ll be honest. It’s hard to let anyone in.”
“Well,” Minho clapped his hands together, “Thank you for what you have let me in on. Could we be music buddies? I don’t have anyone else to play with and playing with you is so... refreshing.”
He was right. You felt so refreshed playing with him and listening to the way his cello soared. Watching him out of the corner of your eyes was like watching a true artist at work and it was beautiful. You agreed with him that maybe this could be something worthwhile. “Music buddies sounds good. I just am not sure I know how to have friends... I was always the awkward violin player.”
“Well now you’re the beautiful violin player.”
You shied away, “You’re too flattering, Minho.”
He noticed your look of discomfort and was quick to apologize, “I’m sorry. I was always known as the blunt cello player.”
“Shall we play some more?”
“Do you have more time?”
You looked at your phone, and nodded, it’s not like you needed sleep anyway. “Sure.”
He paused for a moment and then looked towards your kitchen, “Could I make you some coffee?”
“Please but good luck with it, I fear I made it angry,” you joked.
He laughed and it was the most beautiful melodic sound you swore you ever heard. “I’ll sweet talk it the way I do at work.”
You raised a brow, “You talk to the machines at work?”
He sat his bow down, scoffing as he laid his cello on the floor, “Don’t act like you’ve never talked to Oliver.”
Putting your hands in the air, you laughed back, “Okay, you got me there.”
And that’s how Minho made you the best cup of coffee you’d ever had from your coffee maker and stayed over playing till seven in the morning.
When he left, even with the caffeine still flowing through your veins, once your head hit the sheets, you fell asleep and when you awoke, for the first time in months, the bags under your eyes were barley visible.
Music really had a way of healing and you hadn’t realized how desperately you had needed a partner to play with until that night.
You guessed that Minho had came into your life at the right time and even if he was a stranger, now he was becoming a friend.
It scared you and excited you at the same time.
🎻
#skz fanfic#skz angst#skz fluff#skz series#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#stray kids series#stray kids fanfic#Lee know fanfic#Lee know series#Lee know fluff#Lee know angst#Lee Minho series#Lee Minho fanfic#Lee Minho fluff#Lee Minho angst#Minho fanfic#Minho fluff#Minho angst#reader x Lee know
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Personality / Brief history / important things about MC / Reader for my fanfics or when I make requests.
Okay, I decided to do this more for myself when I make a request to someone, but this is also useful to let you know a little more about the MC / "reader" of my fanfics.
The MC is a cis-woman of almost 1.60cm in height, (age may vary) but generally the age will be between 20 and 23. She is heterosexual/straight (I don't know if there is a difference between the two things, but I don't understand why I would have two words for the same thing) and usually in fanfics she has never had a boyfriend before the character she will be together with (be it Jake (Duskwood), Jason (Todd), Spencer (Reid) or any other character).
She was born in Brazil and lived a large part of her life there, and depending on what story she is in, she makes an interchange trip abroad because of college, and because of that she lives far from her family and lives alone, but she has her faithful companion, a male Schnauzer dog (his name in fanfics is undetermined.)
MC has always been a lonely person, because after several events in the past she does not trust people easily, and the only people she does trust are her family, but she still has trouble talking about her problems to them.
Furthermore, MC is a very shy, introverted, anti-social person and suffers from social phobia, which of course, is a perfect combo to be an alien in society and not be able to make friends, even if she wants to.
MC also doesn't know where it all started from, but she does know that she has probably suffered from anxiety for many, many years, even though she only discovered it a short time ago, and went to get help even less time ago.
Because of anxiety, she ends up being stuck in her own world, or I should call it, hell itself. Her mind is a mess, bad, unreal and meaningless thoughts invade her mind all the time, and because she has been this way for so long without help and not knowing what to do, her situation has worsened to the point where her anxiety starts to change into a depressive anxiety.
However, as much as she has been suffering with her own mind for years, she can always count on her family whenever she needs them, even if they are distant from each other, they are inseparable.
Her father, as much as he doesn't understand most of the things she goes through, supports her and wants the best for MC, and so he does what he can to help MC pay for psychological treatment, and even though he doesn't understand, he always makes her smile and laugh, even when the situations are bad, even though he was always busy because of work, he always did what he could to be together, even in the simplest things, like family lunch, playing video games, watching movies, shopping together.
Her mother, on the other hand, has been through similar things like MC, and always try to help her the way she can, always speaking encouraging words, helping MC to do her things when she couldn't, sleeping next to the MC when she couldn't sleep because of anxiety, always being by her side, always supporting any decision, no matter the situation, MC's mom will always be there to hear her, either to hear about something that MC wants to do a lot or when she has some fear.
And there is also her younger brother (3 years younger), as much as they ended up arguing for silly things, he is her best friend, maybe her only true friend, always having fun together doing what they like, protecting each other, always being one for another, even when it was not known which words were right to say.
MC is blessed to have such an amazing family, and as much as she couldn't say "I love you, you are everything to me" to them, she loved them with all her heart and soul, and she couldn't say what would happen to her if she lost them, but probably something really bad would happen.
As much as it seemed that MC doesn't care about other people, maybe looking selfish and boring to others, she cares a lot about others, but she knows that this is also one of the big reasons why she suffers from anxiety, caring for others more than for herself, and for her own mental health, she had to try not to think so much about the problems of the world that she cannot solve.
Some people may think that she was wrong in doing this, but she wanted to have some sanity, even if little and trying to recover, than to go crazy with things that are impossible to fix, at least impossible for her to fix.
(Some other things about MC, but now simpler, because I'm out of time and too lazy, help me)
- Very distracted
- Very clumsy
- Nerd
- Dreamer / lost in her own world
- Impulsive
- Impatient
- Think too much about everything
- Studious
- Lonely
- Forgotten
- Problems with deadlines, do everything at the last minute.
- Avoid fights / arguments with people she doesn't know, but if it's someone close and it's a silly fight, she'll defend that she's right until the end, if she's wrong in the fight, she'll just be quiet for a while. If it is a serious fight, she will argue for some time until the tears stop her from continuing, and then she will be silent for a long time.
- Too stubborn
- Sarcastic with the closest people
- Always try to look for the good in people, but it is impossible for her to achieve kindness in certain people.
- Pessimistic
- Very sensitive / hurts / cries easily
- Perfectionist
- Very insecure
- She cannot express in words what she feels for other people
Likes:
Chocolate
Coffee
Rainy days
Winter
Music (Mainly, pop and rock)
To drive
Flowers
Taking pictures (mainly of landscapes)
Animals
Old things, like things related to the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s, or things from centuries ago
History
Books
Learn things
Horror stuff (games, books, movies)
Mystery
Horseback riding
Nature
Farms
See the city lights at night
Night
Games (both video games and board / cards)
Comics, Movies, Series etc about Superheroes
Mexican food
Travel
Psychology / Understanding the human mind
Buy drawing materials and books (even though she will never use / read them)
Big clothes
Wind
Ride a bike
Explore Abandoned Places
Dislikes:
Summer
Hot days
Insects
Spiders
Her mind
Who annoy her
People fighting
See things or people comment on things related to death or illness
Having to be patient
Who speak ill of her family
Working in a group
That people belittle her feelings
Parties
People
Delays
Alcoholic beverages
Buy clothes
Make up
High heels
Short dresses
Physics
Fears / Phobias / Things that bother her:
Spiders
Falling / High height
To drown
Die
Getting seriously ill
Dark / Night
To sleep
People
Speak in public
Losing her family
Stay alone
Crowds
Closed places
Tight clothes (Because she feels they are suffocating her)
Arrive late
Forget things
Having a car accident
Never be loved / Stop being loved
Future
May her fears come true
Skills:
- To draw
- Write
- Cook
- Game programming
- Sing
- Play keyboard and guitar
- To compose
- To dance
Hobbies:
Basically, it's her skills + reading + playing video games + taking pictures of the landscape.
Job:
Usually she either works as a waitress in a coffee shop or works in a supermarket (working at the checkout or replacing products on shelves)
As much as many find it strange, MC is very happy in her work, and does not mind working in "simple" jobs (basically jobs that earn little), and as much as she doesn't have much money, just enough to live reasonably well, she is happy with what she has and doesn't care about the money.
College:
She studies digital game design
I think that's it, there are some other things that I only do when I'm writing specific situations, for example, MC's opinions on certain subjects, and honestly I don't have time at the moment to make the MC's different opinions, and just say that she tries to be as neutral as she can, because she knows that extremes are never good, and that when asked which side she is in a situation (depending on what it is, but usually she says), she says doesn't have a side because it doesn’t identify herself by either side, because both are extreme, and this usually leads people to think that it’s on the fence, but it’s not like that, it’s more or less. "You were teleported to a place, there are two paths, one on the right and the other on the left, at the beginning of each of these paths there is a person, each talking about their paths and talking about why their path is the best of than the other and why you should follow their path. And then you must make a choice of which path to follow " But MC does not agree with either side, and will not wait there to see which side gives her the best benefit as many would do, she goes there and moves on, where there is no path, where there is no one, because she doesn't want to be on anyone's side, she wants to make her own opinions, and not follow what a group is saying.
Oh, and one of the philosophies she follows is of yin and yang, which says something like "There is good and there is evil, both need each other to exist, there is no good without evil, and no there is evil without good, and that nothing can be completely good or evil, since, however small, there is evil in good, and there is good in evil. "
Some phrases she would say:
"You can say anything about me, but don't come and talk about my family"
"I can't always do it, but I always try to be balanced, because I know that nothing comes out of extremism, no matter which side."
"I'm a Christian, I may not have proofs but I believe in God, but I don't believe everything in the Bible because it was made by humans, and I know that many of them used and still use people's faith to do very bad things . "
"Sorry, but I suck at remembering names, in fact, I suck at remembering."
"Shit, I knew I was forgetting something."
"I hate logic, most of these things don't make any sense!"
"At least I have you with me here DN" (DN = dog name)
"There is nothing that is not so bad that it cannot get worse"
"I think I celebrated too soon"
"I sleep! But no matter what I do, I will be forever sleepy!"
"No matter what I do, my thoughts disturb me from the moment I wake up until bedtime, and even while I'm asleep. And it happens every day."
"Sometimes ... I think ... people would be better off if I didn't exist. I just hinder and hurt people."
"I don't know when or how it started, I just know that I have been scared forever"
"I don't do it because I want to! It's not my fault if I'm easily distracted"
"I think writing is the only way to say what I feel"
"Yes, I know, I'm crazy, you don't have to tell me that"
"I'm not a normal person. Maybe I'm not even a human? What if I'm an alien and I don't know? A synthetic human? A robot with high artificial intelligence that is identical to that of humans?"
"I don't like to be afraid, but I love to see and read horror stuff."
"I love old things, they are so fascinating"
"What day is it today?"
"I just wanted to have a little courage that other people have"
"I have no hope of anything, as always, every time I had hope, very bad things happened, close people and pets died when I had hope that they would survive. For me, hope has long since died."
"I think, in a way, I am a miracle, just like my brother. I mean, it was almost impossible for my mom to have a baby, and look, here I am."
"I'm not cute!"
"I'm not short, I'm average height, it's the rest of the people who are very tall"
(Maybe I wrote a lot? Did I overdo it?)
Sorry if there is something confusing or errors in English
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just breathe
(Alice and Alfred get to audition for a theater college! But what happens when Alfred starts to have a panic attack mid audition?
TW: descriptive panic attack
(I projected myself onto Alfred for the first time, it was fun. Shoutout to the West of words discord for screaming about theater kids! alice/alfred so much. I love every single one of y'all <3)
Also posted on AO3 by @the_story_of_the_tucks
--
Alfred was sitting backstage while his best friend, Alice nailed her audition song.
Since they were little they always knew they would be actors someday. That dream grew into a reality when they started middle school and got into the theater program.
He remembers it like it was yesterday-
They were putting up a production of grease junior and the pair was so excited to be part of it. Sure they didn't get big roles since it was their first year but they fell in love with theater more than ever.
They started to get bigger roles until they ended up performing in the show Wonderland their senior year. Alice -of course- playing Alice and Alfred playing the white rabbit. Just like they have done so many times when they read the book.
He was so freaking proud of her for landing the leading role. Alice had an amazing voice and absolutely deserved everything.
Even now, she was on stage singing Whispering from Spring awakening to the judges who will determine if they get into this college or not.
That's why Alfred felt like he should run while he can. He did not consider himself as someone with stage fright since he could always perform in front of a crowd when he did his high school musicals.
But this was not a high school musical.
This was an audition that will determine his future. Will he get into the college of his dreams with her best friend? or will he fail at the audition and go to a normal college, leaving Alice behind and shattering his dreams?
He started to feel anxious a week before the auditions, everything became too real for Alfred.
This was not a silly high school audition were it didn’t even matter if he got ensemble or the fucking scarecrow from Wizard of Oz.
This was real life and had real life stakes. The teacher was not gonna take pity on him and cast him anyways! If he was not perfect in the audition he could kiss goodbye to his dreams.
So he started practicing a lot.
He read his song over and over again, sometimes staying past midnight and skipped meals just so he could study the lyrics.
He chose Tonight at eight from the musical She loves me. He knew it was a mouthful of a song but it also showcased his vocal range and acting skills.
“It's fitting since you always seem to be nervous about everything” Alice joked when Alfred told her which song he was auditioning with. At the moment they laughed about it but right now Alfred felt like throwing up from the nerves.
He just needed to calm down and concentrate on something else, how hard could it be?
Alice was still singing-
Her sweet but powerful voice filled the whole building and made Alfred´s heart melt. He could hear how much emotion she was putting on the song. She was not Alice at the moment; she was Wendla Bergmann, and she was fucking great at it.
-Listening...
For the hope, for the new life—
Something beautiful, a new chance.
Hear, it's whispering,
There, again…-
She held the last note at the end and then there was just silence. He heard her say her thank yous and then she ran backstage to Alfred´s arms.
“You did amazing!” Alfred smiled widely while hugging and spinning her a bit.
Alice laughed melodically “Thanks! I think the judges liked it too!” She was grinning like crazy, still having the rush from performing onstage.
They both stayed there, giggling for a few seconds as if nothing else in the world mattered but them. Then they hear Alfred's name called out on the speaker.
“Hallam, Alfred?”
He froze. He was not prepared for this! What was he even thinking? He was just going to turn around and get home just to not get humiliated in front of the judges.
Alice saw the look of panic in his face and held his hand. “Hey, hey-, you're gonna do great” she placed her hand in his shoulder to confort him “just don't get nervous, ok? you already practiced and you know everything by heart” she winked.
“Right” Alfred, nodded trying to convince himself “I’m fine- I’m not nervous at all-”
“Alfie, your hands are shaking”
“shit” Alfred held both of his hands at his chest and took a deep breath trying to calm down.
“You can do this” Alice smiled and squeezed his shoulder.
He can do this.
--
Alfred stood in front of the jury paralyzed by fear for what felt like forever but it was probably a few seconds.
“I- uh Hello” He cringed at how his voice sounded. “My name is Alfred Hallam and I will be performing Tonight at eight by the musical She loves me”
His hands were still shaking and he tried to crack his knuckles to cover it.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds and exhaled
He can do this
-I'm nervous and upset
Because this girl I've never met-
He started singing, ok so far so good.
-I get to meet
Tonight at eight-
He almost smiled, he was actually doing great!
-I'm taking her to dinner
At a charming old cafe,
But who can eat
Tonight at eight?-
Alfred made the mistake of glancing at the judges' table and saw them writing something down in their notepads. shit.
Were they writing something good about him? something bad?
-It's early in the morning,
And our date is not till eight o'clock tonight,
And yet already I can see
What a nightmare this whole day will be-
Maybe he had to get into the character a bit more? that's it! but he couldn't concentrate at all, his heart was beating too loudly and he felt the jury’s eyes burning holes at him.
-I haven't slept a wink,
I only think
Of our approaching tete-a-tete,
Tonight at eight.-
'C’mon Alfred' he thought. 'Just fucking concentrate on the song and don’t think about the jury watching you, or your too loud beating heart, or the fact that your hands started shaking again, or-'
-I feel a combination
Of depression and elation;
What a state!
To wait
Till eight!-
Why did he feel like he was getting out of breath? did the jury notice? were they writing on their notepads again?
-Three more minutes, two more seconds, ten more hours to go!-
He felt the room getting smaller and hotter.
-In spite of what I've written,
She may not be very-
very-
He paused.
God, what was the word? his mind was too foggy to think and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.
“Mr Hallam?” One of the people in the jury asked “Are you alright?”
Was he? Alfred couldn't breathe at all. His hands were shaking and his heart felt like it was threatening to fall out of his chest.
“Mr Hallam, do you need a minute?”
“I uh-” He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to talk “I’m sorry-”
And with that he ran backstage.
--
Alfred managed to reach the stairs outside the theater and sit down.
His hand were still shaking and they were starting to feel numb. He tried to wipe the sweat that was dripping down from his forehead but he couldn't control his hands enough to do it.
And worst of all? He felt like there was and elephant sitting on his chest.
Alfred couldn’t help but repeat the moment in his head.
He choked in front of the jury who would decide if he went to the school of his dreams or not- He forgot a song he had known all his life and had been practicing non stop for at least a month-
All those sleepless nights were for absolutely nothing- The judges probably thought that if he got freaked out by a simple audition he will most likely get worse in an actual play or with any performance.
What was he even thinking? he’s never gonna have a future as an actor! he’d probably was gonna end up being thirty and working in an office while Alice wins her third tony award and he won’t even be able to attend to the ceremony because he’d have to do the office reports or else he’ll get fired and-
“Alfie?”
He heard a familiar voice and looked up only to face the one and only Alice spencer.
He wanted to talk, he wanted to tell her he was okay and that she didn’t need to worry or make a fuss about him but only choked sobs came out of his mouth every time he tried to explain.
“Hey hey it’s ok-” Alice tried to soothe him, she gently took Alfred’s shaky hand and squeezed it.
“Try to match my breathing, ok?” she started to inhale and exhale slowly and Alfred tried to follow suit.
They have done this many times when they were kinds, whether it be because he was having an asthma attack and couldn’t find his inhaler, a panic attack or he was just freaking out. He could guarantee that Alice was gonna be always by his side helping him breathe.
But it was not gonna be like that after college started, right?
But it was not gonna be like that after college started, right?
“I fucked it up” He whispered between shaky breaths “I- I got too nervous and I choked mid audition”
“I know” Alice just squeezed his hand tighter, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“My future is ruined-”
“Hey, no its not” she said simply “We can go back and talk to the jury and explain you were having a panic attack”
“I-I can’t go back there! I don’t even know if they’ll even hear me and-”
“Alife” Alice looked directly at his green eyes “You’re probably not the first person who had a panic attack mid audition, they’ll understand”
“And if they don’t?”
“They will” she assured him.
Alfred was too tired to protest so he just limited himself to nod.
“After the other auditions finish we’ll go back and ask for another audition date, alright?”
Alice started ramble about her plan, it was kinda endearing.
“I don’t think i’m ready to go back just yet” Alfred said miserably
“I’ll go with you” Alice assured him “i’m not letting you face those judges alone, they’re scary”
Alfred laughed a bit “yeah, they are”
Alfred realized that no matter were they went Alice will always have his back and vice versa. It was relieving to know you have someone who will catch you if you fall and you’d have to catch them too sometimes.
They ended up talking to the judges together and agreed on scheduling another audition the next week, which gave Alfred a bit more time to go over the lyrics and prepare himself.
They both got their acceptance letters at the same time.
#this is a bad fic but eh#alice by heart#abh#alfred hallam#alice spencer#spallam?#halice?#alicefred?#the answer is yes#molly gordon#colton ryan#my fics
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Talk Therapy Chapter 3
Summary: Anna is engaged to the charming Hans, but Elsa has some concerns about the arrangement. Much to Anna's dismay, Elsa encourages her to seek out a professional opinion before going through with the marriage. That leads Anna into Kristoff Bjorgman's office where she is, with the help of her caring therapist, finally able to come to terms with the fact that maybe her relationship with Hans isn't all she thought it was.
[CONTENT WARNING: Descriptions of emotional manipulation/abuse]
AO3 link
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Anna stepped into the foyer of Hans’ home, shoes clicking against the marble flooring and echoing through the tall, barren ceilings. Hans’ house was pristine in nature, white and sterile in every sense of the words. The walls were tall and daunting at first, but Anna had learned to find solace within them. Where her parents had been taken away from her, Hans had come in and swept her off her feet, providing her love and comfort when she needed it most. College had been fun and she loved her friends, classes, and professors, but being so far away from her sister and losing both of her parents so suddenly had taken its toll, and she had found comfort in spending nights in his arms.
“Hans?” she called. Her voice bounced back to her, resonating through the room. He must not have been home yet.
Anna sighed and bounded over to the couch, slouching down and placing her feet up on the coffee table. Hans hated it when she laid around all over his nice furniture, a preference she was happy to respect when he was around, but a line she delicately snuck across whenever she was alone. The house felt so quiet and lonely, but she knew he would be home soon.
It was always a toss-up as to what mood Hans would be in after work. Sometimes he would have just closed a sales deal and they would watch movies and laugh and he would pull her into him and tell her how much he cared for her. Other times he would come in from a particularly bad day and he would criticize, snarl, and bat her away when she attempted to comfort him. She knew it wasn’t his fault. The amount of pressure he was under as the son of the CEO of the company was something she could never understand. He was in charge of a considerable amount of people, and the stress of it all frequently bubbled over into anger. She knew she couldn’t blame him. Better to take it out on her than his coworkers and risk getting fired. And besides, a particularly rough night meant that there would be flowers on the table the next morning, so she could hardly complain.
Anna checked the time and rose with a start. He would be home in less than 30 minutes. She bustled to the kitchen, eager to get started on their dinner so that, at the very least, if he came home upset and jaded, he couldn’t complain about dinner not being made on time.
The front door opened and shut with a ceremonious slam. Anna felt her heart stop as she waited for his first words. The first thing he said when he came in the door was a reliable indicator of how the rest of the night would go.
“It smells delicious in here,” Hans sighed as he came around the corner and into the kitchen.
Anna let out a breath as he kissed her forehead. “I’m making chicken alfredo. I’m warming up bread too,” she said, motioning to the oven. “How was your day at work?”
“We got that new client! God, it was incredible. Anna, you should have seen it. One of the other managers was fumbling with them and I swooped in and saved the day.”
Anna giggled. She loved when he was happy like this. “I’m so glad. You’re amazing.” She set the table. Hans sat at the head, and she placed his food in front of him before returning to the kitchen to retrieve her own.
“Can you grab some butter for the bread while you’re in there, dearest?”
Anna stopped in her tracks. Shit. She was supposed to go to the store today to pick up butter and wine and milk and-
“Anna?”
Anna spun on her heel, facing him with pleading eyes and hands outstretched in defense. “I’m so sorry, but I forgot to go to the store today. I promise I’ll go first thing tomorrow and get everything. I-”
“What could you have possibly been doing today other than going to the store?” he questioned.
“I’m sorry, I got side-tracked.”
“Doing what?”
“Cleaning, and, I got lunch with Elsa, I’m-” It was a lie, but one that she was willing to tell. Anything to avoid him finding out she was in therapy.
“Elsa.” Hans held his face in his hands, rubbing his temples. “You forgot to go to the store, and you saw Elsa? You know how I feel about her.”
“I know, but she’s my sister. I can’t just not-”
“She hates me, Anna.” He cut her off with a seething tone and a hand slammed to the table. “How do you think that makes me feel? I would never spend time with someone who didn’t approve of you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Guilt pricked at her sides. She didn’t mean to hurt him by seeing her, but Elsa was her sister.
“Silly girl. I don’t know how you expect to go to grad school if you can’t manage something simple like picking up butter from the grocery store.”
“That’s different,” she replied.
Hans threw his head back and groaned. “Anna, let’s not get into this now. Just sit down and let’s try to enjoy what you actually remembered to do.”
Anna nodded and ate her dinner in silence, listening to Hans prattle on about the sale he had made today.
Hans made a show of throwing the bread away after dinner. “No point in eating bread without butter,” he complained. She wanted to say how wasteful and childish that was, but Anna bit her lip. She knew better. It was her fault that the bread was being put to waste, anyway. Hans retired to his office, and Anna went up to their room to have a moment to herself.
She made her way to the bathroom and locked the door, confident that even if Hans wondered what she was up to, she could just say she was using the restroom or cleaning up the space. If he asked about the locked door, well, she would come up with something.
Hidden away in the bathroom, she pulled out the papers that had been weighing in her purse since her meeting with Kristoff. She sat on the floor, paper and pen poised against the linoleum tiles, the coolness of the surface below her creeping up into her skin. She turned her eyes to the questions at hand.
How would you rate your sense of self-esteem? How would you describe yourself? What are your best qualities? What are your worst qualities? How would you describe a perfect life? If you could change anything about your life, what would you change?
What would her perfect life look like? Parents who were still alive. A sister who had been around her for longer than just one year. An elementary school class of her own. A husband who let her go to grad school and get her teaching degree.
Anna shook off the thought. She was lucky to be in this house with him. Lucky that he loved her and let her love him.
Have you ever had thoughts of death or suicide? Have you ever engaged in self-destructive behaviors? Do you ever wish you were someone else?
Anna felt her stomach rise up in her throat. She wanted to bury herself beneath the ground and emerge without the memories of the days spent alone in her dorm room staring blankly at the wall or of sneaking to the bathroom to cry, quietly shutting the door behind her as to not wake Hans.
She felt childish. Stupid. She felt hot tears pricking in her eyes, the memories and Hans’ words from earlier swimming around in her brain until she could no longer think clearly. Why couldn’t she be better? For Hans and for herself. A tear fell onto the paper. Anna stood and made her way to her desk in their bedroom. No more of those questions. She needed to stop and just breathe.
Anna pulled up her laptop and wiped a shaky hand across her cheek to stop a stay tear that leaked out of her eye. She opened up Google and typed.
Kristoff Bjorgman
The words seemed to pulse in the Google search bar. She clicked in the enter key and results popped up one after another. A picture of Kristoff showed up on the side of the screen, a soft smile splayed out across his face. She felt some of her anxiety dissipate at the sight of his warm, brown eyes. That was the only image of him she could find, save for one of a small group of smiling students, heads held high. He stood out of the bunch due to his height and the soft, tousled blonde of his hair. She clicked on the link. The image was attached to a story about the graduating class of his master’s program. She was impressed, intimidated even. Getting any sort of higher education was an honor and something to be proud of. It was hard work, something that Hans often reminded her she wasn’t ready for. He was right, of course. But she would be. One day.
She clicked on a link that had his name followed by the words “Student Profile, Class of 2017”.
The picture with his warm eyes and shy smile sat proudly at the top of the page. She spent a moment looking at it, letting herself fall into his eyes and recall the gentle lull of his voice. A graduate of University of Washington’s master program in psychology, the article said that he graduated with honors and started the practicum hours needed to become licensed immediately following graduation. Anna took in all she could about this man.
“My school counselor helped me greatly as a child. I want to provide that same support that I received to children who need to be heard. People often forget that childhood can be just as difficult as adulthood and that children greatly need mental health support.” Anna could hear the quote in his voice, gentle and smooth like a lullaby. Kristoff was so sure of himself and seemed so calm and together during their session. It pained her to envision a Kristoff who sat alone and afraid in a school counselor's office. What could he have needed that support for?
She kept going, finding herself reading a quote from one of his professors. “Bjorgman consistently impressed me with his desire to find the whole picture and address the underlying roots of situations as opposed to just the obvious quick fixes. Intuitive and calming, he will be an excellent psychologist to whichever populations he chooses to serve.” Anna had only been with Kristoff for an hour-long session, and yet, she agreed with every word of the article. She scrolled back up to the top of the page and sighed as she saw his picture. Intuitive. Calming. Dreamy.
“Anna, dear? Are you okay?”
Anna’s breath hitched in her throat. She slammed the lid of her laptop shut and scrambled to shove the papers into the drawer of her desk. “Yes! Yes, I’m fine,” she called, cursing herself for the tremble in her voice.
“What have you been up to up here? I’ve missed you,” he cooed, striding over to where she stood at attention by her desk. He trailed a finger along her cheek. “I’ve been working terribly hard, and I would love to relieve some stress in bed tonight.”
Anna smiled, relieved that he didn’t press her on her scrambling to put her things away or bring her mistakes from earlier back up. She was almost giddy with excitement. She was being offered a chance to make up for her earlier mistakes, a chance to prove herself. And besides, she knew that it would be in her best interest if she wanted her loving Hans tomorrow and not the cross one she got whenever he went to bed with unrelieved stress.
“Of course,” she replied, happy to be useful to him. Happy to be needed. So lucky to be loved by him.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Truth or Dare? 1/3 probably
much of the details about him in this fic is from things b has said in interviews, on periscope, twitch, twitter... see if you can guess what is true vs details/things i made up. other things, like most of his friends being girls (at least as a kid and teen) i don't think he's ever stated outright but i consider so damn obvious as you learn about him eg the bullying, his best friend in 8th grade was a girl. hopefully, all the things i remember him saying he's actually said and i didn't dream it/imagine it haha. also i love this fic so fucking much if i may say so. one of my faves, to be a braggart. in this universe, he never got introduced to spence or ryan, hence no mentions of them or panic! and him going off to arizona for cosmetology
tag list @greatheromuffinpalace @paypoulterer1 @anyh0w @anobsessioncalled @panicsinning @queerbrendon @prettyoddfiction @iwriteficsnottragediesladies @uriellybrendon @pageoftheclouds @brendonuriesbubblyass @ier0-must-die @itriedallthenamesiwantedaretaken @xfoxtalynx @spacesams00 @satanspuppet-x @1-800-hallelujah @ryrostan @tacobelltylerr @urie-dreams [just message me to be added or taken off the tag list]
----
You're watching Aladdin with Brendon, after Alice in Wonderland but before Bambi because you don't want to wind up crying yet. He's totally like Flower and Bambi. Loves flowers, flirty and doe-eyed, for starters. He's an Aladdin too, and is singing along with you as you're cuddled up on your bed with him, him absentmindedly playing with, brushing your hair. He stopped styling it a while ago, but you love having your hair played with, scalp massaged, neck too, as much as he does... Even that has arousal spreading, tickling over you.
You don't have class tomorrow, but he has a cosmetology one in the morning. He's still excited about not having someone telling him to get to bed though, and you're too relaxed, and uh... you like how you feel around him too much, how simple things, touches kind of turn you on, to suggest he get to sleep or leave your room. Besides, your roommate went home for the weekend. And these blankets and pajamas are comfy. You wind up getting into A Whole New World though: dramatic actions and singing, batting lashes at each other, giggling, pretending the bed is a magic carpet like the dorks you two are...
You offer your lap for his head to get pets in once the song ends... You love touching his hair. Watching his lashes, eyes, lips in the television light. Hearing his breathing deepening, his sighs, a couple mmms when you stroke the nape of his neck, tug his hair, scritch his scalp. You've only known him a couple months, but... whoo boy. Too bad he's gayer than the day is long. And kind of has a boyfriend from his program, George. Well, a friend with benefits.
“Truth or dare, B?” you ask when the movie ends, but neither of you move.
“'M sleepy from all those pets, y/n, so for once, I'm going with truth.”
“Were you like this as a kid? Was it musicals and wanting to do cosmetology and stuff back then too? Like not being... being... different. From how boys were supposed to be.”
He chuckles. “Pretty much. Did skateboarding for years, and some soccer, but that was pretty much the extent of the manly shit. Well, the heavy metal too. And lots of people did pot. But mostly the kind of things people thought boys shouldn't do. Most of my friends were girls. Still are. Liked making people laugh, entertaining them. Gymnastics, dance; just messing around not pro. Did sets for the drama kids in high school. I fit in with some guys, mostly chill stoner or art types, guys who weren't straight, but not many. Sometimes I had to fake it to get by with guys, if it even worked. But mostly stuff like the dress up box.”
“What'd you dress up as?”
“Different musical roles, like Maria and Cosette, Jean Valjean. I remember being about five and wrapping curtains around myself like a dress and singing Sound of Music. Cheerleader with the miniskirt and all from my older sister Kara. Uh... pirate, cowboy, or cowgirl. Elvis, Carly Simon, Gwen. Wanted to sound like her so bad. Beyonce. David Bowie in Labyrinth, without a proper wig though. And a few of the personas he had different eras too. Jareth was mixed up in a crush on him. Like I wasn't sure how much I wanted to play that role versus liked David... At twelve, with Jessica Alba, that was a lot clearer. Make up too, some wigs. Lots of my mom's clothes. I'm sure you can tell on that last one.” He still wears women's jeans now. And hoodies, shirts, a couple pairs of sneakers...
“Oh, a weird flower boy version of Rambo,” he laughs. “Like the headband, but my mom's blouse and jeans, a bouquet of flowers, heels, dad's sunglasses... Still have a picture of that one. And we have lots of home movies of stuff. Me being a lounge singer with a feather boa and gold dress... seducing my mom. Oh, shit, can't believe I just admitted that aloud. Anyway, there was firefighter, seamstress, servant, scuba diver, vet... Vampire, fairy, witch. Playing a mom or sister in plays, like sometimes one of my sisters would be the dad, I'd be the mom, or we'd be three sisters. Or they'd be the mom and dad and I'd be their baby. I remember one where I was pregnant—pillow and doll baby, haha—and Kyla was the pirate doctor helping me deliver on the ship. Or the damsel in distress being rescued by them. Or kidnapped by them. Or we had to save our mom, the queen, from a dragon or evil king.”
They were imaginative too! You're picturing them, little Brendon in these outfits, roles. So cute, and silly, and did you say cute? He must've been adorable, playful and an entertainer back then, too. He's done an open mic a few times and sings and plays at parties with friends. You've seen him do it last Saturday, nervous but eager to sing and play guitar, or keyboard. He said that music was his favourite hobby, that he loves doing it, especially for people, but you had no idea how deep it went.
“Me in my sister's gymnastic leotard, but over my shorts because she didn't want it so close to my crotch.”
The crotch part makes you think of it: if he wears... uh, panties too? The thought makes you flush and feel embarrassed. You haven't seen him in a dress or skirt either, but he used to wear those. You wonder if he still does and you just haven't seen it. You think they'd suit him for some reason. The lavender hoodie, the pink sneakers, plus a miniskirt? Denim, or black. God, you bet that he'd look even better, draw you to him more.
“Wish we had dress up stuff to play with here, B. Bet it was fun. And I bet you looked so cute.”
He gets up, but it's to turn on the lamp; the tv had gone dark. He bats his lashes. “Oh, I did.”
You both laugh as you throw a pillow at him. “Goofball. Don't ever let me tell you you still look cute, then. And that I actually would want to see you with a dress up box.”
“Truth or dare?” he asks. You'd forgotten how this started.
“Truth?” Neither is a safe bet, so you just go with what he went with to even it out.
“Would you want to see me dressed up? Like... in things here... of yours?”
Your breath catches. Are you that obvious? You nod, asking “Truth or dare?”
He grins. “Whattaya think, y/n? Dare.”
“M-maybe... uh... a skirt? On you, I mean?”
“That can be arranged.” He practically bounces over to your closet, sorts through, deciding on a long soft blue and lilac hippieish flowery one that goes to your ankles, a purple plaid one that comes to your knees but would be two to three inches shorter on him, and your denim one that's so short it would be a mini on him. You wear it with black tights or other pants it's so short. Really, he picked most of them; you only have two others. He holds them out one by one, then places them over his hips: “Which one would fit me best?”
You get flustered, because you want to see the denim one most, but worry it would be too short for him. The plaid one? It gives “naughty schoolgirl” vibes to boys and men, older pervs included, so you don't wear it much, even though it reminds you of a newly formed coven of witches stuck at a Catholic school for some reason (you blame The Craft). You wonder what'd look like on him. You bet he's worn skirt school uniforms before, and that he'd get cheesy with it, calling you Miss and asking hammily but flirtatiously about extra credit, asking you to teach him, maybe bending over... which not going to lie, you do want if it got sexily funny, but you know it couldn't mean anything.
He grins. "Warning ya, my legs are really hairy, so you might wanna go with the longest one. What can I say, I've got Jewish legs."
You snort. "Guess I've got Jewish legs too: my hair is a light brown, but there's lots of it below my knees. I stopped shaving now that it's November." You can't help wondering if he's dressed up for Hallowe'en in a girl's costume, or in drag, and what he'd look like; even some guys who are kind of sexist and homophobic do that for Hallowe'en, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary even outside of the gay bar you and he were let into a few times, because George knew the bouncer. Both of your first one, bar or gay bar.
"Oh, I bet I've got more than you," he jokes, and slides his pant leg up a bit, doing a "banananana" strip tease music thing, shaking his leg, making you both giggle.
"Go with the shortest one, B. Bet you'd look super sexy," you reply, hammily winking.
"No peeking!" he admonishes teasingly, hiding behind your closet door, but he pops his booty out and sways it before hiding again. His jeans quickly get flung towards you to him laughing, "Hey, you ever see that British film The Full Monty?"
"It's kinda tight on my ass, but loose on my hips. What can I say? I bring the booty. But your hips are more womanly than mine, alas," he sighs dramatically. “And your thighs are damn. Um. At least it covers my underwear. Pretty much.” He peeks out, excited. "Ready? I just wanna make sure you're prepared for my hairy ass legs, oh and my stunningly gorgeous ass."
"Pshaw, I know that that booty brings all the boys to your yard, you tramp." He's really a tease at that bar. Both guys his age and kind of older, but only one creep. He always drinks for free, gets you drinks too, and you alternately keep close and watch from afar and let him do his thing with said boys. He only talks with most, often dances, but if he likes the guy, the dancing goes beyond pg territory, kissing too, and he even went home with one of them.
#brendon urie fanfic#brendon urie fanfiction#brendon urie imagine#childhood#college#truth or dare#truth or dare fic#slow burn by my standards anyway#brendon urie smut#teasing#college!b#college!au#brendon loves having his hair played with#let boys wear dresses#crossdressing#feminine boy#bisexual brendon#another fic where the reader thinks b is gay as fuck#he gets that a lot#but crushes on him anyway#i feel ya girl i feel ya#i've been there. a lot#and i honestly think this is how girls and women generally saw b throughout his life with many realizing he was bi not gay#i love this fic if i may brag
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aziraphale and The Fall of Man
No one is going to read this and honestly no one should. I said I wasn’t going to write about it but the biblical literature nerd in me had me at knife point so I guess this is: Aziraphale’s Character Arc (in the television program, not the book) and how it interacts with “The Fall” narrative in Genesis 1-3.
To preface, two things, I am not a member of any faith that uses the Old Testament as scripture , I’m just a damn big bible nerd who wants to tell everyone about the beautiful nuance of language in ancient Hebrew texts and tie it to my other obsession, Good Omens. Secondly, I have no clue if this was intentional in the writing of Aziraphale for the show and am not saying it was, this is just me having fun. This is probably going to get long and out of hand and very esoteric and uninteresting so heres a “keep reading”.
Aziraphale by the end of Good Omens has fallen. No, he is not necessarily a fallen angel, but he has mirrored the fall narrative of humanity and in his choices by the end of the series, and thats very interesting. Aziraphale goes from listening to what he has been told about what makes someone good, what makes them bad, whats right and whats wrong, to instead, with his perfect other half, choosing those things for himself and defining his own good and bad.
First a little bible info, for my wild ramblings here to make any sense, you need to know the Eden story which of course GO plays with directly throughout the novel and in the show. The way the popular consciousness generally discusses the story of “the fall of humanity” which takes place in Genesis 1-3 is this: Adam and Eve, created to be perfect partners and live in harmony with all of creation, are tempted to eat the fruit of the tree of knowing good and evil. They do this and as a result themselves as well as all of humanity is condemned to a life outside of divine grace and death. But there are some issues with this common reading of the story! because most of us who are English speakers are reading roughly translated ancient poetry where some words don’t have equivalents in our language... this is an issue. In order for me to make my point about Aziraphale and his tie to Genesis 1-3 the most important thing is that you understand that the phrase “knowing good and evil” is disastrously translated in essentially all english versions of the bible.
“To know” in Hebrew, יָדַע, or anglicized “yada”, is not “knowing” as in being aware of, it is to choose, define or declare, even to create. This word is experiential. As many know this word is also the word used in the Hebrew Bible for sexual intercourse, “Adam ‘יָדַע’ Eve his wife”, this demonstrates that this word’s experiential nature. When Adam and Eve gain the ability of “knowing” good and evil, they aren’t learning what good and evil are; they are being given the ability to choose what is good and what is bad-- to define the polarity for themselves. The other , too often mistranslated, word in these passages that is important for the connection to Aziraphale’s character arc is the word עֵ֖זֶר , or ê.zer which is usually translated to “helper” and is what Eve is described to be when she is created, an ê.zer to Adam. But this is far from the right word!!! ê.zer is only used 4 times in the Hebrew scripture, and half of those are when people are pleading for god to be their ê.zer. My favorite biblical scholar, Tim Mackie, translates this word as “salvation” or “The one without whom I cannot live”. It is not a simple helper, and it isn’t unequal like that, it is the perfect other half. In summation, the narrative of Eden is in fact: two inseparable lovers, ê.zer to each other, who choose to go against the system they are born into and choose to redefine (yada) good and evil for themselves.
(if you want more on Eden, including how even the terms good and evil are more complex than the english translation check out this for helpful info and for even more this)
Okay so Aziraphale’s character arc. When the narrative of the show begins, in Eden, we see an Aziraphale who clearly sees the world in black and white, heaven is good, hell is evil, angels are good, demons are evil. He is good, Crowley is evil (not that he doesn’t like him, but he sees Crowley as objectively evil). We see this when he insinuates that the temptation of adam and eve must have been bad because Crowley did it, thats how the dichotomy he knows works: if it has been done by the bad side, it must be bad
The way Aziraphale sees the world is informed solely by the dichotomy he has been given.
we see this way of understanding the world continue as Crowley tries to reach out with affection to our sweet sweet angel here, only to be rejected at every turn-- because Aziraphale is letting this dichotomy inform his decisions. This is pretty explicit in the infamous gazebo scene. Aziraphale reminds Crowley that he is evil and himself, he is good. He’s the nice one. They’re on opposite sides. and when Crowley insists they have their own side Aziraphale falls apart, he remembers the fall of humanity, he saw it with his own eyes he knows how dangerous creating your own side is, you cannot redefine this dichotomy for yourself. He lashes out.
but Aziraphale throughout the series learns that this dichotomy, the one that he has been taught, is silly. Crowley is a far better being than any of the angels in Heaven’s bureaucracy. Heaven wants to end the world just as much as Hell and no one gives a damn about humanity who he loves sincerely. Aziraphale begins to rebel against this false reality he has known since the beginning of time. We see this in him agreeing that he is really a pathetic excuse for an angel.
If an angel, if the “nice one” in this dichotomy, is someone who fights for whats clearly wrong and destructive, thats not him. By the end of the show he is clearly on his own side with Crowley, the two of them fighting for what they know is right. They have decided what is right based on knowing it rather than being told. And of course at the end of the show (and the novel) we have both our demon and angel telling the other that this dichotomy is false in the sweetest way possible:
Crowley and Aziraphale have redefined what it means to be good and bad, starting with each other.
Aziraphale, like Adam and Eve, in the beginning, listens blindly to what he has been told is good and bad, what he should love and what he shouldn't. At the end of the story, Aziraphale has redefined good and evil for himself with his "One I cannot live without”, just like the humans themselves. He may not be a good angel, but he is more human than ever.
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Combatting Cummings Communications Campaign
So, here they are.
Three road-tested and ready to go campaign messages designed to strike at the wavering hearts of a few hundred thousand people in a smattering of marginal constituencies that Dominic Cummings knows he needs to win if he is to save Brexit and place Boris ‘Bozza’ Johnson on the Iron Throne of rUK until god knows when.
These simple, pared-back statements have been focus-grouped to death, and are now finely-honed weapons of mass persuasion. They are to be feared.
They will be repeated ENDLESSLY by the Conservativeratti, hoping that, over time, the statements will smash their way into the consciousnesses of ordinary people, grab ahold of their amygdalas, and squeeze a vote for the Tories out of their ordinary hands.
But there are two great things about these statements:
1. They tell us lots about what Dominic Cummings has learnt from his focus groups
2. They can be killed.
Let’s deal with point 2 first.
Behavioural science tells us that if you keep repeating a statement enough, eventually it will become truth. This is why Donald Trump says ‘Fake News’ a lot. If you keep repeating something that taps into people’s emotions, you will have an even easier job. And if that thing you repeat is very simple to say, job is most definitely a goodun.
These days lots of bad people on the depressing side of politics have worked this out, and the internet is abuzz with the sounds of bite-size populist sentiments pouring unwantedly into the minds of defenceless populaces, from Budapest to Beijing.
BUT – behavioural science also tells us how to effectively debunk these unhealthy mind viruses, strip them of their power and turn them into weapons that actually do the opposite of what was originally intended, like a re-programmed Terminator.
This was done to some effect in the 2017 election, when Theresa May’s ‘Strong and Stable’ message gradually became paired with a ‘Weak and Wobbly’ counter-message (on t’internet at least), which – allied with her increasingly wobbly performances - made repeating the phrase more of a liability than a strength. By the end of the campaign they had stopped using it altogether.
And that’s what we are going to try and do this time around – take super-villian Dominic’s campaign messages apart, and reconstitute them as something remain-y.
This is an eminently winnable fight. The Conservative victory absolutely depends on getting the kind of people who hate Brexit but also hate Jeremy Corbyn and thought Ed Miliband was a bit wet to say ‘fuck it, there’s no one else, I have to vote for Boris fucking Johnson because I am a Conservative voter’.
whereas, our victory depends on getting these lovely people to say “I don’t feel good about voting for Boris Johnson, and I never wanted Brexit anyway.” And then either voting for someone else or just going to the pub and saying fuck it all and not voting.
By the way - they are not going to vote for Corbyn, okay?
I know loads of these people, and so do you. They feel politically homeless and are ripe for conversion.
So, what does behavioural science say about how exactly you counter Dominic’s misinformation? Well, there are certain key principles:
1. Never re-state the myth. In 2017, too many people would say “it doesn’t sound very ‘Strong and Stable’ if you can’t turn up to your own debate. Sounds more like weakness”. This is wrong, wrong, wrong. All you are doing is strengthening the phrase ‘Strong and stable’ in someone’s mind. No, instead you must have a…
2. Persuasive alternative counter message. Which you repeat anytime you come across the original. This counter message should directly relate to the original message (e.g. ‘weak and wobbly’ scans like ‘strong and stable’), and it should contradict its impact.
3. It should be simply expressed
4. It should be framed to appeal to YOUR audience.
So, let’s look at the three Conservative statements and see what they can tell us about how to destroy them. Here they are:
1. We will get Brexit done by October 31st
2. We are the Party of the people
3. We will take this country forward.
I am going to deal with the last one first, as I think this is the common theme that will underpin a lot of what the Tories try to do over the next few weeks.
We will take this country forward
It’s clear that much of the clash and thunder of Bozza’s arrival in Number 10 over the last few weeks have been about creating the illusion of busyness and purpose. ‘At least he is doing something’ cries Dominic’s target audience, and this message is designed to appeal further to that powerful sentiment of frustration.
This central idea of forward momentum, impetus, activity, inevitability is going to be big for the Tories. They will complain that they were dragged into an election they did not want, and only they, not the squabbling remainers or even parliament as a whole, have the sense of initiative to get us out of the morass.
And it makes some intuitive sense. They do have a plan (a stupid, self-serving one), and they are certainly very focused on winning over the next few weeks (for the benefit of the Conservative party if not the country). So, you can’t challenge this myth by saying, “no, you are not going forward”. They are most definitely in motion.
What you have to say instead is “But they are heading in the wrong direction.”
It’s that simple: “The Tories are steering Britain in the wrong direction.”
Easy. Say that whenever you hear this ‘going forward’ line, and it will become a rock of Kryptonite around the neck for them.
Or, in the mocked-up parody campaign posters: ‘We are taking this country in the wrong direction” under a big picture of Boris’ mug.
Of course, you will have to be able to justify why you think they are pointing us in the wrong direction – but as soon as you do that you have WON, because now we are not talking about ‘forward’, but about ‘wrong direction’.
And it’s easy to justify, because not only is Brexit a BAD thing, but also they are spectacularly unprepared for any of the logistical issues of either shit Brexit, or terrifically shit Brexit, PLUS they are not going to get any meaningful changes to a thrice-rejected deal so we are either going to be a vassal state or watching fist fights breakout in chemists all over the country over the availability of Epipens or both.
See – wrong direction.
Which brings me to point 1.
We will get Brexit done by October 31st
So, once again, the way to deal with this is not to say ‘no, you won’t’, or ‘it’s a coup and the Queen will stop you’ or anything else silly – that will not appeal to our target audience.
The power of this statement comes from (1) implying that the endless debates and fannying about around Brexit will be over if we just lie back and let Bozza get on with it, and (2) that this is not such a bad thing after all – in fact it’s all fine and we might as well be cheered by his jollying, can-do demeanour rather be positively sickened by it.
It’s key to challenge this ‘not such a bad thing after all’ emotion with its converse – Brexit is in fact a terrible, terrible thing (for many of the reasons listed above).
To this end, we have had a stroke of good luck, courtesy of Theresa May no less, who managed to delay the date of Brexit doom to October 31st. Or Halloween.
Yes, Halloween.
Brexit is coming on Halloween.
And thus it is easy to pair evil with evil in the mind of the floating voter.
There are many possible permutations, e.g.:
· Boris’ Halloween Horror Show is coming
· It’ll be a real fright night this Halloween
· Don’t let your kids see what Weird Uncle Boris has planned for them, etc.
The important thing is to pair the October the 31st thing with fear.
And yes, here at last we can use Project Fear to our advantage. If someone mentions it, we can say “Yes, it is Project Fear – because Boris is about to make Project Fear a reality – on Halloween... Steve Barclay said last week they haven’t even started talking yet about how to keep car parts supply chains running after Brexit – WTF?!”
See – turn their weapons on them.
This can be fun, this can be playful. We can make memes where Boris is a scary clown. We can make jokes. We can make deep fakes.
The important thing is October 31st stops being a nothingburger, and starts being something that people might want to think carefully about before rushing headlong into it.
So we have:
· Boris’ Halloween Horror Show is coming
· He’s steering Britain in the wrong direction!
I think these two ideas play well off what I imagine are Bozza’s brand weaknesses - his underlying associations with being reckless, slapdash, mendacious and spivvy. Our target voter has all these doubts about him too.
We are the Party of the people
So this is the Tories attempt to roll their tanks on to traditional Labour territory, by indicating that they are the true champions of the 2016 popular vote, PLUS this probably also encapsulates their crowd pleasing policies on the NHS, policing and crime.
You can’t challenge this by pointing out (as I am sure Labour supporters are minded to do) that no they are bloody not the Party of the people. Trying to explain who actually influences Tory policy and how that tends not to benefit the person in the street is all a bit ‘yawn’ and won’t actually register with disengaged voters.
No, we need something cleverer and something that skewers the meaning at the heart of the message.
I think the solution is two fold:
One – the statement refers to ‘the people’ like we were one big homogenous mass of dutiful subjects, but the truth is vast swathes of the country are not reconciled to Brexit and never will be. They are in open rebellion against their flagship policy.
Most polls show more than 50% support for remain these days – so even those soft Tory voters who are leaning towards voting for him for want of any other obvious candidate do not feel truly represented by him.
Boris is acting like he is the unifying figure that can bring the country back together, and this is where we must challenge the statement. He is not uniting us at all. We are a divided people.
And this gives us the key to unravel the second part of the sentence – that reference to the big P Conservative Party.
The sentence implies that the Conservative party is acting with one voice (trying desperately to draw on that ‘stability’ that they have long ago squandered) – but the plain truth is they are divided too.
MPs are resigning, others are in open rebellion and the executive is calling for de-selection. They, like the people are split down the middle.
So there you have it:
“A divided party can never unite our country”.
The final message:
· Boris’ Halloween Horror Show is coming
· His divided party can never unite our country
· He’s steering Britain in the wrong direction!
Getting the message out
It’s clear from 2016 that Dominic has lots of whizzy tools for targeting his message where it needs to go, and you may not.
But you do know soft Tories, lots of them.
What you need to do now is to deliver this message – by sharing it on social media – into the heart of the conversation about who should run our country so it changes the dialogue and makes everything they try to do work against them.
You are like Han Solo flying the Millenium Falcon deep inside the Death Star, Frodo lobbing Gollum into the Cracks of Doom, Arya pulling the knife-drop trick on the Night King. Watch the waves of destruction spread.
Thanks for listening and good luck.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Secret Santa: A WCPL Side Story
*doesn’t update WCPL for 9 months then writes this entire thing in 3 hours*
Summary: Bulma organised a Secret Santa for the WCPL staff, and Yamcha was unfortunate enough to draw his crush's name. Now he has to do a bunch of anonymous good deeds for Tien without letting him know that he likes him. Shenanigans ensue.
Word Count: 3606
Special Thanks: to @greentrickster for Wolf at the Door of His Heart, which I keep referencing in Tiencha things because I love it so much <3
"It's pretty simple," Bulma explained, shaking the Santa hat. "Whichever name you get, you have to do a bunch of anonymous nice things for all next week. It doesn't have to be expensive--in fact your budget for the whole week is $15, so don't go crazy or anything. But you know, maybe make coffee for them on your break and leave it at their desk when they're not looking. Or make lunch for them one day. Decorate their work area. You know. Little things like that."
Krillin raised his hand. "Do we eventually get to find out who our Secret Santa was or do we live in suspense for the rest of our lives?"
Lapis laughed and Bulma rolled her eyes. "No, Krillin. Next Friday at the staff party everyone should bring one last little thing for their Secret Santa and give it to them in person. So you'll need to have at least one thing a day--that should be six total, including the gift for the staff party. It'll start on Monday." She shoved the Santa hat forward. "Okay, guys, pick your poison!"
Sighing, Yamcha reached into the hat. He just couldn't really get into the holiday spirit this year. Maybe it was because he was still reeling from his final breakup with Bulma, or maybe it was just because it was a week and a half into December and it still hadn't snowed yet. It was annoying. Usually he was all over Christmas. It hadn't been his favourite holiday growing up, but he could enjoy it a lot more now that he could go buy his own shitty candy cane Oreos anytime he wanted.
Actually, Yamcha was pretty sure he knew why he was having a hard time getting into things lately. As he pulled his hand back with a slip of paper inside, he glanced at Tien from the corner of his eye. His stupid little crush on Tien was going nowhere, and he was doing his best to accept that and move on, but that was always easier said than done. Hell, his issues with moving on were half the reason he'd let his relationship with Bulma drag on so long. Unfortunately, his feelings for Tien were getting in the way and bogging him down. That made it hard to get into anything else--like Christmas--and he was stuck in a vicious circle.
Yamcha retreated to a corner to check out the name on his paper. He'd have to come up with a few things to do for them...hopefully this would be just what he needed to kickstart his holiday spirit and he could finally scrounge up the energy to start decorating his apartment.
As he read the name on the paper, though, he felt his legs wobble. There, in Bulma's bright blue scrawl, was the name Tien Shinhan.
Yamcha was going to die.
Yamcha drummed his fingers on the desk and stared into space. He had to do at least five nice things for Tien anonymously, then get him a present. God, what did Tien even want? He mostly worked in the Circulation office or out in the stacks, so decorating his workspace was pretty much out of the question. There was no way Yamcha could sneak into the Circulation office while Tien wasn't there long enough to decorate, anyway. He'd have to stick with leaving little anonymous presents around.
Except that brought him back to his original problem. What did Tien want? Or need, even? Cleaner for his reading glasses? Coffee? Yamcha could always break out the old scrapbooking materials Bulma convinced him to get into and make him a bookmark. Cookies were always good, but he'd probably have to make sure he didn't have any allergies.
He had to work fast. The exchange was set to start on Monday, so he only had the weekend to figure things out. Yamcha buried his face in his hands and groaned. And of course, because it was Tien, he had an extra layer of his big dumb stupid crush to deal with. He had to do a good job. Even if Tien never liked him back, he had to impress him. Yamcha knew he wouldn't put this much effort into the Secret Santa if it wasn't for his crush, but it wasn't like he could just stop himself from feeling the way he did.
A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped, looking up to see his boss standing over him. "You alright?" she asked. "Not like you to be moping around."
"Sorry, Higashi." Yamcha sat up straighter and tried to focus on his work. He'd been making an advertisement for their senior's computer class, right?
"Don't be sorry." Higashi put her hands on her plump hips and tilted her head as she looked at him. "You're distracted by something."
Yamcha laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "That obvious, huh?"
"I told you that silly Secret Santa thing of Bulma's was a bad idea." She shook her head and shrugged. "All it's going to do is distract people."
Yamcha kept his mouth shut and went back to work, hoping that if Higashi saw him working hard she'd leave him alone.
Sneaking candy canes into the Circulation department was easier said than done, because Tien's boss was always around and hyperaware of everything happening all the time. In the end, Yamcha had to pretend he was there to get something for a program Higashi was running and ended up with an armload of books he didn't need, more puns than he knew what to do with from the Circulation head, and several sympathetic looks from Chiaotzu. He trudged back up to the Information Services department, exhausted despite the fact that he was only an hour into his shift.
Higashi raised an eyebrow at him from behind the desk when he came up the stairs. "What happened to you?"
"Kita's puns," he explained, dumping his books on the desk. "Remind me to bring those back down in a few hours."
She laughed and shook her head. "You probably could've just told him you were there for Secret Santa reasons."
"Are you kidding? Kita can't keep a secret to save his life." Yamcha leaned over the desk. "It'd be all over the library before I even got back upstairs." His gaze caught a cup of coffee at Higashi's elbow. "I thought you didn't drink coffee."
"Oh, this? Someone brought it by for you." She handed it up to him with a wink. "But I'm better at keeping secrets than Kita, so I'm not telling who it was."
Grinning, Yamcha raised the cup to his lips. Whoever it was had even put the extra sugar he liked in it. At least he was getting something good out of this exchange.
It was easier to find an excuse to get into Circulation the next day. Yamcha simply "forgot" to return "Higashi's" books from the day before and brought them down, insisting on putting them on the cart himself in an effort to get into the back office. Tien wasn't there, and Yamcha felt a stab of guilt when he realised he'd probably be waiting for him in the staff room. They were lucky(?) enough to have their morning breaks at the same time every day, so they always spent it together, laughing about the terrible coffee Pilaf had made that morning or swapping stories of awful patrons. He'd have to make it up to him afterwards, but surely he'd understand later when Yamcha revealed he was his Secret Santa.
Tien had left his own personal book on a desk--one Yamcha had seen him with before, Wolf at the Door of His Heart. He counted himself lucky that Tien hadn't taken it with him on his break and snatched it up to stick his homemade bookmark inside.
He paused, curiosity making his fingers itch. Tien always refused to tell him what Wolf at the Door was about when Yamcha asked. Now would be a good time to find out. Flipping the book over, Yamcha scanned the summary on the back.
And then scanned it again.
After reading it a third time, his cheeks flushed as he realised that yes, Tien was carting a gay werewolf romance novel around the library. An explicit gay werewolf romance novel, if the synopsis was anything to go by. He quickly dropped it back on the desk and scuttled back to his desk, mortified. He felt like he'd been caught doing something wrong, which was ridiculous--it wasn't like it was his gay werewolf porn that he'd just left out for anyone to see. God, Kita would have a field day if he found out Tien brought gay werewolf porn to work. And Yamcha couldn't say anything about it to him without giving away that he was snooping.
On the other hand, it was an indication that Tien probably liked men, at any rate. But other than that, it was the absolute worst thing that had happened to Yamcha all week.
"Are you avoiding me?"
Yamcha flinched and looked up from his work at Tien's voice. He was leaning over the desk, staring down at Yamcha with his blank customer service face. Yamcha swallowed. He hated when Tien gave him that look. It always meant he was hiding something from him, and he didn't like it when Tien kept secrets. "No," he lied. It wasn't a total lie; he hadn't been avoiding Tien initially. It had just worked out that he'd go give Tien his Secret Santa gifts during their shared break, because he knew Tien wouldn't be in the office at that time. Sure, the first day had meant he'd missed his whole break because of Kita and his damn puns, but it had been a small sacrifice.
The next two days, on the other hand...yeah, he'd definitely avoided Tien.
He just wasn't sure he could talk to him without thinking about Wolf at the Door of His Heart. He wanted to ask him about it--tease him, poke some gentle fun, ask if he liked men...like that. But he couldn't do that without revealing he was Tien's Secret Santa and probably making a giant fool of himself, and he was afraid that if he talked to him at all he'd make an idiot out of himself anyway.
"You've missed three of our breaks in a row." Tien eyed the door to the Information Services office. "Higashi's not making you change your breaks, is she?"
"No, it's nothing like that," Yamcha reassured him. "Stuff's just come up. I've been really busy lately and I keep taking my breaks at weird times." It sounded plausible enough. Hopefully Kita and Chiaotzu hadn't told Tien about how much time Yamcha was spending in Circulation when Tien wasn't there or it'd never work.
Thankfully, Tien nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. You...promise you're not avoiding me?"
His voice sounded so small. Yamcha swallowed and stamped down his impulse to reach out for physical comfort. "I promise." It would only be another two days, anyway.
There were flowers at the Information Services computer with Yamcha's name on them when Yamcha got to work on Thursday morning. Higashi was clearly a little jealous, and Yamcha kept them close all day. They were huge and orange and gaudy and he loved them. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had bought him flowers. He'd have to thank his Secret Santa for them in particular--the free coffee on his breaks were nice and all, but flowers were something you really had to go out of your way to get, especially in December.
He still had his own thing to do for Tien, though, so he snuck down to Circulation as quickly as he could and hid a small bottle of the balsamic salad dressing Tien liked next to one of the computers. Taking the stairs two at a time, he was able to actually make it to the staff room a whole ten minutes before the end of his break.
Tien raised an eyebrow at him. "You okay?"
Yamcha held up a finger, doubled over and wheezing. "I just spent half the morning running up and down the stairs doing errands for Higashi." Another lie, but at least a plausible one--Yamcha felt more like a gofer than actual clerical staff some days.
Tien laughed and Yamcha felt a lightness in his chest. God, Tien was so cute. "At least you actually got here today, though, right?"
Yamcha wrung his hands and smiled, willing himself not to blush. "I'm glad I did," he said quietly.
Tien blinked, then smiled back, cheeks just a little pink. "Me too."
And Yamcha resolved then and there that he'd tell Tien he liked him at the staff party tomorrow.
Yamcha clutched his gift in his sweaty hands and shuffled in the snow on the porch. It had snowed the night before, covering the world in a thin white blanket--not much, just enough to say it had snowed. Bulma had "graciously" volunteered to host the staff holiday party at her parents' place, a huge estate in the rich part of West City. She said her parents wouldn't mind, and Yamcha had met them several times and knew that they wouldn't, but he still felt weird just walking into the house now that he wasn't dating their daughter. So he waited on the porch after ringing the doorbell, hoping someone other than Bulma would answer the door. He didn't think he could deal with her right now.
And okay, maybe he was also trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation with Tien. Ever since he'd decided he was going to finally ask Tien out, he'd been a huge mess of nerves. He hadn't been this nervous since he and Bulma first started dating. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly happy to revisit. But he was determined. He was going to do it.
The door opened and despite his hopes it was Bulma on the other side. She grimaced at him, but let him in anyway. He grimaced right back and kicked his boots into their usual spot on the mud room's boot tray. He'd almost said he wouldn't come to the staff party when he found out Bulma would be hosting, but Tien had said he'd go if Yamcha and Chiaotzu did, so here he was.
Bulma propped her hands on her hips and sighed. "Well, you know where everything is. Ask Mom if you need anything." She ushered him into the main living room before disappearing again, probably to do some kind of hostess thing.
Yamcha stood awkwardly in the middle of the room for a moment, taking stock of the party so far. He'd actually arrived a little early, wanting to get there before Tien, but thankfully wasn't the first one there. Lapis, Lazuli, and Lazurite, three new hires in IT and Maintenance, were taking up the entire couch. Lapis had a plate full of tiny appetizers already, and Yamcha's stomach growled. He would kill for Bulma's mother's mini quiches right now.
Lazurite nodded at him from the middle of the couch. Yamcha nodded back, trying not to look too uncomfortable. There was something weirdly unsettling about Lazurite, despite the fact that he was one of the nicest people Yamcha had ever met. It was probably just how stoic and stony his face was.
"Hey," Lapis said, leaning back against the arm of the couch, his feet in Lazurite's lap. "What's up, nerd?"
Yamcha wasn't too sure how to take that, so he just nodded. "Uh, fine. You?" He had no idea how to talk to Lapis. He never called IT and didn't know anything about him or Lazuli other than the fact that they were twins, but that was pretty obvious to anyone who so much as looked at them.
"Livin' the dream," Lapis grinned. He waved a sausage roll at Yamcha. "Fuck dinner, can I just have a plate of these?"
Yamcha laughed. "Mrs. Briefs's cooking is pretty much the best."
Lazuli abruptly stood up and moved to an armchair. "Aw, c'mon back," Lapis whined.
"Screw you. I'm not dealing with your stinky feet in my face anymore."
Lapis pouted. "My feet aren't stinky." He looked pleadingly up at Lazurite. "Laz, tell her my feet aren't stinky."
Lazurite shook his head. "I cannot do that. Your feet are the worst."
Yamcha filled a plate and awkwardly took up a place at the wall. Normally he was a very social person, but these three seemed like they had a pretty tight-knit group. He didn't really have anything to add to the conversation.
He knew he shouldn't have agreed to any of this--the staff party, the Secret Santa, none of it. Now he was standing in his ex-girlfriend's living room with a bunch of people he didn't know, waiting nervously to tell his Secret Santa that he had a crush on him. This was definitely a top contender for one of the worst days of Yamcha's life.
"Mind if I join you?"
Yamcha jumped. He hadn't even heard Tien come in, let alone walk right up to him and lean against the wall next to him. "Y-yeah, no problem." He hoped he wasn't blushing too badly. This was awful. "You should grab some appetizers before Lapis eats them all."
Tien shrugged. "Not hungry. Hey, by the way, I have to tell you about this guy who came to Circ today."
They slipped into easy conversation after that, and Yamcha let himself be lulled into security. It was just like it had been for months now--Tien was easy to talk to, there was nothing weird or wrong happening at all. Nothing except his heart hammering in his chest, a growing part of himself begging for him to blurt it out and get it over with already. Other than that, everything was fine.
"Okay!" Yamcha looked over at Bulma as she addressed the crowd. "If anyone's got a Secret Santa gift to give, now's the time!"
Yamcha took a breath and turned back to Tien, but he was gone, across the room talking to Vegeta. He shuddered. That had probably been hell for Tien--having to do nice stuff for Vegeta for a whole week. Yamcha wasn't sure what had happened there, but he knew Tien absolutely despised Vegeta.
Sure enough, he basically said a few words, shoved a gift bag at Vegeta, and immediately came back over to Yamcha. Yamcha raised an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. "So how did that go?" he asked innocently.
Tien grimaced. "At least he wasn't actually my Secret Santa. If I'd had to do nice things for Vegeta all week I might've thrown up."
Yamcha blinked. "Then why--"
"Chiaotzu had him," Tien explained. "But he got sick this morning, so I said I'd give Vegeta his last present and collect his gift from whoever had him." He handed a small, badly wrapped box to Yamcha. "You're my Secret Santa this year."
Yamcha tore open the gift, laughing when it turned out to be a box of his favourite microwave popcorn. "So...you're the one who gave me those flowers?"
"Oh geez." Tien buried his face in his hands. "I thought about giving you those today but I didn't want anyone to see me doing it or I would've died from embarrassment."
Yamcha's chest fluttered. A guy as big and bulky as Tien had no right being so adorable. "Well, I loved them. Thank you."
Tien peeked up at him, face red. "No problem. I'm glad."
Yamcha rubbed his thumb over a loose flap in his wrapping paper. It was now or never. "Tien, can I tell you something?"
He stood up straight, looking quizzically at Yamcha. "Sure."
This was it. Yamcha was going to tell Tien he liked him, and damn the consequences. He opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, and tried again, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.
"Well, merry Christmas," he blurted, holding out his gift.
Tien's eyes widened. "You...you're mine?"
Always, Yamcha wanted to say, but he just couldn't. "Y-yeah. I hope it's okay."
Tien gingerly took the gift, staring at it in awe like no one had ever given him anything before. "Wow. Thanks." He looked back up at Yamcha. "Can I open it now?"
Yamcha waved him off. "Knock yourself out."
Tien carefully unwrapped it, immediately turning red and hugging the unwrapped book to his chest. "B-but--oh God you know," he stammered.
Grinning weakly, Yamcha shoved his hands in his pockets. "I found the author of Wolf at the Door of His Heart. This is his latest book."
"But--you saw what kind of book Wolf at the Door is, right?" Tien asked cautiously. "I mean, you stuck a bookmark in it, so--"
"Yeah, I saw." Yamcha rubbed his nose. "Little weird to be bringing that kinda thing to work, don't you think?"
Tien looked mortified. "Don't tell Kita."
"Then stop leaving it around," Yamcha teased. "But, uh, the new one? Is it okay? I didn't really look at it."
Tien nodded quickly, looking fondly at the book. "I've been looking forward to this book for months." He frowned. "Now I feel like my popcorn is inadequate."
"Aw, don't feel bad." Yamcha preened. "I'm just the king of gifts."
Tien laughed, and the weight that settled in Yamcha's chest when he realised he couldn't tell Tien his feelings lifted a little. Even if he couldn't tell Tien how he felt, at least he had this.
#dbz#dragon ball z#tien#yamcha#tiencha#writing#fanfiction#library!au#west city pl#12 days of tiencha
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
KLAINE ADVENT 2017: LoveSick (11/24)
Summary: Kurt has SCID and can’t leave his house. Ever. Luckily, Blaine moves in next door.
A/N: A fic?!?!?! Yes, my dears, after what feels like an eternity, I finally wrote a new thing. I was going to do just one prompt for @klaineadventbut - ha ha ha, and ho ho ho - never mind, I’m writing an entire story. And I’m late. Sorry about that!
The plot is loosely based on “Everything Everything”. Saw it on the plane, didn’t end up liking it all that much but I loooved the premise for Klaine, so here it is. :D It’s not all that realistic, sorry about that, but I tried to make it as accurate as possible!
Beta: @a-simple-rainbow (who’s surprised? not us - we’re basically fandom wives)
Read: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24
Read on: AO3 (to be added later)
KEY
“Dad, stop fussing and leave for work.” Kurt sighs. “I’ll be fine, like all other 364 days of the year.”
“Kurt.” His dad’s face changes from worried to stern.
Kurt briefly indulges his dad and stares back. “Dad.”
“Take a moment for yourself today, okay?” Burt asks. “That’s all I ask.” He smiles at Kurt. “And now I’m going. I love you, bud.”
Kurt returns the smile. “Love you too, dad. And take a moment for yourself as well.”
“Always do. By the way, that shirt you designed looks great on you.”
Kurt fumbles with the dark green material. He’s really proud of it – especially the v-neck that none of his other, more medical-looking shirts have.
“Thanks, dad,” he says.
“You should make me one.”
“Way to spoil my Christmas surprise.” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Would you leave already?”
“Jeez, bossy. You’re so much like your grandma sometimes. I feel like I’m a kid again, being told off for stealing her cookies.”
“Dad, you’re going to be late.”
“Alright, alright.” Burt holds up his hands in apology. “I’m going.”
With that, his dad leaves the kitchen. Kurt follows him to the foyer, a series of rooms separated from the rest of the house – from Kurt, to be precise – by glass doors, where Burt leaves most of his outside belongings and puts on his streetwear over the decontaminated clothes.
He watches his dad get into the car and pull out of the driveway. As soon as there is no chance for him to see Kurt anymore, Kurt sprints up to his room and waves to Blaine.
“Go time!” he adds, smiling widely. Blaine sends a beam his way that makes Kurt’s spine tingle.
The night before, when Kurt was getting ready for bed, Blaine asked whether they could talk. For a moment, Kurt thought he was going to tell him some sort of bed news, but then Blaine spent about five minutes stumbling his way through asking Kurt whether he would like to ‘meet’ him sometime. He wasn’t even finished actually asking when Kurt said, “Tomorrow, 8.15 in the morning, by the living room.”
Never having been more excited that his dad works Saturdays, Kurt wills away his nerves as he goes down to the living room and heads straight toward the window that faces the backyard. Blaine shows up a minute later, clad in a dark blue coat, a scarf and a beanie hat that makes him look more hipster than he usually looks with his bowties and cardigans. His face is a bit flushed, like he ran downstairs and crossed both of their yards to get to Kurt. Maybe he did. The thought makes Kurt smile grow even more.
“Hi, Blaine,” he says when Blaine’s finally in front of him, only the glass and a few steps between them.
“Hi, Kurt.” Blaine looks Kurt up and down in wonder. “You’re… wow, you’re taller than me.”
Kurt suppresses a grin. “Sorry?” he tries.
Blaine laughs. “I like it.” Kurt can only make out the words through the glass if he’s very quiet but it helps having Blaine so near that he can read his lips as well. They’re getting better at that. Two months of window conversations are paying off.
“You do?” he asks happily. “And you… you look cozy.”
“It’s actually not as cold outside as I thought. I feel a bit hot,” Blaine admits.
Kurt’s not going to tell him to lose some layers, obviously, but he can’t help but remark, “Good thing you’re not actually stepping inside, then.”
“I want to, though,” Blaine says. “Sometime else.”
“It’s a date,” Kurt breathes out, nervously noting that he just called it a date. They never specified what… this… was. But Blaine was fumbling so badly on the phone, it just-
“Another one,” Blaine confirms with a smile. Kurt swears he feels his heart jump a little. “Even if it’s a bit weird to go on a date at 8.15 in the morning.”
“8.20,” Kurt corrects, just to have something to say, given that all his nerves are screaming, You’re on a date! “My dad just wouldn’t leave.”
“Does he have a sixth sense for sons who schedule secret get-aways to the living room?” Blaine asks, grinning brightly.
“No, he’s just-” Kurt wants to make an offhand comment, explain the day away like it’s nothing, but he can’t. It’s Blaine, for one, and it’s also his mother. “My mom died on this day nine years ago.”
Blaine’s eyes widen. “Oh, Kurt… I had no idea. I mean.” Blaine gulps. “Of course I didn’t. But- I’m sorry, Kurt. If you need to be alone…”
“No,” Kurt says firmly, fighting against the pressure behind his eyes. “I miss her, of course, and I usually cry my eyes out on this day, but I told you to come over so I wouldn’t be alone. At least for like two hours before Carole comes over.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry we’re on a schedule.”
“Don’t be silly,” Blaine says. “It’s nice to… well.” Kurt watches as he attempts a formal bow. “Nice to meet you. You know, officially. Kind of.”
Kurt laughs, eyes watering. “Likewise. My mom would have totally gone for your sense of humor, you know?”
“Awkward but weirdly adorable?” Blaine tilts his head and gives him puppy-dog eyes, driving the point home.
Kurt bites his lip, fails to hold in a grin, and says, “Something along those lines, yeah.”
“Is that her?” Blaine asks, pointing behind Kurt. Kurt follows the line of his finger to the urn on the fireplace.
He turns back around and nods. “Mom, meet Blaine. Blaine, meet mom.”
“Hi, Mrs. Hummel,” Blaine says at once. “This is weird.”
“It is,” Kurt agrees. “And she would like you to call her Elizabeth, I’m sure.”
“I’ll reconsider after our third date or so,” Blaine replies.
“Smooth.” Kurt laughs. “Planning the third date while still on the first. You’re very thorough. Do you have cue cards as well?”
“Uhm, no. For some weird reason I was convinced we could manage to hold a conversation,” Blaine says, pretending to frown. Kurt thinks back to their long talks at the window, on the phone or texting, how Blaine probably knows more about Kurt than Rachel at this point.
“You’re definitely right.”
“Well, I want to hear all about Rachel’s newest plans for your future Broadway Bubble Babies career.”
“Oh god, you won’t believe how detailed her thoughts on this are. We’re both taking online singing classes already but now she wants to enter this career prospects mentoring program and see if they can get us mentors over Skype. And she wants us to co-produce a YouTube version of The Last Five Years, since it’s a musical for two.”
“Uhm, I need to meet her already!” Blaine gushes. Kurt loves how much he loves Rachel from Kurt’s stories alone. “That sounds like the greatest idea ever!”
The two hours pass in a flash. Kurt basks in Blaine’s focused and passionate attention, listens to Blaine talk animatedly about the New Directions’ madness during competition season and they make plans for a Skype session with both of their best friends so that Blaine can meet Rachel and Wes, Blaine’s best friend at Dalton, can meet Kurt.
Blaine’s in the middle of telling Kurt about his family’s Christmas plans when Kurt hears the key to the front door turn in the lock, and then the unmistakable sliding sound of the front door opening.
“Sorry for interrupting,” he says with a sad smile. “But it’s Carole. It’ll take her about five minutes to actually get in and change and all that, but you should probably get going.”
Blaine’s sad face matches his.
“It’s not that I don’t want my family to know about you,” he tries to reassure Blaine. “But today, I kind of wanted to take this moment for myself.”
Blaine waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. I know it’s easier this way. You don’t have to tell them at all if you don’t want.”
Kurt smiles knowingly at Blaine’s quick agreement. “You’re scared of my dad, aren’t you?”
“Terrified.”
Kurt’s cheeks are hurting from smiling so much. “You don’t have to be,” he promises. “Well, I guess this is goodbye for now.”
“Goodbye for now,” Blaine echoes. He pulls off his left glove and lets the hand come to rest on the window. “This was nice, I had fun.”
Kurt’s right hand shakes slightly as he lays it on the glass to mirror Blaine’s. If he pretends hard enough, it’ll feel like they’re touching.
“I had fun, too,” he whispers, locking eyes with Blaine. “You’re fun.”
Blaine’s face is so close to the window now Kurt feels like he could count all his eyelashes (an ambitious endeavor), name a new color after Blaine’s eyes (smouldering honey gold) and remember the shape of Blaine’s lips well enough to draw a picture of them later (to have something to kiss at least).
“Kurt…” Blaine blinks at him, visibly intrigued by Kurt’s intense stare.
Kurt breaks out of his little fantasy world with a big sigh.
“To be continued,” he says firmly.
“I know.” Blaine huffs out a laugh. “But I really don’t want to go right now.”
“I’ll text you as soon as I’m upstairs.” Kurt rolls his eyes when Blaine stays rooted to the spot. For the second time today, if a bit more reluctantly this time, he says, “Would you leave already?”
He watches as Blaine retreats to his house, fumbling with the key to his front door before pulling it wide open and slipping inside.
It feels like the perfect metaphor for what he’s doing with Kurt’s heart.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
14 Pieces of Actual, No-Silly Wedding Planning Advice
There's a lot of wedding advice floating around the Internet. Problem is, a lot of it is useless fluff dreamed up by a) relatively well-heeled editors contractually obligated to spend their days inventing absurd nonsense to fill pages surrounded by advertisements b) people who've never planned a wedding/mistakenly think their very specific experience can be extrapolated. Or both!
Sure, those mason jars wrapped in polka-dotted ribbon are a cute idea on Pinterest, but it's a good way to wind up sobbing in the middle of your local Michael's two weeks before the big day. And all that money-saving advice? Yeah, the buffet's going to save you, but not as much as you may think.
Maybe you're planning to tie the knot at a 50-person backyard barbecue. Or maybe you're hosting 350 friends, family and business associates to some Gilded Age castle. Whatever. Here are a few pieces of real-talk wedding advice that you can actually use.
1. Maybe pay someone to do that. Are you supremely artistic and experienced in the ways of crafting? Is your great aunt Martha Stewart? Unless the answer to one of these questions is yes, think very carefully about any D.I.Y. projects. Examine your own abilities with a critical eye. For instance, I once tried to complete a "Cosmos manicure" and ended up looking like I'd let a four-year-old paint my nails. Face the music: Despite what Pinterest would have you believe, some of us are just not talented at some things. And your wedding is probably not the time to learn that lesson. It'll only be more expensive when you have to replace everything at the last minute.
2. Not everyone gets a date, and that's fine. Look, lots of us wanted everyone we've ever known and loved at the ceremony. But that's just not feasible unless your daddy is a robber baron. You'll want to invite as many significant others as possible, of course, and if someone is flying from Shanghai to Cleveland for your reception, you'd better allow them a date. But at some point, it's time to hitch the caboose to the gravy train, and once you do, stick 100 percent to your guns. Consider preparing an email in advance for anyone who truly does not understand that money doesn't grow on trees.
3. You are not the Lone Ranger. Perhaps you want to be the Stanley Kubrick of weddings, strictly controlling every single aspect of the entire production. But that way lies The Shining, my friend. When someone graciously offers to help, come up with some very specific detail they're well-equipped to handle. (If you've got it covered or this person is an absolute incompetent, politely decline, but I urge you to consider the offer, even if it's as simple as logging RSVPs.)
Also, on a more specific note, unless you're wearing that $100 H&M dress, seriously consider having more than one bridesmaid. If I'd known how much work getting my wedding garments and dress on was going to be, I'd have a bridal party of eight or nine really strapping gals.
4. Write thank-you notes as gifts come in. Do not get behind, unless you want to spend your honeymoon crafting odes to the lovely Waterford from Aunt Mildred.
5. Be ready to show some backbone. I'm willing to bet that most readers of this blog are very, very committed to not being a power-drunk nightmare-person Bridezilla during their planning process—and that's great! Never, ever be nasty. But know that it's perfectly okay to say no, no thanks, not gonna to happen when your florist tries to talk you into expensive hot-pink table overlays. (You'll also need to be prepared to wield that NOPE like a broadsword if you've laid down a law like no kids or no cellphones, by the way.) Let's practice together! SORRY NO!!!!!
And once you put down a deposit on something, don't feel guilty about making sure that vendor gets her job done. If you're paying for a wedding planner, don't let her drop the ball. If your sample floral arrangements are the wrong color, speak up.
Now, a corollary: Pick your battles and save your emotional energy for the big stuff. Maybe you hate your cousin's formal kilt, or your bridesmaid's spray tan, or the best man's habit of wearing lime-green socks with dress shoes. For God's sake, just let it ride. Save your fury in case the limo never shows.
6. All you need is Google Docs. I've got a binder, a website, several notebooks and pieces of wedding-related paper lying all over my house. But the only tool I really needed to get through this without rending my garments and running screaming into the night was Google Docs. Sure, maybe your dad still hasn't gotten the hang of the Internet. But that's what the export to PDF function is for!
7. If you must give favors, give food. Don't give your guests something they're just going to throw away. No one in the history of party planning has ever gone wrong with a light snack. Definitely do not D.I.Y. anything. (See above.)
8. Limit your options. Planning my wedding I couldn't have any old thing that flitted into my brain, because I am a graphic designer and paid for my own wedding.
A lot of things were simply out of budget. But honestly? THANK GOD. There are too damn many options out there, and limitations are your friend. The name of the game in wedding planning is eliminating as many possibilities as fast as possible. If you're pretty sure you don't want to get married in a barn, put your blinders on and stop looking at barns.
And for the love of God, do not let yourself get bogged down in any single decision. I spent weeks scouring New York City for wedding shoes and a hair comb. My mistake was ever considering more than five options in the first place.
9. Ask (politely!) for discounts. Hey, it can't hurt.
10. Treat thy bridesmaids as thou would like to be treated. I'm not talking no diet commands and no haircut lectures. That's table stakes. I mean don't pick a bridesmaid dress that would look good on you but not them. There are more body types than stars in the sky; maybe give them a choice of five dresses and let each pick her fave. It's not the end of the world if they don't match. Don't ask them to spend a fortune on something they'll never wear again, and give them some sort of thank you at the end.
11. Stop trying to be so damn unique. Look, weddings are not original. They are a template, a form letter drawn up hundreds of years before we were born. No matter how much money you throw at the planning process, your wedding is not going to be one of a kind. You don't need a special, hand-crafted symbol of your cosmic love on every escort card. Chill.
12. There is no perfect dress. You're probably not a paragon, and you're not marrying one, either. We live in the world of reality, not Platonic ideals. So do yourself a favor and pick a gown that's beautiful and within budget. Don't let the dress shopping drag on until the entire experience curdles.
13. Ask yourself: Who actually cares? Agonizing over whether to have a champagne toast, or pay for chiavari chairs, or (god forbid) shell out for peonies? Here's a question you should seriously ask yourself: Are my guests really going to care? Because this is technically a celebration of you, but REALLY it's an enormous party that you're throwing for your friends and family. This is not your fifth birthday party at McDonalds. You are hosting these people that you love. Every decision should come down to whether the guests like it, appreciate it, or notice it at all.
Remind yourself (as others have reminded me) that people care about the dancing, the food and whether a good time was had by all. They don't care about how much painstaking effort you put into the hand-aged programs and the very firm email you wrote to get the perfect amount of greenery in the centerpieces. You're better off focusing on the broad strokes that best facilitate the party than bothering overmuch with small details.
14. Have fun. Unless you are Olivia Pope and thrive on details and chaos, it's easy to get overwhelmed. (Yes, even if your plan is simply to order 25 pizzas and surprise all your buds at a bar, you still have to write the ceremony, write up the invites, etc., etc.) But this is fun! It's a happy occasion! Go forth and drink until you can't feel your face! And remember, as long as you're married at the end of the night, it was a success.
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey there! I was thinking of starting Dexter's Lab, could you tell me anything about it? Thank you!
Welcome to the Laboratory!
First, I should mention the basic stuff. Dexter’s Laboratory is a show on Cartoon Network made by Gennedy Tartakovsky about a boy named Dexter who loves science and has a sister thats opposite of him but just as passionate about her own interests and loves her brother very much. Its one of the first pilots that got picked up during the “what a cartoon” show that showcased original programming pilots the public would vote on.
It has four seasons and a tv movie, though two of those seasons are after the tv movie due to Gennedy tying it off after the movie and then CN picked it up for two extra seasons and put a whole new crew under Chris Savino in charge. This caused it to change to flash, hence the uncanny valley of designs and Dexter’s original VA, Christine Cavanaugh retired halfway through season 3, causing Candi Milo to be casted in replacement.
The rest here is gonna be under the cut since I have ALOT to say about this.
Obviously start at the first season, first episode and if anything seems not to your liking you don’t have to keep watching. IMO the first season is pretty weak with only 13 episodes and even then thats broken u into 3 seven minute segments or two eleven minute ones. Some noteworthy season 1 eps are “maternal combat” and a justice friends short involving val hallen losing his mighty axe.
speaking of justice friends, they are a segment parody of heros, often the avengers and marvel type though the joker does show up in an episode as a mail man saying he’ll mail the president a giant bomb before Major glory stops him. Major glory is the leader and much akin to 1950s america so expect a slightly dated idea system. Val hallen is a viking god of rock who is just awesom and Krunk is.... just really innocent. hes no genius. they basically have mostly domestic adventures of not being able to do a simple task or become scared of a bee. Major glory is also allergic to white tiger, a black panther parody who is most likely an actual cat man or sorts. there are other minor justice friends but we mostly see krunk, MG and val hallen. the rest are used in bigger fights like “last but not beast” the season 2 finale.
theres another segment called “dial M for monkey” where dexters pet monkey is actually a hero and befriends alien wrestler voiced by RANDY SAVAGE. his friend is agent honeydew and shes the smartest sweetest woman. shes beauty shes grace but she’ll kick you in the face.
as for the show itself, seasons 1 and 2 focus alot on just happenings with science and dee dee being silly. though there are good bonding moments and alot of the comedy is either wordplay or slapstick akin to tom and jerry. theres even a parody of tom and jerry where dexter switches brains with a mouse and his mother finds him as said mouse which leads to a chase of cat and mouse. its one of the notable season 2 episodes. Expect alot of refernces to either outside pop culture at the time, or stuff within cartoon network of the time(such as a box of dog treats with scooby’s face!)
the tv movie is just a book end to see how dexter will grow up with some dystopian future and imo the best showing of action and comedy gennedy has skill-wise next to “last but not beast”. it also has a very shocking and questionable scene that wouldn’t fly by today’s standards.
seasons 3 and 4 were headed by chris savino and honestly not awful. Everyone quotes them as seasonal rot for the show but i disagree. they arent the same quality and the flash is a weird transition but outside of a few bad episodes they crew really did try to keep to dexter. this season also introduces a bit of contradicting canon such as mandark’s backstory and parents when the first season only had him as a rival that happened to love dee dee. this is where people get the theory he’s trans as well. dexters birthday is said to be in march but season 2 “a hard day’s day” says hes a capricorn, meaning his birthday is somewhere in dec-jan. dont think too much on these since its not that important in the long run, especially with his leprechaun uncle. Just be wary of “sore eyes”, that episode had a person from ren and stimpy on board which lead to comedy that does not fit with Dexter’s Lab sense of humor or design.
A few notes also:
1. dont always trust the wikia for things because it is not 100% true. Dexter’s family’s last name has never been said in the show and “Mcpherson” was most likely made up or correlated to the MMO game “fusionfall”
2. dont take everything so seriously. this show is quite dated for 1996(and 2001-2003) for society’s standards at the time. It hasn’t aged too well.
3. Dexter’s accent is based off gennedy’s own experiences as a kid when his family immigrated to america and he learned from reading comics how english worked, and it fueled his love for comics. though he still had an accent at the time.
4. yes theres a ppg reference in “star check convention of three miscolored ppg dolls at the doll convention and a dexter reference in “ploys r us” of the ppg where the professor steals a dexter and dee dee doll.
5. craig and gennedy say their worlds arent connected but believe they’re connected all you want! bc i do.
6. the blossom x dexter ship most likely started due to bleedman’s PPGD comic. read it if you want some anime styled cartoon crossover.
7. Have fun! I honestly hope you enjoy the series and you can ask me any questions if you have them. you can ask any of the few people of the fandom as well including @pumpkinbeta or @flukesandspooks!
I hope this cleared up alot or gave at least a good basic amount of information to interest you.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Week 3: Surviving Kindergarten
Wow. Another week is done. It’s honestly crazy to me. This weekend was probably the first few moments I’ve experienced that I’m actually in Maryland. I’m actually at camp. I’m actually here for two more months.
Seriously. Whoa.
So, not gonna lie, this week was hard for me. I had a tired day where I could just feel the grumpiness at the surface level, I lost my voice AGAIN (twice in two weeks), and I’ve had a couple lonely days too.
But guys, before I recap, I just want to say that God is SO GOOD. This entire week has been reminder after reminder about the character of God. And He has been reminding me that He has definitely planned for me to be where I am needed for His purpose.
It seems like just when you get into the swing of things, camp changes. On Monday morning my HC told me that I was going to be a sub in Discovery all week for kindergarten. Mind you, the first day of camp with kindergarten was not at all my cup of tea and this week kind of wasn’t either, but I’ll get there. Let me just say that I am not a spiritual leader for 5 year olds. I have trouble breaking it down for them instead of going into great detail. I also just struggle with this age because you have to repeatedly remind them of the good behaviors you just taught them yesterday. Herding kids around camp can feel insane sometimes.
But here’s where God met me with a gift on Monday.
I finished my morning debrief with Discovery and headed up to skit team where I honestly set my stuff down, went into the bathroom, and let myself just cry a little bit. I was overwhelmed and I felt helpless. More than that, I once again felt a little torn in two. Just when I feel like I’m starting to belong to a program here at Sonshine I’m needed somewhere else. It’s hard to build friendships that way, but like one of my housemates Savannah has told me this weekend, “I think God is challenging you and I to become more independent this summer.”
After I allowed myself to briefly cry out that frustration that was sitting in my chest, I washed my hands because all these bathrooms are full of little kid germs (and kids are gross, guys). While doing that who could walk into the hallway to 201 but MERCY. She said hi and I made sure to look at her for only two seconds so that she might not see what my post-crying face looked like. She did though and immediately showed me that she and I have a spiritual gift in common - which so happens to be her name. Mercy, if you read this and try to tell me that you don’t have the spiritual gift of mercy then you’re a darn liar. (:
Honestly she was such a support. Just knowing she was in my corner was what I needed most. Someone in my corner who I could actively call to help or who could offer help when my headstrong self tells me I can do it on my own. Bless you, Mercy. You seriously made my week.
SO THESE KIDS.
God knew what kind of kids of this age I would be able to feed into. He gave me a sweet group with minimal rough behavior issues like fighting and cut downs. Praise. That was a big help.
Secondly, the spiritual theme for this week was something I feel like is simple enough for me to explain to kids because it’s plain visible. God Made Me Special. We’re all so different! How cool.
There were multiple group times this week where I was able to use this trick that I saw Diane from Cornerstone use the one time she taught in 5.6 (and she did it so well). It’s just the use of repetition! Kids are always down to repeat something after you if you tell them to. Now repeat after me, Unique. Then they all respond “Unique.” So easy. And now that word is stuck with that. Magic.
While I could talk endlessly about these 7 different campers and how unique and awesome each one of them are, I am just going to highlight a few moments this week.
For my one camper who is a bus kid I’m going to call her Sandy, since I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t use their real names. Sandy is a wonderful listener and so, so considerate. She likes to laugh but you kind of have to prompt it out of her. One of my favorite moments this week was having this other counselor Aaron hang out with us a couple times and for us to talk about how awesome Sandy is. She seriously captured this guys heart and Sandy thinks he is so cool. And it was nice to see that although Sandy wasn’t opening up to me that she was still getting to open up to someone out there.
This little sweet blonde boy I’m going to call Derek. Derek is seriously one of the kindest, loveliest kids I’ve ever met. He loves to draw, he’s very sensitive to other’s emotions, and he is incredibly thoughtful. He knew that Sandy wanted a water bottle like his and I got to see him ask his mom if they could buy one for her. This was a little late in the week, but I like to think that he’ll get to give Sandy that water bottle before the summer is up (these kids don’t always come every week). That was one sweet moment I had to mention but my favorite moment was during our latestay on Thursday.
Latestays are basically where the kids can sign up to stay until 8pm instead of the usual 3:30pm. It’s pretty fun. It’s always about the theme (which was carnival this week) and not all the kids sign up so you have a smaller group and it’s chill. But while we were eating dinner with a second grade boys group one of the second grade boys left after eating to go play with some sticks and use them like he was playing the drums on this log. Derek got all concerned and asked me if sticks were part of nature. I told him yes and he proceeded to tell me that this kid was destroying nature. My heart. It was such an innocent moment I’ve thought about it like 29539 times since then.
The last kid I want to talk about is this little talkative red-head who I’ll call Montana. She instantly became my friend. The first day she talked so much to me and every day since then has been a non-stop talkative train that you have to raise your voice a bit to get her to pump the brakes. She loved laughing at me being silly. She thought it was hilarious that I would say, “Sit your butt down.” Because of the word “butt” obviously. She had this way of saying, “What the heck” that I’m honestly going to be saying it that way for a long time. My moments with her are a series of moments because every day, at least two or three times she’d say, “I love you!” or “You’re the best.” Seriously, she was a treat. She was pretty sad that I won’t be her counselor anymore.
But guys, kindergarten isn’t all rainbows at sunshine. I had a couple criers who would try to use their tears as an advantage in moments where they would get in trouble or where they didn’t have money for the camp store or the ice cream shack as though I had the money to get something for them. I had one kid who liked to argue with me. I had another who got sick later in the week and went home early. We had a group time out late in the week. I had one who consistently needed reminding to keep his hands and feet to himself.
He’s actually the last one I wanted to mention. Let’s call him Storm. Storm is a sweet boy with a huge smile and dimples and loves to tell you his opinion and wears some cool blue hearing aids. He’s a handful but he’s great. You have to tell him multiple times to do something, but he’ll do it. Storm had a big problem where he would get too excited while playing and accidentally hit someone or throw sand that would hit someone. I had a talk with him at the ball pit about good choices vs bad choices. He pinky promised me that he wanted to make good choices from then on. The next day he got too excited at the sand box and I gave him a warning and told him if he did it again that we wouldn’t be playing in the sand box anymore. Not 10 minutes later he does it again. When I tell him it’s time to get out he starts getting a little panicked and keeps saying, “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to!” I told him I know he didn’t but I did already give him a warning. I asked him if he thought throwing sand was a good choice and instead of answering proceeded to plead with me by saying, “I want to make good choices! I want to make good choices!” Honestly, my heart melted because a) he listened and b) he took it to heart and c) after letting him continue to play in the sandbox I only had maybe two moments the rest of the week where I had to remind him of good choices.
So those were my snippets of this week. The rest is me being tired and losing my voice, which honestly upsets me. But the nurse said it because of allergies most likely because there are such different plants here. I bought some dayquil and I brought allergy pills with me and my voice is back and I’m hoping for it to stay that way.
ReFuel, our Wednesday night staff worship, was amazing. I don’t always get really inclined to say Amen or Hallelujah during sermons but I did feel it a few times this week. It was cleansing and the music was great, I just couldn’t sing well.
SIDEBAR: I almost went the whole way without a sidebar - too bad! So the director of camp, Kirk, has his son on campus pretty often which is great. His son is super cute. I honestly love that kid and I’ve never even gotten to speak to him. So his kid is holding the mic that Kirk had while we’re all singing worship, figures out how to turn it on, and then in a quiet moment of the song all you hear is this kid babble-singing into the mic. I think I literally died. It was the cutest/funniest/best moment of my whole week. LOVE THAT KID.
This weekend has been good too. Went to Baltimore and I honestly didn’t do much. I had some Chick Fil A and then went to a Barnes and Noble with Preston and we sat by the plays and read some books that we picked out. It was relaxing.
Church this morning was good too. It tied together all the reminders I’ve been getting of who God is as today focused on the hymn Holy, Holy, Holy. It’s a hymn that’s really focused on God and who he is. “Blessed Trinity.” Loved it. Pastor was spittin’ fire. Church was lit.
Got some lunch. Came back to the room. And I’ve been napping on and off since then.
Two more weeks to Arts Adventure. Pray for me!
1 note
·
View note
Text
Tips on Breaking Out of Your Writing Hiatus
Helllllooooo everybody ~
Happy Thursday Blogday!
Well, we’ve all been there. We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it just…did.
We stopped writing.
Life got busy. I’ve never been a fantastic multi-tasker, and back in the summer of 2016, it seemed like suddenly everything was happening at once. I was playing roller derby, and had practice 3 times a week. I was still working full-time at the hospital. And on top of it all, I was in the process of moving to a different city, soooo packing, packing, packing. As much as I didn’t want it to, writing sort of went onto the backburner, and then it slipped off completely. And I let it. I didn’t even think twice about letting it not be a priority. One week became one month, then two months, then three months, and then I stopped counting.
So, when the time came that I finally decided to pick up the pieces of my nearly finished manuscript, I was sort of at a loss of what to do. I had stopped in the middle of a chapter (ouch), and said chapter was a heavy duty one (double ouch). I had no clue what to do. I knew that I had overcome the hardest part by accepting the fact that I had screwed up, but somehow, it didn’t seem as simple as sitting down and writing again. In truth, I didn’t feel worthy to write. I almost felt like I needed to confess my sins, plead for forgiveness from my abandoned novel baby, and join a Seven Steps Program or something.
All this sound familiar?
I have done a good chunk of research, and have come up with ten useful tips on how to overcome the mountain that is known as Hiatus. Some of these may work for you, and some of them may make you cringe so hard it looks like you’re seizing. But whether all of them apply to you or not, they are still little gems to put in your writer bank!
1) So, first and foremost, allow yourself that pity party your brain is begging you to have. Eat junk food, wallow in guilt, maybe cry a little (ahem *points to self* moi), and procrastinate a bit more. Get it out of your system. And then, when you are finally ready to face the music (…manuscript?), move on. I know, I know, weird tip right? “But Scarlette, everyone else tells me to stop beating myself up immediately!” Ooook. Well, you’re going to feel guilty regardless of whether I tell you to or not. So let’s all just be real about this. You’re a human being. You feel things. You’re going to feel guilty about abandoning your baby and letting it collect dust. You’re going to want to beat yourself up about it. Use that to push yourself forward. Do it. Do ittttt. And then carry on.
2) Start slow. Maybe do some writing challenges or exercises. Do a writing prompt or two...whatever it takes to get the brain juices flowing (ugh...that sounds nasty). For me, I went back momentarily to fanfiction. Writing fanfiction was my safety blanket for a long time, and it felt nice to be on familiar ground while I more or less tried to un-rust myself. And really, much to my relief, it didn’t take long to get my groove and confidence back. One thing to keep in mind is that it's not a race; you need to figure out what works best for you to get back in the swing of things. It may take a couple writing prompts, or it might take an entire fanfiction. Go at a pace that is good for you. Your novel baby knows you are working hard. It’s not going anywhere. It’ll be there when you are ready. It’s not a race. Unless you have an epic deadline….then this is super awkward…may I refer you to my previous blog regarding motivation?
3) Do research. And by research, I mean reading. A lot of it. And I don't know about you, but sometimes when I'm reading, I'll find myself thinking, "Well fuck, I could've written this better." Yes. Hell yes. Use that. DO THAT. GET WRITING.
4) Once you are actively writing, allow yourself to get into the groove, and don’t stop. Unless you desperately need a pee break, sustenance in the form of snacks and liquids, or it’s a family emergency, don’t stop. Whether it’s for a page, or thirty minutes, or 500 words, or an entire chapter/scene, write your little cynical, introverted heart out. You’re going to force that groove out of its hiding place, the stubborn bastard.
5) Set a concrete, measurable goal. “Write.” is not gonna cut it, trust me. I’ve done it before where I’ll get home after work, look at my Honey-Do List and see WRITE in big, aggressively bold letters staring back at me. I’ll then toss the list aside, grab my video game controller, and say, “Well, technically I wrote all day. Charting on patients counts as writing, right?” No, no it doesn’t. Give yourself something to work towards, such as a word count, page number, or set a timer and tell yourself that you’ll write for the next hour without stopping.
6) Don’t edit as you go. For the love of God, don’t edit as you go. Accept the fact that you are going to be rusty, and move on. Right now, all that’s important is getting words out of your noggin and onto paper. Save the editing for later. That’s what drafts (and drafts, and drafts) are for. The minute you start analyzing what you are writing, you’re going to only focus on how awkward and rough things are sounding, and you’ll lose your gumption to push forward. Instead of thinking, “Writing, writing, writing,” you’ll be thinking, “Shitty, shitty, shitty. Oh God, make it stop.” No. Bad. Don’t do that.
7) Accept the fact that your writing style has most likely changed. It's going to be almost comical re-reading and editing my first draft of HBE, considering I started writing it in 2014 and have grown so much since then. And by comical I mean I'm going to cry. A lot. But that’s the harsh truth of going on hiatus in the middle of a project. Things are bound to change. You aren’t the same writer you once were when you first started. Maybe this change is for the better, or maybe it’s for the worst. But guess what? You won’t actually know the answer unless you START FRICKEN WRITING.
8) Maybe start somewhere you were once really excited about. Now, I don't normally recommend this...I’m a fan of writing in chronological order, but if you are stuck on a killer scene and are dreading going back to it, especially now that you are feeling a bit out of touch with your writer side, maybe start somewhere a bit lighter, easier. Maybe there’s a scene you’ve been dying to get to, and you know that you could totally make that scene your bitch. If the only reason why you haven’t already pounced all over that scene is because of a fear of breaking out of chronological order, then you’re being stubborn and silly. Come on. Try it. Give in to my suave charm and give it a shot. It could be a confidence booster! And then, when you are feeling ready, go back to that killer scene and kick its butt.
9) Build up your habit/restart your ritual. Some people throw dance parties right before they get to writing. Some people like to read right before they dive into their own work as a way to be inspired. I personally like to clean my entire house about 15 times before I finally decide to sit down and write (DO NOT RECOMMEND). What was your previous ritual? Did it work for you? If it didn’t, switch it up! Instead of waiting until nighttime to write, perhaps get to work in the morning when your mind and body are refreshed and not weighed down and jaded by the day yet. Maybe try location writing. I know, I know, the idea of getting out of the house might seem awful and panic-attack inducing, but it might help stimulate your brain juices (ugh…said it again), and inspire you. Find a quiet little coffee shop, or hunker down in the corner of a book store. Get your favorite coffee/tea/cleverly disguised alcoholic beverage (no judgement), and write until closing time. Find a ritual that works for you, and perform it until it becomes a habit. Think of it as your bedtime routine. The moment you start doing this ritual, whether it’s brushing your teeth, washing your face, or putting on your PJ’s (this doesn’t work for me, considering I wear my PJ’s all day), something triggers in your brain, telling it, “Hey, it’s time for bed! Hooray!” The same will happen with your writing routine. The minute you initiate the writing ritual, your brain is going to register what is happening and jump into Writer Mode.
10) Revamp that outline. It's going to help remind you of all the hard work you’ve already put into your manuscript, how far you’ve come, and the fun things to come. Set aside some time to laze out on the couch with a glass of wine, and read your outline from start to finish. Not gonna lie, chances are it’s going to make you cringe a little *once again, pointing to self*. You might find plot holes, or god-awful ideas that sounded so good at the time but what the hell were you thinking? Were you wondering why I mentioned an alcoholic beverage earlier? This is why. You need to sift through all the bullshit and find the reasons why you fell in love with your novel baby in the first place. Get excited all over again. Review it, revise it, love it.
Bonus Tip: When you are done writing for the day and about to pack it in, set yourself up for success. Organize and prepare for your next writing adventure so that it isn't like pulling teeth when you attempt to convert brain vomit into word vomit. Personally, I like to stop in the middle of a sentence. I might know how I want that sentence to end right then and there, but I save it for the next day. So, when I open up my manuscript and see that half-done sentence just begging to be finished, I can easily do it. BAM! First sentence done. Piece of cake. I’M ON FIRE! Now onto the next one. It's a bit of a mind game, I know, but it's also a confidence booster for me.
And that’s it! See, jumping back into that novel doesn’t seem so terrifying now, does it? And keep in mind to take these with a grain of salt; some of these will work for you, and some of them won’t. Everyone is a unique, delicate flower, and not every drop of water from the watering can is going to make its mark on you. God. Cheese please. It sounded so much better in my head.
With that said, I post new blogs every Thursday, and if there is anything you’d like me to discuss, feel free to message me on here, or tweet me @ @ScarletteStone
Until next time, my beautiful, delicate flowers:
Happy writing!
#blog#amwriting#blogger#blogday#writing blog#writing#mustwrite#writer#writers on tumblr#my writing#new writers on tumblr#new writer#newauthor#tumblrblog#girlboss#hiatus#writers of tumblr#writersofinstagram#writersofig#writersofinsta#twitter#bonustip#10 tips#editing#love writing#tough love#writing exercise#novel baby#manuscript#first draft
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell: Savor it because we won’t see Cas for over a month Recap
Then:
In which writer, Davey Perez, continues to ascend to the Fan Throne of Goodness vacated by the much missed Robbie Thompson.
Now:
On a camping excursion in the wilds of Nebraska, a young woman, Gwen, attempts to split firewood against the grain, her boyfriend, Marcus, is busy watching nature on his iPad, and the audience realizes -with or without monsters- this cute city couple is DOOMED. Before their imminent demise, they talk about her acceptance to a veterinary school out-of-state, and the ability to make a long-distance relationship work. On the premise of getting more firewood, the boyfriend wanders away to practice his proposal speech. Gwen stumbles upon the ring. And unfortunately for Marcus, a hellhound stumbles upon him! He just makes it back to camp before getting shredding to pieces. Gwen stands paralyzed but eventually gets the wherewithal to slash the invisible beast with the ax (also against the grain --the hellhound lived, even if Gwen escaped.)
RIP Marcus.
At the bunker, Sam and Dean and Lucille are just getting back from an epic hunting trip. (Fun Fact: Boris had to stop watching The Walking Dead just when Papa Winchester showed up. Too many sads.) It seems Sam keeps finding new jobs through a new computer program, aka, Frodo, aka, Mick Davies. So I see Sam hasn’t told his brother of his little allegiance yet. Dean’s ready to go, after all he has baby wipes in the car to remove any residual siren gunk, but Sam insists he shower first.
Dean acquiesces but insists he’s going to use Sam’s fancy shampoo in retaliation. (Boris is willing to hand-wave Dean’s lack of cleanliness for himself due to his overwhelming need to hunt and forget about his mom issues, but getting monster gunk in Baby? That cannot stand.)
The boys make it to the scene of Marcus’s demise, finishing phone calls as they exit Baby. Sam (talking to his mom): “Let us know.” Dean (talking to Cas): “Love you too.” Oh wait, scratch that, reverse it. Sam fills Dean in on their mom’s recent hunt with the Brits. Dean fills Sam in on more angel killings (like, doesn’t that warrant a drop-everything-and-help-Cas situation? Finding the nephilim seems WAY more time sensitive than bear attacks, but don’t mind me, I’m just a bitter Cas girl.) (Natasha: raises hand in solidarity.)
Speaking of Cas, or Agent Solange...
He’s at a diner, investigating the death of a waitress. Herb, the diner’s manager, believes she was killed by a Reptilian alien, you know, like the Queen of England. Cas is dismissive but Herb has proof and pulls out a tape! Man, this whole scene played like a goofier episode of The X-Files. It gave me happy feels. It also reminded me of Ronald Reznick and Mandroids. (And I love the silly reference to Misha Collin’s weird thing with the Queen.) In any event, they watch the video, which consists of Kelly Kline’s confrontation with angels and her rescue by Dagon, and her yellow eyes. “Like I said, reptilian,” Herb confirms. Cas takes the tape and leaves.
At the campsite, Sam and Dean hear about Gwen’s strange account of the attack. They were attacked by an invisible wolf. “Invisible dog. Sounds like a hellhound to me,” Dean concludes, and Sam agrees, as they head out to interview Gwen.
Once at Gwen’s house, the brothers disagree on how they should explain the situation. The much handsomer brother spitballs telling her the whole disturbing and unbelievable truth, but Sam says they just need to lie, a lot.
Of course, by letting in Agents Clapton and Baker, Gwen unknowingly lets in the hellhound. They tell her that a bear killed her boyfriend. She is not in danger, but Gwen doesn’t believe them, and tells them to leave. And the hellhound attacks! Sam and Dean burst in and shoot the hound, but it escapes out the window.
Crowley. Oh Crowley, what are you doing with Lucifer? You’re a smart demon, Fergus. But this seems...ill-advised. Yet he continues to hold Lucifer prisoner and taunt him. Lucifer isn’t too concerned. “I’m still gonna peel off your skin and eat your soul.” Lucifer makes it clear that they both know that the chains that hold him are just a temporary situation. “I’m already 10 steps ahead,” Crowley reassures the audience. He then meets with Demon #1 and #2. There’s a lot of Hell business to handle.
Back at Gwen’s, Sam and Dean tell her the whole disturbing and unbelievable truth --a hellhound just attacked her. Dean’s admission that they’ve tangled with hellhounds in the past is an understatement. *crying in corner over sad season 3 feels* The boys tell her that hellhounds only go after people who have sold their soul to a demon. They ask her to recall anything in her past or Marcus’s that they might have done unknowingly. Her answer is a firm “No.” The brothers call in the big guns for a conundrum like this: Crowley.
Summary: Dean calls Crowley “Peaches”, and Crowley is still pissed about the whole Gavin thing. Dean asks about the hellhounds and Demon #1 and #2 admit that Ramsey escaped. Crowley pops over to the brothers without hesitation.
Outside the diner a new angel, Kelvin, confronts Castiel. He’s looking for Kelly Kline as well and suggests that they partner up.
Back at Gwen’s house, Crowley unhelpfully introduces the hellhound as “THE Hellhound.” Sam squints inquisitively. Well, God created posies, koalas...
...and hellhounds! He wanted to make God’s best friend but ended up with a vicious beast instead. Rather than killing all the hounds, Lucifer rescued Ramsey, a pregnant hellhound. Loyal to her first master, she’s the one hound Crowley has never been able to control. As to why this wayward hound is after Gwen? Well, she did whack it with an axe. You could say that hound has an “axe to grind.” (Shows myself out.) Everybody looks exasperated at Gwen when instead, IMO, they should be high fiving Gwen’s bad ass self for sticking an axe in a hellhound and surviving the encounter. Anyway, everybody - even Crowley - is ready to saddle up and put an end to Ramsey.
“That mutt’s head, mounted on my wall - good for the brand,” Crowley says, explaining his participation.
“A hellhound gunning for revenge,” Dean snarks. “Just when I thought this gig couldn’t get any weirder.”
“It can always get weirder,” Crowley tells him, weirdly. (I APPROVE of this message and also your weirdly significant look, Crowley...and by extension Andrew Dabb / Davy Perez?? That is a damn fine motto right there.)
Back in Crowley’s palace, two demons open up Lucifer’s cell with a key they purloined from Crowley’s pocket. They walk in to find Lucifer trussed up and mouth gagged.
(At this point there was a commercial break during the broadcast. I feel compelled to tell you that I spent the whole commercial break cursing Crowley’s stupidity for locking Lucifer up with simple chains that open with a key. Crowley! Who is always so clever when it comes to self-preservation. Anyway.)
The two minions immediately begin fawning over Lucifer - and complaining about Crowley. He killed everyone involved in “the cage project.”. Minions 1 and 2 set Ramsey free as a distraction so they could bust Lucifer out.
Back in the woods Dean pulls out two holy-fire-treated pairs of eyeglasses. Dean and Crowley will patrol the woods for Ramsey while Sam drives around with Gwen in the Impala.
Dean settles a soulful look on Sammy. “Take care of her,” he implores. Oh Dean, you big soft package of cotton candy! Don’t worry! The Winchesters always find a way to save the day! While we’re all clutching at our hearts, Sam realizes that Dean was referring to Baby - not scared little axe-swinging, hellhound mauling Gwen. “Imagine she’s a beautiful woman,” Dean tells him. (The rest of us: side eye.) Okay, great talk, Dean. He heads off into the woods with Crowley as Sam drives away.
Boomeranging back to Castiel, he’s parked in a bar with Kelvin sipping waters. (Bartenders must HATE angels.) Heaven’s running along in an orderly fashion but the angels want him back to help with their nephilim problem. Castiel has the most field experience, after all.
“I think you overestimate me,” Cas says, profoundly underestimating himself (as is his way lately).
Kelvin begs to differ and suggests that having Heaven waiting in the wings when the wee human Winchesters fail is just smart strategy. Plus, as a bonus, if Cas does Heaven a solid then he can go back to coming and going as he pleases. Cas doubts Kelvin’s ability to actually follow through on any of the promises he’s spinning, so Kelvin drops his power card. Kelvin is just a messenger from Heaven - Joshua can restore Cas to his rightful place in Heaven. Go on, emotes Cas, turning towards Kelvin.
“Imagine it, Castiel. For you to come and go as you please. Part of your family - your true family again.” Cas looks at him in consideration. (Me: Noooooooo Cas!)
Back in the palace, Lucifer is suffering through the worst Hell-torture of all: irritating minions. They finally finish outlining their list of demands. Well, one of them has a long list of demands. All that Minion #2 cares about is “Making Hell great again.” (Me: laugh cries)
At last they unlock Lucifer. Stupid STUPID minions. Minion 1 disintegrates in a puff of fire and ash. Minion 2 offers himself up. “My life is yours to devour!”
Lucifer: “See, now you just made it weird.” POOF.
In the woods on the hellhound hunt, Crowley flirts with Dean. He’s all “those glasses bring out your eyes” and “remember that fivesome we had when you were a demon?”
Dean and Crowley marvel at a Winchester and the King of Hell working together yet again. “You saved Cas,” Dean says, at last thanking Crowley for saving the day a few episodes ago.
“Just to spare myself the Winchester man pain,” Crowley snarks.
Dean sees something in the woods - it’s Gwen’s boyfriend’s body, dragged back to Ramsey’s den. The hellhound’s den is empty!
For Science
And back to the Impala, where Sam drives along merrily with Gwen who succumbs to the Impala’s magical confession and introspection powers. “This is all my fault,” she mourns. She asks Sam to pull over so she can vomit. When she returns she confesses that she wanted to break up with her boyfriend, but she still acted like everything was perfect between them. “Why couldn’t I just tell him the truth? I lied to make things easier.”
Sam weeps along with her (internally) and reflects upon his own lying lies with Dean. He finally pulls himself out of his miserable slump and looks up to see Ramsey snarling in front of them. (Me: Hit it with the car, Sam! Wouldn’t be the first dog, amirite?)
Ramsey busts up Baby a bit, then Sam grabs an angel blade and heads out to kill the dog. The glasses get knocked off of his face during a scuffle and things look bad for our hero. Then Gwen comes out and knocks the hellhound off of Sam like a fucking bad ass.
This gives Sam just the distraction needed to climb to his feet. When the hound rushes him again, he stabs her with the blade, killing her.
When the four regroup, Dean castigates Sam for his damaged car. A relieved Gwen gives Crowley a giant happy bunny hug. Sam thanks Crowley with actual words and feelings and Crowley zaps out. “He seems nice,” Gwen says, chirpily.
Crowley heads straight for the palace where Lucifer’s torture chair is empty! He finds Luci in his throne room. I’m yelling ZAP OUTTA THERE CROWLEY WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU when Crowley snaps his fingers and Lucifer’s magical archangel wings fizzle out.
“I’m always ten steps ahead,” Crowley reminds Lucifer. He had his vessel fixed up and heavily warded. Lucifer’s meatsuit is his prison! (Me: punches air in joy at this development) Just as Crowley learned not to underestimate the Winchesters, Lucifer really has to learn not to underestimate the MacLeods.
Crowley dusts off his hands, steps over a whimpering Lucifer, and settles onto his throne. Crowley’s going to rip apart Lucifer’s child in front of him, and then he’s going to continue his revenge. (I’m guessing with more torture-by-irritating-minion.)
Elsewhere, the boys are just making it back to the bunker when Cas calls. He has a lead on Kelly Kline. (Hooray!) Cut to Cas, getting out of his truck and walking into...fuuuuuuuck...a playground. While I’m freaking out, Cas tells the boys about Dagon.
They hang up and Dean frowns at the phone. “He sound weird to you?” Dean, your worried husband rader is SPOT ON.
There’s no time to reflect on that, however. Sam gets an alert from the Men of Letters about another case. He decides to come clean to Dean, telling him that instead of a computer program feeding him cases, he’s been getting jobs from the BMoL. Sam tries to explain his position and apologizes for lying to Dean.
Dean hates it, but he agrees that they work with people they don’t trust all the time. Hell, they just worked with Crowley. So he’ll work with them on one condition: the second something feels off they both bail.
The phone rings again. “It’s Mick,” Sam says, holding up his phone.
“Pick it up,” Dean says, not radiating any kind of deep man pain at all.
Boris: Overall, on the surface, I felt like things were a bit off this episode. Dean seems to be taking all these lies and deceptions really well. What’s he thinking? Is he going along with Sam and Mary because he doesn’t want to lose them? Suddenly Sam has another family member to choose--and in a way he picked a side. Dean’s gut instinct is usually right --so it hurts to see him cave so easily to Sam and Mary. And Cas? I want to believe that he went to heaven for one final goodbye. Can he find a way to use the angels to TFW’s advantage? So much hasn’t been said after his big confession. He’s said and done SO much for the Winchesters this season, but there’s been very little given to him in return. And, I’m totally on board for cleaning up the ridiculous Lucifer Meatsuit improbability. I just thought it was such a stupid reason for it, but to have Crowley be 10 steps ahead of Lucifer is satisfying to watch. And Sam saved the flipping day again! And started the trials again? He killed a hellhound. I realize it’s nbd for them these days, but it’s, uh, really not.
Natasha: Sam didn’t do the incantation, so no trials. I thought Dean was shocked about Sam’s news - bitter and worried, but also respecting Sam’s right to make his own choices. He’s probably going to angry fix his car the first chance he gets. I agree that Cas trying to get back into Heaven’s good graces is a tired storyline by this point. What I’m hoping is that Cas appears to agree because he sees the tactical advantage of using Heaven’s resources. After all, he just saw two angels confront Kelly Kline...they must have some resource that’s beyond him to find her. Furthermore, he seems intrigued by Joshua’s involvement. I think Cas wants to know who’s on the game board. I’m hoping that Cas gathers intel and heads down to the Winchesters when he’s put together a solid plan. However, there are definitely parallels between the Winchesters/BMoL and Cas/Heaven in terms of our heroes working with people they don’t trust, but that might help them achieve their goals in an efficient manner. Given that Cas is gone for the next 3 episodes leaves us with a ton of questions about what could explain his absence. And the fact that he isn’t telling the Winchesters a thing is breaking my fuckin’ heart.
Who’s a good Quote?
It’s two and two. Doesn't count if you flip ‘em inside out.
Computers. Monsters? Porn? Is there anything they can’t do?
Most sheeple can’t handle the truth. But not me. I’m woke.
Who ya gonna call? Douchebusters.
The FBI, the Man in Black. Well, you know, Beige.
#spn 12x15#somewhere between heaven and hell#spn recap#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#cas#crowley#lucifer#supernatural season 12
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
viric-dreams
Cosmogone Wishes and Viric Dreams
aeonmagus
Aeon Magus
ely-genteel
Ely Genteel
sexbocai-blog
中国博彩簧片基地
weaslxtte
heyyy🕺