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#Buy geography books
snaxle · 27 days
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Nah cause like. Have these people never been curious enough to look into where places are???
funny thing is im bad at geography but also im Crazy hyperfixated on tornadoes/bad weather and shit, and have a big interest in mountain climbing/caving so i LOVE just researching random mountains and lakes from other countries in the middle of the night which also then leads into me just reading about said countries general geographical information. i absolutely love it. in another world, if i didnt have a learning disability that makes it hard for me to remember things i wouldve loved to study this stuff for a living
im actually planning on hopefully buying a book on tornadoes later this week and im really excited :D
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catshinji · 7 months
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YO if you're not so good at geography and want to improve, i really recommend playing globle!
i play it every day, when you select the practice option in the menu it lets you play as many rounds as you like. it's genuinely fun! and i've gotten pretty good at it and can solve them pretty fast now!
if you have even the tiniest sense that your knowledge of geography could be better, definitely keep globle open in a tab and play it whenever you have some spare minutes!
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akidcalledalex · 2 years
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Drew this at school today !!
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matthewarcher · 2 months
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for people interested in a critical take on sustainability, my book is 30% off for the next month through the combined academic publishers website
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cherie-doll · 4 months
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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Parents
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₊˚ପ⊹ Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi
༉‧₊˚. I wrote this while at a party
Ghost
So sweet and gentle around his kids
He holds their tiny hand next to his and chuckles at the size difference
Doesn’t let the kids eat in the car
Once he’d given the kids a sticker pack and then fell asleep on the living room floor
When he woke up his face and back were covered in stickers
Soap
Is a kid himself
Buys the kids questionable gifts
“Johnny, why did you give them firework snappers?”
“It’ll keep ‘em entertained for a while”
“They’re throwing it at the neighbors…”
Snickering “Let them have fun”
Gaz
Tucks the kids into bed
When one of them has a nightmare he’ll insist on getting out of bed to make sure they’ll be alright while you sleep
Will wake up earlier than you to make them waffles and have a cup of coffee/tea warm and ready for you
Cleans up the kids’ play area
Stays on top of their doctor and dental appointments
Takes cute pics of you when you’re holding the kids
Writes endearing love notes and has the kids give them to you
Alejandro
The type to remind their kid how proud they are of them
Encourages the kids to pick up a sport
Constantly shows their kid support
“Échale ganas mijo/mija” or “Ponte las pilas”
He gets protective of the kids when you get mad at them, taking them out for ice cream afterward to assure them they’re still loved
When you’re very stressed and busy he finds a quiet moment to give you a shoulder massage
He also makes sure to remind the kids to appreciate you and the hard work you do taking care of them
Phillip Graves
Makes time on weekends to take the kids to fun places
He prefers road trips over airplane rides
Says it teaches the kids a thing or two about geography
Would want the kids to spend plenty of time outside
(Making sure they touch that grass fr)
If you’re of a different ethnicity than him he would want the kids to learn about their heritage
Keegan
The type to play rough with his kids
If he had a daughter he’d teach her self-defense
He has hair tutorial videos saved to try doing his daughter’s hair for school and for his boys he just whips out some hair gel, slaps it on, and calls it a day
His favorite spot to take the kids on vacation is the beach
Regardless of how spent he is at the end of the day, he’ll make time for the children
Once you walked into the living room to find Keegan in the armchair asleep with the kids resting their heads on his chest or shoulder, you have a pic of it taped on the fridge
König
Ngl I feel like he would be somewhat clueless around kids
He went to the library to pick up books on parenting when he found out you were expecting
He’s over the moon the moment he holds the baby in his arms
“Am I doing it right?”
He turns the tv on intending to keep the kids quiet for a while but he ends up getting into the cartoons while the children wander off
Horangi
Real laid back dad
Buys the kids whatever they want when going to the store
You scold him along with the kids for overspending on candy and toys
When you get on his back for it he’ll nod and keep his head down
“Sorry 자기야, I won’t do it again”
He will do it again
He’ll apologize to you but give the kids a knowing grin behind your back
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bloodyknucklesforme · 5 months
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Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU
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After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods
Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic
Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
5.5k words
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It smelled like Summer. Ozonic and earthy, carried into your car by the breeze as you drove North through winding roads. Montpelier was two hours behind you now. 
Despite the eighty degree heat, Vermont was lush and green. Only a couple more miles of shaded forest roads before you reached camp. At least you hoped so. Your maps app had been slow to load the last twenty miles.
The place was North, nestled between the border of Canada and the New Hampshire state line. It was gorgeous though. Anytime you thought about moving out of New England to somewhere cheaper the next season changed your mind. The trees just didn’t look as pretty in fall or the snow as splendid in winter. You just wished it was cheaper.
Suppose that’s why you took this job, as much as it didn’t appeal to you. Camp counselor for seven long weeks, the pay was shit but your food and board came free. After a bad breakup you didn’t have time to find a new lease so your life was packed up into a rented storage box with anything valuable shoved into the back of your car. 
A friend of a friend recommended it. She’d been working here for years, attended for even more. She was an old money New Englander. Boarding school outside of Boston and all that. She was nice though. Got you the job over any qualified candidates. It wasn’t nepotism but whatever it was called you wouldn’t complain.
Your car dinged. Low gas. Shit.
Scrolling quickly through the map you saw a gas station up ahead. You’d just make it… hopefully. 
You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the station. It was older with dusty windows and sun-faded posters for cigarettes. 
A piece of paper was taped to the pump.
“Reader broken. Pay inside” scribbled in sharpie.
You sighed and headed inside. 
It was dusty inside too. A couple aisles of brightly packaged food and walls lined with fridges filled with beer and soda. The man behind the counter glanced up from his book when you walked in.
He was handsome. Black with dark, short cut curly hair and big brown eyes. Much too handsome to be working in the middle of nowhere. He’d look more fitting in the corner of a bar, buying you a drink. He smiled up at you and your heart might have skipped a beat. 
“Pump three? How much?” He was English… strange.
“Just…uh… ten bucks.” You stumbled out. 
“It’s the accent,” he chuckled. “It throws everybody off the first time.” 
“It’s a strange place for an Englishman to be, I guess.” You swayed awkwardly. 
“I go to Middlebury. Easier to get a summer job than fly home.” He shrugged. 
“Understandable.” You weren’t an expert on Vermont geography but you swore the college was on the other side of the state. 
“Ten on three.” He said, nodding his head towards the window.
“Oh yeah. Thank you.” 
“You still got to pay, love.”
“Oh fuck, yeah. Sorry… uh… Kyle.” You read his name tag before digging through your tote bag, finding the last bit of your cash.
“No worries. What brings a girl like you out here.”
“I’m working at the camp.”
“Weldon lake, right?”
“Yeah. First time… I’m going the right way, right?”
“If you continue up the road. There will be a sign when you need to turn.” He handed you your receipt. 
“Thank you.” 
“Hey!” You were half way out the door when he called. “Stay alive out there. Heard the campers can be down right evil.”
“I’ll try!”
The rest of the journey was smooth, there was a sign just like Kyle said. Another one after that taking you down a long gravel drive and into a dirt parking lot. A couple other cars were there already. 
You made sure everything important was locked up in the trunk before grabbing your duffel bag and tote. You hoped you brought enough sunscreen. 
The sun was warm on your back as you made your way up to the main building. Two other girls were hanging around on the porch. They each wore matching white baseball shirts with red sleeves and trim, each labeled with STAFF on the back. 
“Hey, you’re Sophia’s friend, right? I’m Janie.” She jumped down from the porch fence. “I love your braids by the way.”
You’d done your hair before leaving, figuring it’d be easier to keep clean braided than fight for limited shower time. 
“I’m Natalie,” The other girl greeted. You introduced yourself, thanking Janie for the compliment.”
“I think your cabin is next to mine. I can take you over once you check in.” Janie said.
Check in was easy enough. Sign a couple more papers, show off your ID to prove you were you and get your cabin assignment, key and two staff shirts. Tomorrow was orientation before the campers arrived Monday morning. Tonight was for getting to know everyone. 
“So, where’s this cabin?” you asked, walking outside.
The girls grinned and led you down the path. Everything seemed to branch off from here. They pointed out where the dining hall was just past the main office next to the nurse’s station.
“Don’t expect much. They’re still recovering from when Covid almost killed this place.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. They had to raise fees and a bunch of parents freaked out. Guess an extra hundred dollars really threw all the millionaires off.” Natalie laughed. 
Next was the pool, fully fenced in and surrounded by two tennis courts and two basketball courts on either side. 
“Hey lasses!” A man called from the pool, leaning over the chain link fence. Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the new girl?”
He had a thick Scottish accent. Lots of transplants for the area, you guessed. He was also handsome. Muscular with a dark mohawk and light eyes. He was shirtless with very short and tight red shorts on and a silver whistle around his neck. He was dripping water over the ground.
“You say that like you aren’t also the new guy, Johnny!” Natalie called, clearly annoyed already. 
“Nat hates him.” Janie giggled. 
“It’s been three hours and he’s already tried to fuck half the counselors. He’s a dog.”
“One I’d put on a leash.” Janie laughed.
Johnny walked over, still dripping wet. His crocs squeaked with every step. 
“Johnny,” he grinned, holding out his hand to you. You introduced yourself as he shook your hand excitedly. He had a tattoo on his side, up by his ribs. You couldn’t see all of it but it looked like a heart with someone’s initials in it. S and something else, you couldn’t tell for sure. “Beautiful name for a beautiful gal.”
Your cheeks felt hot as his blue eyes traveled over your body. 
“It’s going to be a fun seven weeks with all you bonnie lasses around.” He grinned. Nat looped her arm around yours.
“Down dog. We still have half the camp to show off.”
“You know where to find me. Pool looked like the lake when I got here.” He raised his hands up as he walked backwards towards the pool again.
“Come on, before we lose Janie.”
“He’s hot!” She defended. 
“You just like him because he got your name right on the first try.”
“He’s intelligent too!”
The cabins were next. Ten white painted buildings split in half with about eight beds on each side and a shared bathroom in the back. They formed a circle around a fire pit with log benches. 
You had cabin room 14. Janie was the building next door in 15 and Nat with 16 sharing with her. They took turns explaining everything.
“Your bed is the only non bunk and the chest underneath locks so anything you don’t want the campers to find should go there.”
“Basically all your shit. I had a copy of Crime and Punishment stolen last year. Fucking Crime and Punishment like any of these kids could read Dostoevsky.”
“Showers are in the back. Hot water is sparse so if you want some, move quick and early.”
“Breakfast is at 8. Coffee tastes like shit unless you pour half a pound of sugar in it.” 
“You can vape just outside but if you smoke you gotta ask your neighbor counselor to watch your kids. At least thirty feet away or they’ll snitch too.”
“Weed is only for days off because they'll either snitch or demand you share. That goes for kids and counselors.” 
“Days off are randomly assigned but you should get one every other week.”
“I don’t recommend sleeping with other counselors but if you must, go to your car.” Natalie said. 
“We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is in an hour. You can meet everyone else then.”
“Thank you guys for everything.” You felt overwhelmed just a bit. 
They left, still arguing about Johnny. He was cute but the break up wounds were still fresh. You didn’t want to sneak around either. You weren’t a teenager anymore.
You haphazardly dumped the contents of your duffle into the lock chest before shoving it back under the bed. You had seven weeks to organize it. 
The bed was okay. A plastic covered mattress with an old sleeping bag. You should have brought your own pillow. Maybe a Target run on your next day off whenever that was. 
The ache in your muscles from driving all day hit hard the moment you sat down. 
There was a knock on the door. 
“Hey sleepyhead!” Sophia came in. You rubbed your face as you woke up. Out the window you could see the sky looked darker, a blue summer evening. “I’m glad you ended up coming.”
“Yeah. Thanks for getting me the job.” You stretched, your shoulders cracking. “It’s nice to get away.” 
“I’m sorry about you and Ale.” There it was. She was nice but always craved gossip. 
“It’s okay. Just wanted different things.”
You shrugged. It wasn’t a bad breakup, no arguing, just a slow and painful demise. He’d even offered to let you stay with him when the lease ended and he found out you didn’t have a place to go. You chose this instead. 
“Well, let’s get you something to eat. The food is incredibly mediocre but I heard a rumor that the lifeguard has beer and weed for the fire pit.”
She was not wrong about dinner. Hot dogs with a slice of Kraft cheese melted on top with a bag of chips as a side. 
You sat with Nat, Sophia and Janie. 
“There are my lovely ladies!” Johnny sat down, forcing his way between Cel and Sophia. Nat looked like she wanted to kill him. “Coming out to the lake tonight? Hope you all brought swim suits or birthday suits.”
“Jesus Christ.” Nat groaned. 
“I think we’re gonna have an easy night. Some of us had long drives.” Sophia motioned to herself and you. “Just some girl time.”
Johnny pouted. 
“Fair enough but I do expect all of you at the bonfire tomorrow.” He pointed at all of them, even Nat. “Especially you new girl.”
He got up and jogged off to another table of girls. 
“Am I allowed to call him a slut?”
“What happened to dog?” Janie asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“Dogs can be trained.” 
You all laughed. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. All the other girls knew each other for years at this point. Janie and Sophia had been coming here since they were kids. Nat met Janie in high school and got a job as a junior counselor with her the first chance they got. 
It wasn’t a super attractive job and the pay was shit but it looked good on resumes and college applications apparently. Showed responsibility. Most of your experiences with camp were from horror films. 
The sun was still out as the four of you walked back. Sophia was your cabin neighbor, taking care of room 13. It’s where you all gathered. 
Sophia and you sat on her bed while she did your nails. 
“Red looks nice on you.” It was a bright cherry red. She’d picked it out, saying they should all match. 
The evening was spent talking and laughing. You asking questions about camp life and getting advice from the other girls. 
You had friends back home but you were glad you fit in so fast. Any anxiety and fear for the Summer slipped away as the sun set. 
“I’m beat.” Nat yawned. It was almost midnight now. Janie agreed and the two wandered off back to their cabin. 
“I’ll head back too. Thank you for being so welcoming, Soph.”
“Absolutely! It’s nice to get fresh meat every once and a while. It can be tough with the kids so some people get jaded. I hope you have fun this Summer and if you don’t you can blame me.” She laughed. 
The air was cool on the little porch out front. Most of the other cabins had their lights off by now and the center was lit up with fireflies, neon yellow dots. 
There was an orange dot out towards the back of one of the cabins across the way. A cigarette. The man smoking it seemed larger than any counselor you’d seen but it was dark and he was half hidden behind the building. It was Johnny’s cabin, you think. He was big. 
He waved and you waved back. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The little corner fell dark and you went into your side.
You didn’t realize how quiet the world could be as you curled up in your sleeping bag. No hum of electronics or cars. No people yelling above or below you. Just the stillness of the stars.
It was an early morning. Johnny was running around the circle of cabins playing music to wake everyone up. He was shirtless again and his shorts seemed shorter than the day before. You wouldn’t complain. 
“So why did you choose this wonderful vista as a summer job?” Johnny asked, jogging up next to you as you made your way to the dining hall. 
“Needed a break. Get out in nature for a bit. I grew up in the suburbs and just broke up with my boyfriend so I guess I wanted to breathe for a bit. You?”
“Running from my previous life of crime.” He smiled. “Nah, just also trying to get away. Was military back home, knee injury did me in. Didn’t know what else to do. Hiked part of the Appliachian trail. You know, it's the same mountain range as the Highlands. Felt like I had to see them. Haven’t really felt like going back home yet.”
“You hiked alone?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew that it was one of the longest and hardest trails in the country. 
“Had a mate with me but I’m on my lonesome now.” He opened the door for you. Sure, he was boisterous but he seemed harmless one on one. Maybe a little dogish but he wasn’t going to hump your leg unprompted. 
“Shirts are needed in the dining hall, Mactavish!” Sophia called. He held up his hands in surrender before fishing out a cropped muscle tee that had been shoved into his pocket. It was a nice change of pace to be around a man that wanted to show off his own skin rather than try to get girls to show theirs. 
You told yourself before you got here that you wouldn’t look for that kind of distraction. It wasn’t worth it, especially not this early. You could look though. No harm in that. 
Bacon, Eggs and self-serve cereal was today’s breakfast. You joined back up with the girls from last night. Orientation was supposed to take up most of the day so they encouraged you to grab a couple pieces of fruit and a protein bar.
“Only fill up your water bottle in here. There are fountains elsewhere but I think they taste weird.” Said Janie. 
You were put in a group with Johnny, Sophia, and another guy named Warren. He and Sophia were long term counselors so they gladly took on the role of being you and Johnny’s tour guide. Johnny had been hired because of his lifeguard training so he already knew the layout of the lake and pool. You were scolded for not having proper shoes for hiking.
“What’s your size? I might have an old pair in my car.” Sophia offered. “If not I think there’s an L.L.Bean like two hours away. We can go on our next day off.”
You weren’t sure if you could afford brand new boots so silently hoped that Sophia did have that old pair and they fit. 
“Don’t want ya getting blisters all summer.” Johnny said. He was doing the hike in crocs but apparently did have boots back at his cabin. 
You didn’t do the full trail but Warren pointed out the different routes and how difficult each one was and which ones kids could do by themselves and which ones they couldn’t. The fields were next. A soccer field and baseball field were across the way from the cabins. It was a loose definition of each. One was a huge patch of grass and the other a diamond of dirt. Both looked a little off size wise. There was the sports supply shed that had all the equipment in it. Only a couple counselors had keys to it.
“People kept using it inappropriately.” Sophia smiled.
There was the art building, the rec hall, a path leading towards the archery field and riflery field.
“Riflery?”
“Yeah. We used to teach kids how to shoot. Mostly clay pigeons but it was one of the programs cut after Covid,” Warren explained. 
“Shame I missed it. Could have taught the kids trick shots.” Johnny joked, pretending to aim a rifle backwards over his shoulder. 
The horse stable was also closed. Too expensive to have horses here for even half the season. 
The Lake was the last part of the tour. It was on the other side of the road so to get there was an underpass to get there. It was large enough for five adults to walk side by side comfortably but the yellow light from the lamps gave it a sickly vibe. 
It ended a little ways before the beach. There were several rows of Kayaks and another shed filled with life preservers and paddles. 
“Wow Johnny! You cleaned it up well.” Warren clapped him on the back. For a moment Johnny looked irritated that he’d been touched but he shoved that emotion out of the way to make room for his usual excited self. 
“Yeah. Cleaned up the best I could.”
“It looks great, Johnny.” You were impressed. He’d even sprayed the kayaks down, bright clean plastic in a rainbow of colors.
“Yer making me blush.” He laid a hand over his heart. 
The lake was gorgeous. Cream colored sand feeding into sapphire waters. You could just see the beach on the other side, a small empty dock with a path leading into the woods. The camp side had a floating platform about thirty feet into the water. 
“Campers have to swim there and back to pass the swimming competency test.” Sophia explained. “If you can’t swim on your own you’re stuck in the buoyed area.” 
There was a ten by ten foot area cordoned off by buoys, keeping to the shallow end of the lake. Made enough sense. No one wanted to fish a dead kid out of the water.
“Let’s head back. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Warren clapped his hands together. 
The four of you made the trek back to the dining hall. You did feel like blisters were starting to form on the back of your ankles. You’d have to put band-aids on them later. 
The rest of the afternoon was spent going over itinerary for the following week. Campers would arrive tomorrow between ten and six. It was a day mostly planned out for settling them in with an inaugural bonfire that night. After that it was seven weeks of regular old American camp adventures. 
You went back to your cabin the moment you had free time. Your ankles hadn’t started to bleed but they were bright red and throbbing. You applied the bandaids and grabbed another pair of socks to wear the rest of the way. 
There was about an hour and half before dinner and final orientation from the camp managers, who, you had been told, often made themselves scarce throughout the summer to avoid having to do their jobs. You settled on top of your sleeping bag. A nice breeze came in through the screen door. Janie had told you that it was the best way to keep the building cool.  
You thought about Ale. His smile and deep laugh. How he’d wake you up in the morning with kisses to the back of your neck. How he loved your hair and ass. How he’d whisper in Spanish to you. You still had the English/Spanish dictionary he gave you shoved in a box back in the city. You missed him. Your cowboy. He would have been so disappointed to hear the stables were closed. Maybe you’d call him after all this. Ask to work something out. 
You drifted off daydreaming about the scent of his cologne.
“Bonnie! You’re gonna miss dinner!” Johnny was knocking on the screen door. Maybe Nat was right in being annoyed by him all the time. 
“I’ll just miss it.” you sighed, rolling over on the bed. 
“You never know which meal is your last. Best not to skip any! C’mon or I’ll drag ya myself.”
You would have thrown a pillow if you had one. How did he always have so much energy?
He jogged literal circles around you on the way to the dining hall.
“How are your feet?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“You were limping on the way back to the cabins earlier.”
“Oh…yeah just blisters.”
He tutted at you. 
“Got to get you some good shoes soon.”
Dinner was the same hot dogs as the previous night with a bonus of a bowl of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a slice of cucumber. 
There was an excited energy in the room. Most people who’d snuck in alcohol or drugs said tonight was the best night to use it all. An unspoken competition of who could drink the most and still function when the first campers started to arrive. It could be fun, you mused. You were never a big partier in college and what was this if not a perfect chance to make up for that. 
The boys built up a nice fire, each poking and prodding their own side with their favorite stick. You sat on one of the log benches next to Sophia and Janie. Johnny was across the fire, his arm around the waste of another girl counselor. Ceilidh you think it was. Pronounced like Kay-lee, she’d said. Pretty name, Gaelic. Made sense for him to go after a piece of home.
“Glad he’s finally left us alone.” Nat chuckled. 
“I think they’re cute.” Sophia said. You pushed down the twinge of jealousy you felt seeing her giggle at his joke. 
Warren came around with a cooler filled with a hodgepodge of beer. He was his fraternity’s president and one of his responsibilities was to get rid of any extra at the end of the term to avoid trouble. Dry campus issues. 
You grabbed a Modelo. Ale’s old go to and one you’d gotten used to drinking. It left a familiar warm feeling in your stomach.
You drank, you danced, you ate s’mores, you laughed with your new friends. The stars seemed so bright and clear out here. Janie had you all lay out on your backs in the grass nearby as she pointed out each constellation.
“That’s the big dipper and above it is the little dipper but Draco is the constellation between them. If you guys tell me your star signs I can point it out for you.”
There was laughter nearby and you glanced up to see Johnny and Ceilidh sneaking in the dark towards her cabin. 
You had another beer. And another. Maybe one more after that. 
Someone offered you a hit off a joint so you did that too. 
The four of you were laughing and stumbling back to Sophia’s cabin. You had no idea how late it was. The fire was dying out. Warren said he would make sure everyone got back inside all right. The designated driver of drunken counselors. He was a good guy. 
You found yourself laying on your side on one of the empty beds. Sophia and Janie were on her bed, half asleep against each other. Nat and you were talking about your childhoods. 
“I broke a bone three years in a row, each time in May. I missed field day every time. My mom once pulled me around in a wagon so I wouldn’t feel left out,” She laughed. 
“How did you break so many bones?”
“Catholic school where the playground was just a parking lot. I was a wild kid. I broke my arm tripping and falling against the priest’s car. I dented it too. I thought I was going to hell.”
There was a shrill noise. Loud and stomach dropping. A scream cut off. You and the other girls all jumped to attention. It was silent except for the crackling of the fire outside. 
“Fisher cat.” Janie said, trying to convince herself.
“Or a fox.” Sophia added. 
“Did you guys hear that?” Warren said, coming in. 
The four of you nodded.
“It sounded close. I’m gonna check it out.”
“By yourself?”
“One of the other guys is gonna come with me. It’s probably just an animal. If you see Johnny tell him to go check on everyone. I want a headcount before we all go to sleep.”
You all watched from the window as Warren met another guy holding a flashlight and a baseball bat. Sophia turned on the porch light. They disappeared between the cabin’s across the way. 
“Johnny and Celilidh went off together. Should we try to find them?” Sophia offered. 
“Maybe we should just stay here. Safety in numbers.” Janie answered. 
“Safety from what? It was just an animal.” Nat insisted. 
“Didn’t sound like an animal.” You thought. No one else would say it but you were all thinking it. A slide show of clips from horror films played through your mind. 
Four sets of eyes darted around, looking out windows and the front door, waiting for some masked killer to seep through the walls.
Bang!
You all screamed as Johnny flew through the door, clutching his stomach. 
“We have to go now!” He grunted. Blood was pouring between his fingers.
“Oh my god. What happened? Where’s Ceilidh?”
“Dead… fuck.. She’s fucking dead. Fucker came in through the window in the bathroom. I tried to fight him off. I’m sorry.” He gulped. “We have to go now!”
“You’re bleeding. Please let me look.” Janie reached out and he pushed her hand away. 
“Don’t have time. We have to go. Get my car keys. I can fit us all.”
“What about everyone else?” You asked. There was so much blood, it was dripping on the floor now. 
“I don’t know… when..when’s the last time you saw anyone?”
There was another scream from outside. Silence took you over again.
“Please… we can get out and get help but we have to go now.” Johnny pleaded. His bright blue eyes were watery and his tan skin was stained red down his legs. 
“I’m going.” Sophia said, grabbing her backpack. “Fuck this. I’m not fucking dying like it’s a movie. We’re all going. Johnny, do you need help?”
“No, I can manage. I need to get my keys though.”
“I have mine. We can just take my car. It’s an SUV.” Sophia urged, crouching down to look out of the door.
“No…no…I…I uh…I have a gun in my car.”
“You brought a fucking gun to camp?” Nat’s jaw dropped. 
“Old shotgun. It works. I’m trained for this. Get to the car and I… I can kill him.”
“You’re bleeding out, Johnny.” Janie cried, reaching for him again and once again being pushed away. 
“Come with me.” Johnny looked at you.
“I…I…I don’t know.” You were shaking. It didn’t seem real. Too cliche. A real life spree killer running around the woods of a Summer camp. Sophia was right, you didn’t want to die like it was some movie. 
“He knows I’m weak. He’ll go after me first. We’ll get my keys and if he shows up… you take them and run.”
“You..can’t sacrifice yourself.” Your voice warbled.
“It was my job to do that. If I can’t die saving my country, I’d like to die saving a group of pretty girls.”
Johnny was pleading. He seemed to know he couldn’t do it on his own. You thought about Ale saying you needed to stand up for yourself more. You never did. You didn’t stand up to bullies in high school, rogue professors in college or shitty demeaning bosses. You didn’t even stand up for yourself when Ale said he wanted a break. 
Nat was saying how you should all just run to Sophia’s car. She had her keys. Sophia was agreeing. Janie was crying silently. 
“I’ll go.” You forced the words out like vomit. It was that or actual vomit.
“Okay.” He almost smiled. “Sophia, turn off the lights. We’ll give you a signal when it's safe to come out. Then we all run to the parking lot.”
“What’s the signal?” Janie sobbed.
“I’ll whistle.”
You were shaking so much you worried you’d fall right down the front steps of the cabin. Johnny was in front of you, shoulders hunched up, his eyes darting everywhere. Sophia turned off the lights, leaving the two of you in near darkness. The fire was nothing more than orange smoldering logs. 
“You seem like you’ve done this before.” You said quietly, finding yourself holding the bottom hem of his shirt. 
“Like I said. It was my job.”
You walked on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise. Your heart cried for the others. Even if you didn’t know them. You didn’t hear or see anyone. Maybe they all got out? They escaped already…or the killer was chasing them deeper into the woods.
You didn’t want to die. In the movies it always seemed so prolonged. The stabbings and bleeding out. Johnny had been hurt and he was still going on, trying to save you and everyone else. 
“Stay here. I’ll go check to make sure it's clear.” He said. You’d made it to his cabin, whole body still shaking just on his porch now. Your heart leapt into your throat as the door creaked open. 
“Be careful, please.”
He winked at you before heading in. You picked at the skin around your nails, a nasty old habit that you tried so hard to kick. You could forgive yourself for this relapse. It seemed an appropriate time to scratch out anxiety.
The step behind you creaked. Any light from the fire was blocked out. A arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you flush with a wall of muscle. You screamed for Johnny as a knife cut into your stomach.
It hurt worse than you thought it would. He was stabbing you over and over. All those movies and none prepared you for the sound that came from being stabbed yourself. The rush of blood in your head. You kicked and scratched the best you could, catching the gap of skin between his gloves and sleeves. Flesh caught under your nails and tore. The knife cut sideways across your stomach. Something wet and heavy hit the floor by your feet.
“Fucking cunt.” The man growled. You could have thrown up if it didn’t feel like your stomach had been torn open. 
You hit the porch face first, no strength left to even try to hold yourself up. Blood pooled in your mouth. He stepped around you and in the corner of your eye you could make him out. 
Large, well over six feet and bulky with large shoulders. A half skull mask covered the top part of his face. His head was buzzed. He had a hunting knife in his hand and it dripped your blood onto the wood and onto your face. 
“Johnny!” Your killer called. You’d doomed him too. He could have gotten away. Johnny would die and it would be your fault. They all would now and it was your fault. 
You closed your eyes as the throbbing subsided. You didn’t want to listen. He was so nice. He didn’t deserve it.
You didn’t deserve this. 
You closed your eyes and let yourself slip away. 
You heard music. Loud obnoxious music and singing from an off key baritone scot.
You opened your eyes and you were in your sleeping bag in your cabin. It was Sunday morning again. 
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Shout out to @ceilidho for being an inspiration to me to write darker fics and letting me use her name for a counselor.
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Just as the Arab is always involved in Jewish Israeli discourse, the tree is always uninvolved. What could be ‘involved’ about planting a tree? A tree is a tree is a tree. And trees are not only uninvolved, they are good. ‘Ecologists usually portray nature as a domain of intrinsic value’, writes geography and law scholar Irus Braverman in her book, Planted Flags: Trees, Land, and Law in Israel/Palestine. Trees are assumed to be natural, innocent ecological entities with no say in politics. But in this conflict, which is largely a conflict over land – with two national movements contesting the same territory – digging below the surface shows that trees have been used strategically to seize, hold and control territory. They are used as tools ‘almost as if they were weapons’, writes Shaul Ephraim Cohen in his book, The Politics of Planting.  It is in Israel’s interest for trees to appear uninvolved, resulting in a process that Braverman calls ‘naturalisation’, meaning the portrayal of ecological changes as ‘natural’ or otherwise inevitable, and the use of the innocence of nature to cloak an ethno-national agenda. Indeed, Braverman’s book was originally titled Tree Wars before her publisher asked for a more marketable title. The message is clear: trees are part of a ‘covert war’ that mobilises ecology to fix and create geopolitical facts in the region, largely through the actions of the KKL-JNF – Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael, or the Jewish National Fund. The Jerusalem Forest, where I myself planted a pine sapling at the age of six, is a creation of the KKL-JNF, which planted a greenbelt of parks in the Judaean Hills west of the city in the 1950s and 1960s. Later, after Israel captured East Jerusalem – and the entire West Bank – from Jordanian control and ‘reunified’ it in 1967, this forest was expanded eastwards, across the Green Line. Like two-thirds of the 400,000 acres of forests managed by the KKL-JNF, the Jerusalem Forest is not scientifically classified as a ‘natural forest’ like the native stands of Mediterranean oak, terebinth and carob in the wetter parts of northern Israel. It is a distinctly human creation, with large monocultural stands of Aleppo pine trees of the same age. Ecologically, these pines are considered a ‘pioneer species’: growing quickly, requiring little maintenance and colonising what is considered, in the Zionist imaginary, to be ‘barren’ land.  Colonisation is precisely the point of afforestation. The KKL-JNF is a Zionist and quasi-governmental agency that was founded in 1901 as the paramount institution for buying and holding land for Jewish settlement in what was then Ottoman Palestine. The organisation bought land from local Palestinian residents and then began foresting or farming the land to demonstrate their presence and provide protection from land alienation. Today the KKL-JNF is still the largest private landholder in the region, owning 13 per cent of Israeli territory. Braverman describes the KKL-JNF as Israel’s ‘land-laundering body’, as the state employs the agency’s non-governmental status to hold vast swathes of land for exclusively Jewish use without fear of being labelled discriminatory. While the KKL-JNF performs many quasi-governmental tasks such as building roads, dams and farms, it is best known today for its campaigns to rehabilitate ‘degraded’ forests and plant new ones. The KKL-JNF claims to have planted 250 million trees over the past 120 years. 
[...]
After 1948, when the State of Israel was founded and more than 750,000 Palestinians were forcibly expelled from their land, the KKL-JNF began planting forests over Palestinian villages to prevent their residents from returning. The KKL-JNF felt that trees were, in their words, ‘the best guards of the land … Walls and fences can be cut down. A tree says “we are here”’. After planting, tree law protected new forests from demolition. This legal aspect was critical for afforestation’s success in capturing, occupying and controlling the land. It is part of what Braverman terms the ‘lawfare’ of the state, meaning an imperialist’s use of their own rules to impose a regime, which is then legitimised by its own legal structure. Israeli courts have determined that when a forest is grown on expropriated land, Palestinians who return to that land are trespassing. In 2010, the Supreme Court rejected a petition by Palestinian refugees from the village of al-Lajjun to reclaim land in the Megiddo forest, ruling that afforestation justified Israeli control under the 1953 Land Acquisition Law. As both Cohen and Braverman note then, short of human inhabitation, trees were considered the most effective tool to hold and control land for the Jewish state. What this meant, in practice, was that if there weren’t enough Jews to settle the land, the state used trees instead – as stand-ins for Jewish bodies.  The flip side of Israel controlling land through Jewish tree presence is expropriating Palestinian land through absence. Nowhere is this clearer than in the paradoxical legal status of the so-called ‘present absentees’, Palestinians who were internally displaced after the 1948 war. Under Israeli law, they lost their land deeds because they failed to prove ownership with a physical presence, even though many were driven from that land by violence. Israeli laws governing ‘Absentees’ Property’ have expropriated a startling 70 per cent of Israeli territory within the Green Line. Palestinian ‘absence’ was sloganised long before 1948 in the Zionist saying, ‘A land without a people for a people without a land’, which epitomises a deep failure and unwillingness to recognise native Palestinian inhabitation.
19 October 2021
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mars-and-the-theoi · 1 year
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Low energy Devotional Acts for when you don’t have a lot of energy (or time, or money, etc.) pt. 3
🎲Hermes🎲
- watch a comedy special
- watch a funny show or movie
- watch travel videos
- watch sports (literally any sport)
- if able learn a new language if unable to do that listen to music in a foreign language or watch a movie or show in a foreign language
- learn about the underworld and His role as a psychopomp
- the story of Him stealing Apollon’s cattle always makes me laugh so if you’re feeling down maybe read about that or watch a video about it!
- eat food from a foreign country or watch cooking videos with recipes from foreign countries
- make a bucket list of places you’d like to travel (doesn’t necessarily have to be other countries! It can be within your own country or in your own state! Or hell maybe there’s places in your own town/city you haven’t checked out yet that you’d like to go see!)
- learn some geography!
- listen to a devotional playlist for Him
- play some board games or card games or dice games
🌊Poseidon🌊
- listen to oceanic/sea soundscapes
- learn about earthquakes
- listen to sea shanties and learn about why they were used
- watch documentaries or shows about marine animals or the ocean/sea themselves
-learn about horses
- stay hydrated
- watch aquarium videos! They’re very soothing
- if able print out or buy ocean themed coloring pages/coloring books and color! (I also think the finished product could go great on His altar if you have one!)
- learn about and if able to take trips to local ponds or lakes (and if able go to the beach)
- learn about marine plants and marine biodiversity
- watch videos about naval history, or naval warfare
- learn about boats and sailing history
- watch videos about hurricanes! Learn about them!
- listen to a devotional playlist for Him
- learn about shipwrecks or maritime disasters if that interests you (my favorite YouTube channel for these vids is: Oceanliner Designs)
- watch ocean or maritime related shows or movies (I personally like The Terror which I get isn’t 100% ocean related but y’know)
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sovietpostcards · 4 months
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The World Around Us (1996)
Vintage geography book for children. It was very popular in the 90s, and pretty much all 90s kids will remember it. (I had one like this too, only in soft back.) It's heavily illustrated and covers topics like space and planets, climate, how the Earth is made inside, continents, flora and fauna of different areas of the world.
Hardback. 70 pages. In Russian. Good condition, the cover's laminate is a little wrinkly from age.
Size 22 × 29 cm (8.6" × 11.5")
Price $17 + $24 shipping (with a tracking number)
Message me if you want to buy this! Other items in my shop. I combine shipping. How to buy.
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Goodbye Gift - Part 1/3 (OPLA Luffy x Reader)
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Since you were younger, you used to read geography books about the four corners of the world and were amazed by how fascinating those places seemed, full of islands you'd never visited and exotic things you'd always dreamed of seeing in person.
It was always your dream to explore the incredible world you lived in, experience things you never had before, and learn new things about other cultures.
But unfortunately, you were forced to give up what you always dreamed of, when your mother died and you started helping your father in the family restaurant, which you would one day take over managing.
It would be very selfish of you if you left your father on that island alone, you weren't the only family he had, but you were still his daughter.
You pretended to him that your dream was nothing more than a silly childish thing, the last thing you wanted was for him to feel guilty for keeping you stuck on that island.
Seeing that a small group of people had arrived at the restaurant, the restaurant's cook stopped stirring the sauce pot and went to talk to you, who was distracted reading a book.
"Hey, new customers just arrived." He warned you, with the ladle in his hand, he accidentally dropped a drop of tomato sauce on your book.
You were outraged and it was no surprise, you had saved three salaries to buy that book.
"Do you have any idea how expensive that book is?!" You raged.
"Sorry, so sorry." He quickly apologized. "I'll manage to clean up, but someone has to go take orders now."
Still in a bad mood, you huffed and left the kitchen, while taking out your notepad and a pen from your apron.
You were afraid of being rude to a customer, as you had done before, but the angry frown on your face quickly disappeared when you laid eyes on one of the boys sitting at the table.
He seemed like the type of person who brought joy wherever he went. Moreover he was so handsome, and had such a bright smile that it made your heart flutter.
"Hey, if you want I can take their orders for you." Aisha, another waitress who was also your friend, asked.
"No!" You quickly denied it, which surprised her. You had never refused when someone offered to take orders in your place. "I mean, leave it to me, I have to work too."
She looked at the table where the group that entered was sitting and chatting and quickly understood your special interest.
"One of those cute boys caught your eye, huh?" She said in a suggestive tone of voice, lightly elbowing you.
"Shut up." You mumbled, ignoring her and went to the table.
You had to stop in the middle and take a deep breath to stay calm and not do anything that would embarrass you in front of the boy with the straw hat.
That wasn't the first time you had felt attracted to a client, but for some reason, none of the previous times compared to what you were feeling for him.
Flashing a smile, you walked over to the table where he was sitting, trying not to freak out when you saw him looking at you.
"Hello there, beautiful thing." The blonde boy hummed when he saw you. You looked at him and he blinked at you.
"Hello." You greeted him with disinterest. "Welcome to 'Tropical Flavor', can I take your orders or do you need some more time?"
"Oh." A young redhead raised her hand to indicate that she was the one ordering, before looking back at the menu. "I think I'll have the..."
You were about to write down her order, when you dropped the pen when you were startled by the loud noise the door made when it opened.
The reason was soon discovered, three threatening men entered, one of them had a gun, which he started pointing in all directions, which left customers terrified.
Except the last ones who arrived.
You picked up the pen from the floor and placed it with the notepad on the table, before approaching the man with the gun.
"Can I help you guys?" You asked with all the calm you had.
"Is she really talking civilly? To the bandits?" Nami asked in a loud whisper. "We have to do something..."
"No." Luffy quickly said, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. "Let's see what she does on her own. If things get serious, we'll intervene.”
Nami didn't believe what he said, but decided not to question it.
"Pass everything you have at the cash register and no one will get hurt!" He pointed the gun at you, trying to sound even more threatening than he already did.
"Okay, okay, nobody has to get hurt." You said, raising your hands to look like you were protecting yourself.
Waiting a second until he was distracted, as soon as you saw him look away from you, you quickly disarmed him and hit him with a punch to the face, which made him fall to the ground unconscious.
Realizing what had happened to the boss, the other two robbers who spread throughout the restaurant to take other clients hostage, soon came to his aid.
"Finally something interesting is happening here." You said, taking a defensive stance and preparing to fight again.
It wasn't difficult to defeat everyone else, they might be bigger and have more physical strength, but you were smaller and more agile and you knew how to use that to your advantage.
You received a round of applause for saving the restaurant from being robbed, while the last people who arrived were still dumbfounded that you had handled that situation alone. All but one.
"I knew she was a good fighter." He murmured, his interest in you growing even more after what had just happened.
"And we never doubted that." Nami joked.
You took some ropes from the pantry, tied the four of them together and asked one of the employees to go and tell the police.
Soon after, you returned to the table and took the notepad and pen back.
"Sorry for the delay." You apologized briefly. "Is everyone already ready to order?"
They placed their orders and you wrote down each one.
"I'll be right back with the drinks." You said, turning to head back to the kitchen. But you had to turn around again when you heard one of them shout your name.
The cute curly-haired boy smiled at you again. Until that moment you had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were, so big and bright, they seemed like they were looking straight into your soul.
"Name's Luffy." He introduced himself.
You smiled, even his name was cute.
"Nice to meet you then, Luffy." You said, before finally heading back to the kitchen, not knowing how you had managed to look away from him.
Timeskip...
After he and his group ate and paid the bill, they left, but Luffy remained in the restaurant, buying not very expensive drinks just so he could stay there, seeming to wait for the end of your shift.
Luckily for him and for you too, he didn't have to wait much longer. You looked at the clock hanging in the kitchen's wall and were happy to see that it was already 8 pm.
"Well guys, my time has come." You said, as you carefully took off your apron.
"Look how rushed she is to leave today." One of them said in a suggestive tone of voice, which made you groan in frustration when you saw that it was the beginning of yet another provocation.
"Does it have to do with a certain boy who didn't leave until now even after he finished eating?" Aisha joined.
"I hate you guys." You grumbled, as you went to the staff room.
"Oh stop, you love us." Aisha laughed.
You changed your uniform, which was basically a flowered blouse, pants and an apron, for the dress you arrived there in and let your hair down, which always needed to be tied in a bun to prevent your hair from falling into the food.
When he saw you again, this time with different clothes and hair down, the expression on his face suddenly changed. It felt like he was seeing a completely different person, but he knew it was you.
"Hey, wanna go somewhere else?" You asked him.
He smiled and got up from his chair, leaving some coins on the table to pay for the last glass of juice he had had.
You held his hand in yours and led him with you to the exit.
Across the street, there was an open bar on the beach. Whenever you left the restaurant, you would see people dancing to the loud music and drinking colorful cocktails from glasses decorated with pieces of fruit.
But it wasn't for you, you hated environments with loud music.
"Seems cool." Luffy commented to you, noticing you looking over there. "You wanna go there?"
"Honestly no." You replied, turning your face to look at him again. "I'd rather be somewhere where it's just you and me."
He was surprised by what you said, but it didn't take long for him to smile. That's what he wanted too, but he didn't know how to say it.
"Well then lead the way."
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fashionbooksmilano · 4 months
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Bhutan
A Kingdom of the Eastern Himalayas
Guy van Strydonck, Françoise Pommaret- Imaeda, Yoshiro Imaeda
Serindia Publ., London 1984, 175 pages, hardcover, ISBN 0906026 13X
euro 22,00
email if you want to buy [email protected]
The little-known kingdom of Bhutan, around the size of Switzerland, is now one of the last strongholds of Tantric Buddhism in the East. Although isolated for centuries by its geography, bound as it is on the south by dense tropical jungles and to the north by the Himalayas, in the last 15 years with the advent of motor roads and the national will to develop, it has slowly opened its doors to a few privileged vistoirs and tourists. Amongst these, Guy van Strydonck has had the good fortune as royal guest to travel the length and breadth of the kingdom, recording the land and its people. For centuries, monks and refugees from Tibet have settled in Bhutan's hospitable and fertile valleys and ensured close cultural links between the countries. Because of different socio-economic conditions, Bhutan soon developed a highly distinctive culture of its own, and it is the purpose of this book to introduce the reader not only to its magnificent and varied landscapes, but also to the genius of Bhutan's rich traditions of art and architecture. Other chapters in the book focus on monastic and village life, their festivals and dances. A whole chapter is devoted to the hitherto unknown valley of Sakteng in the extreme east, homeland to the yak-herding "brokpas". The book concludes with a portrait of the Bhutanese themselves, a hardy mountain people renowned both for thie irrepresible good humour and for their profound spirit of Buddhist tolerance.
07/06/24
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hannahssimblr · 3 months
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A sliver of light hovers above the horizon. A glow, hardly even there, rests atop the sea as waves drag rounded pebbles along the shore with a soft shh. I can’t sleep. I crawled out of bed after three and walked straight to the water's edge without shoes, to find the sand cool and white beneath the glow of the quarter moon. I sit watching the sun graze the bottom of the sky like paint bleeding onto tissue. 
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Sleep evades me sometimes for reasons I cannot explain. Insomnia arrives like this. It's like all those intense feelings and urges in my body. I can't verbalise them. I sit in boxer shorts and a hoodie on this final spit of beach before the coast turns to a cliff, and try to think of some poignant reason for my lack of sleep, only to come up with everything. There are a million reasons why. All the time, all at once, but then why only sometimes? And why tonight in particular?
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Sometime around four, I change into a pair of shorts and run the length of the beach as the sun rises, pushing myself until sweat rolls from my body and there is fire in my lungs. I return to my end of the beach on shaky legs and take my clothes off, all of them, because the beach house is quiet and nobody is watching. Then I wade into the sea and float there with the waves lapping under my chin until the early birds sing and my hands and feet go numb. 
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After a shower I collapse on my bed and sleep until close to midday, when I wake up to an empty house, starving, and with no food in the fridge. There is a message on my phone from Jen. 
Good morning lazy bones  Gone to the tennis court and then we’ll be on the beach, probably  See you around later? 
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I forage the cupboards for something, but by the looks of it, the last of the food has been ravaged by the others, leaving nothing behind but crumbs and dirty plates, stacked up in the sink as usual. Someone should clean that eventually. 
When I locate my wallet among the random books and electronics heaped on the kitchen table, I zip open the coin pocket to find just a twenty-cent piece and a few useless coppers. I used the last of the money on my debit card at the petrol station yesterday. I know because I tried to buy some snacks and the only thing I could afford was cherry cola Tic Tacs which were rationed out between the three of us. I swear under my breath and call my dad. 
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He’s already pissed off when he picks up. 
“Jude, what is it? I’m in the middle of something.”
“I need more money.”
“Already? What are you doing down there? I bet you’re putting it all into those stupid arcade machines, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m eighteen years old. I’m not doing that.” I’m also banned from the arcade, which he should know after the interminable speech he gave me about decorum and respect in the aftermath. 
“I put five hundred euros on that card.”
“Yeah, I dunno, I used it.”
“It was supposed to last the entire summer.”
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I sigh, “It didn’t.” As he’s ranting in my right ear, I begin to wonder what I really did do with all the money. I suppose there was all of the alcohol, the takeaways, the junk food, that PlayStation game I bought, and the earphones for my iPod since I was careless with my old ones on the beach. Oh yeah, and I bought those running shoes too. I suppose that wasn’t a necessary purchase, I just wanted them.
Yesterday I bought everything for Jen and Evie, all of their tickets, food and drinks… I have a vague, passing thought that I might not be very good at managing money and that maybe I should have done accounting or something at school like my mom suggested instead of randomly choosing geography. I’m also aware that it’s completely fine. Once Christopher has finished going on about it he’ll simply send more. We just have to go through this charade first.
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I wait for a gap in his mad diatribe and say casually, “So can you send me some?”
There’s a clatter in the background and I imagine him tossing his little weighty engraved silver pen across his desk. He grits his teeth, “What do you need?”
“I dunno, another few hundred. I want to book tickets to this festival in August, too, I think they’re, like, two-fifty, so.”
“A festival?” He really doesn't need to act like we’re discussing satanic rituals, but I continue as though I'm talking to a normal man. 
“Yeah, I want to enjoy my last summer in Ireland and all that.”
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He makes some flabbergasted sound in response, which is obviously stupid because he has all the money in the world, and this whole thing is an exercise in control and power.
“So, a thousand?” I venture, resting my phone on my shoulder so I can pick some dirt out from under my nails. 
“Yes. Later.”
“No, I need it now, there’s no food in the house and I’m hungry.”
He taps furiously on the keyboard of his computer, “Fine.”
“Hm?”
“Fine. I said fine. I’m transferring it.”
“Thanks.”
The line goes dead. 
Beginning // Prev // Next
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dear-mrs-otome · 8 months
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Chapter One - Ansare
Pairing: Silvio Ricci x Emma...eventually Word Count: 2.1k+/??? Author's Note: If Cybird won't give me a proper Beauty and the Beast story, I'll write it myself. This is a slowburn fairytale AU that hews closely to canon, but veers when needed.
Summary: A curse, of sorts. A rose, of sorts. And one prince's long, tangled journey to answer an eternal question...What separates man from beast?
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It all began, as so many things do, with a love poem.
Emma lifted the top off of a crate, and was greeted by the rich waft of old books. Leather and glue and that indescribable patina that only the echo of many long years could leave behind. Wisdom crowning wisdom.
“There’s so many,” she said with amazement as she dug through the first layer of packing straw and pulled a title free. Running careful hands and a practiced eye over the condition of the bindings and the gilt lettering that traipsed up their spines, she began sorting them into loose categories. Histories, the classics, poetry and novels, geography and the sciences. She paused long enough to linger over a detailed map of the continent in one of the gorgeously illustrated atlases, a wistful sigh escaping her.
The bookstore was her life - she knew every nook and cranny of this shop like the back of her hand. Had skinned her knees tripping over the single uneven floorboard in its stacks as a coltish child, had stained the pages of more than one romance with tears while nursing the first tender bruises of young love curled up in the nearby battered armchair. She’d scrimped and saved and squirreled away every penny she could pinch, ever since Akatsuki had handed her the first of her wages, determined to buy it from him one day when he retired. She knew that would make her the happiest woman in the world.
But some days, it was hard not to wonder what was over the jagged rooftops of town, crowded and gnashing the skyline like snaggled teeth. What mysteries might lay just beyond the hills that cradled their city so gently, rolling away towards the horizon as she imagined waves upon the sea must. In her dreams some nights she tasted the salt spray of the ocean, only to awaken, baffled to find it was tears on her tongue.
Some days, it was hard not to wonder if she was settling her future comfortably…or merely settling.
Putting the atlas and those maudlin thoughts aside, a delighted grin stole over her face as she plucked the next book from the box, a slim volume of poetry with an aging, cracked cover and worn edges. The obscure missing volume in her exhaustive collection of Benitoitian sonnets. She flipped eagerly through the pages, her gaze devouring the metered lines upon them, lingering over one poem in particular that was redolent with the bittersweetness of longing. “You found it! You actually found it! Is that what took you so long this time?”
“Partly. I didn’t want to disappoint you, not when you’ve been looking to round out that collection for so long.” Akatsuki’s ever-stoic face thawed with the first hint of a smile as he wove a far defter path through the piles she was creating than one would expect from a man of his years. But then again, the passing of time never seemed to touch him, she’d noticed, beyond kissing a few more strands of silver into his dark head of hair. He still moved as spryly as men a third his age, and had never in all of her years of working for him ever taken a single day off ill. “And partly I was busy with business meetings.”
“Business meetings?” She slipped a bookmark at the page with the poem that had caught her eye and looked up, wrinkling her nose at the implications of that. “Oh, no. No. Don’t tell me that means-”
The rest of her sentence was robbed by a resounding crash, the deafening clatter of a door thrown open - or rather, kicked open, as she knew better than to believe otherwise of the man who sauntered in. The violence of his entrance setting one of her nearby newly built towers of books swaying precariously. 
“-Him,” she finished flatly, before plastering on a smile even more obviously fake than the forgotten vase of forlorn silk orchids gathering dust in a nearby corner. “Welcome in, Your Highness. Thank you for testing the resilience of our hinges. Again.”
His Highness in question - Silvio Ricci, the crown prince of Benitoite - drew to a halt and spared her a scathing look, shaking his fur-lined cloak back imperiously. “I’d start charging for the service, but there’s no way in hell this dump could afford me.”
“Strange. For being such a ‘dump’, it sure seems to keep you coming back,” she returned fire, cloyingly sweet, before forcing herself to take a deep breath. She would not let this goblin masquerading as royalty get under her skin and ruin the high of a delivery day. Not this time.
He snorted. “It’s the impeccable customer service, clearly.”
She ground her teeth together and shot Akatsuki a pleading look, noticing the amusement that clung to the wrinkles fanned around his eyes as his attention bounced between the two of them. Spectating his favorite sport. 
“Prince Silvio,” Akatsuki said at last, wading into the fray.
Dismissing her, the prince turned a dauntless, charming grin on the man who owned the shop, and she did her best to ignore the nip of envy that inspired. 
He’d never smiled once at her like that. But then, why did she possibly care?
“Signore.” Prince Silvio inclined his head ever-so-slightly in the older man’s direction. “I trust you found the details of the documents I had couriered to you acceptable?”
“Well, yes. But I…” He broke off, and his gaze bounced off Emma before landing back on Silvio. “Wasn’t expecting you quite this soon. I had hoped for a bit more time to explain things.”
“Explain what?” Emma interjected, unease a cool hand curling fingers around her stomach.
Akatsuki seemed at a loss a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Circumstances being what they are and all…”
 Silvio made an exasperated sound that bordered on rude. “This bookstore is the second-most profitable one in the city. I could make it number one.” He paused a moment, and lifted his chin imperiously. “I will make it number one.”
Emma shook her head. “We don’t need any advice from the likes of you. I’m certain.”
“You may not want it, but you’re getting it. And it won’t be advice…it’ll be orders.”
“Says who?” she countered, eyes narrowed in challenge.
“Me. The soon-to-be owner of this enormous heap of paper.”
She’d heard the words, but they rang hollow, refusing to make sense. She whirled towards Akatsuki as if he might somehow be able to translate. 
He had the good grace to wince. “Emma, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out. But I’m not getting any younger, and the traveling of a merchant’s life gets harder and harder every year.”
“So you sold the store to Prince Silvio? Of all people, him? But…” She’d never felt betrayal before, but this nausea that clawed acrid at the back of her throat couldn’t be anything else. “I was going to buy it.” 
The forlorn admission slipped free before she had time to snatch it back, falling helplessly to the ground. A fledgling taken to wing too soon.
Silvio blinked, and chortled. “You? You were going to buy the shop?" 
Her cheeks stung pink at the slap of his incredulous laugh. “Yes, me.”
“You wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business like this,” he scoffed.
She shook her head fiercely. “No, you wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business like this. Could you recognize an incunable if you saw one? Do you have the faintest idea what an octavo is? Or who Madame Rochefort’s favorite author is? What genre you can sell Monsieur Martin on without fail when he comes by every Tuesday afternoon? All you see is coin to be made. Numbers in a ledger. Profit and loss. Not people. And certainly not their stories.”
“This ain’t a library, lady. It’s right there in the name - bookstore.” He paused, as if considering something. “Although, if you’re so eager to make sure things are done in a certain way, I suppose I could let you keep your job.”
“Let me…” A logjam of words crowded her throat for a moment, indignities all clamoring for space at once until one finally jostled free. “You want me to work for you?”
A petty smile slanted his lips. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it.”
That expression of his was like a door being thrown open on a smoldering fire. Rage exploded through her in a backdraft, a mindless wave of fire and fury that vaporized the calm logic she prided herself on. “Listen to me, you tacky, tasteless, tawdry, tinsel-clad affront to the eyes. I wouldn’t work for you if you were the last thing standing between me and utter destitution.”
Answering sparks flew from a blue gaze turned flinty, as the blood drained from his face. “That could be arranged. One word from me, and I could make it so that you never work in this city again.”
Her mouth fell open, eyes stinging from the salt he had just rubbed into every last one of her open wounds. “And now you think you can threaten me into keeping the job that I already have? All while you buy the shop I already planned to?”
“Oh, I don’t think I can.” His grin was more a macabre baring of teeth than any thing of mirth. The snarl of a hound treeing its quarry. “I know I can.”
“Forget it. You can own this shop, you can own this city. You can own this whole damn country. But you will never, ever own me.” The world had gone strange around her, red and wavering, like water spilled through wet paint. It took her three tries to see through it well enough to snatch up her book of poems from the top of the pile. “I quit.”
It occurred to her, as she took her first wobbly step towards the door, that it might have hurt less to have simply driven her paper-knife into her own heart. She clutched the book tightly to her chest, as if it could staunch the blood she swore poured from some wretched wound, though her blouse remained as pristine as ever.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His snarl stopped her in her tracks, but she didn’t do him the courtesy of turning around to reply. Etiquette when dealing with royalty be damned.
“I’m leaving. Like I said, I quit. Have a nice life, Your Highness.”
He lunged forward, snatching at the book she held. “You can’t just walk out. That’s store property. Which means it’s my property now.” They tussled over the tome, wrestling, neither willing to back down - until finally it fumbled from their grasp and fell to the ground, open to the page she’d slipped her bookmark in.
They both dove for it at the same time, the childish squabble continuing until they were brought up short by the harsh sound of tearing paper, freezing where they stood.
Emma forced herself to look down, dread a swallowed lump of lead sitting queasy in her stomach. Gaze shifting from the book in her hands to the page now crumpled in Silvio’s fist, a forlorn flap of ragged paper still standing accusatory in the spine she held. 
“Look what you’ve done,” she managed, through lips gone stiff and numb.
“What I’ve done? You started this. If you’d just handed over the book - or better yet, not thrown a tantrum and tried storming out - this wouldn’t have happened at all,” he retorted fiercely. But when she found herself at a loss for any sort of response, and the silence drew out long and stilted and awful, he thrust the rumpled page at her abruptly. Refusing to meet her eyes. “Here.”
She glanced down at it, and let out a humorless laugh. It was the only reaction she could muster when she saw familiar words of poetry between his fingers. The exact one that had warranted a bookmark from her in the first place.
Would I could come, O lovely one, to you just in a thief’s disguise, unknown to all!
It figured that he'd manage to ruin even this for her, too.
“I bought this book. It belongs to me. Akatsuki’s been looking for it for me for almost five years now. But you know what? Keep the page, and the poem. My parting gift to you,” she told him, no longer trying to keep the bitterness coating her tongue from seeping into her words. She was too sick with it, choking on the wretched feast as she ever-so-carefully closed the book. Ever-so-carefully tucked it under her arm, before flinging a razor edged glare at him like a flechette. “It’s the closest to love you’ll ever get, Your Highness.”
He flinched, as if struck, but made no reply. Made no other movement at all, as she left him holding those words and walked out.
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If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, let me know!
(Dividers courtesy of @/cafekitsune, header image commissioned from @/sbeep)
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sysakiddo · 11 months
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here we are, fourth one already 😭 Max is really pushing my agenda with all of his geography knowledge in all the grill the grid videos and the freaking Time interview. all the love to @123pixieaod for her amazing feedback 💓
1, 2, 3
The terrace has a beautiful wooden floor and an enormous swimming pool, both something Daniel mentioned as pros when they were deciding on buying a villa in Èze. Ultimately, it all came down to the three mulberry trees growing on the right side of the garden. Max has never fully explained his obsession with the mulberries, but it was enough for him to buy the villa even without the other positives.
When Charles visited the estate for the first time, he and Max spent hours picking the mulberries and climbing up the trees like little kids. That confirmed Daniel's suspicion it had something to do with Max's childhood, even though it was one of the rare instances when Charles refused to dish out Max's secrets.
The housewarming gift from their friends, the enormous table made of teak, made the terrace look like a paradise. The first evening together, they sit around it with glasses of wine Daniel insisted on choosing. Max is reading and only half-listening to Charles and Alex's conversation at the other side of the table. Seb looks like he is about to fall asleep on the chair beside him.
"That's like you and the mysterious metro guy!" Charles laughs, interrupting everyone with a loud exclamation. He points his glass of pastis in Max's direction, who has no idea what brought them here.
Max, embarrassingly, feels blood rush to his cheeks. "Shut up," he grumbles. "Who invited you again?"
Max did. He sent him a text that only said, 'Eze 12-19 July'. Charles sent back a thumbs up and called Daniel a week later for details he knew Max wouldn't be willing to share.
Daniel looks up from his phone, dripping water everywhere with the movement. He got out of the pool merely minutes before, enjoying the coolness of the water after the long, hot day of travelling they had. Max's blush stuns him. "Metro guy?"
Charles gasps theatrically, smiling so wide his dimples are showing in their full force. "Noo," he drawls gleefully. He basks in any opportunity to make Max uncomfortable. "Max Verstappen, you did not tell your husband about the metro guy?"
Daniel sighs, putting his hand over his heart, getting into the play Charles sets up. "Baby, am I the other man?"
Giggles break out around the table, everybody watching them by now.
"There's nothing to tell you, Daniel. And you-" Max says sternly, pointing his finger at Charles, whose shoulders shake with giggles. "Shut the fuck up before I-"
"When we were interns in Stockholm-" Charles interrupts him, looking at Daniel meaningfully while he starts with the story.
"This is embarrassing, Charles." Max rolls his eyes, but Charles doesn't react. He feeds off Max's despair. When he breathes in to continue, Max takes the precautionary measure and quickly asks him, "Have you told Sebastian who you were with when you broke your hand?"
Charles' smile dims. Sebastian opens one eye and squints at them with poorly hidden curiosity. He asked Charles about the incident many times and never got anything but empty words and white lies. He should have figured out that Max would know what really happened.
"You are no fun, Max. The most annoyingly serious man ever. I don't know how you put up with him." he turns to Daniel with the last sentence, who is still looking at him expectantly.
"I want to hear the story!"
Max huffs, crossing his arms. "I am not that serious."
Charles clicks his tongue loudly, taking another sip of his anise liquor. "You're reading Kissinger on a vacation." Max yelps, offended. He closes the book and cringes at the loud thud. The noise feels incriminating.
"Well, sorry that I'm not creaming my pants over Édouard Louis," He says, scoffing at the book someone sat aside on the table.
"Sick burn, Max." Daniel deadpans. "You were reading The Hunger Games last week." Max, betrayed, frowns at him.
"And you liked Barbie better than Oppenheimer, so fuck off."
Alex looks up from his place on the lounger, basking in the sun. "We were supposed to like Oppenheimer?"
George wants to join the conversation, too. "Kissinger is one hundred years old, there is no way he wrote that book himself. AI is crazy these days."
"You should ask Max about his well-being, they are all buddy-buddy with each other. Right, Max? Having dinner with him every time you cross the ocean?" Alex is laughing, joining the fest of kicking Max while he's down.
Charles smirks, seeing another opening. "Maybe Daniel isn't the only old man Max is fucking."
Sebastian opens his eyes and frowns at the younger man. "Charles, that's enough. Don't be mean now." The look on Charles' face makes Max laugh gleefully.
"Yeah, Charles, don't be mean," he parrots. He never claimed he wasn't petty. Daniel kicks his leg under the table, shaking his head subtly.
Max deflates a little, returning to his book without saying anything else. Sebastian catches Daniel's look and mouths kids.
Daniel has to bring his wine glass to his lips so he doesn't start laughing. "When will the intern arrive?" he asks to change the subject.
"Who?"
"Max wants to adopt an intern."
Seb hums appreciatively. "It's about time you two get children."
"Her name is Anne, Daniel, and she's, of course, too old for me to adopt." Max says sternly. "She's going to come tomorrow morning. And Pierre is bringing an intern, too!"
Charles nods, clicking his tongue. "He's probably fucking her, though."
Daniel gags. "I thought he was dating the model? The one from Vogue?" Max and Charles shake their heads almost synchronically, always ready to gossip.
"What about you, Charles? Are you doing Vogue next?" Alex moves to an empty chair behind the table, cutting a piece of cheese someone laid out on it.
Charles, uncharacteristically, blushes. "No, that was a one-time thing."
In their group chat, his photo on the Time magazine cover worked as a meme by now. Max made fun of Charles for it ruthlessly, but Daniel knew he kept talking about how great it was that Mr Leclerc was finally getting the recognition he deserved to anyone who would listen to him.
Seb stands up and removes his shirt, padding off to the pool. Charles' eyes don't leave him once.
"On the other hand, I'd be willing to do Vogue if it meant getting out of that shithole." Naturally, Charles wanted everything Max had—a career of ages and a much older boyfriend. Alex smiles encouragingly, "Brussels is not that bad."
"Working in the Commission is a great opportunity, Charles," Max says, and Charles scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. He can’t stand their pity. "Seriously! I would if my husband wasn't solar- powered." he points at Daniel. "Two weeks in Belgian weather, and he withers away."
Everyone laughs, Max's words striking even more true now that Daniel is trying to soak up the sun shirtless on the chair next to them.
"Oh, Max," Charles slaps his hand down on the table, disappointed he forgot to mention this sooner. "I'm going to Amsterdam around the 28th. Care to join?"
Max's whole demeanour changes. "I can't, I'll be in Cairo, sorry."
Charles shrugs and tries to sneak away a piece of cheese Alex has cut for himself. Daniel kicks Max's leg, but the other man pointedly doesn't react.
"What's wrong with him?" he points his finger at Seb.
Everyone turns around, the distraction working perfectly. Sebastian is face down on a floatie, beer in his hand. He lazily kicks out once in a while, which just makes the scene even more grotesque.
"Seb? Are you planning on pulling a Kendall Roy over there?" Charles yells out, his eyebrows furrowed behind his designer sunglasses.
And because Sebastian is the only person left in the world who hasn’t watched Succession yet, his only reply is a mumbled, "Was?"
"He has been like this since he transferred to NATO," George says knowingly.
Charles slaps his hand down on the table. "See? Fucking Brussels."
|
Max gets out of the room at sunrise. He likes to run through the village while the other people start waking up. Daniel stirs when he comes out of the shower an hour later but doesn’t make any effort to actually wake up. He is fine with dozing off, naked, under the satin sheets.
"Daniel, me and Charles are going to the racetrack. Do you want to join us?"
Daniel knows they are even more insufferable while competing, but that's not the only reason why he shakes his head no. He can now distinguish the noise filtering inside from the street as Charles revving his Ferrari.
He feels the bed dip beside his hip, and with his eyes closed, he flinches a little when Max's fingers trail lightly over his nose, cheekbones, the soft skin under his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asks, more quietly now.
"Yeah," he opens one eye. "I'm just not feeling great. I think it would be better if I slept a bit more."
"Are you feeling bad again? What do you need me to do?" Max looks frenzied now, worry setting in his features.
Max is not stupid, noticing things about Daniel only the person who loves you can notice. How he doesn't even try sleeping without taking ten milligrams of melatonin and still trashing for a decent hour before he manages to fall asleep, or how he keeps playing with the food on his plate without really eating anything, or how he hasn't returned his mom's calls in a solid month. So, of course, he can tell Daniel is getting bad again.
Daniel suddenly feels like a dick, all of the memories from when he couldn't even get out of bed under the heavy baggage on his shoulders come flying into his head.
Max's hand travels further down his face, eventually wrapping his fingers around Daniel's throat. A muscle memory. That way, he feels his Adam's apple bobbing when he asks, "Why did you not tell me you're going to Cairo?"
"Why would I? So you could come with me?" he asks sarcastically. Daniel huffs, slaps Max's hand away.
"Oh, yes, I think his excellency Verstappen would love to have a lovely lunch with his son's husband."
Max physically recoils on the bed like he's been slapped. Max wasn't fed love on a silver spoon during childhood like Daniel. That's why he learned to lick it off knives.
"I'm not having this conversation right now,"
Daniel speaks again before Max can stand up and walk away. "Your therapist said spending time with him is not good for you." At least that's what Max said when explaining why he did not invite Jos to their anniversary celebration.
"She doesn't know shit."
Daniel sits up, anger spiking his veins with thousands of blades. "Max, mate. Everyone and their mother has read the fucking Guardian interview, so maybe knowing him calling you a failure made it on the front page is enough!"
"Fuck you, Daniel. Seriously, fuck you." If he knew him less, Max would easily believe Daniel had never read the interview. This is the first time Daniel mentions it. "I wanted to tell him about Beijing, so thank you for your fucking support!"
This time, Daniel just watches Max leave.
next part
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rosewaterandivy · 1 year
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c'mon barbie, let's go party
summary: steve harrington learns to embrace his kenergy with a little help from his friends.
a/n: in honor of barbenheimer today, please enjoy steve's newfound kenergy in the kids aren't alright cinematic universe. that being said, you can absolutely read this as a stand alone too! i'm seeing barbie later tonight, so mentions of the plot are vague and culled from the teasers and trailers - any and all mistakes are my own! feel free to yell at me in about this in my ask box et al. i'm at the tattoo shop for the foreseeable future and need some enrichment in my enclosure. Reblogs, feedback, and likes are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜
p.s. sneaky peak at eddie and his gf from my upcoming series notes on a scene 👀
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steve had it all planned out - made the appointment himself and triple-checked that your schedule was clear for the day. circled it on the communal calendar in the kitchen double-feature: barbenheimer.
the group chat had been made aware and eddie's girlfriend, inexplicably known as princess, had taken it upon herself to buy tickets for the gang, therefore dictating the order in which the films would be seen (film teachers, am i right?). oppenheimer first, which steve would suffer through - historical films were always difficult for him to get through due to the anachronisms, and ending with the pièce de résistance: barbie.
you were swamped with grad school classes (having applied over the spring and started your courses this past summer) and steve wanted to treat you to something nice and relaxing. and a trip to the nail salon would have been just the thing, if not for eddie & princess crashing it.
luckily, you didn't seem to mind and were happily ensconced in your chair waiting on your nail tech. you'd brought your own color, because you're picky like that, and let steve, and then eddie and his girlfriend (out of necessity), sort through your collection too.
he'd settled on something called a midsummer's dream from that one brand you liked (there seemed to be a package from them every few weeks or so), thinking it would compliment your choice of arcade monster quite nicely; a little sweet and a little sour.
"manicure and pedicure?" the woman at the front desk had asked. steve clarified that the mani/pedi would be for the ladies, while eddie and himself would just get the pedicures. though the chipped black polish on ed's nails was becoming unsightly.
but despite doing so, steve somehow found himself moved from the pedi bath over to a nail table and seated right next to you. you looked up from your reading (Prisoners of Geography by Tim Marshall, steve's suggestion) and quirked a brow. "whatcha doin'?"
"sitting here, i guess."
you smirk, "sure thing, babe," and go back to your book.
so when a well-meaning woman grabs his hand and places it in a bowl of water while asking about his color choice, he doesn't know how to respond. he could've sworn he just said a pedicure for him and eds, but when he looks down the row and finds eddie in rapt conversation with his nail tech about god knows what as she removes his chipped black polish, he's no longer quite as sure.
"psst."
he looks over to you, seeing an ill-attempt to repress your laughter. "you don't have to get a polish if you don't want to." and it's sweet, you're sweet for thinking of him and his comfort when this was supposed to be all about you and yours.
steve shrugs, "might as well at this point," and hands her the bottle of pinky-blue iridescent polish.
you tuck your chin toward your chest with a grin, teeth flashing bright against the pink of your lips. "a very nice use of kenergy, steve. gosling would be proud."
💅💅💅
your nails flash green-gold in the sun, a nice contrast against the magenta base polish. you’re sipping from a s’mores milkshake from the ice cream parlor after the nail appointment, eddie having spied it a few stores down.
("it's too hot to argue, harrington," eddie groused, but not before grabbing steve's hands to examine his manicure. "dude, that color is sick on you!")
“s’nice color honey,” steve says, pausing to drink from the milkshake when you passed it over to him. the cool blend of chocolate and marshmallows with graham cracker chunks hits his tongue as you send a deilvish wink his way.
“thanks baby,” your tongue glides against the full of your bottom lip, collecting a bit of chocolate. checking to see that eddie and princess are out of earshot, you pull him in by the belt loops.
“think they’ll look as nice wrapped around your cock later?” you rasp, voice dropping to a low whisper.
steve shudders at the husky sound of your voice and nearly chokes on the milkshake in response, flustered and blushing. your laughter rings out in the afternoon heat, as bright as the sun shining above.
you kiss him for good measure, lips cool and sweet, before catching up to eddie and his girlfriend a few paces ahead. and all steve can do is watch after you, struck dumb by his girl with her quick tongue and wicked words.
he gets it later that evening seeing barbie when they say: “she’s barbie, and he’s just ken.”
you did not tell a lie when you said to princess all those months ago, that ken would end up being steve’s ‘literally me’ character. truthfully, he’s just glad to end up with his dreamgirl.
and yeah, your nails looked just as pretty later that night. as did his when you fell apart on his fingers. a flash of blue in the dim light when his hands dug into the soft flesh of your hips— you coming with a ragged cry on his cock, face buried against the pillows of your bed.
steve may be “just ken” but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. not when he’s got a barbie like you.
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Note
Any advice to write your own quotes that is not so common?
Learning to Write Memorable/Quotable Prose
As readers, we know there are few things better than reading a quote that hits in all the right ways...
"The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections." —Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me
“Brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you go on even though you’re scared.” —Angie Thomas, The Hate U Give
As writers, part of the dream is to be able to craft quotes that resonate with our readers like that... quotes that will be quoted... quotes that will be remembered.
Unfortunately, learning to write quotable prose isn't something you can do immediately just by following a few tips. It requires a few thing that take some time...
1 - A Fertile Mind - A big part of being able to write quotable prose is having a fertile mind... or in other words, giving your brain all the right elements it needs to be able to produce quotable prose. Here are some things you can do to encourage a fertile mind:
-- Filling Your Creative Well ensures that your brain is full of words, ideas, and imagery that will help you think up memorable quotes.
-- Improve your vocabulary by using a thesaurus (just make sure to cross-reference with a dictionary), subscribing to Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day e-mails, buying a "word of the day" desk calendar, using a reference like The Describer's Dictionary or the Random House Word Menu, and reading as much as you can--books, short stories, poetry, magazines, blog posts, song lyrics, anything you can get your hands on. Read through lists of vocabulary related to specific things, like geography, weather, architecture, travel, etc. Keep a journal of new words and their meanings as well as words that resonate with you.
-- Bring out your inner poet by reading poetry (there's a ton of poetry available for free online), reading song lyrics, and trying to write your own poetry.
-- Fill your mind with beautiful imagery by traveling... in person, if you can, but if you can't, YouTube makes it super easy to be an armchair traveler. There are countless beautiful videos of every place on Earth you could ever want to visit. There are travel documentaries, montages of beautiful scenery, walk-throughs, and tours. You can also go to a photo site like Pexels or Pixabay and type in random imagery terms like "mountains" or "starry night" and see what images come up. Save the ones that speak to you most in a pretty folder.
2 - Practice - Even with a full creative well and fertile mind, you're still not going to be able to instantly craft beautiful prose or memorable quotes. You still need to hone this skill through lots of practice. That's going to mean trying to craft beautiful prose and memorable quotes, which is going to mean writing a lot of not-so-great ones before they get better and better. Try looking at some of those pretty images you saved and see if you can write some pretty quotes about them. Look at the list of interesting vocabulary you saved and see if you can use any of it to craft a pretty quote. Take a pretty line of poetry or a evocative song lyric and try to craft it into a memorable quote. And more than anything else... just write your stories and always try to craft beautiful prose and memorable sentences. The more you try, the better you'll get.
3 - Have a story that merits pretty prose and memorable quotes - The truth of the matter is that even if you do everything listed above, you still won't be able to craft pretty prose and memorable quotes unless your story provides you the necessary raw materials. You need an engaging plot, compelling characters, interesting themes, quote-worthy imagery in plot elements and setting, and both characters and circumstances where memorable quotes make sense.
If you do all of these things, though, you'll be writing pretty prose and memorable quotes in no time! ♥
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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