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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

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How Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo would react to their S/O in the hospital

Hi, anon! You are welcome to join my Discord Server if you are a fan of Hxh, Voltron, or both! I promise this is a safe environment! This is an interesting topic for sure! To the other anon(s), I am working on your request! This will contain both fluff and angst. I forgot to include Leorio in this, so I’ll include him in the next HxH post. You’ll have to forgive me, I have 2 more requests in my inbox and I am not feeling the best. I just got my second Covid shot and it is hurting like hell. Nevertheless, I encourage you all to get your shot if you can. I will be on this site one and off and I should be on it for real next week. I have run out of ideas to write and I began to think I was annoying people with my HxH content (no one said this I just assumed). This post has 1974 words. After these requests are finished, I plan on doing a character analysis for Leorio.

Anyway, let’s get into the post!

We’ll start with Hisoka this time.

Hisoka

In all honesty, this man has heard of a hospital (since he sends a lot of people to it after fights) but has never been in one.

The signs, floors, staircase numbers, and elevators all confuse him. He has only been in one once when he was a kid and has never been again.

He isn’t a social butterfly in this setting because this is a professional establishment and not a college party. Asking for directions takes quite a toll on him because of his established pride. You know guys act when they want to find a destination on their own and will go miles out of the way instead of just asking for direction.

He doesn’t talk to anyone; all he wants to do is find you and make sure you are alright.

He is the tallest person in the freight elevator. So tall that everyone at turns to look at him at once for at least 10 seconds and turn back around surprised.

“How tall is he,” one of the nurses ask.

“Tall enough to be my house!”

This annoys him. He takes out the Joker card and lays it against his thigh but realizes he cannot make any hasty decisions. His bloodlust was activated merely out of irritation and not by threat. You were on his mind and destroying these worthless humans wasn’t an option for today.

He approached the guest desk and waited for about 2 minutes before he was acknowledged.

“May I help you,” a smug receptionist asked. Wow, these people do not know who they’re talking to.

“I’m here to see y/n.”

“Y/n is in room 345. Go down the hall and to the right all the way down.”

This man nearly ran with a quickness! His jester shoes somehow made the floor shake as he ran.

You were awake, eating the horrible food the hospital provided and watching TV. It seemed like you were doing ok, but you had just been in a car accident. Your arms and right leg were still sore. It was so bad that you’d be fine with Hisoka carrying you everywhere.

When you two are alone in serious public places, he doesn’t play games or tricks. He is often portrayed as a ruthless man, but in settings like this, he places the jokes and games aside for later. When he enters your room, he is silent for 30 seconds. Much too long. He was shocked; he walked around your hospital bed, pulled up a chair, and stared at your cast. It had many names written on it.

“Yes, I am ok.”

“I apologize for not being there for you,” he began to say.

“Shh… it’s ok. This is life. It hurts like hell, but I’m a trooper!”

Admiring your cast and its multiple fonts of handwriting and messages, he grabbed a sharpie marker, wrote his name, with a heart and spade next to it. Surprisingly, his cursive was very neat and legible.

“I didn’t know you knew how to write in cursive! Why don’t you write me letters?”

“I see you every day and it hurts my hand.”

The doctor wouldn’t be in for another 1 ½ hours, so Hisoka used your thigh as a pillow as he took a nap. He had been up for countless nights thinking about you. He was screwing up so bad, Chrollo let him leave early.

“As soon as your better, we will fight again. I won’t go easy on you. You won’t be in the hospital but you get the jest.”

Illumi

Illumi isn’t the type of man to overreact in these types of situations. When you both agreed to date each other, you knew you all were tough cookies. You were aware of the dangers of dating an assassin and he knew about the dangers of dating a bounty hunter. People hated you both and you targeted.

One night you both were caught in a vulnerable state. While you both enjoyed chocolate milkshakes at a laid-back 1950’s styled diner, two men were previously thrown out for fighting. While your back was turned one of those men shot your arm, causing you to carelessly throw your body to the ground due to impact.

While everyone else was screaming, Illumi jumped to the ground and tied his hair tie around your arm to temporarily stop the bleeding.

“Illu, why does it feel cold in here,” you managed to breathe out.

His heart dropped to his stomach for the first time in history.

“Don’t say things like that!”

Illumi is already horrible at displaying emotions, but all he could do is frown in fear. Once the EMS came barling in, he demanded that he ride with you.

Illumi hadn’t experienced anything like this since Killua had been injured when he fell from a tree.

You and he were separated when you were rushed into surgery leaving him alone in the waiting room.

When Illumi is stressed and cannot properly display how he feels, he tends to act in “odd” ways.

He begins to furiously turn pages in magazines or bother the receptions every 2 minutes about the status of your surgery. When the woman finally says that you’re still alive, he tones it down a little.

Illumi is open to conforming advice from strangers; he has been receiving it secretly from strangers. Since Silva was busy abusing him, he often found comfort from “the streets”.

He has a bad habit of pacing back and forth and fidgeting in his seat while horrific images fill his mind. All he has seen is pain and even though he was used to it, he didn’t want you to go through it as well.

While sitting in his seat (finally!) and head in his lap, doubled over indescribable sorrow, a little girl walks up to him with her hands folded and a doll under her arms. Illumi feels her presence and looks up. The girl’s curly hair covered her endearing eyes and her smile is wide.

“They’ll be alright. I just know they will,” turning around returning to her mother, the girl said with confidence.

On cue, Illumi placed his hand over his heart, smiling just a little.

He walked quickly to your room once you were out of surgery.

His speed walk mimics one of a soldier; his left arm in since with his right leg. His shoes echoed throughout the hall.

As soon as he enters the room, he shuts the door harder than usual and gives you a tight embrace. This surprises you! You’re lucky if he lays his head on your shoulder!

Illumi had been working out lately. He wanted to beat you in the “squish the melon” contest. He is very competitive and even if he lost, that doesn’t hurt his ego. Not in the slightest. Since it was just the both of you alone, he bends down to hug you tight, so tight that your face is squished against his.

This behavior is only surprising because he usually doesn’t coddle you even when you get hurt, but this time he realized that you could have died from the gunshot wound.

After that he kissed your forehead and almost simultaneously the doctor barreled in just missing the sweet moment between you and your beau.

Chrollo

When Chrollo is holding meetings with the Phantom Troupe, he always appears to be neutral. That is very important. A leader has to show strength even through the worst/hurtful times of their lives.

Chrollo had gotten a call from Nobunaga that you had gotten hurt on a mission and had actually gotten captured by the enemy. Phinks was able to get you back but you suffered horrible injuries.

This is protocol; they do this for any of the members. The troupe was oblivious to the fact that you and Chrollo were dating. They thought you were here to replace Uvo.

In situations like this, he is calm on the outside but screaming on the inside. Common sense will tell you if you are startled by the news you’ve just received and you begin to drive, you could cause more harm on the way to your destination.

Chrollo is very silent; he doesn’t call to check on your status or anything; he would rather see it for himself.

You were a trooper! After all, you are dating a dangerous robber.

Chrollo already knew what room you were in so he just went.

“I knew I should have kept y/n by my side. Y/n insisted on doing my dirty work that they almost died! How foolish could I have been?” He constantly cursed himself for letting his guard down with you.

He always gave you room to think and complete your own tasks but he can’t help his protective nature; one he has for the troupe but times 10.

His childhood friends had been shot by law enforcers, his home was horrific, and the last thing he needed was for you to be gone. You were keeping him afloat in society.

When he opened the door, Phinks was sitting in a chair, one leg over the other, laughing at a TikTok video.

Nobunaga on the other hand was watching the world news and seemed invested that he didn’t hear Chrollo enter the room. Once they both saw, they stood to their feet.

“Y/n is ok boss. They suffered a few cuts and burns, but they're breathing.”

Chrollo’s straight face remained as he stared at you.

Chrollo’s silence is something the troupe has internalized as a sign of anger, rage, or both. When he didn’t speak and just stared, everyone knew that their next mission was going to be a brutal one.

Chrollo is a man that isn’t afraid to express how he feels. He could cry right now if he wanted to and no one would dare laugh at him or insult him. After all, Nobunaga cried when he realized Uvo was dead.

Nobunaga and Phinks excused themselves as they saw him place his hand over his mouth.

Once the door closed, He pulled up the chair, grabbed your hand, and gently squeezed it. His warmth woke you up instantly and you turned your head. You winced in pain causing Chrollo to jump from his seat, moving to your right side so you wouldn’t turn your head too much.

“I’m glad you're alive, darling. What were you doing putting yourself in danger? Feitan could have handled the beast!”

He isn’t trying to doubt your ability to fight, he’s just concerned for your safety. Even so, why would he insist that you join the spiders?

A tear dropped from his face as he silently kissed your hand three times. You smiled warmly and placed your right left hand on top of his.

“I am fine, boss. You need not worry. I’m a trooper, remember?”

He placed your hand against his dry cheek and continued to kiss it. You were his lifeline and he wanted to spend every moment with you.

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asktheghosthost · 3 years ago

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Homecoming

Jai belongs to @catinabag, and is used with their permission. This was a little drabble gift that kept growing until I finally decided to just finish and post it. It’s a little lengthy, hence the Read More. Enjoy!

Fog was rolling in thick that night, but it wasn't doing much to dissuade the man lumbering along the edge of the road. Occasionally, he'd glance up at a damp street sign, grunt in acknowledgement of it, and keep going. He really wasn't relying on them, anyway. It was an... instinct, a feeling that pulled him to where he needed to be. And the closer he was getting, the stronger the pull became.

"Come to the Square," a voice whispered, simultaneously at his ear and in his brain. "Come to the Square, and you'll be home..."

Home... He hadn't seen home-- hadn't had a home-- in... God, how many decades now? Time had lost all meaning to him.

He tugged his pinstripe jacket closer around him. Fuck it was cold. Wasn't Louisiana supposed to be all muggy and swampy and hot? How many more miles of this did he have to deal with? Was it even worth it? What the hell was he even doing, really--

The honk of a car horn made him turn away from his thoughts. He glared at the car, a dull yellow taxi, as it slowed to a crawl next him. The window rolled down, and a scruffy faced driver leaned over the passenger seat and called out, "Y'all need a ride?"

Standing there, arms stiffly around him, the man hesitated to say anything. "Uh..."

The driver grinned. "Tell you what, brah, if you goin' the same way I am, and it's under five miles, no charge. Lagniappe. Deal?"

The man nodded, and quickly got into the car. "Thanks," he grunted. "'Preciate it."

"No problem, no problem." Pulling away from the road's edge, the driver continued forward. "Y'all ain't from around these parts, are you? What's your name, ami?"

"No," he said, gruffly, shaking his head. "It's Jai. Ghast." He hadn't said his real last name in years. It was almost like saying a foreign word, like his tongue didn't know how to curl around it properly.

The driver let out a short, relieved laugh. "For a moment there, I thought you was gonna say 'Gracey.' Ah, there's a family no one wants any part of. 'Cause of them, most drivers won't make rounds 'round here."

Jai furrowed his brow in confusion. "They a crime syndicate, or something?"

"Non, ami. They're all dead." His grin glinted in the rearview mirror. "Now where you heading to, Monsieur Ghast?"

Go to the Square...

"Um, the Square?" Jai cringed inwardly.

Now it was the driver's turn to look confused. "New Orleans Square?"

Jai pursed his lips and his gray eyes darted from side to side. He wagered, "Yes?"

The driver's grin widened. "You in luck, ami! That's where I be headed to." The cab took off with such force, Jai was pressed back into the seat. "Ol' Gabe, he get you there tout suite!"

Jai's knuckles faded to a pale beige as he gripped the door handle. The vehicle-- and his stomach-- lurched. And then there was a strange sensation under him, or rather, a lack of sensation. It was subtle at first, hard to pin point, and then he realized what it was: there wasn't any road under them. There should have been the familiar pings of grit and gravel under the tires. A steady whoosh from below his feet. There was an eerie whistling, however, and he forced his head to turn to look out the window.

They weren't connected to the road. They weren't connected to anything. Tiny points of lights--streetlights-- barely shown through the mist dozens of feet beneath them.

"The hell! What're you doing, you crazy Cajun?!"

"Why, I'm gettin' you to your destination, of course!" Gabe cackled. Moonlight flashed through him, betraying he was transparent.

Jai let out a heavy sigh and slumped back against the seat. How had he not figured it out? "This some kind of show you put on for tourists?"

"Gotta get my kicks somehow, ami." He gave a good-natured shrug. "Besides, one of us had to let on we was dead."

Jai was quiet for a few seconds. "Fair."

The next few minutes were thankfully uneventful, and the cab touched down on centuries old cobblestone.

Jai didn't open the door right away, instead rolling down the fogged window.

Up ahead loomed a massive, white house, a plantation-style mansion. It shone like a bleached tooth, a beacon in the misty night. The imposing black, wrought iron gate ahead of it was almost easy to miss in comparison. Even easier to miss were the strange, misshapen large stones scattered across the front yard of the property.

"This is the Square?"

"New Orleans Square is the town, but this is the place you need to be. Gracey Manor." Gabe's grin shifted into a gentler smile. "Safe travels, ami. And when you see old Beauregard, you tell him Gabe Guidry says hi."

"Beauregard?"

But Gabe was gone. The cab was gone. Jai was suddenly standing outside that menacing gate. With a long, high creak, it slowly opened, gesturing he should enter.

Jai licked his lips and ran a hand back through his shaggy black hair. Graceys. The dead people.

He straightened his jacket and stepped forward, a dirt path becoming more and more visible under his black leather shoes.

Moving forward, he got a better look at the property. A cement bird bath was to his left. A small pool was in it, but was too dark to see through. Jai had a feeling he'd regret sticking his hand in.

Near the bird bath was a statue of a smug, fluffy Persian cat. This in turn was flanked by multiple tiny bird statues. Nearby were other stone animals--a duck, a snake, a few different dogs, a monkey...

Wait...

The spacing between the animals led him to look at tiny placards under each, which all listed names and dates. This was a pet cemetery!

Cute, he thought. But then it dawned on him what those larger stones were. Who has a house flanked by a graveyard?

Beauregard…

With a new sense of urgency, he bounded up the front steps and barely stopped before gripping the enormous bronze door knocker and slamming it down three times. "Open up." His throat was suddenly tight. Angry tears welled in his eyes. "Open up, you creepy bastard!"

As if responding to his impatience, the door was pulled open with such force, Jai was flung inside. Skidding, he caught himself before he could fall.

A low voice greeted him in the darkness of the foyer. “Welcome, wayward soul.” An unseen hand helped him straighten up.

That voice… Jai knew it. It’d just been so long since he’d heard it. That tightness returned to his throat.

“Beauregard?”

A man appeared in front of him, one who was simultaneously familiar and a stranger. Thin, lanky, like him, with long, shaggy hair, only shock white instead of black. Taller than Jai by a few inches, but he always had been. They stared at one another, jaws agape, eyes wide.

Jai took a couple of unsure steps forward, but the other ran to him, and then flung his arms around him and hugged him so tightly Jai thought he’d never break free.

“My baby brother!” He pulled away, only to hold Jai’s shoulders and look him over. “It’s been so long.” His voice cracked. “You… You look… so grown up.” A tiny sob-chuckle escaped him, but he was grinning.

Jai took a moment to take in some of the new details of his sibling—the pale, blind right eye, and the scarring over it that ran from brow to cheek; the bruising left behind on his thin throat, and its answer, a thick noose that hung loosely under it like some kind of macabre tie. His green coat was threadbare at the shoulders and elbows, and his purple waistcoat was slightly too long. The pinstripe slacks were all right, but his spats were misaligned.

“You look like shit.”

Beauregard laughed and wiped his eyes. “That’s fair.”

“Sorry,” Jai said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess those last few years weren’t so kind to you, huh?”

Beauregard shrugged a shoulder, not denying it, but not providing details, either. “It’s been a long time since then.”

“And you’ve just been here, in this big ol’ house, for…?”

Another shrug. “I’m honestly not sure how long now. I don’t keep track of time anymore. I know I died January twenty-ninth of 1901, at exactly 10:35 p.m. Beyond that…” He pulled out a pocket watch and flashed the face of it at Jai. It had been stopped since his time of death. “Time has lost all meaning for me.”

“So, you’ve been here…”

“Yes.”

“All this time?”

“Yes.”

“You died here?”

“Yes…” Beau was trying not to show the mild annoyance growing at the questions. “What are you getting at?”

Jai suddenly pointed at him accusingly. “You’ve been here, living here, for ages, and you ain’t never tried to contact me even once? Even once!”

Taken aback, Beau sputtered, “Well, you—Who do you think sent out the message for you, hmm? Who do you think led you here?”

“But that was just now! You’ve had literal decades! Decades! Decades that I’ve spent away from the very last little bit of family I had left!” There were tears in his eyes. “If Eulie were here…”

“Eulie is here. This was her house.” Beau looked over his shoulder at the grand staircase leading to the bedrooms above. “I’m surprised she hasn’t come down to investigate the ruckus yet. Her or Dorian…”

Jai took a tiny pause for confusion. “Is that her husband?”

“No, her son.”

“I have a nephew?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “And you all were livin’ in a mansion! And not one of you saw fit to find me?!” Turning on his heel, he headed back to the door.

“Now stop!” Beau bellowed. A chair cut Jai off, knocking him down into it, and it scooted back to Beau. “You disappeared!” Pointing at Jai, Beau floated above the floor. “You were the one who forsake the family! You went off to who-knows-where, while Eulalie and I were dealing with our parents’ funeral expenses, and bank possessing the house, and—” He let out a frustrated groan. Slipping back down to the floor, he slowly exhaled, and started again, in a much calmer tone. “It was like you had fallen off the face of the planet. And… And I knew you were grieving in your own way. By the time we wound up here… H-How was I supposed to find you, Jai?” Beau put a hand on his shoulder, gazing into his eyes, imploring. “When you clearly didn’t want to be found?”

Turning his head aside, Jai looked away. It was true. He hadn’t wanted to be found, not at first. But when he’d found himself deep in trouble, that’s when he’d started thinking about his family and what he’d left behind. Then… Then it was too late. Far too late. You couldn’t scream for your big brother with a mouth full of dirty handkerchief, and lungs full of river water.

Jai blinked, sending tears cascading down his cheeks. “I—I missed you, Beau. I needed you. And—And I couldn’t find you. And I couldn’t face you. Not after what I’d done. I’ve… I’ve done horrible things, Beau. I…”

“Shh,” Beau shushed him. “Do you think I’m proud of this?” He gestured to the noose. “We’ve all done regrettable things, Jai.” Gripping the arms of the chair, he leaned down. “The important thing is we’re back together, eh?” He grinned his cock-eyed grin that always seemed just a little too wide. “The Ghast boys wreaking havoc from beyond the grave!”

Jai allowed himself a small smile. “You mean it? Back together like old times?”

Beau yanked him up, and put an arm around him as he led him further into the mansion. “Not exactly. Far fewer things to worry about now. I’ll give you the tour, and you can tell me everything you’ve been up to.”

“Eh…” Jai rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a tall order.”

“Hm, we have all eternity little brother.” Beau squeezed him to his side.

#drabble #jai #fic #fanfic #short story #story #beau

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that-damn-girl · 5 years ago

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(3) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 2

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 2800+

Summery: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

Chapter type: Lovesick Bucky, cuddling, mutual pinning.

Chapter warning: A bit paranoid reader.

A/N: Tbh, I am not proud of this chapter but I wanted to get done with this part. I am not really a tech person, nor can I form proper plots with tech stuff involved. Sorry in advance for the plot holes you find. Some inspiration is taken from movies Spy Kids 2 and Charlie's Angels.

The hours of night soon gave way for morning to creep in. Beam by beam light poured in through the large sized windows, illuminating the room in a silver glow.

In a relaxed and peaceful moment, Bucky woke up to the sight of a goddess wrapped up in his arms. Your face was pressed against his chest, one hand gripping his sweater tightly in your fist and the other thrown loosely around his waist; legs intertwined with his in comfort.

With one arm around your back, Bucky could feel your chest rise and fall with every breath; feel every exhale of yours through the thin layers he had on.

Golden rays from the fireplace and the pale brightness from the windows in the absence of direct sunlight cast a beautiful glow on your face, a mixture of different shades dancing about.

He could feel his heart swell with adoration just looking at you. Your lips, partly open, appeared more plump since a side of your face was cutely pressed against his body. With a slight pout and closed eyes, your face conveyed a look of pure innocence which Bucky knew he couldn't get out of his head anytime soon.

Your face was angled so that your lovely lips peered at him, seemingly begging to be sucked and licked and kissed and bitten with pure red passion. As if he hadn't wanted to do exactly that.

Closing his eyes, he gave himself a moment to calm down his racing heart. He loved the feel of you engulfed in his arms, filling a void he'd become familiar with since too long. Hard yet soft, pressed against him in the sweetest of manners due to a girdle of trust and confidence which surrounded your friendship, keeping it tight.

Silencing his wants, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head hard and lovingly, as if convincing you that he would not act on his wanton desires and loose a friend he cherished immensely in greed for more.

You slowly stirred against him. He stilled, worried that he woke you up, but after giving out a breathy exhale you resumed your position, burying your face even further and an arm tightening around his waist. Your otherwise calm posture would have fooled him, but the secretive smile tugging at your lips gave you away. Bucky thought that his kiss wouldn't have been noticed, but the small peck to his chest, right above his heart by your lips proved him wrong.

Gracing your face with a smile which took his breath away every damn time, you said, "I could get used to this."

You had been in that state rocking between the dream world and the real word for quite some time. Loving every cursory second of it, you didn't want to wake up and get out of the cocoon of Bucky and the blankets. While you were savouring the moment, you felt softness touch your head, realising what Bucky had done. Your heart thumped hard. You couldn't have stopped from reciprocating the affection even if you wanted.

Bucky felt his heart swell once again, swearing it would fly out of his rib cage at any moment.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked tentatively. A smile formed at the corner of his lips.

"Mhmm," You started, cuddling closer to him, fastening your hold on him, "You're so warm."

"You're making me cold." You whipped your head at him, worrying you'd overstepped the borders. But one look at the mischievous look in his eyes and a sly smirk on his luscious lips told you otherwise.

"Hey," You lightly hit his arm, making him rumble with laughter.

You looked at his beautiful face, eyes crinkled and teeth bared in mirthful laughter. It was good to know that he felt light enough to crack jokes. God, you thought, if the cold wouldn't kill me, his smile definitely would.

"No, but seriously," you propped yourself up on one elbow, the other still over his waist, "Are you cold because of me?" You sounded as serious as you looked.

His general body temperature was higher than yours. After giving it a thought, it only made sense to you. You'd made him cold if he'd made you warm.

He scrunched his nose, baffled as to why you would think that, "What? No! Don't be silly."

"Okay then," You said, snuggling back with him, "Don't come complaining to me later."

Why would I? He thought. He'd promised himself that he'd run to the ends of the world if it meant keeping you warm and comfortable. With a dreamy smile on his lips, he said, "Wouldn't dream of it."

You closed your eyes, relaxing further into him, "Good, cause now you're officially my cuddle pillow."

He barked out another laugh, "Cuddle pillow, huh?" He hugged you closer, "Well, cuddle pillow at your service, ma'am."

You both chuckled. He looked down at you, that post laugh smile still gracing your face. Smiling or not, he knew he could always look at you and never get enough of it, because he could never fucking get enough of you. He'd always admire those beautiful pair of eyes and those lips he couldn't stop daydreaming about-

"Hey, Bucky," You start , that smile having fallen off your face, "I've been thinking about that white thing..."

Huh?

It took Bucky a moment to understand that you had been talking about the split halves of the white octagonal box you two had found the previous day. So occupied with thoughts of you pressed against him, Bucky had forgotten that morning what had caused all of this in the first place. He felt dumb.

Clearing his throat he said, "What about it"? Pretending as if he'd been thinking about it too, because he couldn't let one of the few people whose opinions he did care about think he was dumb - especially not you.

"When it blew up, it somehow made all electronics in its range dysfunctional."

"Yeah."

"The range can't be infinite though." You paused, waiting for his confirmation; for an indication that you made sense.

"I guess."

"We already walked for like what...10 to 15 miles?"

"Kinda, yes."

You sat up, explaining animatedly with your hands, "So if we do venture out some more, maybe we can surpass the range. If we do, we could at least communicate through our comms."

Bucky sat up too, a puzzled expression in his face, "Yeah, we can try that."

"Yeah, we can!"

One look at your excited expression and he placed a hand on your shoulder. Shaking his head, Bucky said, "No, no, no, no. Not 'we'. It's gonna be just me."

"What?"

"You shouldn't go out there."

"Excuse me?!"

Bucky huffed, "Doll, we don't know what's the radius of the range. For all we know, it could be another 20 miles. You can't walk 20 miles in this weather. But I can."

You furrowed in your eyebrows. Truth be told, you knew without proper gear - which you didn't have at the moment - you wouldn't be able to survive in the bitter cold outside, let alone trek an unknown span. Bucky, on the other hand, had the serum which made him much more resistant to the cold - frankly anything else - than you. Damn it. You didn't want to admit defeat, but you had to.

Looking everywhere but at him, you tried to come up with a reason reasonable enough so that you could accompany him too. Finding none, you shrugged, "I mean - okay." Something clicked inside you all of a sudden and you grabbed his forearm, "But if you're going on your own, what if something happens to you? I wouldn't know it. I wouldn't be able to help you."

Unveiled worry reflected in your eyes. You chewed on your bottom lip. Bucky knew you cared about him, but looking at you being anxious just for him did things to his heart.

Looking deep into your eyes, he gave a shy smile, "No, doll, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me."

You knew Bucky facing any obstacles were highly unlikely. He'd was an ex-assassin - an expert one at that. He had amazing knife skills and was one of the greatest snipers the world had known. But he was also your friend, one you had feelings a little too deep for.

You shuffled closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder, saying in a voice softer than his heart had become, "I care about you, Bucky. I'll always worry about you."

His breath hitched. Strings tugged at his heart. Bucky didn't know why he was so surprised. He guessed it was because he wasn't used to people outwardly showing concern for him. He didn't want to dwell on it though. Despite having known it already, it felt good hearing you voice it out loud.

He laid his head on top of your and started petting your hair. Hiding his smile, he said, "It's gonna be fine, doll. I'm gonna be fine."

As Bucky jogged through layers upon layers of snow, he could only see white sheets for as far as his vision allowed. The dark green, lushy, conical tress were the only living things by definition in sight - that too covered under silver thaw.

He could hear the crunch of ice crystals under his boots and the chilly hurried winds rush by his ear, biting mercilessly at his exposed cheeks and nose.

The air was crisp as he breathed; so sharp and freezing he felt his lungs were being punctured. Though he didn't have any trouble breathing, he didn't like the feeling one bit. He swore he could taste the difference in the air between there and New York.

The thickness of clouds prevented sunrays from falling on skin - or anywhere in sight. His surroundings were as gloomy as the sky above. The only thing which kept his heart light was the still lingering feel of your lips on his skin.

As Bucky prepared to leave, you couldn't help but fret over him. Double checking if he had his weapons on hand, though he doubted he need them, you said one could never be too cautious. You made sure he had his comm on and insisted he put on more layers than just one heavy jacket over a sweatshirt. He assured you that all the jogging that he'd do would make him warm enough to not need anymore layering.

In your anxiousness you expressed your concern over the littlest of details. In his opinion, they were unnecessary. He only needed to be careful about not losing his path and not push past his limit. He had to appreciate your presence of mind though, but that did not mean he could let you work yourself into a panic attack.

In your defence, you were worried!

How Bucky wished he could take a hold of you in a sudden moment and kiss you senseless to stop your rambling like he had seen in all those movies. He could almost picture it happening in front of him. Nevermind the fact that he knew while in the movies the couple would somehow confess their love for each other, in the reality version you would push him away and things would be awkward and your friendship would be strained. And he couldn't let that happen.

Only if he'd known how wrong he was.

Instead, Bucky chose to grab your shoulders in a sudden moment to stop your rambling, letting you calm down against him, "Doll, you worry too much."

You huffed, "Bucky..."

"I know, Y/N, but trust me, I am going to be safe. Everything's going to be alright." He assured you yet again.

When he was about to leave through the main door, you shouted, "Bucky!"

As soon as he turned around, he saw you running to him and hugging him tight, the sheer force of your body colliding into his throwing him off his feet for a second. He soon got a grip on himself and hugged you back.

You were aware you might have been over-reacting. You might have been paranoid too. But you the thought of Bucky out in the open all by himself, unsafe while you were not didn't sit well with you. He was a grown man and capable enough on his own, yet feelings or not, he was a very close friend.

For a moment Bucky thought you were on a mission to bruise his ribs when you said, "Just take care of yourself, Bucky." and put a soft lingering kiss to his cheeks.

Bucky could still feel softness of your lips on his skin. He didn't want to be out here in the cold when he could have been snuggling with you. But he had to.

He kept running for miles and miles and his body didn't even feel relatively tired. A little out of breath, yes, but not tired. He willed himself to not loose his patience and keep going on further when he heard some static in his ear. He stopped abruptly.

Pressing the communication device to his ear, he said, "Hello?" He only heard the constant buzz of static and nothing more.

Going forward a few steps, he repeated himself. A voice broke through the static, "Agent Y/N? Sergeant Barnes?" It seemed to be FRIDAY's.

Bucky couldn't believe it. Your idea had worked and he had surpassed the range!

Bucky called out with a relieved face, "Sergeant Barnes reporting. Does anybody copy?"

"Bucky!" A shriek tore out through his earpiece, disturbing his sensitive eardrums. Though extremely high pitched, he knew whose it was.

"Sam?" Bucky questioned.

"Man, what the fuck has been going on with you? You guys were supposed to report in eighteen hours earlier! I had been worried sick about you two!" Sam's clearly worried voice spoke.

"Sam, we're fine. Nobody hurt but there's a little problem." Bucky licked his bottom lip, contemplating how he'd tell him your 'little' situation.

"What problem?" Sam prompted.

Well, considering the fact that they had had fought an army of aliens, Bucky thought that this shouldn't be much surprising. Bucky told the Captain about the white octagonal box, what all had happened the previous day and the idea you put forward that morning.

Bucky heard no response. Worried he'd lost connection again, he asked, "Sam, you there?"

Sam was nothing if not flabbergasted. He didn't know how to respond to the situation. Hardly had he felt relieve over his friends beings safe when this came up. According to Bucky's calculations, that pesky little things had rendered any electronic useless within forty miles of its radius.

How the fuck was he going to get his friends out of there when he couldn't even get the quinjet near to them!

"FRIDAY," Sam started, unsure what commands to give, "Do you know what he's been talking about?"

"Sergeant Barnes seems to be talking about a transmooker." The AI replied in her nonchalant voice.

"A what?" Both Bucky and Sam shot up.

"A transmooker. It can disable networking systems and any electronic component within the range of its blast by slightly altering the magnetic field." FRIDAY informed.

"But I don't feel anything on my arm." Bucky said, now more confused than ever.

"It is not strong enough to restrict or guide your movement, Sergeant Barnes, but strong enough to hamper the electricity flow in the devices you have."

"Can you do something about it, FRIDAY? Like hack it or something?" Sam asked, overwhelmed beyond belief.

"I cannot override it, Captain. To do that, I'd have to track it first. It seems to have created a GPS blackhole. Though according to my calculations, with an error percentage of twenty percent, the effects must begin wearing down in a week or so. As soon as that happens, I can undo it's effects."

"A week?" Bucky asked, followed by a confirmation by the AI.

"Think you can hold out for a week?" Sam asked.

"We got the supplies, at least. So yeah." Bucky nodded, looking out into the distance. Details were worked upon, goodbyes were said.

A week, Bucky thought. He hadn't even spent a day with you without turning into a lovesick puppy, he wondered what the week ahead would do to him.

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway

Chapter 4

Blog’s Main Masterlist || Taglists

Thank you for reading!

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rounove · 4 years ago

Text

Shyan Fan fic Recommendation

Anon I want to kiss you right now. I have been waiting for this question for years

Batch 1

*All | orphan_account

Ryan's got an itch only Shane can scratch.

*"Come over here and make me." | aldhafera

“Shane, stop that this instant!” “Come over here and make me.” In which Ryan fears something followed them home and Shane just wants to give the (definitely non-existent) ghosts a show.

Por Favor, Sweetheart | carrieonfighting

Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks

(This one’s so domestic I think I melted)

the choices we make | exul

Shane and Ryan find themselves in a world where much is the same, yet everything is different. An apartment that's theirs, but not theirs. Photos of them that were never taken. And most importantly a child, who's somehow theirs, yet they've never seen her before. or Shane and Ryan wake up in a world where they're married and have a baby.

and then there were two (idiots) | sessrumnir

Shane kisses Ryan by accident one day. A week later they are still trying to process what happened.

*Body Farming | shiphitsthefan

Failed suppressants and a surprise heat: the worst of cliches, and here Ryan stands, living the trope on location with the alpha he’s hopelessly in love with. Even worse, they’re spending the night in the famous Bell Witch Cave, completely alone and with no way to contact the outside world.

Ryan knows he can survive and keep his preheat a secret, as long as Shane will stop being so protective and concerned. After all, it’s not like Shane wants to bond with him.

Right?

*breathe out so i can breathe you in | trxshmxuth

They've been tiptoeing around each other for months now, walking on ice so thin that Ryan can practically see the sexual tension swirling and raging underneath. Ryan's almost afraid that when the ice finally cracks, he's not going to be able to resurface again.On their next Unsolved investigation, the ice breaks.

eventually, the darkness stares back | EAST (WESTAGE)

Shane realizes he likes Ryan exactly the way he is: alive.

Four Down, One to Go | sunshinewinchesters

Ryan is sick and Shane is having a really shitty week.

*Hold Your Breath, It Gets Better | beethechange

Ryan stops short in the doorway of his bedroom, banging his shoulder against the doorframe in his haste, because he’s too late. Shane’s kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his bedside table, peering down at the contents, hand frozen in a hover like he’d been about to reach in. His face is a blank mask.

“Ah. I keep the batteries in the top drawer. Not. Not the bottom one.”

“Yes,” Shane says, cocking his head to the left in puzzlement, and then he pauses for a fraction of a second too long as he considers his words. “I can see that the batteries are not in the bottom drawer.”

*How Deep (Is Your Love) | touchinghearts

The last thing Shane expects when he exits the bathroom is for his boyfriend to appear out of fucking nowhere, pin him against the wall, and swallow his cock down in the open hallway of a hotel.

It's a love/hate kind of thing. | heyghouls

Shane is an executive producer at BuzzFeed and Ryan is his intern. It's not love at first sight for the boys, but will they finally see eye to eye when they realize they have more in common than they thought? Shane is an introvert who finds it hard to let people in, and Ryan is a cute loving boy who just wants to figure the guy out.

Just Out of Reach | formosus_iniquis

A variation on the "I asked for your help getting a book off the top shelf and and you laughed at my taste and called me a nerd so I shoved you into a table of nonfiction best-sellers and that’s how we both got banned from the quirky community bookstore" prompt

keep you like an oath | spoopyy

"I'm in love with you," Ryan says, desperate."No, you're in love with the views."

kiss me like you mean it | rocketshiptospace

“Hi,” Tall man says, taking in the sight in front of him. “I’m sorry, I heard banging and yelling and I just, are you okay?”

“No. Yes. Maybe,” Ryan says, slowly standing back up on two legs again. “My door won’t open.” He eventually ads, when him and Tall man have just stared at each other for a few seconds.

“That’s unfortunate,” Tall man says, smiling at him. He has a really nice smile. “But it happens. It’s an old building, you know. Doors get stuck sometime. Here, let me try,” He steps past Ryan, and places his hand on the door handle. The door swings open like it’s nothing.

or, Ryan's apartment building plays matchmaker.

*Muscles Better and Nerves More | beethechange

A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way.

the calm before crescendo | abovetheruins

Alternate title: 5 times Shane Madej was flustered by Ryan Bergara, and 1 time he finally did something about it.

*The Desk Fic | SincerelyLeah

Shane was having a shitty Monday morning and it was all because of one person, Ryan Bergara. But, by now he should know that endless teasing gets Shane more than riled up.

Things That Go Bump in the Night (and 7 till 12 at weekends) | HoopyFrood

Shane works at a Haunted House. Ryan is Ryan. Things go about as well as you'd imagine.

Tranquility Base | sessrumnir

After their successful Sims series, Kelsey has a different video proposal for the boys. This time, they're testing how fast gossip travels in the office. But Ryan doesn't expect their relationship to change so fast because of it.

*wasted on you | cursingcursive (queenradi)

there's a reason shane loves when ryan wears his clothes.

Weird | Helsabot

One night, the stack of pillows between them becomes one stack too many. “Let me— let me hit you with a thought. A theory.” “A postulation?” “Sure. Let me postulate at you.” “Postulate away, baby.”

You Make Me Glow | sohapppily

Whenever they were on their ghoul excursions, Shane always had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue and a twisted smirk to shoot at Ryan’s terror. He was mostly the same way in their unrecorded life, but they played up the banter for the sake of The Boys. Although it was a welcome respite for Ryan, seeing Shane in these settings with nothing but sleep on his features never failed to be a bit jarring.

Ryan couldn’t look away.

lightning in a bottle | LexTheMoose

Love is slow-dancing on the balcony of a house party at 11 PM.

meet me halfway | poetdameron

In a world where everything changed over the night, Ryan and Shane's minds connect miles away, making Shane the man of Ryan's dreams. Literally.

Batch 2

*And they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates) | Squeakyshroom

All my notes said on this one was “this is pure sex jesus”

2:10 to Wellton | quackers

and i'm puffing my chest, getting red in the face | pissedofsandwich

Bed-warm Hands and the Ghost of Elvis | MiraclesofPaul

*BFFS Get Married For A Week - Ryan and Shane | aspookycryptidsock

distorted truths | hwsinbs

*Everything's Weird and We're Always in Danger | beethechange

hammer me to the cross of my despair | heartchains

I Think the Ghost Likes You | cactsu

*I’ve Kissed You Before, but I Didn’t Do It Right (Can I Try Again) | beethechange

if i should fall | abovetheruins

*Just The Facts | millyvanilly (miloisnothere)

*Out of Control with Ryan | beethechange

*Pushing All Your Buttons | beethechange

satisfaction brought it back | ElasticElla

Short Stack | Anonymous

*Thank you, Satan | Squeakyshroom

The Chain | Lafayette1777

Rough water | heyghouls

Batch 3

The Thrilling Gardner Museum Heist | orphan_account

One in Five Billion | punk_rock_yuppie

a short history of almost something | cooliohoolio

*A Suspicion of Feelings | beethechange

I Will Be the Sun, I Will Wake You Up | sohapppily

*ready if it happens with you | sarcasticfishes

*The Denial Twist | beethechange

The Bizarre Road Trip Of A Missing Family | icantwritegood

Beautiful Crime | orphan_account

The Odd Death of Michelle Von Emster | icantwritegood

won't you ride on my fast machine? | ElasticElla

Batch 4

*Breathe | quackers

*The Hunger | poetdameron

Black Sun | quackers

contrapposto | spoopyy

(Let me tell you that I never liked major character death but I accidentally read this one without reading the warning and YOO I am a fan of major character death now. This was beautifully written!)

darling it's a faded notion | varnes

(This was the very first shyan fic I’ve read and still one of the best one’s)

*Full-Court Press | beethechange

(I remember this one oh my god this has jersey kink in it and I didn’t even know what it means until I read this and it awaken something in me. This writer I swear to god. They could write Ryan and Shane fucking in a hot dog costume on top of the mountains and I’d still be into it.)

*Ryan Number One | quackers

(THIS has everything I want and didn’t know I needed. This is hot this is sexy. Five star porn right here.)

theft by finding | varnes

*Wicked Game | quackers

(This is my favorite. This ruined me in so many ways and I got so affected and shaken up that I can’t draw anything for months. I have been to so many fandoms and read hundreds of fics but nothing has fucked me up like this. I have to switch to a different fandom because I am having the longest art block ever because I keep thinking about this fic. I am not exaggerating I swear if you see my previous posts there’s quite a gap in my shyan art. And I am saying this in the highest of compliment, this fic changed my life.)

*Translucent | poetdameron

*Begin the Begin, Over and Over | beethechange

*Let the Sunshine Burn Your Eyes | YogurtTime

*Look How Long They Are | drunkkenobi

*The Disturbing Mystery of the Jamison Family | icantwritegood

(This one’s fun! I fucking love this one! Lot’s of angry sex. The banter! The banter holy shit hmm!! I don’t want to spoil anymore. It’s dark but it’s funny it’s also hot and sad. This writer loooves angst.)

*Collide | needywitch

* - has porn

This got way longer than I thought and I couldn’t even put the summary in some of them but all of these are worth the read. This fandom has so much talented writers that my small monkey brain went fucking bananas on the list.

#rousponse #shyan fic rec #Anon must be expecting 5-10 fics because it's such a light-hearted ask

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edie-k · 4 years ago

Text

Legally Ginger Chapter 4 (Romione, PG-13)

Title: Legal Ginger, Chapter 4 "Not Completely Unfortunate Looking"

Pairing: Romione, minor Ron/Astoria, Harry/Astoria

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Ron makes his first East Coast friend

Thanks adnei for all the beta help!

Bolded dialogue plus the chapter title are verbatim or very very heavily ripped from the movie.

Thank you for all your comments last chapter! I think the fun of these RomCom inspired fics is to surprise you with what character ends up where.

And to be clear, I love Harry - not as much as Ron but I am one of these weirdos that somehow thinks the main character is underrated in his own series. But the very few times Harry was mad at Ron, he knew how to cut and I'm going to have some fun with that. I doubt you'll hate Harry when this story is complete. But you might at the end of next chapter.

Click below or follow the link to AO3!

Ron stormed back to his room, struggling with the lock as his hands shook. After finally getting the door open, he quickly grabbed for Pig’s leash. The pug has out of his bed and at Ron’s feet in a flash.

Ron, who didn’t have patience for Pig’s short legs today, scooped him up and stomped down the hall and out to the parking lot. He jerked open the door to his Escape and deposited Pig in the passenger’s seat before taking a deep breath.

Pig tilted his head quizzically.

“We need to hit something.”

**********************************

After driving about 10 miles, Ron spotted it. A large building that had seen better days with steel cages and a dilapidated miniature golf course outside. The weathered sign outside it said “Hogs Head Sports Center and Pub”.

He cut through two lanes of traffic to turn into the mostly empty parking lot. After putting the car in park, he took a second to dig for quarters in his center console but came up empty. “Shit,” he sighed.

Ron grabbed Pig’s leash and the dog hopped down to follow him towards the building.

Upon entering, Ron found the inside to be about as unkempt as the outside but it was surprisingly clean. Another pleasant surprise was that there was a bar to the right with a few grizzled townies eating nachos and being served drafts by a grumpy looking bearded bartender while they watched Sportscenter on a small flat screen. In the back was a sole batting cage, a few arcade machines and a beat up door with a paper taped to it that said “Simulator in Use”. To the left, a small counter with golf clubs, colored golf balls, and tiny pencils.

Behind the counter was the biggest man Ron had ever seen in real life and he’d been lucky enough to meet three Lakers, two Warriors, and a Ram. Similar to the bartender, he had unkempt hair and a wild beard but unlike the old guy slinging drinks, he was middle aged and his face split in a big smile upon seeing Ron.

“Hello,” the giant of a man greeted him. “What’s doing?”

“I need some quarters for the cages,” Ron said, holding out a $5.

“Sure,” the man agreed and opened the cash register.

“Thanks,” Ron muttered and started to walk out the door before stopping short. “Shit.”

“Something wrong?”

“I don’t have my bat,” Ron said, shaking his head.

“Came to the cages without a bat?” the guy said, his accent so thick that Ron had to pause to process before answering.

“Uh yeah. I sort of just needed to find something to hit that wasn’t…” Ron trailed off.

“The other guy?” The giant man finished his sentence with a chuckle.

Ron laughed. “Pretty much.”

The man walked into the back room and came out with two worn bats. “I’ve been there,” he said, handing Ron one.

“Thanks.”

“You look like you could use some company,” the man said.

Ron considered for a moment. He’d been lonely as hell this week. Growing up with six siblings, living in a fraternity house… he wasn’t used to all this time to himself. And this guy was only the second genuine conversation he’d had since arriving in Boston.

“Sure,” he replied. “My name’s Ron.”

The man outstretched a giant hand. “Everyone calls me Hagrid.”

***********************

“We hooked up the night before graduation and she’s already engaged to this d-bag?”

“I don’t get it,” Hagrid said. “What’s so great about this guy?”

Ron had spent the last half hour spilling his life story while hitting balls off the fastest pitching machine in the cages. Hagrid had proved himself to be a captive and empathetic audience - almost like talking with one of his older brothers.

Ron shrugged. “He’s obviously smart.”

“Why? Cause he got into Harvard? So did you. Better looking than you?”

“I mean, he’s a little scrawny. If I’d actually been dumb enough to hit him, I’d have won before he even knew we were fighting but he’s decent looking enough. I’ve got a sister and he’s her type.”

“He seems like a total asshole so no way he’s got you beat on personality,” Hagrid said.

Ron laughed. “You’ve known me for forty minutes!”

Now Hagrid shrugged. “Lived here my whole life. Not to paint with too broad a brush but there aren’t a lot of Harvard kids kicking back with the counter guy at a rec center. You check out.”

“That’s probably true from what I’ve seen,” Ron agreed. “But I’m not really a Harvard kid. I just...I actually don’t know what I expected.”

“You expected to spend the rest of your lives together! I don’t get why it’s so hard. Isn’t that what all the TV shows tell us women want? My girl, Olympe, she dumped me a few months back. She took everything. Our home, the Dunkie’s rewards, my baby Fangs…”

“Fangs?”

“Best mutt there is,” Hagrid said. “Although this guy’s pretty great.” Hagrid leaned down to scratch the Pig’s ears.

“I'm sorry, that sucks,” Ron replied, shaking his head.

“It happens all the time,” Hagrid shrugged. “You ready for a beer?”

“Always,” agreed Ron and they walked back toward the main building.

Upon entering the building, Ron set his bat on the counter. “What’s the old man got on tap?”

When Hagrid didn’t immediately reply, Ron turned to look at him. He was standing frozen, staring across the room where an attractive middle aged brunette woman in a polo shirt and jeans was pushing an empty dolley out from behind the bar and towards them.

“Hi, Hagrid,” she said with a smile. Ron turned to grab the door and hold it open for her.

“Uh, yeah, uh hi,” stammered Hagrid. He tried to slide his bat on the counter but only succeeded in knocking the one Ron used to the floor with a loud clatter.

She waved as she left the building.

“Could I be any more goddamn spastic?” Hagrid bemoaned. Ron gave a sympathetic wince. “Now I really need that drink.”

Ron followed him over to the bar and slid onto the stool next to him.

“Abe? Can we get a couple?”

The bearded old man behind the bar grunted and poured them two drafts.

Hagrid took a sip and shook his head. “This women stuff is hard. Never thought I’d be in this position at my age. But you’re still young. Doesn’t have to be this difficult for you. Smart guy, good guy, athletic guy like you. You’d find another girl in no time.”

“I mean, maybe, but Astoria…. she’s worth fighting for, you know?”

“Well, engaged ain’t married,” said Hagrid. “Never, ever, ever give up.”

Ron burst out laughing. “That’s Michael Scott advice!”

“Eh, it worked out for Jim and Pam,” insisted Hagrid.

“Well, I’m not giving up yet, so don’t worry.”

*************************************************************************************

Ron entered his first class Tuesday morning, feeling much more confident. After leaving Hogs Head with a stomach full of greasy nachos, Hagrid’s number, and an offer to text anytime, he'd returned to campus and poured over all the syllabi and orientation packets again. He felt confident that he’d done the pre-work needed to enter his Criminal Law class.

He plunked down in his seat and looked around. In front of him sat Astoria and what’s his face. Harry had his arm draped behind the back of her chair.

Engaged ain’t married. Engaged ain’t married. He repeated to himself.

In addition to his studying last night, he had tried to scour social media to see if there was a wedding date set, but the news seemed totally non-existent. On a whim, he had texted Lavender. Lavender had said she was working for LiveNation post graduation but Ron wondered if she’d actually joined the FBI - thirty minutes later, she had emailed him a whole mess of screenshots from various social media accounts, college newsletters, and local newspapers. He thought he might even have Harry’s social security number in the file. The only thing he cared about was that she had confirmed there was no date set and that they intended on a long engagement.

“Hem, hem.”

The noise came from a small woman standing at the front of the hall. She had a flat face and her style of dress was atrocious - fluffy pink cardigan over a shapeless tan shift dress. He vowed to get a discrete picture of her to throw in the group chat.

“Welcome to Criminal Law. I am Professor Dolores Umbridge. I have high expectations of how you will perform and how you will conduct yourself in my class. I expect you to push yourselves to excel and outperform your classmates and yourselves. And bear in mind, performing well this year will have you well placed for one of four highly regarded internships at my firm next year where you will be applying your skills to real world cases.”

“Now, let’s commence with our usual torture,” she said. She studied a class roster.

Please not me. But I can do it. But also, please not me.

“Mr. Weasley.”

Goddamn it.

“Would you prefer your client have committed a crime malum in se or malum prohibitum?” Professor Umbridge asked.

“Well,” he said carefully. “I prefer they not have committed the crime at all.”

The rest of the class snickered.

“That is the dream, Mr. Weasley,” she said with a wry smile. She looked down at the roster again. “What about you, Mr. Potter?”

“Malum prohibitum,” he said confidently. “I’d rather they commit a regulatory infraction as opposed to a dangerous crime.”

“Well said, Mr. Potter,” Professor Umbridge replied. “Let’s take a closer look at malum prohibitum, shall we?”

Harry shot a glance back at Ron over his shoulder and gave him a shit eating grin before running his fingers up and down Stori’s arm.

We’re in the middle of fucking class and he’s mauling her like they’re at a kegger.

Before he could think better of it, Ron raised his hand.

“Oh,” said Professor Umbridge. “You had a question Mr. Weasley?”

“No,” said Ron. “I just changed my mind. I’ll take the dangerous criminal. Unlike Potter, a challenge has never scared me.”

Harry whipped his head around to glare at Ron.

“Exactly the spirit I like to see, Mr. Weasley,” Umbridge said approvingly.

*************************

“Come on boy,” said Ron, urging Pig along down the stairs of the dorms.

The semester was now three weeks old. Ron was dutifully completing his reading each night and when McGonagall had come back at him again with a question, he had managed to piece together an answer that satisfied her.

Campus life, however, had continued to be fairly lonely for him. His debacle in McGonagall’s class had spread like wildfire and he’d been shunned from every study group he approached. He’d taken to reviewing in the bar at the Hogs Head for the company. He wasn’t sure if Hagrid liked him or Pig better but at least there was one place in town they were always welcome.

“I didn’t know pets were allowed in student housing,” he heard a voice say.

Ron glanced up to see a face that looked somewhat familiar to him. After a tick, he recognized the woman speaking as the same one who had reassured him that first day of classes.

“Service animals are,” he told her.

She looked at him skeptically, brushing her voluminous hair behind her ears. “Is he a service animal?”

“He provides services,” Ron said, giving her a cocky grin.

She pursed her lips as though she was trying not to smile. “Such as?”

“Getting the attention of beautiful women,” Ron answered.

The brunette stood up and crossed her arms against her chest but there was really no hiding her obvious amusement. “Wow.” She shook her head and started to walk away.

“Come on, that was a good line, right?” Ron called after her.

She stopped and looked back at him. “I just didn’t think that was an area that you needed assistance in,” she said slyly, before walking away.

Shit, what a response.

He grinned, watching her go. He was about to call and ask her name - after all, she was the friendliest person on the campus - when he caught a glimpse of Astoria out of the corner of his eye. She was standing about twenty feet away with fucking Harry’s arm draped around her shoulders, talking to a couple of other students. For fuck’s sake, is she full of helium now? He’s constantly got an arm around her to weigh her down. But she was watching Ron through narrowed eyes.

Ron gave a small wave and Stori blushed, clearly embarrassed that she was caught. At that moment, Harry seemed to notice his fiancée was distracted and glanced in Ron’s direction. He threw Ron one of his patented spoiled rich dick smirks. Ron smirked right back and winked.

I’m not as out of the picture as you think. We’ll see who wins this one.

********************

Ron was just stepping out of the bathroom when he spotted his phone lighting up.

Fred

FaceTime as soon as you can!

He sighed, threw on a shirt, and dialed his brother.

Fred’s face appeared before him. Sort of. Wherever he was was dark, loud and full of strobe lights.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked.

“We’re celebrating!” shouted Fred. The camera turned and Ron suddenly saw a whole slew of his friends.

Parvati came into view. “Seamus proposed and Lav said yes!”

Over her right shoulder, Ron spotted the aforementioned couple kissing. Over Parvati’s left shoulder though, he saw…

“Are you at a strip club?” Ron asked.

“Of course!” yelled George. “It’s 6pm on a Monday. Half price drinks and free buffet at Diamond’s!”

“I just bought a ring, I gotta pay for a wedding, and student loans are coming due,” Seamus said, now closer to the camera. Lavender’s face wasn’t in view but he assumed the hand with the ring on screen belonged to her.

“Congrats buddy,” Ron said, feeling a sting.

“June 9th. I need you as one of my groomsmen, right? Lavender’s first cousin is like six two. If she wears heels, only you can match up to her.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Ron assured him.

“Ron! Did that stuff help? Has she dumped that douche yet?” Lavender screamed, not aware of just how close she was to the mic.

“Uh, I’m making progress,” Ron said.

“Almost October bro,” George said. “If anyone can make it work, you can.”

“Or just come home!” he heard his sister shout from far away.

“I’ll see you all soon,” Ron said. “Have fun.”

“I’ll slip Destiny a $5 and tell her it’s from you in case you change your mind,” Ginny called. Then the screen went black.

God, he missed his friends, his family. He missed having a bunch of guys at the frat to hang out with at the drop of a hat. He missed having a dozen teammates, available for a run at the drop of a hat. He missed Tim, the coffee cart guy who always knew his correct coffee/milk/syrup ratio.

He didn’t think Harvard would be easy. He didn’t think that it would be easy to get Astoria back. But he assumed making friends would be easy. He didn’t even remember how he made friends at CULA - did he even have to try? He sighed and picked up Pig’s leash, ready to take him for one last walk.

“It’s a Cambridge tradition - pass it along to everyone,” he heard someone say down the hall. “8 o’clock tomorrow at Gord’s Pub”

“What tradition?” Ron asked, coming around the corner. “Oh.”

There he was, face to face, with Harry Potter.

“Uh, sorry,” said Ron. “I heard the word pub.”

Harry looked at him and then gave a slight smile. “Yeah, man. There’s a trivia night at Gord’s Pub tomorrow night. It’s sort of a law school tradition to hit it up.”

“Trivia night, huh?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, the guy who does it prides himself on coming up with the most difficult questions he can. It’s impossible to win. Everyone completely bombs on every question so everyone just gets drunk by the second half. I hear it’s a pretty good night,” Harry said.

“Cool,” said Ron awkwardly.

“You should stop by. I’m sure there’ll be a team you can jump onto,” Harry suggested.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe I will,” Ron said.

“Cool dog,” Harry said, pointing at Pig.

“Uh, thanks. Have a good night,” Ron said, walking away.

Am I so desperate for friends that I’m hanging out with this douche? I guess so.

#romione fanfic #au romione #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #hp fanfic #rom com

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andybondurant · 3 years ago

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New Post has been published on Andy Bondurant

New Post has been published on https://andybondurant.com/2021/09/07/you-are-invited-in/

You are invited in!

I met my wife when I was 16 years old in the same youth group I went to camp with in Colorado. Before I truly started to follow Jesus, I had stepped out of that world for a couple of years, but I started back after Jesus picked me out.

A group of kids invited me into their community, and they would trek out to my wife’s parent’s house week after week. Her family lived on 80 acres about 30 miles south of the KC metro area. It was mostly young men who made up this group, and we all pretended to be there for the clean, country living.

But my wife is pretty good looking, so I’ll let you do the math. Somehow, I outlasted those guys, she chose me, and thirty years later, we’re married with 4 awesome kids.

The point of sharing this story for you isn’t to brag about winning my wife (but since we’re on the subject…), but to bring back the topic I raised in my last post.

Jesus picked you.

It is a pattern Jesus repeats throughout the gospels. He picked men and women out. Then Jesus invited them into community – just like that group of kids invited into the community where I met my wife. Finally, Jesus called those people up to greater things.

In the Gospel of Luke (5:1-11), Jesus picked Peter out from a community of fisherman. Jesus initially asked to borrow Peter’s boat to teach a large crowd gathered around the lakeshore. When Jesus is done teaching, he instructs Peter to push the boat out a little further and drop his nets for a catch.

Peter, a life-long fisherman, is reluctant. This wasn’t the ideal time of day to fish, but he obeys Jesus’ persistence. To Peter’s surprise (and shame), Jesus performs the miracle of bringing in a two-boat-full haul of fish.

Jesus invites us in.

Jesus picked Peter out from among the crowd, but he didn’t end there. He went on to invite him into a community. Jesus starts by using the guys already with Peter. In the midst or trying to haul in the massive catch, Luke records there was “a shout for help [that] brought their partners in the other boat…” (Luke 5:7).

Following Jesus’ famous words to Peter (”From now on you’ll be fishing for people!” -Luke 5:10), he doesn’t follow Jesus alone. Peter leaves with his friends and business partners, James and John. Luke tells us,

“His partners…were also amazed…And as soon as they landed, they left everything and followed Jesus.” -Luke 5:10-11

Jesus hasn’t just picked you out. He is inviting you into community. Again, this is the pattern of Jesus. He picks us out, but then Jesus invites us into relationship. Of course, the relationship is with himself and the Father and the Spirit, but it also is the community of Jesus’ followers locally and around the world.

So if Jesus has invited us into this community, it’s important to know both what community is and why community matters.

What is community?

Community is the Church. That is Church with a capital ‘C’ – the global church. The church is global, but community takes place in the local church. It is not uncommon to hear someone say something like, “I love Jesus, but I’m not really into church.” They may go onto say, “The church is just too hypocritical.”

I won’t try to argue those statements, but I will share two points why those aren’t reason enough to abandon the local church.

1. We are told to meet.

“Let us not stay away from church meetings. Some people are doing this all the time. Comfort each other as you see the day of His return coming near.” -Hebrews 10:25

Scholars aren’t sure who wrote the book of Hebrews, but whoever wrote it couldn’t have made this point any more clear. Keep meeting. Church matters.

There are lots of reasons to meet with other believers on a regular basis, but the writer of Hebrews lists one here – comfort. We need community when times are tough. This pandemic season has been really hard, but those who have a strong community (both in-person and virtual) are the ones both making it through and thriving in the midst of difficult times.

2. The church equips us and builds us up.

“Their responsibility is to equip God’s people to do his work and build up the church, the body of Christ.” -Ephesians‬ ‭4:12‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The Apostle Paul wrote the book of Ephesians, and in chapter four Paul talks a lot about the church. He calls for unity because we need one another. We need one another because all of us have different gifts and talents from God.

He begins to wrap this passage up with the above verse. The church (specifically the different people with their unique gifts who make up the church) equip us and build us up. Paul goes on to say when we are equipped and built up, we are mature and strong in our faith.

Church is more than a Sunday morning meeting. In the modern American church, it is hard to find community in a weekly gathering of several hundred or thousand people. In fact, it’s nearly impossible to find community in that setting. More than likely, if you attend a large church, you will find true community in separate gatherings of smaller groups (10-15) of people. If you want to really grow as a follower of Jesus, you will find spiritual life in a small community group.

Why does community matter?

As a believer in Jesus, you are invited into this type of community. If I haven’t already convinced you of it’s importance, let me give you three more reasons why community matters.

1. Community comes to your aid.

In the Hebrews passage, we saw that one purpose of the church is to comfort one another. In the story of Jesus and Peter, we see Peter’s community coming to his aid when the catch of fish overwhelmed him and his boat.

I experienced this first hand when Kia required major surgery earlier this year. My church community came around us to provide meals, help with kids, and be with her when I couldn’t. Our community came to our aid.

Who will come to your aid

2. Community walks with you.

When Peter walked away from his life as a fisherman, he didn’t need physical help, he needed the comfort of someone walking with him. We saw how his friends James and John also left their work as fisherman to walk with Peter.

During this last two years of stress, I’ve needed people to simply walk alongside me and listen to my frustrations. They’ve needed me to do the same with them. I needed people to be with me; nothing more could be done.

Who is walking with you?

3. Community knows you.

I recently listened to a podcast with rapper, poet, speaker, Jackie Hill Perry, and her husband (also a poet), Preston. In the podcast, they spoke about handling fame.

Fame, of course, is very subjective. What I experience as fame may be different than what you would experience. Both of our experiences will never match what Kanye knows as fame. Within this context, fame simply means being known for a gift or talent outside of who I really am as a person.

More than likely, you are famous at your work. In other words, you are known for the gift you have to do your job, but it is completely separate from who you truly are. In this podcast, Jackie Hill Perry said this,

“My gifting always outshines my character.”

It was so powerful that I stopped the podcast, paused the walk I was on, and I made a note of it in my phone. Seen only through the eyes of my abilities, you will believe I am a better person than I really am. My gifting always outshines my character.

Because of this, I need a community of people around me who know me…truly know me. I need them to bring me back to reality. I need them to point out my short comings, and encourage me to be better.

Who truly knows you?

Picked out. Invited in. Called up.

Jesus picked you out. Jesus also invited you into this type of community. I admit, it’s not always easy. Sometimes the humanity of Christians interferes with their Christ-likeness. I implore you not to keep you from finding community.

Jesus has invited you in, so you can be built up. Even more important, Jesus has invited you in, so you can be called up to greater things.

This is what Jesus does.

He picks us out. He invites us in. He calls us up.

#Andy Bondurant #called up #church #community #Ephesians #Hebrews #invited in #Jesus #Kia Bondurant #Luke #Peter #picked out

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katelides · 4 years ago

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Walking on sunshine - Bechloe Mini Fic pt 7

I realize I have not posted in a very very long time... and I am sorry... I am posting 2 chapters for this mini fic today and I am working on the next one as we speak! So I am getting back out there!!

Chapter 7: It must have been love

The girls are all getting dressed with an 80s playlist blaring in the background, getting them all in the mood. Leave it to Maddie to decide that a themed hen night is what she wants. Everyone is dressing up in vintage clothes, and tuning their hair and makeup into the selected time.

They are all having a ton of fun, messing with each other while helping simultaneously. All the girls have their own costume they are picking. Or a certain style. Aubrey and Stacy had decided to take on a prep school look with Sperry Top-Siders, to show off intelligence yet still looking sexy as hell.

Fat Amy, Maddie and Chloe had each decided on a specific outfit that resembles Cindy Lauper in some way. Maddie even going as far as putting on a blonde wig. This only because when they were younger, they were obsessed with her hit song ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. A motto at least 2 have lived by since. Chloe just loved the song but couldn’t decide whether this was something she wanted to be remembered by for the rest of her life, and still isn’t.

Titziana, who is joining the gang, is sporting pooled up cringed hair. Wearing a black dress and a jean jacket on top. Showing off just enough cleavage to attract the other gender for sure. Emily, on the other hand, is wearing high-waisted jeans and a Coca Cola crop top sweater, and having her hair curled perfectly.

The girls all make it to the club around 10 PM and instantly pull each other towards the bar to take some shots. Maddie is the first one to semi reluctantly pour one down while the rest cheers her on. Shortly after the other girls, minus Emily, since she’s pretending to be pregnant for Maddie, and can’t drink.

The DJ watches the girls go loose and spots their outfits and instantly turns up the volume and blasting Fat Amy, Chloe and Maddie’s all-time favourite through the speakers. The girls go wild and head over to the dance floor, to dance until their hearts are beating like crazy. Flirting and just being free from everything. The wedding, lies, and everything that is attached to what has occurred in the past few days.

At the club, Fat Amy and Aubrey had prepared a little surprise for everyone. They had hired some strippers. Both male a female, to spice up the evening. Maddie is really put on the spot but loves every second of it. How could she not? She has two sexy firemen grinding in her lap while three real-life pilots are already being pulled aside by Back at the club, Chloe is watching her sister getting handsy with the strippers, laughing her heart out, trying to remember everything for the following day. But deep inside she knows that she should not be here, not at the club, nor in Puglia and especially not at the wedding tomorrow. She can’t do it to herself, nor to her sister. She can’t keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not.

Chloe manages to sneak out of the club, to grab some fresh air and think things over. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she would have made an irrational decision without really thinking about it. She needs to put all her feelings into a neat line. Not just for her own sake.

Meanwhile, Beca, Jesse, Mike and Benji are having a blast, walking around town in their own 80s themed costumes. Beca having chosen a simple outfit, black jeans with a white shirt, topping it off with an army band jacket. Jesse is covering his musical movie tracks and wearing a white shirt with a leather jacket and high jeans with aviator sunglasses. Mikey is keeping it cool with his hair smoothly gelled backwards and a white button-up shirt. Benji is casually wearing a coloured polo shirt tucked into his jeans.

The four of them are cruising around town, from bar to bar. Enjoying Beca’s last night as a free woman together. Eventually, they stumble into a strip club, well slightly pulling Beca towards one, not giving her a chance to change her mind or even protest.

Beca is pushed into a chair, handed over another drink and gets a brunette shoved into her lap. If it wasn’t for her wedding the following day and her still raging feelings for her fiancee’s sister. She would be at least enjoying it. Right now though, she can’t seem to let go and just sits there with a forced smile, waiting for everything to be over. The night, and especially the wedding.

She quickly excuses herself from her chair and tells her brother that she needs some air after all the alcohol she has consumed. She heads out and sits down at the edge of a fountain, just taking her time to think. Her mind keeps playing back the memories of 3 years ago, and the memories of earlier that day. Could Chloes really not feel anything for her? Did she ever, really?

Beca has been sitting outside for about 30 minutes when Jesse stumbles towards her in a slightly inebriated state. Knowing that his little sister needs some guidance or at least support. He remembers how heartbroken she was when Chloe left and how Beca had not dated for over a year after that. He was there, every night when she cried, or more to say she pretended not to cry but he knew better.

“Hey, you all right?” Jesse asks, his voice filled with concern, and slightly slurred speech.

Beca rolls her eyes and watches her brother sit down. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She says once she knows the almost drunken mess next to her is ok. The brunette looks away, her mind yet again consumed by a bright flash of red.

“What’s up Becs?” Jesse asks. Not actually receiving more than a hum from his little sister as an answer.

It takes Beca a second to really clear her thoughts before she speaks up. “Just can’t wait for the wedding to be over.” She says with a sigh. “Just wanna be married already.” That was no lie. Once the wedding is over, she can be happy with Maddie. Maybe even manage to not see Chloe ever again.

Jesse grunts at his sisters' words. “You got a whole lifetime of that, sorellina (little sister).

Rolling her eyes, Beca mumbles a quick. “I know.”

“Enjoy your last night of liberty.” Jesse gently punches Beca on her should and tries to urge her to get up. “Come on!” Falling into an uncomfortable silence, seeing his sister really grind her thoughts together about the only person she has really loved, he takes a deep breath and frowns at the following words he says. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” Beca asks, not really feeling in the mood. Nor wanting to make her brother uncomfortable.

“Look,” Jesse starts, not wanting to give up just yet. “is this about Chloe?” He asks, even though he clearly knows the answer to that question. “I’ve got to ask…” He adds when Beca looks away with an eye roll. “… have you still got feelings for her?”

Beca scoffs at the insinuation. “No, that would be really stupid. No.” She says defensively.

Clearing his throat, Jesse asks: “Are you sure?” Needing to know. He doesn’t want to see Beca, nor Maddie, hell not even Chloe hurt by this entire ordeal. When Beca doesn’t immediately say anything, Jesse just stares at her until she looks back at him.

Finally, Beca manages to breathe out a gentle “Yeah.”

“Allora…” (So…), Jesse draws out, falling into a giggle when he sees Beca’s smile coming back slowly. “Can we duct-tape you to a pole now, please?”

Beca mentally facepalms herself when she remembers her predicament. Yet it was a tradition in the family. Whoever gets married, will get duct-taped or bound to a pole. She rolls her eyes and whispers “In a minute.” Jesse takes this as a win and heads back inside to get Benji and Mike.

A few blocks away, Chloe walks out of the club into the night. Her mind filled with all and nothing at the same time. Yet one thing, one name keeps bouncing around without ever leaving Beca.

The redhead walks further away from the entrance and hides behind a corner. Tears are threatening to spill from her eyes. She starts to remember all the moments between her and Beca, how they talked even without speaking. “Lay a whisper, on my pillow. Leave the winter, on the ground.” The words all pour out of her in a rush. Remembering how she felt when Beca wasn’t there. “I wake up lonely, the stare of silence, in the bedroom, all around.”

A bad habit she had picked up over the years, yet one that could always soothe her nerves. Talking to herself when she’s alone. Pretending to be speaking to the brunette that holds her heart. “Touch me now, I close my eyes. And dream away.”

She pushes herself off the wall and starts walking to who knows where not caring about anything at that moment. “It must have been love,” Chloe quietly admits to herself, not ever having voiced the thought after having left Puglia 3 years ago. They had told each other as much, but they were young. They didn’t know what the word meant at the time. “But it’s over now.” She says almost melancholically.

“It must have been good, but I lost it somehow.” Think about the words she’s saying, the redhead becomes more confident and starts to really understand her feelings. “It must have been love, but it’s over now. From the moment we touched, till the time it ran out.”

On the other side of the small town square, Beca is still sitting at the edge of the fountain. Her mind running a million miles an hour. Trying to sort out what she and Chloe are, or better were. “Make-believing, we’re together. That I’m sheltered by your heart.” The brunette feels cheated. Hardly processing the fact that Chloe never loved her. “But in and outside I turned to water, like a teardrop in your palm.”

The brunette’s heart feels heavy. She hasn’t wrapped her head around meeting Maddie. Proposing to her so soon after they met, even though it did feel right at the time. Losing the love of her life… NO, she has met the love of her life. Maddie is supposed to be the love of her life. “And it’s a hard winter’s day, I dream away.” Shaking her head, Beca gets up and decides to walk around for a bit. Feeling a need to stretch her legs.

Chloe sighs heavily and looks up to the moon as she walks towards the fountain where Beca had been just moments ago. “It must have been love, but it’s over now. It was all that I wanted, now I’m living without.”

Beca doesn’t notice the equally distraught Chloe as she walks away in the exposit direction. “It must have been love, but it’ over now. It’s where the water flows. It’s where the wind blows…” She doesn’t get too far, as Mike grabs her and throws her over his shoulder. Laughing the night away together with Benji and Jesse.

Chloe hears the laughter and sees the four. She quickly hides behind a wall and peeks to see what’s going on. They don’t seem to notice her, being too drunk and busy, trying to keep Beca on Mikey’s shoulder.

Having just seen the brunette, even from a distance. Chloe knows what she has to do, there is no way she could stay here. She had to go, as far away as possible. No time for goodbyes. No time for explanation, I’m sorry’s’ or feelings. With a steady pace Chloe walks further away from the party, from her sister and Beca Mitchel.

She makes it home around 30 minutes later after hailing a cab. She rushed to her room and quickly packs her suitcase. The only thing she leaves out is her bride’s maid dress. She leaves it on the bed, needing to really let go of her past that will become the future in a few hours time.

While packing her bag with her favourite book she brought over to read in her spare time, she finds an old picture of her and Beca being as happy as they ever had seemed to be. Sighing heavily, she shoves the picture together with the book in her bag and heads out to where the cab is still waiting for her, to take her to the airport.

In the car, she can’t help but look back at the picture that once used to bring her joy. She ponders about how she could talk to her sister about this later on. If her sister would ever talk to her again that is.

Finally deciding it’s time to fully let go, Chloe lets the old picture fly out of the moving cab as she sheds a single tear. Goodbye Beca. Goodby Puglia. Good luck Maddie.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca and chloe #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #walking on sunshine bechloe mini fic

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electronicyarn · 5 years ago

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NOT Live Blogging RWBY Vol. 7

Guess who has two thumbs and finally finished watching RWBY Volume 7? This gal! So I decided I’d post my thoughts on the volume. I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to properly live blog it, but I guess right now this is the best I can do.

(So is…is tumblr still a thing? Or has whatever company that owns it now finally run the site completely into the ground. Maybe the question I should be asking is: does anyone still follow my blog?)

I think in the interest of not rambling too wildly I’m going to organize my thoughts into broad categories. So, here we go.

Visuals

If nothing else, this volume was a feast for the eyes. I’m impressed that RWBY continues to noticeably improve its visuals with each Volume. Honestly, at this point I don’t see the need for further improvement. The character models are appropriately stylized, the backgrounds are gorgeous, and the last of the kinks have (finally) been worked out of the animation.

What I’m less enthused about is the costume design. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not bad. It’s just not great. Penny’s new design works. Ruby’s outfit is virtually identical to her last one, so she gets a pass. Weiss’s is close, oh so close. I like the basic design, but I think the colors needed some more tweaking. Blake’s outfit is…. Well, I don’t know. I think I’m going to call it mildly nonsensical. I’m digging the haircut though. (Same goes for Jaune!) Yang and Neo’s new clothes are so-so at best, and Cinder’s are downright awful. Strangely enough, it’s Team JN_R that wins the best-dressed award in my book. They’re new outfits look far better than Weiss’s, Blake’s, and Yang’s by a mile.

I guess I should count my blessings. After Neo and Cinder’s new outfits debuted at the end of Volume 6 I was afraid that everyone might end up looking like lampshades. Or maybe fetishists not fully committing to the part.

Story

Up until about Episode 10 I was going to call this volume the good twin to Volume 4’s evil twin. A volume of RWBY that lacked the high-highs and the low-lows that are so endemic of the franchise. The difference between the two being that Volume 4 was painfully mediocre, while Volume 7 was pretty good. But it turns out I was wrong. The entirety of Volume 7 was, in my opinion, nothing more than a build-up to the big finale. And what a finale it was! But maybe I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

The first episode really won brownie points with me for basically doing the bad part of Volume 6 (Team RWBY spitting in the face of authority) except doing it right. It turns out that authority figures aren’t always “whimsical” caricatures masquerading as antagonists. (Sorry, I really hated Caroline, and not in a good way.) It also turns out that sometimes the authorities aren’t utterly incompetent. In many ways the Ace-Ops arresting Team RWBY reminded me of a less extreme version of the ending of the fourth Hunger Games movie. Specifically the part where Katniss and company decide to storm the castle and utterly fail. You know, the part where the movie transformed from an uninspired parody of itself to the absolute highlight of the entire franchise?

And then a bunch of stuff happened, some of which I’ll discuss in the next section. And then there were some really great fights. Oh yes, and then Salem shows up. Bye-bye Atlas! You. Are. Outta here!

Honestly, the only thing I didn’t much care for story-wise was Penny becoming the new Winter Maiden. It’s not because I don’t like the concept; it’s because it feels like they didn’t put any thought into the idea other than “let’s make Penny the Winter Maiden”. I’ll withhold judgment for now. It’s only fair that I wait and see where they go with it.

Characters

Believe it or not, I don’t have much to say about Team RWBY themselves in this section. Development-wise this volume was almost exclusively focused on other characters. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, although it wouldn’t be my first choice if I had my druthers. Honestly, Weiss, Blake, and Yang’s character arcs have largely been concluded at this point. Only Ruby’s left with outstanding issues regarding her mother. So…yeah. Maybe that bodes poorly for the franchise’s future now that I think about it? Or at least my own personal enjoyment of it? Eh, I’ll worry about that later. I should talk about all the other characters!

Team JN_R – I was a bit surprised at the lack of Jaune-related content this volume. They didn’t even deign to make him suffer much. But with a cast as big as RWBY’s, it’s not the first time we’ve seen a character take a volume off as it were. The big news here is that they actually attempted to give Ren a character and bring him into conflict with Nora. I…. Well, I don’t really think they succeeded, to be honest. As is a common problem in RWBY, there really wasn’t enough time to let the idea be fully realized. But I appreciate the effort.

The Ace-Ops – Oh, I had these guys pegged as the volume’s final bosses from the get-go. And I was not disappointed. As one-off antagonists, they worked. I can’t remember any of their names though. Except for Clover’s, and I’ll talk about him and Qrow in the section below.

Penny – It’s about time she came back. We all knew that was going to happen, right? And while I’m on the subject, Pietro was a nice side character too.

Oscar – He was there.

Robyn – I’m not sure what to say about her, to be honest. She was a good enough character, and played her role in the story well. But I never felt like she rose above her role.

Neo – You know who my favorite RWBY character is? It’s Yang, obviously. And do you know who the most strongly characterized RWBY character is? It’s the late Roman Torchwick of course. But do you know who takes second place in both of those categories? Neo. Kind of ironic for that second one given that she doesn’t speak. Neo did not disappoint this volume. She never disappoints. And I’ve said it before, on this very blog I think. In terms of raw-skill, Neo is one of the most dangerous characters in the RWBY-verse. Team JN_R vs. Neo? No contest. Although I am amused that Jaune got the only real hit on her. I’m even more amused that it somehow felt appropriate.

Cinder – Again I continue to really like post-Volume 4 Cinder. No matter how hard she tries, the universe just won’t stop kicking her in the teeth. And it just fits her character so well. Bravo Rooster Teeth!

Winter – Winter’s battle might not have been the most fun. That goes to Neo vs. some bush leaguers. It might not have been the most creative. That goes to Team RWBY vs. the Ace-Ops. But by God, no one put in more effort than Winter. She has my utmost respect.

Weiss’s Mom – Hey, she exists! Nice!

Dr. Watts – So much smarm. So much arrogance. I should hate him, but I really don’t. He’s just great.

Ironwood – And the best for last. Oh my. Oh my, oh my, oh my. His arc this volume was absolutely perfect. It was given enough time to be believable, amazing for a show like RWBY, and every step along his journey made sense. He’s become my absolute favorite kind of antagonist, the kind that believes what they’re doing is right. And here’s the thing, I can’t say that Ironwood is wrong. I don’t think he’s right, but I can’t say that he’s wrong. Give me an Ironwood over a Tyrian any day of the week. Please give me an Ironwood over a Tyrian.

The Gay Agenda

*singing* Qrow has a boyfriend….

Er…. Qrow had a boyfriend. And then Clover got Bury Your Gays’d. I’m kind of disappointed, but I’m kind of not. After all, the universe has long since ordained that it is Qrow’s lot in life to suffer.

To tell the truth I’m deeply divided on how I feel about RWBY’s take on the gays. The homoromantic subtext between Yang and Blake has reached levels equivalent to Season 3 of Xena: Warrior Princess. And Qrow and Clover were about there too. On one hand, I’m happily drinking it all up. On the other hand, I want to call Rooster Teeth a bunch of cowards. It’s not 1999 anymore. You can make characters gay. RWBY has made (side) characters gay. At best I’m expecting them to pull a Legend of Korra and only make things “official” at the very end of the show, a resolution I found deeply unsatisfying. But if I were running the show, would I do things differently? Well, yes I would. But would it be the correct decision from a revenue perspective? I’m assuming that RWBY is a, let’s say, important show for Rooster Teeth. I base this assumption on the fact that they announced three RWBY-adjacent spin-offs just after Volume 7 finished. Perhaps they feel they can’t take any risks with something so popular? Perhaps they don’t particularly care. Again, I don’t know how to feel about it.

Conclusion

Homoromanticism aside, (Never!) is Volume 7 the best volume ever? It might be. Only Volumes 1 and 5 can contend with it for consistent high quality. If I had to declare one volume as the best overall, this would probably be it. That being said, I doubt anything will ever supplant the Yang and Blake vs. Adam fight in Volume 6 as my favorite part of RWBY. I still can’t believe they paid that off so well. Three years of anticipation and they fulfilled my every expectation.

Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Volume 7. It was good.

#RWBY #Live Blogging #Volume 7 #Spoilers

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fusion-ego · 5 years ago

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So... 2019, huh?

((LONG post ahead!))

This year has really been something, hasn’t it? I had to quit my second job ever because of my back problems (along with other shit lol), I hardly wrote anything all year, and I started in on my Bachelor’s degree. I moved 1600 miles cross-country to Arizona and I’ve been down here for six months now! I had to leave my Markiplier Nudes Calendar™ back in Illinois because I forgot to take it off my wall before I left and it probably got thrown away by the landlord :c, I let my parents borrow a credit card for the move down here and went into debt as a result of almost single-handedly financing the move, had several breakdowns, and despite my best attempts I haven’t been able to get a job yet, but I’m still trying!

A lot of things happened this year.

I turned 20.

I started liking myself again after years of literally hating myself and that quickly advanced to me loving myself again. Turns out I’m pretty cool, even if I am annoying as fuck.

Turns out that having primarily depressive episodes and not having the motivation or desire to take care of myself doesn’t make me any less of a person. It doesn’t make my struggles invalid just because I’m the one not taking care of myself. It turns out, taking care of yourself is fucking hard sometimes, especially if the combined symptoms of your mental and physical ailments put you in a position where everything feels like too much.

It also turns out that taking care of yourself is difficult when you’ve spent your entire life (or at least the parts where you actually had friends) putting all of the wants and needs of your friends and loved ones above your own.

Taking care of yourself is hard when you were raised to be The Strong One, who doesn’t break down and who doesn’t have any issues, thanks. The one who, sure, they haven’t showered in a week and they feel like crap because they haven’t eaten, but you don’t need to know that! You just go eat and take a shower, hun, The Strong One is okay.

It took until this year for me to learn that being The Strong One didn’t mean I couldn’t break down sometimes. It didn’t mean I couldn’t take time for myself and that I had to be available all the time for my friends. Setting boundaries has been a learning experience for me and everyone else in my friend group, I think. I think I’ve cried more this year than I have since I was a kid, and you know what that is? Growth.

And honestly, I’ve really gotta thank my lovely fiance @goreyglitches for some of that. I am petrified of crying when anyone can see or hear me. I was raised to be The Strong One and The Strong One doesn’t cry. I conditioned myself to not be a “crybaby” and to never, ever, ever cry. And I know that’s bad - repressing negative emotions just makes it worse in the long-run. I figured that out with anger and tried to fix it long before I tried to fix the crying issue, and this year? This year Tobi’s helped a lot. I trust him, and I feel safe with him, so when he shuts the door and pulls the covers over us and holds me and tells me it’s okay to cry, I cry. And I am so grateful to him for that I don’t think I even have words.

And @ashencreations has been a wonderful friend this year, as always, even if both of us have been having issues this year. They’ve, I think, been one of the people I vented to the absolute most and they’ve been a real peach about it and even if I don’t have a whole lot of energy to talk sometimes (most of the time) they still love me and are accommodating of my issues. That’s pretty cool! I know a lot of people who can’t talk to people they’ve dated in the past and I have to admit I wouldn’t have been surprised if we fell out this year, but here we are - finishing another year as best friends. They let me have my space and they check in to make sure I’ve eaten and slept and showered. And I try to do the same but my check-ins have been a little lackluster this year while I find my boundaries so oops for that. I’ll try harder next year!

And really, I have to thank everyone who’s stuck with me through this year. My friends and my followers and even just folks who know me because I’m mutuals with someone they’re friends with - all of you. I know this year has sucked and I’ve been really annoying and I’m constantly asking for money, so thank you for sticking around. I’m trying to get back into the old swing of things and I’ve put in about a billion applications and I’m in University, can you believe that? You guys being patient even when I’m annoying has been really helpful. This is especially true of the folks in Lexi’s server who have to see me venting all the time. Y’all are darlings and I’m sorry I keep dragging my shit in there lmao I’ll try not to so much next year.

I’m especially thankful, though, I think, of the people who are still with me after so many years of knowing me. Like Ran and Ness and Zare and Comedy and even Em, even if we don’t talk. I mean, Em probably the most - she knew me when I was such a shithead that it’s kinda laughable now and yet she’s willing to be mutuals with me now. That’s pretty funny. (Hey, Em, guess who’s still trying to figure out how to write that TMNT thing and make it as interesting as the original idea was?) And of course I’ve known Comedy since elementary school but we didn’t really get close until high school and then I dropped off the face of the earth for like a year lol but she’s been a peach the whole time I’ve known her. And Ran’s been around for a while, we’ve known each other long enough that he probably still remembers when I went by Al. And Ness, who doesn’t have tumblr to my knowledge, well I’ve known her since diapers and she’s going to be the Maid of Honor at mine and Tobi’s wedding when we have the money to do a real ceremony - I would have filled that place at her wedding, too, if her sister-in-law wasn’t a needy bitch who had to have that position or she’d pitch a fit and ruin the entire wedding. And like, don’t even get me started on Zare, who was there when I was the worst shithead I’ve ever been and somehow still likes me even all these years later. I introduced myself to this man as Prussia, y’all. I introduced myself to him as a fallen kingdom because it was easier to pronounce than my legal name.

(It may have also been because I was into Hetalia and projected onto the character really hard because of all the “I’m awesome!” and thought it would help me be more confident, and also perhaps because my legal name being mispronounced led to a lot of people knowing me as a different fallen kingdom so it was a haha funny joak to me)

Also, this year, a certain vine-man turned youtube-man made a video that really, really spoke to me. Thomas introducing Remus and having an entire episode about intrusive thoughts and ‘bad’ creativity was - it meant a lot to me. Because since 2018, when I started writing Ego stuff, I haven’t... Well, I used to write a lot of dark stuff, y’all. I wrote violent shit because I wanted to and it was kinda just my Thing™. But after I started writing Ego stuff I started feeling like that was problematic, like it was a bad thing that I wanted to write nasty stuff like that. No one did anything to make me think that! It was just that, well, that kind of violence just... Seemed out of place. I’ve been in the process of writing a 146K+ word, 43 chapter fic containing ritualistic cannibalism, murder, unsafe sex, and various other nasty things since 2017 and I spent a terrifying amount of time feeling... Bad for that last year and this year. I’ve had to re-learn that it’s okay to write nasty stuff (no matter the moral issues other people take with it) because exploring not-so-great things in fic, especially to cope, is one of the many points of writing fic. And I’ll be honest, my dumpster fire fic was something I was writing to get through my associate’s degree because it was a new and terrifying experience and the prominent theme of running away was a feeling I was dealing with in tandem at the time. Remus’ introduction reminded me that dealing with intrusive thoughts and exploring the ‘bad’ creativity doesn’t make me a bad person, it just means I have nasty ideas and even the best people can have those. At least I can turn them into something I’m proud of writing.

So, going forward, I’m not going to shy away from writing my nasty stuff, and in 2020 I’m going to try and finish Trial and Error. I haven’t updated it since August, 2018, guys, it needs a new chapter.

And on that note, I don’t usually make New Years’ Resolutions. I never saw the point in the past and it wasn’t something super encouraged by anyone around me, so it never seemed important. But I’m making a resolution this year.

Over the years and years of writing, I’ve encountered something I think every writer encounters - I stopped writing. Now, I’m not saying I don’t write. Obviously I do, and have been, for a long time. I’m saying I don’t write like I used to. In 2013/2014 I wrote a 36-chapter Sly Cooper fic featuring an OC that still gets hits to this day, and I wrote it over the course of three months. I started it in November 2013 and it was done and put aside by the third of January 2014. It’s still one of my favorites! But the chapters are short, the storyline needs work, I didn’t spellcheck anything or even remotely try to keep my timeline completely straight. It was the first multi-chapter story exceeding 10 chapters that I ever finished. I wrote a chapter a day, as long as I was capable of doing so, I posted it, and I never looked back. It’s not a great story, but it’s one of my favorites. I loved it then and I love it now. And that’s something I don’t do anymore! When a fic doesn’t live up to my expectations, I don’t love it like I love that old fic, which did not at all live up to my expectations. My perfectionism has developed over the years and it has killed my creativity. I can still make cool stuff, can still make things I like, but it’s not the same anymore.

So my resolution is, in 2020, I’m going to write.

I’m going to write like I used to, but I’m going to put all of my experience into it.

I started writing in 2008 or 2009, maybe even before that - if I can recapture the love I had for it then, then I will be in great shape. I didn’t spellcheck back then and frankly I kinda sucked at writing even in 2013/2014, but if I can love writing like I did then and put all of what I’ve learned into it? Holy shit. I mean, I’ve been rewriting that old Sly Cooper fic for the past couple weeks, so it’s not exactly a mystery how much better things will turn out if I pour my much better spelling and grammar, my better ideas, my better commitment, into my fics going forward. All I need to make them great is to love doing it.

So in 2020, I’m going to write.

2019 has been a wild ride, and I’ve written less than half of what I wrote in 2018, not even counting all of my Ego requests for either year. I’ve spent the last three days in a mad dash to reach 100K written this year on AO3 by writing 30K before midnight tonight. I have 5K left! But even breaching 100K I won’t be halfway there. In 2018 I wrote 225.6K on AO3, not counting Ego stuff. And I think that’s because I haven’t loved doing it like I used to - the fact that I’ve loved the fic I started in order to make my “30K by tonight” goal and I haven’t let myself have enough time to agonize over whether it’s “good” or not has a lot of effect on how much I’ve written. My wordcount per hour has, like, doubled because I actually wanted to work. So I’ll reach my goal by tonight and still have time to celebrate at midnight.

So, again, thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me through this crazy year. Things haven’t been great, I’ll be honest, but I’m hoping next year will be better. They’re already off to a good start - my dad and I have a plan for him to start paying me back for how much money we spent moving here, and if I can get a job it’ll only get easier and it’ll only get better. And on top of that me and Tobi have plans to legalize our Marriage™ in September. It won’t be anything big - we’re waiting to have a real ceremony until we have the money to make sure Zare and Ness and Ran can come. But if all goes well, on 9/20/20 we’ll have the legal shit sorted out and Tobi will officially be my husband so that’s just another thing to be looking forward to.

Happy New Year, y’all! Hope you all have a good one. I speak a good 2020 into existence and I won’t stop until I get it.

#happy new year #long post #personal #sort of #new years eve 2019 #new years 2020

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forestwater87 · 6 years ago

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The absurdly-overdue Niekki post

I don’t think I realized it until I answered a Ma//kk//i ask a few days ago, but I fucking love Nikki and Neil as a ship. It’s just really cute and sweet, they make perfect sense together, and if I was a betting nerd I’d call them endgame.

And they’re also the least popular ship in the entire fandom. Including the gross ones.

And it honestly comes as such a surprise to me, because thinking it over, I realized something completely fucking bonkers that I don’t think anyone has paid much attention to:

Neil/Nikki has a stronger canon basis than any other ship in Camp Camp, by miles.

Yes, more than Gwe//nvid.

That should tell you how dead-fucking-serious I am about this ship.

Season 1, Episode 1: Escape from Camp Campbell

These two spent an entire who-knows-how-long bus ride together, as the only people on that bus (QM doesn’t count as people and you know it), both of them convinced they were going to entirely separate camps.

I want more than anything on this earth to know what that conversation was like. Nikki being such an enthusiastic and chatty little bean, there’s no way she didn’t talk his ear off the entire time and we were robbed of that conversation, Rooster Teeth.

MAKE IT RIGHT, ROOSTER TEETH.

Season 1, Episode 2: Mascot

They went on a fun little adventure together, without Max! They risked life and limb and found a new mascot and learned about each other and held hands and it was so cute and sweet -- and I failed to take a single screencap of it, because like everyone else I somehow missed that this ship is perfect and everything I ever needed. But I do have a picture of them bonding with David, so:

“Bonding.”

Season 1, Episode 3: Scout’s Dishonor

Not only do I have no pictures from this episode because it doesn’t include David and when I first started watching/screencapping I was a total slut for that good tree boy, but the Camp Camp wiki has no pictures from this episode. WHY DOES NO ONE WANT TO ACKNOWLEDGE HOW GOOD THIS SHIP IS?!

Anyway, picture-less: Neil explores his gender, is exposed to basically the camp of his dreams, and in the end decides to abandon it because Nikki gives him the sweetest most vulnerable smile --

Man, a picture would sure go down smooth right here, huh? Too bad no one cares about these two or their interactions, my 2016 self apparently included. (My 2019 self is currently doing this during some downtime at work, hence not just pulling up new caps. If I must suffer, y’all must suffer.)

-- and then they fly away together on a bird Nikki summoned! And Neil thinks that’s the coolest shit ever, and the awe in his face and voice when she shows the Flower Scouts Timothy is really good and HOW? HOW DID NO ONE NOTICE?!

They learn about each other and accept one another even though they’re not exactly alike, and it’s one of the more wholesome parts of the entire show.

ETA: JUST KIDDING I TOTALLY HAD A POST I FORGOT ABOUT! I’m keeping my comments in because they made me laugh though.

Season 1, Episode 4: Camp Cool Kidz

They’re on opposite sides of this conflict because Neil is on the side of his bro/boyfriend Max, but it doesn’t seem to damage their friendship at all. These two can forgive and forget like nobody’s business. (This also applies to Max and Nikki, yes. Makkiel4lyfe.)

Also she saw him shirtless. Mrow.

Season 1, Episode 5: Journey to Spooky Island

They . . . um . . .

Listen, not every episode is gonna have ironclad evidence, okay? Just look how cute they are and shut up.

Season 1, Episode 6: Reigny Day

Actually, Nikki’s kind of a dick to Neil in this episode. She doesn’t especially care if he’s dead and laughs at him for having a diary. This episode is really all about Max being Neil’s bro and looking for him when he goes missing.

Like I said, not all gold, but adorable.

Season 1, Episode 7: Romeo & Juliet: Love Resurrected

HE IS SO NERVOUS TO KISS HER OH MY GODDDDDD

And I think that’s all the incisive commentary this episode needs.

Season 1, Episode 8: Into Town

Neil is the first and only person to notice that something is wrong with Nikki; even though they didn’t spend a ton of time together this episode, they do have one of the more powerful emotional beats. He knows her arguably better than Max does, and can therefore more quickly recognize when she’s not herself (though how you miss that says less about Neil and more about what a single-minded revenge-obsessed monster Max is at this point in the show).

This is not the first time he notices that Nikki’s being mistreated and expresses concern, either. He’s much more protective of her than his often-selfish nature would imply.

Season 1, Episode 9: David Gets Hard

They spend the entire episode playing together! Bonding! This is basically what we can assume they’re doing whenever Max is off with David or Dolph or whatever scheme he has going on when he’s not with them, and the fact that they basically spend all their waking hours hanging out and being friends is just really lovely, especially considering how little they have in common and how few the things they’d both enjoy doing are.

It becomes clear that their friendship can survive without Max acting as an anchor, which, as anyone who’s been in a 3-person friendship can attest, is not always the case.

Season 1, Episode 10: Mind Freakers

Neil is such a jerk in this one, and I actually think it makes a really nice contrast. Nikki’s been mean to him in previous episodes, and in a very similar way; in “Reigny Day,” she cares less about his well-being than about having her own fun and exciting adventure. In this episode, Neil’s similarly too self-absorbed to worry about his friend’s personal safety -- albeit with much more disastrous (maybe? Is Nikki magic?) results.

But the way Nikki just trots along beside him down the path to hell and choking on magic scarves is adorable. She more or less always trusts him and does what he tells her to.

This is perhaps not the wisest idea, but Nikki isn’t known for her wisdom.

What’s the opposite of that “get you a man who” meme? Because this is not. Get a man who never does this.

That being said, the look on his face when he’s genuinely scared for her life and about to turn his back on everything he believes?

I ship it.

Season 1, Episode 11: Camporee

There’s literally nothing. They’re barely in this episode and I don’t think they interact at all. They can’t all be winners, I guess.

That being said, Max and Neil have this really cute moment and it should be appreciated. Anyway.

Season 1, Episode 12: The Order of the Sparrow

Shit, they’re not really in this one either! The closest we get to shipping fodder is Neilxplatypus.

I mean . . . Nikki is basically a wild animal, and apparently Neil is cool with that under very specific circumstances. It’s a stretch, but I still think there’s more than enough --

Holy shit.

Wait.

I’ve only done the first season so far! And this is long as balls! Oh my god, there’s no fucking way I’m doing all the episodes in this post. Niekki is getting a multi-post spectacular because they deserve it, damn it.

#campcamp #camp camp roosterteeth #cc nikki #cc neil #niekki #makkiel #cc max #maxneil a little bit #i bet i used a dumb word somewhere and this won't show up in the tags #so mutuals please spread far and wide?#because tumblr is trash and i bet it thinks this is not good for the children or something

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elastigirl72 · 6 years ago

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And so it was, a Greek Oddity

May 13: on the plane to Istanbul

And so it is. Clearwell>Athens. Done!

Not to dwell too much on Athens, but I loved it. What a city. I’ll be spending more time there in future. In fact, maybe the way forward is to fly there, buy a scooter and ride home along the route I’ve just done, taking in more of each place I visited...there’s a thought ☺️

Today, the buckle I’m doing up is my seatbelt and not my rucksack on a plane to Istanbul. I’ll be reflecting on this adventure for some time. It’s the longest by double, and my third unsupported. But sitting here waiting for the plane to lift off, and looking at the flight map, the plane is pointing directly at the route I’ve just travelled. To fly home, I’d cross two time zones, 3 seas, 11 countries and by air, would take 4-5 hours plus time to and from airports, let’s say in all, 9 hours each way. Flying would definitely be easier and quicker. A colleague of mine who has other interests doesn’t get it. Isn’t it obsessive? Boring even? What are you trying to prove? Let’s say you flew to Athens, you wouldn’t see, feel, hear, smell, sense in minuscule detail every metre that passed. You wouldn’t feel the elation of an unexpected mountain vista or the terror of a chasing pack of wild dogs. How could you see the vibrancy in millions of poppies coming into bloom alongside parched, arid fields? What chance would you have of seeing a snake poised to strike and 500 metres later, bright green Geckos just hanging out getting warm?

You wouldn’t have the opportunity of just getting through each day, eating for the miles you’ve either flown through or battled against, or met the people who will either leave a positive impact on your memory or something you’d rather forget. You wouldn’t wake up each morning trying to figure out where you are and what is happening that day, and whether in fact, you can actually stand, let alone move forward. Neither would you find out what you’re made of, both physically and mentally; what happens to the body when you put it under stress day after day? How does the mind deal with pain, stress, the unknown? How does your heart respond to something it’s never done before?

How do I feel today now I’m flying to work in Istanbul? With a day of rest, I could keep going. If I ever found myself in a situation where I’d lost my job or did not need to work anymore, right now, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d be off as soon as I’d packed my gear, and work my way around the globe, probably in a westerly direction, simply because I’ve now done one continent.

Have I learned anything on this trip? I guess that will take me a while to realise. But I’ll start with a few things.

Flexibility really works. It takes the pressure off if that’s what is needed but in order to have flexibility, there needs to be flex room built in. When I originally planned this trip, I’d booked all accommodation from Calais to the Alps. If I’d stuck with that, flexibility would be gone and I would have an unbending, rigid timeline for mileage each day. Going into the trip, I was undertrained, which I was prepared for. What I hadn’t prepared for was how strong the headwinds I would face for the first 10 days. And then the rain and headwinds for an overlapping period which made for 17 days of tough conditions. If I had stuck with the original plan of prebooked stops, I would have struggled with both fitness and motivation more than I already did. In my head, I’d already mentally prepared that snow might be a real showstopper in the Alps, and painful as it was, to take a train from Zurich to Bellinzona (the crossing point was always flexible due to weather conditions and I was annexed whichever way I went), it was a lot easier to accept knowing it was a possibility. The total mileage was more than a direct route to Athens even with one leg train journey and this is how I consoled the decision.

When it’s possible to rigidly plan, then rigidly plan. After losing a day in Venice, after reaching Trieste, the weather, whilst far from perfect, was better. I had only one contingency day, and feeling rested and confident in Trieste, I booked the next 5 nights accommodation down the Dalmatian Coast. That got me to Herceg Novi on schedule to then decide whether I wanted to go mountains or coast to Athens, depending on energy and weather.

From Herceg Novi onwards, I freestyled all the way to Athens, sometimes just pitching up at hotels and asking if they had a room. On balance, there was only one stop that I wouldn’t stop at again, and felt liberated travelling this way.

I still trust too much. Two occasions, I got myself into sticky situations because I look for the best in people. One day I will learn, but with it I will become cynical and suspicious...which doesn’t fill me with happy anticipation. Tricky.

You really don’t need much stuff to get by. By the end of my trip, I had a couple of shampoo sachets, cheap travel toothbrush, toothpaste, sun cream, antihistamine medication, my glasses and contacts, razor, two pairs of knickers, a bra, zip-trouser/shorts, t-shirt, hairbrush and other than the cycle gear I wore, camera and phone, that was it.

I really found it difficult to digest as much food as I needed to eat each day, but paying attention to fuelling the next day’s ride I truly believe this was the key to success. I am sure I have as much of a belly as I had before I left! But i never once ran out of energy. Nuts and dried fruit are a better moving food choice than M&Ms but the latter are just such a guilty pleasure and great for motivation! 😆

The next thing that was affirmed (I knew this already from many other endeavours) is that even if people aren’t physically on the road with you, it’s ok to “shout” for support. I actively did this, and a whole community of helpers materialised. Even when I didn’t actively look for support, it was always there...and love it or hate it, for me, it’s one of the blessings of social media. The reality is that only very close people will be thinking of you occasionally as you pedal along. But those are important, and those that are kind enough to take time to respond and give you a little boost, regardless of how big or small, it’s like a triple espresso when you need it most. I thank every single one, whether avidly following me and with me vicariously, or just the occasional like or comment.

My heart is strong, but so is my head. I’ve never felt so switched on and alive for so long. If you take a 4 week period in life, it’s never going to be a non-stop bed of roses and quadruple rainbows, where the sun always shines, birds always sing and everyone loves each other. Being on this trip has of course highlighted this, but it’s also reminded me again how bloody good cyclists are at literally pedalling on and leaving negative stuff behind them and looking forward. I don’t believe you can be a happy cyclist unless you can do this.

Movement and motion become autonomic when your heart controls movement, so regardless of how tired you are, just mount your bike, look forward and just keep rolling...

I 100% acknowledge how fortunate I am, both in life circumstances and in health to have this incredible opportunity. It’s not for everyone, and it’s not possible for everyone, even if it’s a dream. I’ve no doubt hacked a few people off with my continuous stream of progress, photos and observations. But I hope in equal measure or possibly tipping the scales more towards somehow the positive: that a group of oldies in Canada might visualise and anticipate each post, that a sibling or child can think that they can do this, and along the road, like the two Albanian girls I saw watching in fascination as I regrouped after border control, when I grow up, I’d like to have a go at that. She looks cool and friendly and that looks like a lot of fun. Whatever you do and however you do it, you’ll come across people who will want to shoot you down. I’m glad I’m not wasting my energy worrying about it and doing it anyway.

How do I feel about achieving my goal? It’s hard to answer right now. There are people out in the world doing great and brave things, sometimes because they have to and sometimes because they chose to, like me. My achievement, compared to many others is really insignificant in the scale of the globe and time. And it’s hard for me to ignore that. I guess how I feel is that despite pain, danger, risk, weather, and unexpected behaviour, I’ve not let it stop me, and for that I feel stronger than I thought I was. I am better at being alone than I thought I would be, and probably more obvious to other people than to myself until this journey, I’m pretty stubborn and persistent - not always great qualities! But I feel happy, there is an element of emotion just tinkering away in the background there, and I’m not done yet.

So, what’s next? I had to sell my Time Trial bike to get my head around this trip and focus. It’s clear that I am a distance junkie, whether it’s competing or adventure. I think I have to wait for the dust to settle before I can see that horizon. At 46, whilst I’m no spring chicken, there’s miles in me yet. Just where, when, how, why, who knows?

Things that make me happy on the road:

The first sign for the destination I’m heading for that day

A washing machine

Fabric softener

Hair conditioner

Moisturiser

Bread before started arrives

When Google gives the direction “Stay on this road for 24km”

Good pillows

Home made breakfast, namely my porridge

A friendly welcome

Generosity

A quiet road

A surprise vista

As I do, I have several tracks that have defined this, my most epic two-wheeled adventure to date. Some cheesy, some emotional, but definitely the soundtrack to my transcontinental European two-wheeled road trip....

Moving: SuperGrass

Silver Lining (again): First Aid Kit

Arrival of the Birds: The Cinematic Orchestra

Re:member: Olafur Arnalds

Higher Love: Steve Windwood

Big Log: Robert Plant

Broken Land: The Adventures

No Surprises: Radiohead

Crazy: Seal

Titanium: David Gueta

Hibernate: Celine Cairo

Jingle: Tash Sultana

Last night as I was drifting off to my final Greek land of sleep, I received a call from someone called Nikos. I was reluctant to accept a call from someone I didn’t know, but did anyway...

“Hello, this is Nikos from Hotel *****, why did you give me a bad review?”...[click]

As we land, the plane flight video shows the land below and the shadow of the plane. You can see the contours on the ground but not the details all passing at high speed: pretty much summarises in Technicolour the difference between flying and what my adventure means to the rest of the world, and what my Odyssey meant to me....

Thank you for being with me on this journey. I hope it’s not my last, but if it is, it was an absolute blast 🤩. Enjoy your next adventure!

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ackbang · 6 years ago

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i feel like it’s been awhile since i’ve posted a personal thing, and i feel a bit constipated about it all. i have a lot i want to talk about, but i feel like i have no outlet--that somehow i’ve finally reached a part of myself that is too personal to talk about. and it sucks. it sucks feeling pent up and confused and unable to express anything because i don’t trust a single thing i feel.

the past six weeks have been pretty life altering. i’ve gotten into probably the first really big tiff with my closets friends (and yes, i’m sure they will read this) in over 10 years. and although we have come to an impasse, i’m still not sure how to continue working through the situation without resorting to anger. i know it will resolve, and know that i love you all, but i feel very confused at how it even came to a head as it did. i am confused at how i have been contributing to the friendships, what i’ve done wrong, and what i needed to do to have done better. as it tends to be a common theme right now: i feel like i’ve been an imposter in these friendships. that somehow how i have been living in them, i have not expressed accurately. that the ways i’m feeling inside aren’t being expressed properly.

then i was in europe for two weeks, which was... amazing. i’m not sure what else to say about it. meeting alivewin was fantastic, and i’ve without a doubt left with a friendship that i know will last for many more years to come. i saw and experienced things that have already changed my perspective on so much. but the most surprising part of the trip was finding an appreciation for my own country. i found myself wanting to go home for many reasons. but i know i want to go back.

and through this whole time, i’ve decided to make lifestyle changes. i want to feel better about myself physically, because my issues with my looks have always been based on my weight. i’ve started dieting, walk about 4 miles a day, and have taken up jogging. as of this morning, i’ve lost 9lbs in 5 weeks. it feels amazing. i worry i may be overzealous, especially when i’m seeing and feeling actual progress. i need to keep myself in check so i don’t go about this unhealthily.

and all this rides on the coattails of an ever present pestering of gender. i’m exploring a bit of my physical body with the addition of making efforts of being healthier, and it’s been... interesting. like now that i finally invested in a good binder that’s comfortable and easy to breathe in, and then not wearing it for a day actually makes me deeply uncomfortable?? it’s been driving me to consider how much of my issues with sexuality and sex and body image and confidence and all of those things have been because of being female. i’ve always been one to stick to guidelines--my life is often more black or white than it is grey. i’m ok with considering myself genderqueer or genderfluid or whatever convoluted shit it could be... but i’m also not ok with it. i can be whoever i want to be and i don’t need to explain myself to anybody, including myself... but i do. i’m angry. i’m confused. and i’m burying it. i’m balling it up and burying it, and it’s making even more angry. and my outlet for getting it out--writing--just seems like too much. it’s too personal. it’s too fake. i’m fake.

i said it in another post, or maybe it was a tea time, i don’t know... but i feel like i’m looking on the other side of a mirror. socially and physically and emotionally. like everything i’m exposing to people isn’t at all matching up with what’s going on inside, and somehow it’s slowly fucking things up. like there’s just miscommunications between my intentions and with how i’m actually interacting with people. for the past few years i’ve noticed a decline in my ability to keep enthusiastically engaged in... anything, really... i guess i’m just starting to finally fail at faking it.

i feel like this is coming off much more depressing than i feel. all things considered, i’m doing well. i’m just frustrated and angry. i need time to figure myself out. a lot has happened in the past month and a half, and i need to really process it all. i’m unsure how long it will take, but... we’ll see.

#ack misses livejournal

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cynicallystiles · 7 years ago

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Beach Sunrises: In My Blood

Author: @cynicallystiles

Warning: None, except that Shawn is a cinnamon roll.

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Abbreviations: y/h/c - your hair color

Summary: While on tour one day, Shawn sees a woman watching the sunrise by herself. Thinking that he’ll never see her again, he tries to forget as he goes on with the rest of his day. But, serendipity seems to have other ideas...

Notes: I was in a mood and will continue to be in a mood as I write this series. As always, thanks @sassysweetstories for your constant support and encouragement. You are truly my Tumblr ride or die. Love you!

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2

Words: 3,708

An ordinary day. That's all today is. Just one out of 365 ordinary days. Except the fact that yesterday was my birthday. And none of my friends seem to have remembered. I would've thought that they'd have given up the rouse of forgetting and surprise me with a hangout or something. But, they never did. I woke up early today for some reason. It's not quite sunrise yet.

I decide to treat myself with a trip to one of my favorite spots. The beach. I take my shoes off and put my earbuds in, just trying to connect myself with the world somehow. As I walk just barely out of the tide's reach, the sarong I have tied over my jean shorts flaps in the gentle breeze. It's the perfect kind of breeze. You know the one that cools you down on a warm day, but it's not so cool that you start to shiver. It's perfectly medium.

My wavy hair is pulled back into a loose and low ponytail. Sunglasses rest comfortably on top of my head while I wait for the sun to come. I close my eyes as I walk and really feel everything the beach has to offer. It's the middle of the week and an ungodly hour of the morning, so it's pretty isolated right now. Which I enjoy. No sounds except the music that makes my heart flutter and makes me feel content.

I'm all alone out here on this beach at this hour, and I guess that's how I prefer it. As long as I'm by myself I don't have to worry about anyone else. Not their opinions, not their standards, and I especially don't have to worry about being hurt. I stay transient and fluid. No romantic relationship lasts too long. I can't handle the pressures of monogamy.

Probably because I hate being boxed in. I feel like committing yourself to one person forever is unrealistic. Like being an adult is supposed to let you breathe your own air, but a relationship means you hardly get to just sit and catch your breath. I'm aware that probably sounds like I have commitment issues. And I won't deny that I probably do. All I know is that now is when I'm supposed to be finding out who I am and what I want. How am I supposed to do that if I'm stuck worrying about how my self-discovery is affecting someone else?

The track I'm on ends, and I decide to put my phone away so I can listen to the waves and the wind. I find a spot where I'll have a good view of the sunrise and sit down. After curling my knees to my chest, I hug them and rest my chin on top. I stare out at the horizon, waiting for the first peak of the sun. Why can't the rest of my life be as relaxing as right now?

Third P.O.V.

Shawn had woken up like he usually does, early in the morning. He completes his work-out at the hotel gym per routine. As he walks back to the elevator, he looks out of the lobby windows and sees that the sun is about to rise. Having nothing but time to kill until very much later in the morning, he decides to take a light jog along the beach as he watches the sunrise.

About a half of a mile down the beach, he slows to a stop. Wanting to stand still and watch it rise. Touring a lot gets him exhausted, but it's all worth it with moments like this. As the sun begins to show over the horizon, he notices a figure being outlined. He hadn't noticed before, but with every ray of light that rises, she comes into view.

There's a girl. Or a woman. Not really sure at what age you stop calling someone a girl. She sits in the perfect spot to watch the sunrise. No obstructions, no one else around to bother her. She looks contemplative as she hugs her knees to her chest and watches the display wistfully. He carefully edges closer, wanting to get a better look but not wanting to scare her.

He wonders why she's out here at this hour all by herself. He wonders even more about why she looks so conflicted and sad. As the sunrise begins to paint the sky in a symphony of colors, she stands up. The sunglasses on her face shield her eyes as she stares out at the water. Shawn is most intrigued by what she does next. She simply spreads her arms out beside her, soaking in the sun. Her head tilts back and Shawn can see her taking deep breaths.

The cloth tied around her waist dances in the light winds near her calves. It's a picture so beautiful that Shawn can't help but capture it. He takes out his phone and carefully takes a short video of the stunning woman silhouetted by the sunrise, her hands dancing in the light. He'll later post it to Instagram with the caption, "Such a beautiful city, with such beautiful locals. Lucky to have witnessed this moment."

But for now, he'll settle for looking at the sunrise. And her.

First P.O.V.

The first ray of light makes its appearance, and I continue to watch it thoughtfully. I flip my sunglasses down and take in the beautiful view. It continues to rise and I prepare myself to leave my solitude for uncomfortable interactions at college. Standing up, I dust sand off of myself.

I wish I could live in moments like this all the time. Moments that make you feel like you're on an island of paradise in a sea of uncertainty. Moments that can't be touched by the outside world. It's just you and the earth, taking each other in. I spread my arms out beside me, taking in the good vibes of the sunrise while simultaneously sending good vibes back.

The breeze catches my sarong and I feel recharged. I weave my fingers through the wind soaking in the peace for just a second longer. Once I feel an optimal amount of good energy, I shake my muscles loose and turn away from the now risen sun. I walk back along the waves to the beachside hotel where I left my backpack for school.

As I enter the hotel lobby, I head straight for the front desk. The concierge smiles at me as I approach. "How was the sunrise today?"

"Oh, you know..." I say contentedly as I lean my arms up on the desk. "Refreshing as always. Just immaculately beautiful, but different than any others." I smile, reminiscing in my private moment with the sun.

He laughs as he listens to me gush. "Y/n, you say the same thing every time you come back in from the sunrise. Or sunset. Or just a quiet day on the beach!" He teases lightheartedly.

"And every time it's true!!" I say taking a deep, happy breath. "I have to get going. Bag?" I change the subject.

He shakes his head playfully, but reaches under the desk and heaves up my backpack. "Don't be late for your shift this afternoon," he warns.

"Thanks, Xander," I reply knowingly as I pull my arms through the straps. I lean over the desk and kiss him on the cheek quickly.

Before I retreat from the desk, he grabs my arms and holds me in place. "Do not look now, but an insanely hot guy has been watching you this entire time," he whispers conspiratorially.

"What? Who?" I say as I slip out of his hands and turn around obviously. As I glance around the barren lobby, my eyes come to land on guy leaning against a column. He has his hood up and he's wearing sunglasses. Hard to tell if he's actually attractive under that.

I turn back to Xander, who has his head in his hands dramatically. "I told you not to look!" He says as he looks up at me.

"I don't have time for this! I'm gonna be late for my lecture," I say exasperatedly. "Besides, he's not even looking over here."

He rolls his eyes. "Because you spooked him," he whispers. "Trust me. I saw him leave the gym and go out to the beach. You came in and he was shortly behind you," he explains.

"Coincidental. People watch sunrises," I rationalize. "Also, you don't even know if he's hot. I have to go," I say with an eye roll as I head to my car.

Third P.O.V.

As Shawn watches the girl walk down the beach, he realizes that he should get back to his room. Daylight means paparazzi. And he didn't have his bodyguards to watch out for him at this moment. He walks several yards behind her. All the while she never notices him.

Before entering the lobby, he pulls up his hood and puts on his sunglasses as some sort of disguise. He leans against a column as he watches the woman and the concierge have a friendly conversation. In the light, he can see her wavy y/h/c hair shining. Shawn becomes aware that the concierge has noticed him staring, so he busies himself with his phone. He takes this moment to post the sunrise video to his pages.

Glancing up through his sunglasses nonchalantly, he sees her turn around and glance at him. Just as quickly, she exchanges more words and then leaves the lobby. He still has no idea who she is or what she looks like apart from hair color. But he finds her intriguing.

He heads over to the desk to speak with the concierge. He seems startled, and frantically shuffled papers to seem busy.

"Uh, excuse me?" Shawn asks politely.

The concierge looks up and stares at Shawn. "Yes, sir. How may I help you?" He asks professionally after clearing his throat.

"Yeah. Um..." Shawn looks at the name tag on the man before continuing. "Xander? I was just wondering when breakfast is served..." He unconvincingly asks.

Xander eyes him for a moment, wondering why he looks so familiar. He can't tell with the hood and glasses though. "Breakfast is served from 8-10 on weekdays," he informs Shawn.

An uncomfortable silence hangs between the two. Shawn doesn't move to leave and Xander feels as though he can't move around behind his desk while someone is standing there. "Was there anything else I can help you with?"

"Oh! Um...actually, yeah," Shawn confesses. "The girl you were talking to..." He trails off, not sure what he wants to ask about her. "Is she..."

Xander interrupts his awkwardness. "I will only answer one question you have about her," he states as he looks back down at the log book for the day. He was quickly becoming suspicious of this strange guy paying attention to his coworker and friend.

Shawn stands there silently, carefully considering what he wants to ask. Her name? Is she single? What was she doing out there? He settles on a question. "What is she doing tonight?"

"Alright...not the question I was expecting," Xander replies carefully. "She has a shift here at the hotel tonight. Or so she thinks," Xander answers.

Shawn raises his eyebrows curiously.

Xander is terrible at keeping secrets, so he eagerly continues his reply. "It was her birthday yesterday. As a surprise...all of her friends chipped in to buy her a great present. So, we will be going out tonight for her late birthday present," he finishes proudly.

"Where are you taking-" Shawn begins to ask more, but is immediately cut off by Xander.

"I said one question. Now respectfully, I have work to do. So," he makes shooing gestures with his hands.

Reluctantly, Shawn heads back to his room. He spends the entire morning distracted by thoughts of the mysterious girl. Only when his manager visits him to talk about the plans for tonight's concert, does she finally leave his mind.

First P.O.V.

Classes go by agonizingly slow. At least I still have my positive vibes from this morning. I can't help but smile to myself as I drive back to the hotel. I pull into the garage and park in the workers' section. I heave my bag onto my shoulders, determined to get homework done on all of my breaks tonight.

As soon as I enter the break room for hotel staff, I'm greeted with loud claps and cheers of "SURPRISE!" I cover my mouth, shocked at the display in front of me. I laugh happily as I see all of my friends with party hats on, balloons and streamers strung up around the room.

I walk to the center of the room where all of my friends surround me and a cake with lit candles. I'm literally almost crying at this point because I'm actually surprised. "You guys!!!" I exclaim.

"We knew the only way we could surprise you was if you thought we forgot completely," Xander explains.

I pull him into a hug. "Well, it worked! This is amazing..." I say in awe as I look at everyone.

"Awww what's wrong?" Xander asks worriedly.

I wave my hand at my face, trying to fan away the forming tears. "Nothing, I'm just grateful for you guys. But, I have to go to work in thirty minutes," I say sadly.

"Ah...but you don't," my friend Anna says giddily.

I look at Xander for answers. "I may have convinced someone to take both of our shifts so we could take you somewhere special..."

"Wait, where are we going?" I ask excitedly after meeting his eyes.

They all look at each other knowingly to build up the suspense. Finally, they all shout simultaneously, "WE'RE GOING TO A SHAWN MENDES CONCERT!!"

"So you go get on your best concert outfit," Xander says while pointing at me forcefully.

"Because the party bus leaves in 15!!!" Anna finished the statement.

"And by party bus, she means all of our cars," Xander explains with a shrug.

I quickly head to the room that I rent and change into my "best concert outfit." I take my hair out of its ponytail and brush it quickly before returning excitedly. "Let's do this! You guys are the best!" I gush as we all split up into cars to head to the concert.

Third P.O.V.

"Shawn! Show starts in half an hour! Where ya at?" His manager calls through the dressing room door.

Shawn stares at himself in the mirror. "Yeah! I'm in here!" He calls back and the door immediately opens.

"What are you doing?? We gotta get everything good to go," he explains hurriedly.

Shawn sighs to himself. "I was just thinking by myself for a bit," he explains honestly.

"Anything I should be concerned about?"

He shakes his head as he smiles at his manager's reflection. "Nah. Let's go," he says enthusiastically as he leaves the dressing room.

After following his manager, who's running around like a chicken with its head cut off, for a majority of the half hour they finally position Shawn under the trap door that he'll come out of. A stagehand gives him a guitar and he positions the strap over his shoulder. He shakes out his shoulders nervously before staring at the door in determination.

He hears the crowd cheer as someone announces the show's start. After one final deep breath, he makes his way onto the stage. The cheers growing louder.

First P.O.V.

We finally make it to our seats after waiting in a ridiculously long line at the gate. We are actually in surprisingly good seats. Probably second or third row, I think.

"How did you guys afford seats this good?" I ask over the noise of all the other fans.

Xander just shakes his head as he continues to watch the stage like a hawk. "Nothing but the best for the birthday girl!! Now pay attention! It's starting!!" He exclaims.

We all face forward as someone announces the beginning of the show. The entire place erupts in cheers as they all wait for him to get onstage. As soon as he begins to appear, everyone loses their shit even more. Wild screaming and clapping. All these little girls are acting like animals doing a mating call or something.

I laugh and shake my head as I clap. Then, I cup my hands around my mouth and let out a loud "Whoo!" I couldn't help myself. It's exciting.

I nudge Xander in the shoulder. He looks at me with the biggest grin on his face. "Thank you for this. Really, I needed it," I say over the cheers as Shawn steps up to his mic.

"Anything for my best friend!" He calls back before pulling me into a tight side-hug.

"How are y'all doin’ tonight?" Shawn asks into the microphone. More screams. "That's awesome! I'm gonna play some music for you guys." He smiles brightly as he adjusts his earpiece. He looks down at his guitar and begins the set.

He starts out with songs from the oldest album, smoothly transitioning into his second one. All the while he interacts with the crowd and gets us riled up. Xander and I are jumping up and down, singing the lyrics at the top of our lungs. We both dance to our hearts' content. Even though neither of us are anything spectacular. Hours and hours of fun with my friends. Things couldn't get better than this moment.

Shawn finishes the song he's on. Cheers ring out and he takes a drink of water as he waits for them to settle down. When its quiet enough, he begins speaking again. "So...there's something new I wanna play for you guys..."

Cheers. Screams. The usual happens. He chuckles nervously into the mic. From this distance, I can see the patches of pink on his cheeks and neck.

"This is a song that I've been working on for a while now and it's really close to my heart. So I hope you guys enjoy it," he states humbly. He smiles nervously again. For some reason, that smile causes me to break into a smile.

My stomach fills with butterflies as I wait to hear the new single. "Alright, guys. This is In My Blood," he says in a low tone before the song begins.

I freeze instantly as I listen to the words. A chord is struck in me. My heart beats faster and when he hits the chorus, my throat tightens. I take a deep breath as I take in this deeply personal song. I feel my eyes watering and I can't hold back the small tears that spill.

Somehow this song explains everything I've felt my whole life. I've never known how to explain this deeply intimate part of my life, and here it is in words. Being sung by this incredible singer/songwriter. I wipe my face discreetly as I watch him perform. His eyes close in concentration. I can see the veins in his neck protrude as he sings this beautiful song.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back. I listen to the honest words accompanied by amazing music. Without thinking, I spread my arms out beside me and sway slowly. The heel of my foot stomping in rhythm. I move my hands slowly, sort of like I'm composing it. I love music that makes me feel like this.

Like I'm standing on a secluded beach, watching the sunrise. The corners of my lips curl into a content and emotional smile.

Third P.O.V.

Shawn continues through his set pretty flawlessly. He's done it a bunch of times now, nothing really new. Except he keeps getting distracted by this guy in the front of the crowd. He looks very very familiar. But, he can't think of from where right now. It's in the back of his mind, bugging him for the entire set.

Towards the end of the show, Shawn stops to take a drink of water and let the crowd wind down. He's been saving his new song for last. Butterflies are wild inside of him as he announces the new song. He hasn't been this nervous for a while. But, this song is vulnerable. He wonders if fans will really like it or not.

The lighting for this song is brighter than the rest of the show so he can see the front few rows clearer now. Taking a deep breath, he goes for it. Everyone stands still in silence as they listen to the words. As the song progresses, the look like they really love it. All of them dancing and jumping up and down when the beat picks up slightly. All of them stare straight at him, cheering during the small instrumental breaks.

All except one. Shawn had opened his eyes after one lyric to have them rest on a girl in the third or fourth row. She stands immensely still as everyone around her moves. It was hard not to notice. Her eyes are closed in contentment and her head tilts back. As Shawn stares at this girl, he continues to play his guitar and sing.

Towards the end of the second verse, before the chorus, she spreads her arms out beside her and slowly floats her hands around. Eyes still closed, head still tilted back. Her hips sway entrancingly slow. Like she's dancing to the message and not the beat.

A smile creeps onto her lips. Widening with every note of music. When Shawn begins the hook, her eyes open slowly and she continues to look up. You'd almost think that she was having a religious experience. Shawn plays the last notes of the song and everyone cheers loudly. This snaps her out of her moment and her head tilts back down.

When her eyes dart around to see if anyone was looking at her weirdly, Shawn continues to hold his gaze. The crowd begins to quiet down, waiting for Shawn to say something else. She notices the quiet, and looks up at the stage expectantly. Just like everyone else.

But unlike everyone else, he was looking back at her.

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lightinalexandria · 3 years ago

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July 1st, 2021: Psychogeography and Coffeeshop Culture in Alexandria, Egypt يوليو ١

Several of my posts from two years ago talked about the daily routines and rituals of my life here in Alexandria. I'm pleased to report that the broad strokes haven't changed, but I'll add some layers on top.

Psychogeography: Credit to my dear friend Clem for giving me an intellectual framework for the crabwalk that is my daily commute across the city. You can read here about the idea of psychogeography.

I need to go vaguely northwest from home to school, and south east in the afternoon. It's about a mile and then some each way. The breeze coming off the Mediterranean Sea is always orienting, so I can't really go wrong. Every day, then, I left myself drift northwest in the morning, and southeast in the afternoon. I turn left or right based on permanent features like trees, and more often changing features like the amount of shade, the traffic on a given street at a given time, smells of food attracting or garbage repelling. It's rare that I take the same way twice in a week, which was deeply surprising to this creature of habit.

I don't think I've ever done this in my own city, or too many others. I want the most direct route, and I check the map. Here, I know it's about a half hour walking with infinite permutations, and every other day I find a shop or store or teahouse or old building to check out. And with the joy (or frustration, depending on the day) of simple successful transactions for food or services, my paths through the city are increasingly marked by shopkeepers or vendors to wave and say hello. It's a little thing, but it's also a big thing. I find my psychogeography subject to the tugs of these very loose social bonds, wanting to take a left and wave hello. I feel a sense of belonging in Alexandria that is wildly out of proportion with how long I've lived here, how well I can speak/read the language right now, and if I'm being honest the depth of my social network. Why? I wonder how much this plunge into psychogeography has to do with it, exploring and knowing a city like a child knows their neighborhood, capriciously and with all the senses. I want to remember to get on my bike and do the same when I'm back in Colorado.

Coffeeshop قهوة Culture

In Arabic it's pronounced "AH-who-ah," which means both coffee and coffeeshop/teahouse. I don't see how social life here could function without them. They spill over every street, with a few chairs/tables inside and most outside. They change character and cast throughout the day, from the old men sitting and sipping tea with their newspapers in the morning, to the couples stealing some time alone in the afternoon, to the throngs of young men that come to shoot the breeze and smoke cigarettes or hookah and play dominos all night.

Alcohol is scarce in Egypt, but this city runs on caffeine and nicotine. I'm not sure if I'm more surprised by how early people starting smoking, or how late they keep drinking caffeine. My friends are consistently downing cups of coffee from 10 PM- 1 AM. In the wee hours I see them get sleepy and leave, which means their bodies are somehow immune to the caffeine coursing through?

Bio-chemical wonders aside, coffeeshops are a shared social space, it seems in a way that I think about travellers' taverns from centuries past. Take all this with a grain of salt and ask an Egyptian friend, but it seems like night and day from coffeeshops in the US. If it's called a coffeeshop at all and not a gas station that serves coffee, it's usually the millennial crowd. Here, I see older Beduoins in a gallibayya with a basket of mangos next to the banker in a business suit with an earpiece. Everyone's drinking the same tea and the same coffee. Tea is usually 5 EGP -about 30 cents- and a small cup of Nescafe 10 EGP -about 60 cents-. In the brutal late morning and afternoon heat, everyone's at a coffeeshop if they're not at work. When the soccer matches are on, the shops set up TVs and circular seating.

Going out with friends here doesn't mean going to a packed bar. It means finding a little oasis in the city, pulling as many plastic chairs and tables around as you need, sitting in the shade and if you're lucky the breeze. I have a secret, too. Most coffeeshops sell fresh yogurt drinks with fresh fruit, and that's my jam. Many than a few shop owners have definitely forgotten my name but wave when I go by and shout "Habibi! Zabedi b/mooz!" (Hey friend! Yogurt and milk!)

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genderqueerpond · 7 years ago

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long personal post ahead-- discussions of growing up a disabled queer person-- idk how to warn for it but? tread carefully for mentions of??? suicidal ideation? antisemitism? not really either, exactly, but idk what to call these things

i’ve talked about this before but there are certain tumblr users - disabled queer adults, universally; also jewish and farmers, partially - who mean the entire fucking world to me. they have for years, though i’ve yet to succeed in actually talking to any of them. they’re an interconnected circle of users who know each other, and i’d give a lot to join that circle but i don’t think its to be, and i don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable by forcing it. they average 5-8 years older than me, which may not seem like enough for the amount i look up to them, but it is at least 10 years older than i ever thought i’d live to be. yeah, i’ve been in a weird state of shocked i’m still alive and unsure how to cope with my continued existence since, like, 2013? idk

and i think a big part of that is, like, i never had any role models. i never had any adults i looked up to, and i certainly never saw a life that looked anything like anything i wanted to have. i mean, i’m pretty sure this is a common thing for kids in general - i think kids who have older people they emulate aren’t as big a majority as the media would like us to believe - and i think it’s especially common for queer kids just not to see themselves. also disabled kids. idk. common or not, the way it affected me was i just kind of assumed that being an adult meant you had to kill your spirit. maybe most of the adults i saw in real life were pretty dead in that regard, honestly - i mean most of my childhood was spent poor and scared and that’s not really conducive to the adults around you being pictures of “happy future to aspire to”

but even the ones that were, you know, conventionally happy, i never related to them. i never related to them to such a degree that i assumed they must also not really want the lives they were living, and they’d killed their souls in order to live that way. i don’t know. that’s what i always assumed adulthood was.

and then as i got close to it, it became clear that, not only was conventional “adulthood” not a lifestyle i remotely wanted, it was ALSO a lifestyle i wouldn’t even be able to pull off. i think this is common for millenials too, because of the economic thing. i grew up around people struggling with poverty since before the economy even revealed how fucked up it was, but like, it’s also an ability thing. i’m not in the situation the adults of my early childhood were in, and thank goodness, because i’d be dead. i wouldn’t be able to handle it. so i mean, adulthood is killing yourself constantly for something you don’t even want, doing stuff you know for a fact you can’t do in order to sustain a life that brings you no joy whatsoever. and what’s more, i’m not even up to the task.

okay.

guess that’s why since early teenagerhood i’ve been living like my death is right around the corner. still kinda believe it is. i’m mostly just surprised it hasn’t caught up with me yet. i’ve been allowed to continue “childhood” for much longer than i expected to be - and i’m increasingly ashamed of that.

anyway. that’s why y’all mean so fucking much to me. you, the group of adults on tumblr who are living a life that i actually want. sure, you’re struggling, but you’re struggling for something worth having, and more often than not, you seem to have it. or parts of it. you make me feel for the first time like maybe i have a future, maybe there’s something to move towards. reading about your lives means so much to me. you mean so much to me. you mean so much to me. you mean so much to me.

a bunch of these people farm. idk if that’s something i want to do, but at least it makes sense to me. city gays live in what is like a fictional universe to me, sure i know a bunch of people are living it, but i’m not from that world at all. and i wouldn’t know how to be there. maybe i’ll join it one day, but that’s not at all certain and it’s very far removed from anything that actually feels real to me. plants, i know. goats, i know.

y'all and your baby goats. and the way you’ve somehow made it all something worth having.

unrelatedly, but also relatedly, there’s this farm three miles north of my house and half a mile west. it recently got purchased by a Kabbalistic scholar and he’s moved a bunch of people there and they’re all doing their thing. they have public events from time to time, i go to every one no matter what it is, or how little i enjoy the activity itself. the activities aren’t the point, never were. i go to the farm to be there.

as far as i know, the people working there aren’t queer or disabled. what they are is really openly jewish.

okay. disclaimer. i wasn’t raised to *BE* Jewish. I was raised to consider myself Jewish. I mean, my mom left the religion before I was born, moved across the country and distanced herself from the culture. she had her reasons, and i forgive her. but. but. but. the narrative i grew up in was very much one of assimilation out of fear. it wasn’t that we didn’t do anything. i was raised “don’t mention this, don’t say anything about that, if you do they will come and kill us.” something about being the descendants of holocaust survivors in the bible belt. mumble. whisper. it’s like i got all the bad and none of the good.

and five miles from me, on this farm, are all these people who are so very openly and visibly jewish. here. i don’t know what that would have meant to me as a child, but now? i don’t know. it means a lot.

it means a lot.

maybe there’s a space for me in the world

maybe i’ll even find it before a world with no space for any part of me squeezes out everything i am.

#anyway the point of this post is #there are some tumblr users and they mean a lot to me #and the chance that any of them will read this post is??? small but not nonexistent so #don't think u have to do anything for me bc ur already doing so so much but thank you so so so much for existing and showing me it's possibe

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