#I should have drawn her in the same style I did that one storm picture but I’m experimenting with brushes

[skribblepup]

Tollee from hunters unlucky! I regret the halftone dots but too late to take them away :(

[fluffsrambles]

Shinrai Is Attacked (Emotionally)

How had he ended up here.

The entire situation was asinine. But worse yet, he was surrounded by people. People who wouldn’t leave him alone. People who insisted on bothering him over and over again. Sammie who wanted to search for traps with him, Mel who talked at him constantly, and Mori. 

Mori who made him feel absolutely furious from just existing. Who made his heart beat and his palms sweat when they smiled at him. The inconsiderate jerk.

He was once again in the common area, Sammie leaning on the couch behind him and Mel sitting on the opposite side of it from him. He did his best to think, ignoring their chatter, ignoring Mori’s soft footsteps as they approached and joined the conversation. He could have left. He could stand up and leave and make it even clearer how much he didn’t want to be involved in this, to deal with them. He should just do it, maybe they’d finally get it if he set a literal divide between himself and everyone else again. 

Taking to his feet, Shinrai ignored every word that passed through, he turned on his heel to leave the room.

He tried to turn. He tried to leave. Instead, his ankle caught under him, rolling and sending him toppling to the ground in an embarrassed heap.

Before he could even think, Sammie was in front of him, face full of concern and hands reaching out to check on him. 

Shinrai snapped.

"Don't touch me-!" He hissed, shooting an icey glare that made Sammie pull back. They winced, frowning and opening their mouth to apologize, but Shinrai cut them off. "Just leave me alone already!" He curled in on his leg, swearing under his breath at the sharp pain in his foot. He couldn't even storm off like this.

"Hey. They were just trying to make sure you were alright." Mel said, not aggressive but firm. Shinrai glared at her too only to get the same look back. 

"I didn't ask for them to care. And I didn't ask for your input either." He scoffed, just wishing he could leave, or they'd leave, or that the floor would swallow him already. He hated this. Confrontation and conflict was fun to cause, not to be in.

Sammie didn't move to touch him again, but finally managed to get a word in, "Are you okay? That looked like a bad twist… I can help you wrap it-!"

Shinrai had never thought he was an angry person. Spiteful sure, but anger, rage, they weren't usual feelings of his. Not until this moment, when despite everything, Sammie still asked. Still wanted to help him. 

"No! No- God what else do I have to do for you to get the picture!? I don't want your help! I don't want to be friends, I don't give two fucks if any of you get hurt! Why won't any of you accept that and leave me the Hell alone!?" A fury he'd never felt was bubbling in his chest. Hot and overflowing, twisted with other emotions he didn't even want to think about. 

Sammie had drawn back again, muttering an apology that Shinrai could barely hear over his own heartbeat. Mori was stunned silent, only wondering just what any of them had done to cause such a reaction. Mel.

Mel was annoyed.

"Ya know." She started, " I already told you, that I can see through your bullshit. I told you that you can be as mean as you want, but I know the truth. That wasn't permission to treat us like shit, but a fact so that you know, I know what you are: scared." Hearing her say it so plainly, Shinrai's eyes went wide, furious, and he almost tried to bark an insult at her, but she kept talking. "You're scared of us. I can see it- you're scared that you'll give a shit about someone else. That they'll really see you. Scared they’ll hate you anyway."

"They always have!" He said, before he could even catch himself. He looked away, avoiding that burrowing stare she had, that damn stoner and her fucking psycho analysis bullshit. "You can say whatever you want about me. I don't care." He did. And he despised that he did. "But you'll learn that I'm not worth the effort soon enough."

"You'll learn that you are first." It was the first thing Mori had said the whole time, their voice shooting through Shinrais mind like a lightning strike. He huffed. How many times had people told him that.

Oh. Right. 

He didn't respond. He felt like he was going to be sick, his stomach twisting and his chest heavy. He'd felt this once in the last decade. Last time he'd slapped on a smile and left. This time he couldn't even pretend to be cheeky, he'd been so thoroughly shredded. 

Sammie had gotten to their feet, and reached a hand in his direction to help him up.

He stared for a moment, silent, before taking it and being very quickly pulled to his feet.

"How strong are you holy shit-" he'd rambled out, wincing the moment he put weight on his ankle. Shit. He'd definitely hurt it. Sammie had laughed in response, happy go lucky attitude back to them as if nothing had happened. Shinrai wobbled a bit, sitting back on the couch and ignoring Mel's look of accomplishment. 

"I can still help you wrap that. If you want- I know a thing or two about injuries!" Sammie smiled, laughing warmly and almost making Shinrai feel bad for yelling at them. Still, he shook his head, not quite ready for that amount of vulnerability.

"No." He spoke calmer, pausing. "No, thanks. I'll be fine." He looked at his leg, trying to stand again but grimacing and almost tumbling back again when a sharp pain surged through, only to be steadied by Mori. Mori’s strong hands on his shoulders, carefully and as if they knew too well just how much Shinrai hated being touched, but still didn’t want him to get hurt.

“Please. At least allow me to help you back to your room.” They smiled at him. How could they already be over it. How oculd any of them even look at him like this, with anything but disgust. He was going to say no. He was going to wave them off and hobble back  like a mess, once again, but their voice betrayed them.

“Alright.” Tumbled out instead, “Fine.” followed, as if to save him any amount of pride. Mori at first reached around to try and help steady him, but their height lead to a mild amount of difficulty, not at all helping Shinrai feel any better. However, the look on Mori’s face as they bluntly asked “Do you mind if I carry you?” did. Or perhaps it didn’t. Shinrai wasn’t sure, he’s pretty sure he actually had a heart attack.

He couldn’t even vocally answer, only nodding once before Mori had him lifted, gently in their arms bridal style, watching his leg carefully to not jostle him too much.

Shinrai ignored just how much heat he could feel on his face. He ignored Mori’s sweet smile and comment about how well he fit in their arms. He did not ignore Mel’s chesire grin as she watched them leave the room, waving cheekily at him while he glared at her wishing he’d finally gain the ability to make some’s head explode with a look.

Mori had left him not long after gently placing him onto his bed, offering to find him some ice. Shinrai had accepted the offer, if only to get at least a few minutes to himself to really process everything that’d happened. That despite everything they’d all still offered him help. That despite everything he’d even done before today they’d stuck around, that Sammie was too nice to stop, Mel too smart, and Mori.

Well Shinrai had no idea why Mori, someone who was smart and had self respect, but wasn’t a contrary bastard, would bother with him. Not knowing scared him. All of it scared him. Having to face them again scared him, but he knew there’d be no way around it.

They wouldn’t let him try to find one anyway.

[creationcitystreet-em]

His Southern Belle 1

Masterlist Full book 1 summary in the link

Chapter 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (face claim: Rose Leslie)

Word count: ~2450

Summary: Maddi starts her new school in Brooklyn and meets some new friends.

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I started this fic when I was still in high school, and I have worked really hard on it since. I’m not a fan of some of my writing from earlier chapters, but I don’t want to change them until I at least finish writing the entire story. I will be updating this fic here on tumblr one chapter a day until I am caught up with where I am at on the other platforms I’ve posted it. If you’d like to read ahead of that schedule, you can check them out on from the links on my masterlist. I just also wanted to make the fic available here on tumblr with the rest of my fandom interactions, so this is the plan to do that!

Unless otherwise indicated, all date entries are from Maddi’s POV.

September 5, 1932

I stood in front of the small class while my new teacher introduced me. I was in my best knee length dress trying to make the best first impression but I quickly realized the style in my hometown was very different from that of teenagers in New York. The girls seemed to have a little more money than my family as they wore nicer clothes and styled their hair to the newest fashion. My long red curls were probably a little too messy and I didn't wear the same socks and shoes as the them. I tried not to show how uncomfortable I felt when our teacher asked me to say my name to the class. I smiled and said "My name is Madeline Bennett, but my Mama and Daddy called me Maddi." I immediately heard laughter from the students and it made me feel twice as self conscious. It must be my accent, people in Brooklyn definitely sounded different than those in Tennessee. As soon as the teacher let me sit, I chose the only empty seat next to small and skinny boy with blond hair. He smiled at me but it was not cruel like the other kids when I walked to my seat, so I gave a small smile back.

During lunch, I sat alone until I heard the sound of a boy talking in front of me, "hey new girl, you know I can show you around if you want. I know some great places we can sneak off to together." I politely declined as I could tell his intentions did not seem innocent. He continued to push "Come on, look I know a lot of people laughed at you in class, but I can keep you safe baby doll. Once you're with me, nobody will be laughing." I immediately looked back down at my food trying to ignore the group of boys as they snickered behind the nameless boy who talked to me. I could tell this was probably a trick considering they were clearly still mocking me like before, and I just wanted to be left alone. I tried to hold back tears as I thought about how much I wished I could go back home with my family. I didn't want to be in Brooklyn hundreds of miles away from the only home I ever knew. I didn't want make new friends or learn how to live with a new family I barely knew. I wanted my safe little town where everyone knew who I was and nobody would dare pick on me unless they wanted my brother going after them. I missed my brother more than I ever would have admitted to him.

Just then, two more boys came to my table and I thought it would only get worse. "Leave her alone Jason, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you right now," the smaller of the two said. I now recognized him as the boy I sat next to in class.

"Alright Rogers, what are you going to do to stop me?" It was a fair questions, the boy was half a foot smaller than Jason and clearly much skinnier than the already developing teen.

"Listen Gally, I know you can see me standing right next to Steve here so you clearly should know when to keep your mouth shut. Now the lady said no earlier so I think you should respect her wishes and take your friends and leave." Jason Gally stared at the taller boy, who looked more like a man, and finally decided to leave. I continued to remain frozen in place after everything that happened, until I saw the two that helped me start to walk away as well.

"Wait!" I called to them as I wanted to tell them I appreciated what they did. They turned around and looked at me and I gathered up all the courage I had left to keep talking despite knowing they will clearly hear my accent. "Thank you for that. I got your name, Steve, but I didn't really catch yours," I said to the taller one.

"James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky."

"Well Bucky, Steve, thank you again."

"It was no problem, Maddi right?" Steve questioned to make sure he remembered my name correctly. I was pleasantly surprised and nodded my head yes.

I took a leap of faith and suddenly asked, "would y'all like to sit with me?" They stared at me for a second and I tried to explain myself quickly, "It's just that I'm new and don't have any friends yet. You two were so kind to stand up for me and I just wanted to know if maybe you would want to sit with me." I prayed I didn't just scare the two nice people in front of me off, but then they looked at each other and sat down across the table from me. I started to smile as they began to ask me about where I was from and why I moved to Brooklyn. "I'm from Tennessee, and I moved here to live with my Aunt and Uncle. They're the only family I really have left." they stayed quiet knowing I didn't want to go too deep into that subject just yet. The two nodded and didn't push anymore about it. I was very grateful for that.

It was towards the end of lunch and Steve said "Well Maddi, I'm glad we met you. Bucky is a year older than us but we still hang out after school. Where do you live, maybe we can walk home together?" I told them the general area I moved to and they both eagerly said they lived near there. We made plans to meet after school and for a brief second I thought that maybe moving to the big city wouldn't have been as terrible as I initially thought. I wished I could be back home, but knowing that I would never get to go back, having a couple friendly people here was the best I could ask for.

September 24, 1932

“How has school been going, Maddi?” Aunt Lily asked as I ate dinner with her and Uncle Ryan.

“Alright. I made a couple friends, but I don’t really seem to fit in with the class. They dress and talk different than back home.” I played with my food a bit while I thought about how the last couple weeks have been. Steve and Bucky were definitely very nice to call friends and I liked spending time with them, but girls still gave me strange looks and boys would bother me if I wasn’t with my new companions.

“Well, our neighbors have a granddaughter on the other side of town about a year or two older than you. I’ll see if she has any extra dresses you can have,” Aunt Lily offered. I knew she and Uncle Ryan felt bad for not having enough money to spend on me, but I really didn’t mind. With their two children already grown and moved across the country, they didn’t exactly plan to pay for an extra mouth to feed. Times were hard enough as it was without unexpected expenses. I never actually met these family members before: we never had the money to travel, but I heard about them a lot.

September 30, 1932

I wore my new dress that seemed to match more with the girls at school and it made me feel a little less nervous, but I also felt sad to be giving up more and more from my life in Tennessee. I sat with Steve and Bucky at lunch like I did everyday, and we talked about frivolous things until I asked Steve what was in the book he always carried around.

“It’s a sketch pad, I like to draw,” he said shyly.

“Can I see?” I asked and he hesitantly handed me his sketch pad and I flipped through the pages in awe. Each piece of paper had beautifully drawn pictures of buildings and landscapes. He had a few with people, but one close up of a young woman and man who looked in their early 20s. “Who are they?” I curiously questioned.

“That’s my parents,” he said quietly. “It’s from a picture when they were newly married. I don’t really remember my dad, he died in the Great War.”

“I’m sorry,” I said hoping I didn’t make him feel sad as I knew how it felt to lose a parent. “I lost my ma when I was young too, not as young but still I was 5 when she got sick.”

“Is that why you moved?” Bucky asked me.

“No, I still lived with my daddy and brother, Alex, until this summer when a storm hit and they both died. I was with a friend when it hit and a tornado took down my entire house and my family inside.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry Maddi,” Steve said as I fought back a few tears thinking about what happened.

“Don’t worry about it. I was lucky to have Aunt Lily and Uncle Ryan to take me when they heard, and now I got to meet you two so that’s good I guess.” I tried to look towards the better things in situations but it was always hard.

“Well, you’re officially our friend so there’s no getting out of it now,” Bucky said with a smirk.

“Only now it’s official? What has been the last month then?” I asked with a laugh.

“A trial friendship,” Steve stated smiling.

“Yeah, just to make sure you weren’t crazy or anything” said Bucky.

“I’m glad y’all think I’m worthy of being your friend then!” I winked at them as I continued the joke. We all laughed as we finished our food and headed back to class for the day.

December 24, 1932

“The snow is so beautiful on Christmas,” I sighed as I walked through the park with Steve and Bucky like we sometimes did together.

“It sure is, but I’ve always wanted to see snow where there were no buildings in sight. Just miles of it with nothing else to mess the blanket of white up,” Steve told me as we saw children running through the already played in snow.

“That is a sight to see, but I think that's just wasted? Look at how happy all this available snow makes everyone, that’s something worth drawing.” I said this as I knew that was one of the reasons he probably liked the idea of untouched snow: to be able to draw the scene. “Draw me and Bucky!”

“What?” Bucky questioned, not sure what he had to do with this topic.

“Draw us playing in the snow,”  I requested with a smile. Bucky quickly got the idea and ran towards a clean pile. He made a snowball and threw it directly at me hitting me on the shoulder. “Alright Barnes, you have it coming to you now!” and I laughed while I ran to make a snowball as well except I missed when throwing it at him. He laughed at me until I made another and hit him square in the face. I heard a chuckle from Steve and I looked over at him sitting on a nearby bench watching us and making small rough sketches in his book. “Come one Steve, put it to memory and come play with us!” He looked slightly surprised for a second until he put his book down and came over to join our snowball fight. We did this for about an hour until we sat down on the bench to rest. Steve quickly went right back to his book to continue his scene he started on. We sat in silence for a while just taking in the day.

“What are your holiday plans, Maddi?” Bucky asked.

“I’m not sure. We haven’t really talked about it. We’ll probably go to Mass tonight and I got a small present for my aunt and uncle tomorrow. I don’t really expect much of a present for myself; besides, my favorite part has always been Christmas Eve Mass. My daddy and Alex and I would go and then always visit mama after. I guess I can’t see any of them this year since their all buried in Tennessee.” I had never really thought of that until now and it quickly took away all of my joy from playing in the snow before. “They would have liked you guys,” I added before they could reply. “You're both gentlemen and passionate about what you care for.”

“They’d like Bucky,” Steve tried to clarify as he continued to draw.

“No, they’d like you both,” I told him with confidence. “Especially you, your heart is much more kind than this silly guy sitting next to me,” I laughed as I sat between them and gestured towards Bucky.

“Hey!” Bucky said with a smile. “Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it!” Steve just stayed quiet and had a slight blush on his face.

I put my arms around both their necks and said “thank you for making Brooklyn more bearable.”

“You did that,” Steve said as he looked at me and I smiled back at him.

December 25, 1932

There was a knock on the door and I went to answer it. When I opened the door, Steve stood there waiting and I gave him a surprised smile. “Hey,” he started. “I know today is mostly spending with family so I’ll try to be quick. I just wanted to give you your present.”

“Steve, you didn’t have to get me anything!” I began to feel bad as I had nothing to give in return.

“It’s nothing, here.” He handed me a piece of paper and I saw it was a beautiful drawing of Bucky and I in the snow from the previous day. I just stared at it for a few seconds in awe before he continued, “Sorry it isn’t that detailed, I was trying to finish as quick as I could and the shading might not be-” I cut him off by hugging him.

“I love it!” I said as he wrapped his arms back around me. “I love the art you make, it’s so good. Thank you for giving me one, it really means a lot.” We both let go and and he was redder than I had ever seen him before.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a chuckle. We then said our goodbyes and he went back home to spend the rest of the day with his mother.

Next Chapter

[the-headbop-wraith]

3_43 Wheels and Collars

The sound of some small, delicate thing clattering to the floor awakens him.  He thinks.  He can’t remember quite what it was he was dreaming, but he still smells soot and his head is killing him.  A portion of this is soon explained, when a washer bounces off the side of his brow.

“Ooh,” Arthur groaned.  He sat up a margin.  “Galy?  C’mon.”  He can hear the distinct squeaking of the wheels turning, though not far enough away from his head.  He would need to oil those.  The whining noise became intolerable, and Galahad was at Arthur’s face nudging the side of his cheek hard.  Arthur has no choice but to curl a hand around Galahad and drag the hamster to the side of his shoulder, where he pins the mismatch of metal and puff.  “Not wake time yet.”  However, Arthur doesn’t close his eyes, but sits pinned to his work desk staring at the wall near him.

Dozens of hand drawn schematics are tacked to the pin board, lines choreographed in blues or reds, sometimes orange.  Among the pictures are the printed copies of numerous prosthetics in varying degrees of complexity and style.  Arthur sighs.  He ignores the squirming hamster struggling in his fingers.  Galahad nips hard, but his metal fingers don’t feel but a slight vibration.

“You asked for it,” Arthur muttered.  At that comment, Galahad gives a little huff and settles down.  Arthur rubs his finger over the hamsters head as he muses, his shoulder quivers but he manages to lessen the shakes as he sits and waits.  He had an idea of what he was dreaming, but that understanding does nothing to satisfy his unsettled nerves.  It wasn’t good that’s all he knew, and he didn’t need to find why his subconscious insisted on hiding it.

A heavy rapping bounces from the metal frame, and Uncle Lance tilts his head in through the open door.  “Arthur.  Y’mind?”

Arthur leaned back in his chair and spun to the doorway, he mutely nodded to Lance.  “I got up a while ago,” he murmured.  He knew what Lance’s first question would be, it was almost impulsive, and Lance shut his mouth the moment he began to speak.

“Aight.  I came up to let you know your friends are here,” Lance harrumphed.  He flung a thumb back over his shoulder as he stood in the doorway.  “You get the day off to get the van squared off.”

Arthur was rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.  His fingers were stained with traces of grease, and Galahad had the same yuck on his paws – little hamster paw prints covered the oldest layers of grim and paint.  “They’re kinda early.  What time is it?”  A sharp pang bolts through Arthur’s spine, and he lurches back in his seat.  “Wait!  Who’s all here?”

Seemingly unperturbed, Lance stared at Arthur.  A bolt was jarred on the work table, when Arthur bumped the desks underside with his knee.  Lance watched the bolt make its long journey to the desks edge and fall, the sound of it hitting the floor clashed in the absolute silence of the room.  “Y’know?  Vivi and that… er, he gets snarly if you call him mutt.  They’re here.  They’n all who you expectin’?”  Lance followed the bolts progress across the floor, amongst a collection of bits and pieces left scattered about from Arthur’s multitude of personal ‘projects.’

Arthur stood up, he tried to slow down. “I dunno, I dunno,” he mumbled.  He had to set Galahad down and brace his arm to the sturdy table.  “I thought she— can I bother you to let’er know I’ll be down?”

“Yeah,” Lance grumbled.  “She said take your time.  You should listen to her more.  Can I get ya somethin’ in the mean?  Coffee, a pizza pocket?”  Lance stepped into the room and idly picked up a misplaced wrench that lay on the floor near Arthur’s couch.  He gave the room a mild scan as he revolved in place, before looking back to Arthur.  “Maybe a broom?”

Arthur wheezed out a laugh.  “No, Uncle.  Some coffee would hit the spot.”  He lost his smirk when Lance gestured to him with a finger, and fearing the worse Arthur shuffled over to Lance.

“Have you been smokin’?” Lance mumbled, voice low and gruff.

“No!”  Arthur whipped around.  Did Galahad growl?  “No, I’m not!”

“Well,” Lance says, with a light shrug.  “You smell like smoke.  I didn’t wanna bring it up yesterday, give the wrong impression or get Vivi involved – not over this, but you’re supposed to quit.  Remember?  I’m not tryin’ to pressure you.”  A scratchy voice cut through the communicator on Lance’s belt.  He plucked the device from his side and clicked it, the noise ended abruptly.  Lance gave it a slight scowl before he moved to reattach it.

“I tell you, I’m not,” Arthur insisted.  He took the travel bag from the couch and began going through it.  He needed a clean shirt, the least wrinkly.  He slowed in sifting through his assortment of clothing, all mashed together.  “Honestly though, I did turn back to it.”  The shirts were tossed out flat onto the couches back, he needed to have them out and look at them under the light.  “I did.  But I’m working on it, and my last pack was a week ago, no, way longer.”  He tensed when a heavy hand fell on his back.  His first instinct was to cringe away, though he knew it was Lance.  Arthur gave his head a shake and peered over his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you,” Lance said.  He had this manner of speaking that felt tense, but it was warm and heartfelt.  It was the kind of persona people didn’t expect, but it meant the world to Arthur.  “I’m proud you felt comfortable in sharin’ with me, and you’re tellin’ me you’re not done yet.  Your health comes first, but I get you gotta move at your own pace.”

Arthur nodded.  He tucked his metal arm closer to his side and gripped the wrist band.  “Thanks.  I… isn’t Vivi waiting for me?”

Lance sniffed.  “Probably.  What d’I know?  I saw her drivein’ up, and I came over to see if you’re up.”  He lowered his arms and motioned the walkie-talkie on his (pro wrestler) belt.  “In fact, that might’ve been one of the guys callin’ for me.”  Arthur shrugged off his vest and grabbed for one of the better shirts.

“I kind of doubt that.”

Lance paused before the door.  “What’s’at?”

“Nothing!  Nothing!”  Arthur burbled.  “Galahad, go with Lance!  Let’er know I’m getting ready.  Please!”  Arthur scrambled around the room seeking pants.  While he was at it, he tossed some of the tools scattered from the day before, back onto the couch.

The lower floor of Kingsman Mechanics had a shower station in the back, installed primarily for standard safety requirements.  Arthur was usually the one that used the showers; more often than he used his shower at home.  Blearily, he wondered when was the last time he left the shop?

It didn’t take Arthur long to get freshened up, and head out to meet his group.  He was a little apprehensive as he trekked from the garages back to the front shutters.  Likewise, he was a little surprised when he stepped out into the late noon of the day, to find only Vivi and Mystery waiting.  “That’s right,” Arthur chided himself.  He was all worked up for nothing.

A few vehicles were parked in front of the garage, and some of the repair crew wandered outside doing routine paper work before moving the car and trucks into the open slots of the garage.  It was a relatively quiet, overcast day with a chilly breeze.  The road that ran alongside Kingsman’s was placid, maybe due to the construction work going on up the road that had half the lane shut down.

As Arthur exited the garage, a bright and gleeful bark greeted him.  Mystery nearly plowed into his shins at full speed.  “Whoa there, bud!” Arthur swooped down and grabbed Mystery around his shoulders, and he nearly fell over with the excited pooch as he barked up a storm.  “Twelve hours tops.  You can handle twelve hours, huh?”

“I get this distinct impression he missed you,” Vivi proclaimed.  She stepped away from the open driver side door of the van, but not before excusing herself from whoever was inside.  “That, and he was pretty worried.  You didn’t go home with Lance last night.”  It was a statement, and Vivi’s eyes squinted behind her glasses.  “How’d you do?”

Arthur rubbed Mystery’s shoulders with his palm and stared, a little too long, at Vivi with suspicion.  “I got a little busy with that dampener equipment.  You know, so we won’t be busting our wallets on a surplus of batteries.”  He frowned.  “At least, that’s the idea.  Actually, maybe some simple wards would work.”  Vivi laughed.

“I hope you didn’t build some sort of elaborate contraption, only to come up with that solution in the moment.”  Vivi shifted her hands behind her back.  “Is that all you worked on?”

The van creaked on its wheel wells, as its occupant moved around.  Lance’s heavy boots hit the cement, and he ducked back behind the vans back doors.  “You two might think about going on ahead,” Lance called.  “Your appointment for the body shop is set for four, so don’t keep them waiting.”

“Ooh, thanks Uncle Lance,” Vivi chirped.  “We have plenty of time.  Artie, you ready?”  Vivi pulled up the tassel end of her sweater, and wrapped it around the flashlight she carried.  She smirked and shrugged Arthur’s way.

“Yep,” Arthur muttered.  He dithers to rise, when a little orange ball came racing his way from under the van.  Galahad rammed at Arthur’s knees and whined.  “Galy, you should—” Arthur stopped, and heaved a breathy sigh.  “Never mind.  You can come, but behave yourself.  We’re not having a fiasco like at the petshop.”  Arthur scooped the hamster up in hand, and motioned Mystery toward Vivi.  When Arthur reached the door open door, he was met by Lance.  Something about Lance seemed edgy, and Arthur half expected his uncle to ask him to wait or stay behind.  Instead, Lance looked Arthur in the eye and frowned.

“You take care of yourself,” Lance said.  He gripped the bundle of tattered ceiling liner in his hands tighter, as if trying to wring out the soot.  “And for criminy sakes, get yourself some good food.”  Lance didn’t stick around.  He marched by Arthur and back into the open doors of the garage and its symphony of pumps, embers, and cranking wrenches.

Vivi leaned up out of the driver side door and waveed at Lance’s retreating back.  “I’ll look after him, Uncle Lance!”  She swung back inside the van, and sprang into the back.  She began hissing, and puffing erratically.  “Ow.  Hot-hot.”  A weighty clunk echoed from the vans back.  “Sorry Lew.”

“Nudge over some, Misty.” Arthur scooted in beside the dog, his arm deposited the orange puff on the seat between them.  “Make room for Galy.  And no fighting.”  He pressed his finger to Mystery’s nose, before Mystery could shuffle over into Galahad’s space.  “What is our first stop, madam?  And where are those keys?”

The first stop was the Tome Tomb.  Arthur guided the van into one of the parking lots that dotted every cluster of blocks up and down the road, and found an open slot to park.  He twisted the key out of the ignition, and leaned back with a yawn escaping.

“It’s so warm and pleasant sitting in the sun,” Arthur mentioned.  “It’d be stellar to just nap, y’know?  Sleep the winter away.”  He set a hand down on the fluff pile that was Galahad, nestled beside his thigh.  “I’m juz digging thinking about being home for a bit.”

With backpack in hand, Vivi slid squeezed down beside Mystery in the passenger seat.  She tugged on the door handle.  “I know what you mean, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have work to do.”  Vivi pulled a pen and small notepad from her bag, and began writing.  “How long d’you think it’ll take them to get the van repainted?”

Arthur sniffled.  “Well.  They have to prime it, which doesn’t take long, but it has to dry first.”  He winced a bit, and shook his head.  “The whole time slot will be about three weeks, for a vehicle like the van.  Yeesh.”

“And the price?” Vivi inquired.  She frowned, and stuck the pen tip between her lips.

Arthur leaned over and stole the pen.  “Can I borrow that notepad?  What’re writing on it?”  Vivi didn’t protest, she handed the notepad over.  Arthur set it on his lap and began writing.

Lewis popped up over the passenger head rest.  “Vi, my shades?  Did you pick them up?”  The radio garbled static briefly, the sound of it fading before Arthur reached over to fumble at the nobs.

“Here,” Vivi hummed.  She dug around in her backpack quickly, before leaning over and poking through the cup holders.  She plucked up one pair of sunglasses and a walkie-talkie and handed them back.  “This won’t take us long, and Art, please-please get yourself something to eat.”  She checked the notepad when Arthur handed it back, and grimaced.  “Ah, heh.  On that subject, can you boys pick us up something, too?”  She slide out of the van, Mystery followed.

“I think we can manage that,” Lewis replied.  He slipped on the sunglasses, and leaned over to check his reflection in the rear view mirror.  He taps the mirror a few times, and waves a hand in front of it.  Discreetly, Arthur scoots aside.  “Any requests?”

“Leave it up to Artie,” Vivi says.  “I’m not picky.”  Mystery yapped.  He was already walking away.  “I’ll get in touch when I’m done.”  She waves the communicator she claimed, before she hurried off after the hound, and down the streets sidewalk.

Arthur huffed and leaned a little more on the driver side door.  “She’s treating me like a child.”

Lewis slipped over the bench seat, his eyes flash behind the shades.  “You don’t provide evidence to indicate otherwise,” he muttered.  “C’mon, you get picks.  When was the last time you ate, anyway?”

Arthur rotated his shoulders, and pulled at the door handle.  “I probably munched something late last night.”  He didn’t remember munching anything any time last night.  The hot pocket his uncle had given him, that had been pretty good.  Not as good as a real pizza, but whatever.

“You brought your hamster?” Lewis uttered.  He shut the vans doors and went around double checking.  Arthur had stayed standing where he was, watching the road and holding a hand cupped around Galahad’s wheels.  “Isn’t it kind of dangerous to travel with the lil guy?  Especially with… He’s kind of big for a pocket.”

Arthur snickered.  “He’ll be fine.  He’s tougher than he looks.  But thank you, thank you for your concern.”

There wasn’t anything that could be done with the hamster.  Lewis reasoned that this was something Arthur did, he couldn’t be certain.  Galahad didn’t seem too upset by his change of environment, he simply looked content to be with Arthur.

The bell of the shop twittered its faint harmony as Vivi pushed the door open.  She paused, giving Mystery the time to enter, and stepped in behind her faithful companion.  The Tome Tomb was as she left it before, if not a little chiller come the winter months, and a little darker; if possible with the windows filled with scripture and charms.  Mystery’s footfalls paced gently beside hers; the hound kept close, his sharp ears aimed forward.  From the ceiling dangled glittery talismans of protection, carved from bone and rock, each piece unique.

“Hello,” Vivi called.  “Chloe?  New guy?”  She never got the last guys name.  “Duet?”

A figure poked its head through a beaded veil, causing the trademark clatter of beads to ring out.  Vivi lurched back, knocking her legs against Mystery’s shoulders.

“Jeez and crepes,” Vivi snapped.  “Why do you do that?”

Duet, arms loaded with books and ratty magazines, approached the front counter.  “I thought you liked the creepy, and spooky atmosphere.”  The stack of merchandise thumped onto the surface of the glass counter.  “I have wares if you have fares.”

Vivi took another breath.  “Very funny.  I didn’t peg you as one that plays video games.”  She glanced down, as Mystery padded away to give the shop his cursory examination.

“I don’t,” Duet went on, smile falling.  “But Chloe does, and she has frequented the store since the new help outlived his usefulness.”  Vivi took a step back, a thin gasp wisped between her lips.  Duet’s deep frown evaporated, and a smile splint the face.  “Oh, no.  Not like that.  The demanding work schedule was interfering with his grades, so he had to resign from us.  He’ll be back come summer, I assure you.  Now.”  Duet gave the air an audible sniff.  “Vivi!  You practically radiate a vibrant spirit flame.  Interesting case?”

“Cases,” Vivi said, and emphasized the Ss.  “We were on a roll, boss.  That’s kind of a portion of the reason why I came in early.”  She pulled her backpack off and set it on the counter.

“Ooh,” Duet hummed.  The figure stepped forward, arms folded on the counter top, and leaned beside Vivi’s backpack.  “Tell me your dark secrets then.”  The shop darkened by degrees, and the bright grin in the face was contrasted by rich shadows setting into the contours of Duet’s face.  Duet’s eyes gleamed unnaturally.

Vivi surveyed the shops interior mildly.  “I wouldn’t call them dark.”

Light floods the shop, and Duet dropped the once intimidating gaze.  “Oh.”

“I’d like to buy one of my books back from you,” Vivi went on.  She slipped the laptop out of the bag, then headed around the opening in the countertop.  “And I need to use the printer, if that’s cool?”  She disappeared through the beaded veil and hastened to the stores back.

“Sure, knock yourself out.”  Duet looked down as Mystery made his way back to the countertop.  Mystery stopped and stared up at Duet, and Duet gazed back into the hound’s crimson eyes.  “How are you this evening, Mystery?  Keeping Vivi out of harm, hmm?”

Mystery chuckled, unlike a dog, and grinned back.

“‘I don’t have pockets.’  What sort of an excuse is that?” Arthur muttered. He climbed the duel steps to the top of the restaurants patio roof, he and Lewis walked side by side with Lewis carrying the cartoons with white paper bags.  “Tell me to order whatever, then make me pay.”

Lewis passed under the arch and scanned over the open patio.  It was gray brick from the floor to the wall that encircled the numerous tables and chairs, with wide awnings stretched partway over the expanse.  Aside from a few clusters of customers, it was empty.  “I kind of misplaced my last coat.”

That comment shut Arthur up.  He rubbed his fingers up under the fur in Galahad’s chin.  “It, well, it did find a good home.  If that’s any consolation.”  He began walking across the floor.  Lewis made his way towards a corner table, under a potted tree shrub.  Lewis pulled out a bag of food and the drink, and set them before Arthur.  Lewis paused, before opening the paper bag.

“Can you manage this on your own?” he murmured.  “With the hamster and…  Galahad won’t run off?”

Arthur set Galahad on the table beside his bag.  With one hand Arthur brought forth his toasted sandwich and chips, and folded out the bag to set his lunch on.  “He knows better.  Galy, you wanna chip?”  Arthur held the chip over to the hamster.

Lewis took his seat, and settled to watch the birds plodding around the empty seats and tables hunting for tidbits and handouts.  “Was Dimitri really okay?  I know, you said the kids made a one-hundred percent recovery, but what about Dimitri?”

Arthur picked a piece of crust from his bread and gave it to Galahad.  “He was shook up.  What else is there to say?”  He took a bite from his sandwich and set it back to the paper wrapper.  “I wasn’t there, anyway.  Vi talked to him about it.  Mostly, it seemed he was upset he yelled at you.  So there.”  He had to shoo Galahad from his chips, the hamster wanted to nest in them.  A sudden thought caused Arthur’s hand to twitch, and he debated on relinquishing his chips to the hamster.  “Weren’t you… sort of there?”  Arthur wanted to try and ask more, but his arm… was trembling.  He reached across his chest and gripped the edge of his vest.  “Lew’s?”

Lewis turned his head a fraction, the corner of his eye socket smoldered.  He had a frail suspicion why Arthur denied himself the false arm, but he couldn’t press himself to draw attention to that.  “No, I wasn’t,” he murmured.  “I was asleep.  Look, you complained to Uncle Lance about feeding your hamster weird stuff, and here you are feeding him all that stuff.”

This was true.  In Arthur’s distraction, Galahad had crawled into the pile of chips and had laid claim to the salty, sweet crispiness.  “This is different,” Arthur retorted.  “This is just a treat.  It’s not the main course.”

“Is there a difference to a hamster?”

“Hold on.”  Arthur rubbed some of the sticky from his fingers, and set his napkin aside.  He reached into his pocket and produced his phone; with it, Arthur began working his thumb across the screen.  “Give me a moment.  Okay.  Here, check this out.”  Arthur paused and watched the phones screen a second, then handed it across the unopened lunch sacks, to Lewis.  “This.”

Lewis took the phone and watched the video playing on it.  “Tiny hamster eating tiny pizza,” he read.  He pushed the shades up a bit and set the phone down on the table.  He glanced up when Galahad wheeled over, and climbed onto his arm lying parallel to the phone.

“Galy’s favorite youtube series,” Arthur mentioned.  He nibbled on his sandwich, then set it down.

“It’s really cute,” Lewis admitted.  He reached over and rubbed the small space between the hamsters twitching ears.

“I know.  Too bad there aren’t a lot of the vids, Galy drives me nuts watching the same ones over and over.”  Arthur jerked in his seat when a crackle of static snapped.  He and Lewis exchange a look, and Lewis shook his head.  The crackle of static rasped through once more, and that’s when Arthur remembered the communicator in his pocket.  “Viv-vi?  Hey?”

“It’s me,” Vivi’s voice scratched through.  “You’re a little – Where’d – z go?”

Arthur took a sip from his drink and responded back.  “Must be the patio.  We’re at Masterful Sauces.  Do you read?  Masterful Sauces?  Over.”

A few minutes later, Vivi and Mystery arrived up the steps.  Lewis was already making places up at the table.  While Lewis did this, Vivi rummaged in her backpack before presenting an envelope to Arthur.

“Wait-wait, lemme clean your hand.”  Vivi set the envelope aside, and brought out the ninety-nine and a rag.  “It’s important— don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Arthur held his hand out.  “Fine.”  As Vivi wiped off the sandwich grease, Arthur eyed her backpack.  “Vi, people are gunna start calling you a bag lady or something.”

“I will inherit that title with pride.  Okay, you can open it now.”  Vivi wedged herself into her seat with her supply bag, and tore into a pasta dish.  “I have no idea why you got me this, and I don’t care.  It’s delicious.”

Lewis stared at the phone.  He wanted to tap on another video, but that didn’t work.  In fact, when he tried to manipulate the phone, it went straight to the phonebook listing.  “You should also eat the salad, you need more veggies and greens.”  A strangled squawk came from Arthur, and he nearly dropped the folded sheet of paper he held.

“Vi!  What is this?” Arthur choked.  He was drinking soda while he read the sheet, clearly a mistake.  He was futilely mopping up spilt soda from the tables top, one handed.

“That’s what—” Vivi paused mid-sentence to eat.  “Don’t get it dirty.  That’s the most formal check you’ve gotten in a while, right?  I mean, aside from Uncle Lance….”

“Vi!  What is this,” Arthur repeated, voice strained.

“Some new calculations I did,” Vivi stated.  “The percentages from the cases we had – we had a few low key, but it all added up.  Those are the correct sums, Duet helped me.  And a bit for the damages, because those were on fault of a case, so I have to pay.”

“Vi!” Arthur resumed.  He held the sheet of paper in his lap.  “No, this can’t be right!”

“It is,” Vivi insisted, calmly.  She picked at her food, eating quickly.  Mystery would glance her way, then across the table to Lewis.  Lewis was still staring at the phone.  Vivi stole it away, and touched at the screen.  “What’d you need?”

“I was watching hamster videos.”  Lewis hunched down, when Vivi stopped and gave him a curios stare.  Lewis had Galahad on his shoulder, and it looked like the hamster was fast asleep.  For the best, probably.  “Tiny hamsters eating tiny food.”  Vivi AND Mystery, held their solid stare for a full minute.  Vivi tapped at the phones screen, then, slipped it back over to Lewis.

“Calm down Art, we need to discuss some things as a group.”  Vivi took a sip of her soda, then began cutting her food into smaller bites.  “Yeah.  We got a sizable bonus, but only from that one case we did.  For the Hershey’s.”  Lewis rasped a sound, and a little flame sparked from his shoulder.  Arthur hadn’t noticed.  “Yeah.  That case.  It’s a problem.”

Lewis slipped his shades up as he raised his head.  “The Hershey’s got what they wanted.  How’s it a problem still?”

“They got what they wanted, that’s why,” Vivi snapped.  “Not that what you did was wrong, Lew.  We had no choice, in the interests of the spirits confined to that home.”  She continued eating bites of food, as she explained.  “The school made a point to mention we didn’t spend a whole lotta time with the Hershey’s.  I think maybe to keep us wary, if the Hershey’s get back in touch saying we didn’t do our job.”  Vivi never doubted Lewis once, and Lewis didn’t converse vividly over what had been done to free, escort, release the family?  She wouldn’t ask, and they had procured VERY little evidence from the investigation.

“This bonus worries me,” Vivi resumed.  “We’re not under contract to do expulsions on demand, and we don’t go out of our way to do them.  Unless they are absolutely necessary.”

Arthur glared, as Mystery pushed over the remaining half of his sandwich.  “We used to,” he said.  “When we started out.  So, they have those files.”  He turned to Lewis’ perplexed gaze.  “We had to hand over those files, as credentials.”

“Yeah, but that was wrong,” Vivi grumbled.  “We didn’t go far with that.  I just wish we realized what we were doing sooner.”

“Fritz,” Lewis murmured.  He didn’t mean to utter the name, but it had stuck to him.  And his warning.

“That was different,” Vivi said.  “Fritz was becoming dangerous, and he couldn’t be left in those conditions.  It was the only thing we could do for him.  But that’s the difference.”  Vivi set aside her utensils, and placed her elbows to the table.  She made a net with her entwined fingers, and set her chin there.  “We’re trying to stay out of that field of service.  The college thinks we’d be willing to reconsider.”

Arthur scoffed.  “Thanks for the funding, but make it clear to them we’ll pass.”  He and Mystery were currently mid argument over who would finish off half the sandwich.  Mystery seemed to believe Arthur needed extra food.

“I’m working on it.” Vivi took a breath and sighed.  “I put it in our report, clarifying that we are certified investigators, and anything otherwise is a violation of our contract.”

Arthur sat a moment, picking at the edge of the sandwich that now sat with his half eaten meal.  “What do we do if they violate the terms of our contract?”  He took a bite from the sandwich, but didn’t feel like chewing or swallowing.  He sipped some of his beverage instead.

Vivi leaned over the table and looked to Lewis.  “It won’t come to that.”  Lewis turned his focus back to the phone on the table.  “If it does, then they can have another ghost hunting, investigating group.  Stability is something we need if we wanna continue our line of work.  I won’t have it otherwise.  Arthur?”

Arthur raised his eyes to meet Vivi’s, and nodded.  “Well, if it ever comes to it… we could have that ghostbuster business.  Y’know, if Lewis is—”

“No,” Lewis rumbled, glancing Arthur’s way.  “Not in your lifetime paly.”

They finished their meal in near silence, with a few in-between occasional comments of possible scenarios and idea situations of how to progress with work.  By the time they had finished – mostly – with their meal, it was almost time for the appointment at the body shop to get the van prepped for panting.  The temperature was already on a steady decline as the sun swam behind the thick clouds, and sought refuge from expulsion behind a far gone horizon and a waiting forest.

[jmflowers]

3, 15, 17 for the fanfic ask 😊

3. Do you prefer canonverse or AUs?

I think for reading, I always lean more towards canonverse. I like those fill-in scene fics and being some place in a story that is ultimately really familiar. Canon fics are the ones I most often go back to and read again.

As for writing, I find myself much more drawn to AUs. I was always very, very driven by character development when in school and required to write my own creations, but I never really felt like I got good at world-building or plot lines. I started writing fanfiction specifically because it gave me established characters and, as such, forced me to get better at the other stuff.

15. Post the last line you wrote without context.

A lighthouse, guiding Charity home to safe harbour.

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

I wish this one was more than just an idea because I love the concept so much and it was so cathartic to write the first two parts, but I’ve been stuck on it for months and I’m not sure where to go with it next.

It’s called Hell & Back, inspired by the song of the same name by Maren Morris. I wanted to write something in second person that had an actual plot, as opposed to the usual character analysis style I typically do in second person POV. So far, I have written two interactions: the first and second times Vanessa meets Charity.

I don’t know how to talk about this one without giving it all away… I’m just gonna post part one here and we’ll see what happens...

               You meet Charity on a Thursday, when the sun has finally given way to the storm clouds that have been creeping closer all morning. The rain pelts down in cold, hard slaps as you bend over a sheep that looks about as miserable as you’re starting to feel, examining its hooves for what you’re certain might be the start of foot rot in the herd. Moira won’t be pleased, not in the slightest.

               “Shouldn’t you be ducking for cover?” someone calls over the sound of the rain, their voice slicing through the rising crescendo to reach your ears.

               You twist, startled, looking up quickly to find the source. It’s a woman, stood about four yards away, watching you with her arms crossed atop the fence. There’s a fog that seems to hover around her, rising slowly like the steam above a hot cup of tea. It’s something you should look at closer, you’ll realize later, but in the moment, it flits away from conscious thought in the passing breeze.

               You shiver, the rain well and truly soaked into your coveralls now, bits of hair plastered to your forehead in such a way that you’re sure isn’t flattering. Not like in those movies Tracy keeps making you watch. 

               “Shouldn’t you?” you retort, already turning your attention back to the sheep struggling in your hands. Fickle creatures, them; smart enough to recognize each other but not to see that you’re only there to help. You pull it harder onto its hindquarters, rendering it unable to escape and earning a pathetic bleat in response.

               “Really rather be torturing sheep than cuddled up warm and dry?” It’s the woman again, her voice suddenly closer than it’d been before. You look up just in time to see her leaning over the side of the pen you’re in, pulling a face at the animal in your arms. Your eyes flick to the gate she’d been stood beside before, the chain still wrapped securely around the fence post just as you’d left it.

               “I’m not torturing it,” you murmur, eyes dragging back to her face. Did you miss the sound of her hopping the fence? Are you so tuned out that you wouldn’t be aware of someone approaching like that?

               She laughs, the green of her eyes almost sparkling as she tips her chin up into the air. “Don’t know that he’d agree with that statement, babe.” She’s near enough now that you can count the freckles trailing down her neck, guiding your eyes to the dip at the top of her jacket.

               “She,” you say without thinking, always just a breath from correcting. Like your mother, that; a habit you’d always hated when you were on the receiving end.

               But she doesn’t scrunch up her nose like Tracy does when you do the same to her, voicing annoyance louder than her words ever could. No, Charity just tilts her head and hums out one of those noises that sounds like a question, as though she’d rather you explain further than shut right up.

               “This is a ewe, not a ram,” you offer, trying to pull back that prim and proper tone that seems to appear whenever you’re clarifying something. It’s like a flashback to being sat in the front row at school, pretending you didn’t hear the girls snickering behind you. “Male sheep have horns, females don’t.” Even Rhona’s teased you for it, mimicking after she’d overheard you giving directions to a client.

               “Huh,” Charity says, dropping her gaze to the animal once more, “Guess that’s why everyone always assumes the devil’s a man.”

               It’s a funny thing to say, odd enough that you freeze for a moment before you manage to come up with a response. Later, you’ll understand why she did, when you know her well enough to grasp the twists and turns of her mind. But not right now. No, the first time you meet her, you just think she’s a strange one.

               “Male and female goats both have horns,” you sputter when the quiet between you has stretched on for too long. You want to kick yourself the second her eyes flick back to you, her gaze so clearly telling that it is you – not her – whom she thinks is odd.

               “Is that right?” she asks with a smirk, “Always did like them better.”

               You, too, though you don’t say. Not normal conversation, is it, to tell a stranger that you’ve always preferred that gentle knowingness hidden behind a goat’s eye? Be a vet, Vanessa, if you must, your mother had said, But, don’t be one of those people who only speaks of animals.

               The prim and proper comes from her, you know, all the things you’d been poked and teased for stemming from the ideal daughter she’d tried to craft you into. Not like your father, who laughs when he shouldn’t and smiles when it’s impolite and says the sorts of things you’d never dare to. You wonder, often, how they ever got together long enough to have you.

               “So, what are you doing then?” she asks, lurching her body further over the pen until you can feel her breath beside your head. It’s hot, much hotter than you’re prepared for when the cold is so busy burrowing into your bones. She keeps her eyes trained on your hands, trying to get a good look at the hoof you’re clutching – not a pretty one, either, not the sort you’d ever show anyone other than Paddy or Rhona. You tuck it a little lower, trying to hide the swelling beneath some wool.

               “They’re sick,” you mutter, your brain spiralling backwards to the game plan you’d been formulating before she’d interrupted. You’ll need one, before you head up to the house to tell Moira what’s going on. It’s likely the field, you think, all this low-lying ground and the abundance of rain in the past few weeks has surely not helped the situation.

               “With what?” Charity presses. Her breath feels like fire where it meets your neck, scalding the gooseflesh beneath your ponytail as she speaks.

              You lean away, lowering your arm enough that the sheep squirms hard in your grasp, knocking you off balance. You fall back against the fence, hands grappling behind yourself to grab onto something sturdy. The sheep takes its opportunity, tipping to the side before scrambling to its feet and taking off towards the others. They bleat at the new arrival, corralling themselves into a bunch beneath the only tree at the far edge of the pen.

              You huff, frustrated instantly and unsure where to lay the blame. You can feel your brow furrowing when you turn to meet her eye, catching the twinkle and the smirk that you assume are present at your expense. “Foot rot,” you mutter, pushing away from the fence angrily. Won’t be easy to catch that one again, now that it’s had a taste, especially not when the field’s gone slick with mud.

               “Sounds gross,” she says, dropping down off the fence to follow as you stalk across the pen to your bag. The rain has sent splatters of mud up the side of it, a match to the boots on your feet. “You a farmer, then?” she asks.

               The laugh comes before you can decide whether you mean to or not, a breath bursting across your lips at the notion of you in Moira’s shoes, depending on animals for your livelihood in a different sort of way than you already do. No, you’ve never quite managed to imagine a clean picture of yourself with a farm, always something just slightly off that made you shy away.

               “’Fraid not,” you chuckle, “I’m a vet.”

               She nods knowingly, stepping back out of the way when you open the gate to the outer laneway where she stands. “They’ll be okay, then?” she murmurs, eyes shifting over your shoulder to the herd.

               You shrug, because it’s not a guarantee of course – none of these things ever are – but you’ve caught it early enough that you don’t anticipate too much damage. Some zinc sulfate baths to start, a round of vaccinations if it comes to it, and the sheep will be good as new in no time. “They’ll be fine,” you answer, “Though I might not be, when I tell Moira she’ll have to spend the next few weeks coaxing them into a few feet of solution to stave off the infection.”

               Charity laughs, the sound lighting something low in your belly. The rain feels distant when you’re stood so close to her, the wet of your coveralls barely a blip in your mind though you’ll be desperate for a hot shower the second she’s gone.

               “Well, best be careful, then,” she suggests, the remnants of her smile softening the edges of her words, “Wouldn’t want to miss seeing you again.”

               She turns away before you can formulate an answer, strolling down the laneway toward the open fields at the back of the property. You have half a mind to call after her, to invite her inside for a cuppa and a towel, but she’s over the hill before you can find the courage to shout.

               It’s not until much later, when you’re laid in bed replaying the day in your mind that you realize she hadn’t much seemed like she’d needed a towel. She hadn’t much seemed like the rain had touched her at all.

[one-shots-blog]

Falling

A/N: Some lyrics of Harry Styles song, Falling. I do not own anything. I might have spelled their last name wrong. 

There was an unsettling silence within the Mikaelsons' home with just the quiet sound of the burning wood from deep in the house. Kol was the only one in the house, moping as he remembers what day it was. Her birthday. 

He was sitting on the bed, drink in hand as he stared at the fire, the worst memory popping into his mind. 

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left

(Y/N) stared at Kol with so many emotions passing through her face. Shock. Jealousy. Sadness. Anger. Hurt. Her mind was filled with a circle of thoughts over and over again, never stopping. Countless excuses created reasons for why he did what he did. 

"Why, Kol? Just tell me why?" She asked, needing the answer before she decided what to do. Kol stared at her emotionless, having to flip the switch of his humanity. 

"I was bored of you. I never did love you, you know? You were just a plaything till I discarded you. I was there, and she joined me. She was interesting because she was a witch. She caught my attention, and I wanted her. I wanted her in more ways than I ever wanted you."

(Y/N) couldn't believe what she heard from his mouth, he was confessing he was bored of her. She nods her head, taking in his negative comments, knowing this would have happened someday, but hopped it would have been never. "I see Kol. I thought we were endgame, but I guess not. I hope she makes you happy Kol." she whispers, placing a hand on his left cheek. She leans up, pressing her lips against his in a soft kiss, putting all of her pain in it. She was in agony, but would not let him know as she pulls away from him. Walking away without looking back, she goes to their room, his room now. She packs everything of hers, sobbing quietly, hoping no one else was home. She gets her stuff in the car before driving away from the compound, thinking about where she can go. Her phone rings, but she does not answer. She did not want to face anyone until she was ready whenever that would be. She was making her way to the airport, thinking about going to London. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kol throws his glass at the wall, not flinching when it smashes into million pieces. Tears begin to slide down his smooth cheeks until his vision blurs to fuzziness before the next memory overtakes him. 

What am I now?

What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

Kol wanted to learn more about what he missed. He made his way to the Grill, wondering if he could find a quick snack to help fulfill his thirst for blood. He entered the building, smelling a delicious scent that made him growl in hunger but stopped before someone noticed. His eyes trail over the place, looking for the person with the sweet scent. His eyes meet with (e/c) orbs that shined with curiosity and something he could not identify.  He makes his way to the bar, ordering a drink before sipping the bourbon. His eyes would trail off to see the teen with her friends, hearing them talk about him and his family. 

" Who is that?" A soft, velvety, voice asked, glancing at the mysterious man at the bar. Her heart was speeding up, and she hoped; he could not hear it but recognizing, he was a vampire, it was unlikely. 

"No. Don't even think about it, (Y/N). He is Klaus's and Elijah's brother," Elena said, worried about her friend getting in danger by talking to him. 

"Geez, Elena, I just asked who he was. It's not like I am going to jump his bones then marry him. I do have standards. Anyway, I would go for Elijah because he is hot" (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes at Elena's weariness of the man. 

Caroline lets out a squeal, while Bonnie and Elena gasp, looking at their friend with wide eyes. " Oh, come on. You can not deny he is attractive in his suit and tie. Every Mikaelsons are attractive, must be something in the genes. " She shrugs, not caring how her friends are reacting to her as if she was crazy.  

" They are murderers (Y/N)," Elena said as if it was clear to stay away. 

" Really? Want to give me that bull?" (Y/N) asked, looking between her friends. She was getting annoyed because they were acting as if they were innocent themselves. " What about Stefan? Damon? Caroline, when she first turns? Tyler? Viki? They killed people as well. Does that not make them monsters? Elena, we are all monsters. We are all carless and cruel in the end. You may choose to ignore it, but one day you will realize you are a monster yourself." She told them before getting up and making her way towards the man. 

"Hi, I'm (Y/N). Do you want to go do something?" She asked, tilting her head, smiling brightly at him. Kol smirks, settling his glass down, licking his lower lip. " I am a Kol. Kol Mikaelson. I would love to, Love. Where shall we go?"  He asked, holding out his hand for hers. They make their way to the door, passing her friends that stared at them. 

"Anywhere."

" I do have to warn you, I'm someone no one wants you around," he said, " even me," he whispers. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kol was drowning in his sorrows, never wanting to do anything but reflect on his wrongdoings. He hated himself for running the besting thing that ever happened to him. He realized too late she was the one for him. 

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

Kol stood on the stairs, looking out for (Y/N), hoping she would accept his invitation to the ball. His breath hitched when he saw her in the dress he gave to her. She was wearing a strapless, floor-length dress that hugged her figure perfectly, little gems embedded on the top following flowers around her waist.  

He smirked when he saw jealousy in other girls' eyes as they glare at (Y/N). He knew she was above all the other girls and was perfection. He strolls his way towards her, offering his arm as he makes eye contact with his brother, Elijah. 

"You look lovely, darling. " He whispers in her ear, smiling when he noticed her shiver. 

She smiles at him, linking her arm through his, strolling around the room in amazement. " I know, Elijah told me. Why did you give me this dress to wear?"

Kol bites down the growl he wanted to make as he smiles fakely, not liking she brought up his brother in his presence. His grip loosens around her arm, uncertain flickering through his eyes before he has that playfulness back, not liking to be self-doubting. 

" Well, then... I should have told you earlier. I am sorry, darling.  I gave you the dress because I knew you would look breathtaking in it. The dress is special because it once belonged to a princess, someone no human would know. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kol picked up a picture of his past love, smiling wistfully. His finger caresses the outline of her lips before moving to her cheeks. She was very similar to (Y/N) and that was the reason he was drawn to her in the first place. 

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

Kol was waking up, yearning for blood to help cool his burning throat. He was furious at Klaus for dragging him once again. He only wanted to stay with Delilah, his love. However, the opportunity to stay with her was ripped away from him by his brother. Sadness and heartbreak enveloped him as realization dawns on him the fact Deliah might not be alive. The dark thought was eating at him as he opens the coffin, anger rushing through him, replacing the sadness. Revenge, it was all he wanted as he glances at the other coffins with his family members before removing the daggers. He was getting ready to hurt Klus for taking him away from Deliah for however long it was. 

Kol hears Elijah talking to Klaus with another vampire, Kol had no idea who it was. He makes his way to the noise, knowing his other sibling will wake up soon. He walks out all confident, enjoying the hint of fear on Klaus's face. "Hello, brother. Long time no see, missed me?" Kol asked as he vamps to Klaus, eyebrows furrowed in anger. He then stabs Klaus in his hand before throwing him at the wall. "What happened to Delilah? You better tell me the truth or else I will break every bone in your body over and over again, till I am bored," Kol said, menacing. 

" She left, brother. I don't know what happened to her, I swear. "

"Your lying!" Kol yelled, not believing him for a second, breaking Klaus's arm. Elijah pulls him away, and this makes Kol angrier, leading him to storm off. He suddenly caught a familiar smell making him search for the source. He stops outside a window and smiles when he saw Deliah.

 He forces to hear what is going on with Deliah and the three other girls. 

" I want to see you at cheerleadering  practice, (Y/N), " the blonde said. 

The girl with (h/c) and (e/c) stays silent, looking out the window as if knowing she is being watched. "Bonne, I swear I want you to be there too. Elena, you can come and watch if you want."

"I'm good, Care. I have something to take care of tomorrow. "Elena said, trying to come up with a reason as to why she could not come to the practice even though she is not on the team. 

"(Y/N), whatever happened to Alec?" Bonnie asked, hoping to change the topic. The question bring the said girl out of her thoughts as she turns to look at her three friends. 

"We broke up. Well, I dumped him because I knew he was not the one. I want someone to sweep me off my feet, romance me with little gifts, and make me feel special. I want one of those 1920s romances," she said, dreamily sighing, knowing it was just in the movies. 

Kol did not understand what was going on. This was not Deliah that he knew. This was a different girl that had the same voice, face, and body as the girl he loves. However, this did not stop him from wanting to know her. He wanted to get close to her, and learn everything there was about her. He would meet with her soon and pretend that he has no idea who she is. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kol checks up on (Y/N) to make sure she is taking care of herself. He would watch over her as the years passed until it seemed like she moved on. He would see her with another man, and that broke his heart, but he did not have a right to voice his opinion. He would leave when he saw she was getting married. He would leave Mystic Falls to join his family in New Orleans, but not without saying goodbye. He had a present for her in his pocket, wanting to explain everything to her. it was a Ruby Heart Ring with Diamond Accents he had engraved. Entering the home to see blood splattered all over. 

To Be Continued? 

[sassyduckqueen]

30 Days of Lukanette- Spring & Winter

Again, it's a fillery kind of chapter and a lot shorter then the others but still fun to write. Also yay for Sassicle! I think I'll be powering through the next few chapters before I want to write the Cat Blanc one but i still have Felix and Party Crasher to write as well as the theme mermaid and songbird but I think Frighteningale and Syren will be making an appearance for those two.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Excuse me! Coming through!" Chloe gasped as she pushed her way through the group of people. Marinette frowned to herself as she watched her. She had heard that Chloe would be back in school soon but she still wasn't looking forward to it. For her part in Hawkmoth's plan, she was kept under house arrest but most people believed the story about Chloe helping Ladybug trick Hawkmoth so it was very hard to keep her imprisoned for her crime when it looked like it had been part of a genius plan. She guessed it was the effect of tricking Hawkmoth but at least, this way the miraculous holders could be used if they were needed. Marinette was still careful though. She would only need them if she absolutely needed them. After all, she had Cat Noir, Viperion and Ryuko as back up and she knew they all had her back. She hope that would never change. Chloe, on the other hand, should change but it seemed like she wasn't going to be changing anytime soon. Marinette sighed as Chloe started to laugh. "Hello, Little Miss Weather Girl,"

 "What do you want, Chloe?" Aurore sighed as she looked at her.

 "I heard your GPA dropped a whole point," She gasped as Sabrina looked down before laughing. "Guess you can't be Little Miss Weather Girl and Little Miss Good Grades at the same time,"

 "Looks like Chloe hasn't changed," Alya sighed as Luka walked over. He looked over and frowned as Marinette crossed her arms.

 "Oh, we better not making her cry, Sabina," Chloe laughed. "She might turn into Stormy Weather and rain on us. What a ridiculous power. Utterly ridiculous,"

 "That's it," Marinette grumbled before walking over as Aurore frowned. "Aurore won't be transforming because her grade average will be up again next term,"

 She looked over at the blonde-haired girl and smiled softly at her. Luka felt his heart skip a beat as he watched the scene unfold.

 "Don't hesitate to ask if you need any help," Marinette smiled, kindly. Luka couldn't help but smile to. Marinette was always so kind to people and he loved that about her. She put others first and always wanted to help. He hoped that never changed. 

 "Thank you, Marinette," Aurore smiled softly but Chloe's laugh caused her to frown again. 

 "Yeah! Right!" Chloe gasped. "Once a villain always a villain,"

 "You mean like you then?" Luka piped in, making Chloe huff.

 "Hey! I redeemed myself!" She gasped. "Ladybug trusts me!"

 "I highly doubt that," Marinette sighed. "Anyway, people do change for the better. Unlike you it seems,"

 "Urg! Please! I'm way nicer then I use to be, Dupain-Cheng!" She gasped. "You, on the other hand, will never change! You'll always be Adri-dum... I mean Adri-bum... blad blad... lame and you!"

 She pointed to Alya.

 "You don't even know who Ladybug really is! You two are made for each other. You're both just as clueless as the other," She laughed before looking at Luka. "I don't even know you but judging by your awful sense in style, you'll always be a loser too. No wonder why you're hanging out with these two! Now back to you- urg where did she go? I wasn't even through trashing her!"

 Chloe turned on her heel and stormed off as Marinette sighed before turning to Luka.

 "Wanna get the subway with me?" She asked. He nodded and they headed off, after saying goodbye to Alya and Nino. "I think we'll need to be careful,"

 "You think she might get akumatized again,"

 "Yeah.. Chloe may not be on Hawkmoth's side anymore but she hasn't changed," 

 "Sometimes, people don't," He smiled. "Ah, my stop. Be careful, Marinette,"

 "You too, Luka," She smiled before a light blush spread over her cheeks as he kissed her cheek before getting off and heading up to the Seine. He smiled to himself as he came to the Liberty and walked on it. He looked over and waved as Jagged went over a crazy plan for his new album with his mum, Penny and Vivica. That had become a common thing now. Jagged liked to get his mum's thought on his plans and Penny was always with him. He often felt like Vivica liked to talk to a woman who knew how to handle Jagged.

 "Hey, Luka! What do you think to this?!" Jagged gasped excitedly, showing a badly drawn design of what he figured was a guitar. 

 "That's cool, Jagged but how are you going to play it?" He asked, making Jagged look at the picture before he rushed over to Penny and started to ask how he would play it. Luka smiled to himself before heading into his room and putting his guitar down. He flopped onto the bed and smiled as Sass floated out of his pocket and made his way onto his stomach.

 "What are you thinking about?" The Snake asked.

 "How things have changed," Luka replied. "So much has changed for me in this last year and I just can't believe it. Who'd thought I'd be a superhero or hanging out with Jagged Stone and Marinette has changed too. She seems so much sure of herself and her crush on Adrien isn't effecting her as much anymore. I seriously might ask her to be my girlfriend,"

 "Why wait?"

 "Because I like what I have with her right now and I don't want to rush it too much," He smiled.

 "And Adrien?"

 "You know I'll give her up if he's who she wants," He sighed softly.

 "I don't understand that, Luka. You have a real chance with this girl and actually love her but you're willing to give her up if she decides she loves another. Would you be willing to fight for her?"

 "Not if it would cause her sadness," Luka confirmed, sitting up. "I love Marinette with all my heart and I would do anything for her, that includes letting her go. I have too much respect and love for her to try and cage her,"

 "You're really different to other humans," Sass commented before nuzzling his cheek against Luka's. "I'm glad you're my master,"

 "I'm not your master, Sass," Luka smiled. "I'm your friend and in my eyes, we're equals,"

 "This is why you're the snake," He smiled. "So kind and wise,"

 "I do try," Luka grinned before frowning as he noticed his breathe. "Odd,"

 He quickly got up and pulled on his hoodie before rushed outside his room. He frowned as he saw his breathe and saw frost on the windows of the Liberty. Even in midwinter, the boat was never this cold to create frost on the portholes.

 "Hey, what's going on?" He gasped, shivering but no one answered. Frowning to himself, he moved carefully through the room and looked outside. Heavy snow was falling and there was a strong mist around. He slowly moved outside and saw that his mum, Jagged and Vivica had been turned to ice statues. "Mum!"

 He frowned deeply before looking around. As he looked over, he saw the whole Seine and everyone near it had also been frozen. He felt a sudden jolt and heard a huge thumn. He looked towards it and saw a huge volcano where the Eiffel tower should be. He frowned to himself before he noticed ice spreading toward him and rushed back inside, quickly closed the door. He frowned as he heard the ice spread across it, trapping him inside. Fortunately, he knew another way out. He quickly turned on the boat's heating system before turning on the TV. If he was going to face whoever did this, he needed to know what their deal was and why the big volcano.

 "Stormy Weather has returned and seems more powerful then before. Not only has she frozen most of Paris, she also has made a super volcano and is threatening to use it to move the earth out of it's rotation around the sun. Experts are saying that if she successes, the earth will be plunged into an eternal winter," Nadia Chamuck gasped before touching her ear piece. "This just in. Scientists around the world have confirmed that the earth is in fact moving off balance. Our only hope lies with our heroes,"

 "Sass, I think it's time to try our ice power up cake!" Luka grinned before taking out the slice of blue cake. He threw up in the air and Sass ate it. "Sass! Power up!"

 Sass began to glow then span into a white light. When he re-emerged, he had a icicle shaped tail and was more of an ice blue then a green.

 "Sassicle!" He grinned as Luka held out his wrist.

 "Sassicle! Scales Slither!" He declared as he moved his hand in a wave movement before throwing it up in the air. Sass got pulled into the bracelet and then Luka struck his hand down, creating his lyre before he pointed his finger up to the sky. His costume was created in it's usual green light but he spun round as his usual shoes began ice skates. He swiped his hand over his eyes creating his mask before spinning again, this time creating a belt around his waist before hooking his lyre on it and posing. Once transformed, he headed into the back of the boat and exited from the back door before he jumped on the frozen Seine and skated towards the volcano. He noticed the people who weren't frozen already shivering and curling up to each other as he made his way through the streets of Paris before jumping up on the roof as Ladybug and Cat Noir fell back. He held them both up as Stormy Weather caused Lightening to strike in the air as if to show her power.

 "You guys ok?" He asked as Ladybug shivered. Cat sneezed and shivered too.

 "I didn't think been near a volcano would be so cold," He groaned.

 "She's using it to move us away from the sun," He stated. "She's also caused a blizzard, frozen most of Paris and effectively plundged us into an eternal winter that will only get worst with that volcano. You two are gonna need your ice power ups,"

 "She is way stronger then the first time we faced her," Ladybug sighed. "Do you think we can defeat her?"

 "True, that she is stronger but so are you," Viperion smiled. "You two know each other a lot better and on top of that, you have me and Ryuko. We're a stronger better team and she's no match for us,"

 "Viperion is right, mi'lady," Cat smiled. "We've learnt to trust each other and we always have each other's back,"

 "Speaking of which, I'm gonna distract Little Miss Sunshine so you two can get your skates on!" Viperion grinned before he jumped off and span around, throwing his lyre at her before he landed and skated off. Stormy Weather growled and began to direct lightening towards him. He made a sharp turn and skated up a ramp before jumping over. She span around and hit him with a blast of air.

 "You can't defeat me!" She screamed, hitting him with another one. "I'm a hurricane!"

 "I'm not here to defeat you!" He grinned, coming to a stop. "I was merely distracting you!"

 "What?!" She gasped as Ryuko landed a hit on her face before she back flipped and landed next to him. The two skated backwards, dodging her attacks as  Cat and Ladybug joined them too.

 "Lucky charm!" Ladybug declared as she threw up her yoyo. A small pencil dropped out of the sky and she caught it. 

 "Now's not the time to do some drawing, mi'lady," Cat grinned before throwing his baton towards Stormy Weather. While he battled her, Ladybug frowned and looked around. She smiled as she noticed a copy machine that lit up before Ryuko and Viperion lit up then Cat Noir did.

 "Viper, I need you to get that copy machine and throw after I've thrown this pencil then Ryuko use Lightening dragon to cause a flash,"

 "Alright!" They both yelled. Viperion skated over and grabbed the machine lifting it up. He was grateful that the miraculous granted him super strength, speed and aglisty as well as protected him from basically all injury. Ladybug nodded and threw the pencil. Cat Noir grinned as he let himself drop down. Viperion threw the machine towards her. She went to use her umbrella to deflect it but Ryuko used lightening dragon on it, causing a massive burst of light. In the process, Stormy Weather dropped her umbrella to protect her eyes and Cat jumped up to catch it.

 "Cataclysm!" He shouted, grabbing it. As soon as he did, it turned to dust and freed the akuma. Ladybug captured it and purified it before grabbing the pencil and throwing it up in the air.

 "Miraculous ladybug!" She shouted. The magic bugs spread across the city, clearing it up. Viperion joined Ladybug, Cat and Ryuko as they did a four way fist bump. They de-tranformed from their ice suits before Ladybug grinned. "We keep getting better at this,"

 "I hope this never changes," Cat Noir smiled before his ring beeped. "Til next time!"

 With that, he ran off. Viperion, Ryuko and Ladybug all went their separate ways as well. Viperion made his way back to the Seine before hiding in a nearby alley and detransforming. 

 "Ladybug is right. You are really getting better," Sass smiled as Luka feed him a piece of cake.

 "Yeah," He smiled. "We do make a great team,"

[definitely-not-an-alb]

In which I info-dump about Hannover

Part Two: Linden-Limmer aka Hannover is bonkers and I live here.

Hannover! It‘s a town! It‘s in Germany!

It‘s a town that no one really knows about (appart from that whole our-royal-family-married-into-the-british-royal-family-thing, but no one cares about that), I feel, even though it‘s kind of really cool, so I’m going to use this as a shameless place to talk about my birth place. Yay.

Because I’m one of those weirdos who feels about Hannover (of all places) the way Peter feels about London.

This is long, but there will be pictures!

Is this ever going to come up in the books? I doubt it. Are you going to learn cool things about Hannover? Yes.

So Hannover is build basically on a giant swamp (always a good idea /s) and it’s really, really wet, which Hannoverans use as a perfect excuse to build weird shit that shouldn’t be build here, like our New City Hall that is proped up on oak logs Venice-Style and that got flooded regularly until the Nazis had enough of that and literally did the cityplaning equivalent of digging a trench to stop the flooding, by digging a trench to stop the flooding. It’s a lake now; Here’s the lake. It’s called the Mashsee, aka Swampland Lake, because of course it is.

(By: H. Helmlechner)

(It’s bottom is one of the few places Germans were really hesitant about removing the Nazi-Insignia from, because that involved draining the lake and potentially flooding the City Hall.)

(By: Matthias104a)

(There’s still a natural lake directly in front of our City Hall, because the ground is just that wet even with a 78 Hektar drainage hole right next door)

Now, because Hannoverans are dipshits who don’t learn, they decided to do the same thing again in the 60s and 70s, but like, bigger.

So they build the Ihmezentrum.

(By: Gerhard Fahrenhorst)

Yes, it’s directly next to a river, and yes, it’s also build on a former flood-plane, and yes, this is one building. It has a 50.000 m² closed beton foundation and was conceptualized as a city-within-a-city, so they basically stacked 10 or so brutalist living towers on top of a really ugly mall. It’s giant. Like, Skygarden would be one of these towers, and one of the smaler ones at that. It has around 160.000 m² usable space, plus another 60.000 m² of parking and 12.000 m² just corridors and streets. It’s the ugliest piece of shit I’ve ever seen and I love it.

(By: Me (and my broken phone))

It’s fucking ridiculous and you cannot tell me BA doesn’t know about this after writing BH. Also; Guess where it stands?

Linden.

Apart from having a really ugly beton-behemoth, you know what else Linden-Limmer is known for?

The Leibniz University!

Because that dud lived here a considerable chunk of his life! They reconstructed the house he used to live in and everything, but I really can’t be bothered to think about University.

Corline from Ansbach too, btw. Her husband was King of England and Ireland for a time, but she stayed and held court mostly in Hannover.

Anyways, you know what else Hannover has and that’s kind of adjacent not to Linden and Limmer, but to the neighboring District?

The Eilenriede. Which is a woodland, a really, really old woodland twice the size of the NY Central Park, that’s just in the middle of this fucking city.

(Couldn’t find any air-pics, but if you google it they should come up. This thing is big, basically.)

This isn’t some green-lung redevelopment – they just never cut this part down, never build anything there, and afaik this thing goes back all the way to those dense ur-woods the Romans were so afraid of. It’s developed as a recreational green-belt nowadays, but there’s still several sulfur springs (Holy Man’s Spring and Devil’s Bath) in there, as well as shit like this;

I used to think this was some Nazi-thing, but apparently it’s not; It’s a reconstruction of an older cult place that’s dating back to the Middle ages. Who knew.

This dumb wood is also the reason Hannover is so well preserved; basically, the Allieds really, really wanted to bomb Hannover, because it was a center of heavy industry, most importantly a VW-Werk and Hanomag, which was a ‘local’ (in ‘’s, because it was local, but sure as fuck not small) firm building heavy agricultural machinery. And trains. And heavy artillery. And tanks. They build a whole fuckton of tanks.

The Nazis didn’t want the Allieds to bomb their golden tank goose, so they used the one good idea they were allowed by the universe every blue moon or so to stage a massive misdirection effort; Every time there was a bomber-warning, some poor smucks who’d drawn the short straw had to get on their bicycles, ride out into the Eilenriede and put up a bunch of storm-lanterns. They basically move the city over one tile on the map, making it really hard to locate and bomb the Hanomag halls.

Anyways Hannover is cool and one of these Days I’m going to write some (RoL-Inspired) Urban Fantasy Stories about it.

Pictures are Public Domain, mine, or provided under C.C 3.0 and C.C 4.0

[aurora-daily]

Pop singer Aurora strikes a chord

SPECIAL FEATURE: Aurora Aksnes is a 22-year-old Norwegian pop singer who’s been steadily gaining international popularity in recent years. Calla Duffield is a 14-year-old fan and aspiring journalist from College Station, Texas, who got a chance to interview the singer known simply as “Aurora” before a concert in Liverpool this summer. Here’s the unabashedly starstruck Duffield’s account of the encounter, which offers insight into how and why Aurora has struck a chord with so many followers around the world.

Interview: Aurora for News In English by Calla Duffield (July 22nd, 2018)

At the Liverpool International Music Festival last July, staffers led me to a secure area behind the stage where the performers’ trailers were located. I caught a glimpse of Aurora as we passed her trailer and cried a little to myself (I know it sounds cheesy, but she has that effect on me).

Her assistant told us that Aurora wanted to sit outside for our interview because it was unseasonably hot that day and her trailer was sweltering, so we did an awkward dance around some folding chairs (or at least I did) before settling in to talk in the shade.

In person, Aurora is slight and tiny—just 5’3”, like me. She was wearing a sunny yellow dress over layers of tulle skirts along with sunflower wristbands and sneakers (Aurora usually goes barefoot or wears flats onstage so she can run around and dance more easily). She has said she dresses the way she feels; I hope yellow that day meant happy!

Aurora asked my name; I was almost too starstruck to move my mouth. While speaking, she gestures expressively, just like when she performs, with hands flying in the air. Her voice was soft and she was kind, and although I had just 10 minutes to ask questions (another interviewer was waiting and Aurora would soon take the festival stage), while we were talking, I felt like we were all alone.

Before we met, I had watched many of her performances online: Onstage she projects a kind of Viking power, storming around like a warrior stalking her enemy. Her presentation is soulful but energizing, and looking out at the audience, Aurora seems to grab fans with her eyes, dancing with them even though they are far apart. Watching her is like watching a play: her lively pale face expresses the meaning in her lyrics, and her melodies and dancing amplifies it.

I first encountered Aurora’s music when I was 12 while sitting on the floor folding paper cranes at my friend Gloria’s house. We were listening to Aurora’s Murder Song, which tells the story of a mercy killing. The haunting melody entranced me because of how well it fit the story.

At first I was drawn to Aurora’s persona: a mix of warrior princess, wise and noble poet, and wild and free fairy, and to her strange style of dancing, of storytelling with her body—jerking her hands around to paint a picture in the air as she sang.

Her songs weren’t about love or heartbreak, unlike most other songs on the radio; they were about love for the earth and humanity and navigating life. And I could relate to them because, being 12, I was far more interested in nature and the meaning of life than anything about romance.

After that, I played and sang her music constantly and made sure my parents knew I would jump at the chance to see Aurora in concert. At the beginning of the summer, I learned from fan sites that she’d be performing at the Liverpool festival in July—around the time we would be visiting my grandmother who lives just outside of London. “Was there any chance we could go?” I asked my parents.

They immediately confessed, much to my surprise, that they already had acquired tickets. And because I had previously expressed an interest in journalism, my mother, a professor of journalism at Texas A&M University, had been trying to arrange for me to interview Aurora.

I composed an email that included a short bio, reasons Aurora should grant me an interview, my photo, and a few sample questions. I emailed it to the festival’s press office, and crossed my fingers. Just a few days later, I got my answer: Aurora said yes! My mom and I jumped around our kitchen screaming.

Just a week after that, I was sitting inches from Aurora asking questions, posing for photos and even getting multiple hugs. I started off by asking about her theme for the show.

“Everything”, she said — a very Aurora-like answer; with fans and reporters, she can be both playful and vague. I tried not to have any preconceptions of what she might be like, but her distinctive child/sage personality comes through very clearly in her music and in previous interviews.

Celebrating diversity Her recently released song, Queendom, is about feeling a sense of belonging and “about celebrating all the differences in us,” according to the description on her YouTube video. It is about “a place where we can come and be lonely together and then not be lonely anymore.”

At a time when many people seem so hateful, I asked, what gives her hope for such a place?

“People are quite angry,” Aksnes agreed, “but I think it’s because people are bored … and they are restless and need to feel they are part of something bigger…”

Queendom is also about Aurora’s feeling of connection to her fans, she said. “I feel that we are all family … Queendom is that kind of place, and kind of attitude, that we [should] have towards people.” To Aksnes, Queendom is about spreading kindness and compassion.

Support for ‘the weirdos’ What advice would she give to kids who might feel weird or out of place?

“I always felt like I was a bit of a strange thing when I was little… ” Aksnes said. “I’m still strange. Some people like it and some people don’t.”

Kids who feel they don’t belong should keep in mind that school is “so small, such a tiny world, and there’s so much more, bigger things waiting for you, especially (for) us weirdos…” Aksnes said. Weirdos are “going places, because they are different.”

In previous interviews, Aksnes described growing up in a small town outside Bergen, Norway, without smart phones and computers. “I think it helps with creativity,” she told me. No gadgets means “more time…to just kind of force yourself to make something out of nothing.”

At the same time, Aksnes said, “it would be sad to say that (electronics are a) bad thing because it’s the future, all those phones and screens. I guess we will have to try to embrace it as much as we can, and kind of find the positive sides of it.” Among those positives, she said, “we can connect with people and learn about cultures, [and] you can get to know another girl in Egypt and become best friends.”

On the other hand, Aksnes said, “I thought (technology) would bring people more together than it actually has so far. But let’s hope that it will evolve in the right way.” At the moment, she added, “it doesn’t teach us to appreciate our (lives), it just teaches us to compare our lives (with others), which is very unhealthy.”

Aiming for ‘a long, long career’ Before leaving for England, I had asked Aurora’s fans on Instagram what they would want to ask her. This brought only one response: when would she be performing in Romania?

“Oh it’s ok,” Aurora said, laughing. “Maybe all the others were sleeping.”

Asknes doesn’t organize her schedule, she said; “I have people doing these things for me, because … I have other things to think about. I have a booking manager, a booking agent, and he does everything.” The team behind Aksnes “all have each task for ourselves, that we can be good at and contribute to our main goal,” she said, “which is me having a long, long career.”

Her band is made up of extraordinary musicians in their own right, but they came together in a random way, she said. Bergen is a small town and “they were the first people we found and also the best … and we are still together!”

Although her first language is Norwegian, she writes almost all her songs in English. Will she ever release the two songs she has written in Norwegian?

“Maybe one day, because it’s nice to listen to songs without understanding the words,” she said, smiling and clearly referring to her fans outside Norway.

Some listeners may perceive a spiritual quality in Aksnes’ music. She doesn’t follow any particular religion, she said, but “as long as it does not cause harm, or become an excuse to do harm, then I’m all for (religion),” she sad. “I am very spiritual,” she added, “but not in a material way.”

Last and most importantly, I wanted to know, when is Aksnes coming to Texas?

“I’ve been to Austin once, and I loved it!” she said, smiling. “The margaritas there are very good! I’ll be back,” she added, grinning, before giving me another hug. “Probably next year.”

[badchoosey]

Endless Summer, Book One. Chapter 1: This Must Be Heaven

???: Stay down! It’s coming this way!

??? 2: Tim! Give me your hand!

??? 3: You don’t understand, do you? Of course not. But you will… in time.

The plane shudders, jolting you awake. You blink away the strange dream as your eyes adjust to the bright sunlight outside…

Tim: Wow…

Your best friend Diego gives you a goofy smirk from the seat beside you.

Diego: Morning, sleepyhead.

Tim: I’m not still dreaming, right?

Diego: Doesn’t feel real, does it? But we’re finally on our way!

The chatter of the ten contest winners from your school fills the small plane…

Quinn: One magical week in paradise, here we come!

Craig: All expenses paid, what whaaaat!

Raj: Good thing too. I’m so deep in student debt I couldn’t even afford instant ramen right now.

Diego: Hey… you okay, Tim? Bad dream?

Tim: Just a really weird one. I dreamt about… about him!

You instantly recognise the guy walking down the aisle toward you.

Diego: You had a dream about Sean Gayle? Well, what are you waiting for? Go talk to him!

Diego pushes you out into the aisle, right as he passes by! You bump into each other.

Sean: Whoa, hello there!

Diego: My friend Tim here wants to say something.

Time: Outta my way! Think you can take up all that room with those big muscles? Think again, bud!

Sean: How, uh, rude of me...

Sean excuses himself as he slips by you.

Diego: Oh man, got that whole thing on video. You’ve gotta see your face… Huh, weird. Is it really 5:15? We should’ve landed an hour ago and it didn’t feel like you’d been snoring that long.

Tim: Hilarious. I’ll go ask the pilot if something’s up.

As you make your way forward, you pass by the other students talking loudly over each other…

Aleister: Excuse me, will you all please cease your babbling?! The tour guide is trying to speak!

Lila: Thank you Aleister! As you tour guide for the week, I just want to say that we should all try to… you know, be friends! It is an island after all, so… you’re kinda stuck with each other! Hee hee!

Zahra: Is it too late to jump out of the plane?

The pilot has his combat boots kicked up on the dashboard.

Tim: Excuse me. It’s Jake right? Weren’t we supposed to have landed by now…? Wait, are you asleep?!

Jake: Hrn?

He opens his eyes and looks back at you. Instantly you recognise his face too… from that same bizarre dream…

Jake: Listen, Boy Scout, don’tcha know it’s rude to wake someone who’s taking a nap?

Tim: ‘Boy Scout’?

Jake: What can I say? I give nicknames to people who annoy me.

Tim: In that case, I’m calling you Jared Leto.

Jake: ‘Jared Leto’? Whoa, hang on, I do not look like Jared Leto! I had this haircut before Jared Leto did, okay?

Tim: No judgement here. We all get our style from somewhere.

Jake: Alright, comedian, when I come back in a week to pick y’all up, you, my friend, are riding in the cargo bay.

Time: Okay, okay. What if I just called you Joker?

Jake: Fine. But I’m picturing the Heath Ledger one instead. Anyway, relax. We ain’t landing ‘til… The hell? That time ain’t right… And that ain’t right either.

He whacks the instrument panel on his dash a few times.

Tim: You sure you know what you’re doing?

Jake: If you knew half the things I’ve survived, you’d bet on me to get you through anyth--

Out of nowhere, turbulence hammers the plane! You’re thrown into the wall of the cockpit!

Tim: Aah!

Jake: Aw, just great! This stormfront’s coming in quick.

He leans in and grabs the yoke.

Jake: Get your ass in a seat, hear? And tell everybody to buckle up.

Tim: But--

Jake: Now, Boy Scout!

Dark clouds close in around the plane, gusts rocking it side to side. Everyone starts shouting…

Raj: Ohhhh, I am really regretting that airport Chipotle!

Craig: Don’t puke, bro! If you puke, I’m gonna puke!

Michelle: Where the hell did this storm come from?! It was a clear day!

Jake: It happens, okay? This is totally normal!

Zahra: Yeah. Sure. THAT looks normal.

Outside, balls of orange electricity coalesce out of the dark sky and explode in a crackle of sparks!

Grace: It looks like ball lightning… but I’ve never seen anything quite like this!

Aleister: This is all wrong! I can’t die here, surrounded by these morons!

Sean: Everyone, just breathe! We’re gonna get through this!

Quinn: Oh god, Oh god…

A blistering crack of thunder deafens you as lightning strikes the plane! Sparks fly in the cockpit!

Jake: Welp, engines just lost power! Bringin’ her down manually! Everybody, hang on!

The shouting grows louder as your classmates start to panic… all except one. A girl with a tight ponytail and a long scar across her eye sits alone in the back row of the plane, silent and unfazed.

Lila: Tim! Safety first! Please find a seat!

You look for an empty space around you… You tumble into the seat beside Quinn as the plane lurches violently! Quinn’s face is drawn tight, refusing to look.

Quinn: Hff… hff…

Tim: Just breathe. It’ll pass.

Quinn: This can’t happen… not yet… it’s too soon.

Quinn grips the armrests tightly. Her chest rises and falls shallowly, as if she’s having trouble breathing. You rest your hand gently on top of hers.

Tim: I’m here. You’re not alone. We’ll be okay.

Quinn: I…

She relaxes and lets out a deep sigh. When she opens her eyes, they meet yours.

Quinn: Thank you…

She offers you her hand. You take it. She smiles sweetly, and it somehow makes all the shouting and alarms fade to the background.

Quinn: I’m Quinn.

Tim: Tim.

Jake: Just a little farther! I think we’re almost out!

Just as the lightning reaches fever pitch, the plane bursts out of the storm clouds into clear sky!

Raj: Woooooooohoooooo! We’re alive!

Quinn: Tim, look! There it is…

Jake: Get a good look now, ‘cause we’re coming in fast! Welcome to La Huerta.

The plane sinks toward the gorgeous, sprawling island. At its center, a volcano rises above the rainforest, breathing a white column of smoke.

Jake: La Huerta Tower, this is tail number XC-DMK, requesting emergency priority to land!

Radio: …

Jake: Carlos! Pick up, you lazy bastard. It’s Jake!

Radio: …

Jake: Ignoring me won’t make me forget the hundred bucks you owe me. Like it or not, we’re coming in!

The plane lands on a dirt airstrip at the edge of the island, pulling into a hangar. You step down the stairs into the warm tropical sunshine.

Tim: Rough landing, Joker. Hope you don’t work for tips.

Jake: You kidding? I’m a damn hero for even getting you on the ground! Carlos, I need a tune-up! … Carlos!

As Jake marches off, the rest of your group pulls their luggage from the plane’s cargo bay…

Quinn: This island’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. The beaches, the waterfalls…

Grace: It’s also home to a plethora of rare flora and fauna!

Craig: Only ten spots on the trip, and they had to give one to this dork…

You reach for your suitcase handle just as Sean does.

Sean: Oh, sorry!

Tim: If you wanna carry my bag, go right ahead.

Michelle: Oh my god. Could you be any more desperate?

A pretty girl in heavy makeup drapes her arms around Sean.

Michelle: People like you always hover around the spotlight like moths.

Tim: Spotlight?

Michelle: Yeah, right. As if you don’t know who Sean is.

Craig: Seriously? Our superstar quarterback? … The Heisman frontrunner?

Sean: Guys, it’s cool. Chill out--

Michelle: Look, Sean doesn’t need any famehounds hanging around, got it?

Tim: Exactly. So what are you doing here?

Michelle: Ex-cuse me?!

Tim: You heard me. You’re just stalling to think up a comeback. Don’t worry. I’ll wait.

Michelle: You--

Sean: Michelle, can you chill? And I don’t mean Netflix and chill. I mean actual chill. Please.

As Michelle starts arguing with Sean, you back away. Your foot clinks on something.

Tim: Huh? What’s this?

Diego: Is that… a tranquilizer dart? The vial’s nearly empty. It must’ve hit its target.

Tim: Yeah, and this is a pretty big dose. Whatever animal they took down must’ve been huge.

Diego: You mean, if they took it down.

You look up and see someone watching you from nearby, listening to your conversation.

Tim: Hey, Diego… who is that?

Diego: Dunno. Got eyes for the mysterious hottie, huh?

Tim: There’s something… off about her.

Diego: What gives you that idea?

Tim: She’s too quiet.

Diego: Quiet? So what? I’m quiet. Well, when I’m not around you.

Tim: I guess you’re right. I don’t know why I’m being suspicious.

Diego: Huh… well, there is one thing.

Tim: What?

Diego: We were told that ten students from our college had won this trip, right? Obviously we’re not counting the pilot or the guide, but… Count us off. She makes eleven.

You look in the girl’s direction once more, and this time she’s staring directly back at you. Your eyes lock. You try to look away, but for some reason you can’t, as if she’s pulling you in with her gaze.

Jake: Hey, Lila! Where the hell are your people?

Jake storms back, and at last the silent girl looks away. The strange hold over you dissipates. You shake it off.

Jake: There’s nobody here!

You all look around. You and your group are still the only people at the airstrip.

Lila: They should be here in a shuttle to take us up to the main resort, but… I’m sure it’s just a slight delay! No need to fret! They’ll be here any minute.

Jake: The hell with that. I’m going up to that control tower to get some answers.

Tim: What do you think is going on here?

Jake: No idea… Call it a gut feeling, but whatever it is, it ain’t good. So, Boy Scout? You comin’ or not?

Michelle: I could go with you--

Jake: Wasn’t talkin’ to you, Maybelline.

Lila: Um, okay! I guess, the rest of you, please follow me? We’ll take the short walk up the hill to the resort. Sounds fun, right? Yay! Um, Quinn? Where are you going?

Quinn is skipping past Lila, unbuttoning her blouse.

Quinn: Some of us want to explore the beach a little first! We’ll meet you guys at the hotel! Oof, this button’s stuck. Tim, could you help me?

Tim: Oh! Sure…

Quinn draws close to you, and you help her undo the last button. She slips out of her top.

Quinn: Ahh, that’s better! You’re coming to the beach with us, right?

Tim: I’m tired. I’ll just head up to the hotel now.

Your group gradually winds your way up the paved road, rolling your suitcases. You’re beginning to fatigue when you come around the bend and see it…

Lila: May I be the first to welcome you all to The Celestial!

Grace: We get to stay here?!

Zahra: Huh. Maybe this trip won’t suck.

Sean: Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s check out our rooms.

Your group excitedly heads toward the lobby, passing under a long, ornamented overhang, while Lila launches into her rehearsed speech.

Lila: ‘The Celestial Hotel and Resort, the jewel of the Caribbean, boasts 25 stories and 1,200 suites of the finest tropical accommodations you can imagine. Built on the island of La Huerta, which means ‘The Garden’, the Celestial ranked in Travel and Leisure’s top ten global hotels last year.’

The automatic doors slide open welcomingly, and you enter the crisp air conditioning of the lobby… Every last one of you freezes where they stand.

Tim: Um…

Lila: I… I don’t understand.

The silence is deafening. The front desk stands deserted. Suitcases and luggage carts lie unattended. On a table, a half-finished wine glass gathers dust.

Zahra: If this place is supposed to be so great… Then where the hell is everyone?

[kookieseyes]

I hate you │7

Originally Posted by jeonsshi

summary:  You can’t hold back your feelings for the fuckboy and neither can he. member: Jeon Jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, angst word count: 5k warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook badboy!Jungkook I hate you Masterlist │ 1 │ 2 │ 3 │ 4 │ 5 │ 6 │ 7 │ (ongoing) A/N: Thank you guys, 200+ followers seems like a dream.  To celebrate 200 you can ASK and SUBMIT Literally ANYTHING. What made you click “Keep Reading”?  do you want to see other character’s POV? Was there anything that confused you? Was there a part that was too cringy? Just want to say hi? go ahead!!! 

The softness of the blanket hugged your whole body, making you sink deeper into the warm mattress. You didn’t remember the last time your bed felt so comfortable. The feeling was quite strange, but comforting at the same time, helping you forget about what had happened the day before, not that you remembered much of it. You stretched out your body and slowly opened your eyes. “What the fuck?”-no wonder the bed was so comfy, that’s because it wasn’t yours, just like the blanket you were wrapped up in, or the room you were so happy to wake up in just a few seconds ago. What happened, why were you here, who brought you? All the questions were wandering in your brain, not remaining on a single topic for a long period of time. “Okay, breathe, Y/N, just breathe”-you tried to calm yourself down, while carefully looking around the room. You didn’t want to make any sound, to make yourself present just in case that someone who brought you here was still in the apartment. You took off the blanket, causing the sudden shame and embarrassment to stiffen your body, at the sight of the only remaining clothes you were wearing: a black lace underwear and a baggy white T-shirt that didn’t belong to you. You sighed heavily, covering your mouth from shock and once again looked around just to see a glass of water and a piece of paper lying on top of the nightstand:

“Take the pill for your headache, I’m gone for the groceries. Don’t leave before I get back, we need to talk-Jungkook”

“What have you done, Y/N?” There was a limit to how stupid and careless you could be and you’d crossed it a long time ago. The first thought that came into your head was to find a way out of this messed up situation. The last thing you remembered from yesterday was him kissing some other girl, you getting upset and taking a drink from Yoongi. Then you stormed outside and then… there was nothing, a complete blank. 

The only visible evidence you had from yesterday was your phone, maybe you texted Ava, texted your parents, anything that would explain why you were lying half-naked on a bed of a person who you used to despise with your whole heart. A sudden call awoke you from thoughts.  Ava was the only person who would understand you, not judge and actually make you feel less shitty about yourself.

“Hey Y/N!-she said, and you felt how hearing her silky voice immediately made you relax, until all your thoughts once again transformed into agony and with the panicky voice you were physically unable to hold your tongue and started saying whatever came to your mind

“Ava….Ava, listen, I’m at Jungkook’s place and...I don’t know, I think I slept with him… I don’t remember anything, I..Uh. oh my god, I’m only wearing the underwear and a T-shirt...That means we did it, right? And now he’s gone...I think he just wanted to ditch me...Ava, answer me!-after not hearing a single syllable from her, you finally stopped stammering. Ava was patiently listening to your incoherent words and now was in a full supportive best friend mode.

“Listen, Y/N, you need to calm down for a second and listen to what I’m going to say, okay?her tone was so boss-like, so in control that you immediately followed her orders.

“So, yesterday, at the party, this guy, Yoongi spiked your drink”

“He did what?”-You were in shock, as though it hadn’t happened to you

“Let me finish! Basically, Jungkook found you half-passed out and called me”

“That still doesn’t explain why I’m in his fucking bed!” “Y/N, I swear you cut me off again one more time and I’m hanging up! “Okay, okay, I’m listening”

“I came to get you and he went back to the house and beat the shit out of that Yoongi guy”-you were suppressing your impulse to speak up again, but you wanted to hear the whole story. “Then all of us, Jimin, I and Jungkook took you to his place because it was the closest. And then you know what comes after you get something in your digestive system that you do not want there”

“Did I seriously throw up in Jungkook’s apartment?” “You’re the one and only” “And I’m still here, because…”-why was she just not getting to the point? “Because you obviously couldn’t go home in that condition and my apartment is barely enough for me and my roommate and by the way, your parents were not pleased when I called them and told them you were staying at my place, they didn’t seem to buy it” “That’s it? Is that your reasoning why you left me alone to spend the night with the university’s biggest fuckboy? Are you out of your mind? Ava, who are you even?” “Why are you acting so surprised? You know he’s head over heels for you, he’d never do something to hurt you” “Ava! I can’t believe you! Weren’t you the one telling me to keep away from him, that he was dangerous and to be careful?” “That was until  I saw the way he looks at you, or when he nags me to tell him what your next class is so that he can “accidentally” meet you in the hallway, ask Jimin, even he thinks Jungkook is getting more annoying because you’re all he talks about.”

“What? Why am I hearing this for the first time?” “because he asked me not to tell you.”

“But he kissed that girl yesterday, and he knew I was watching, knew how I felt and still did it”

“You just confirmed to me that you feel something towards him, that’s a step forward. At least you admit it. I don’t know what the hell happened to you two yesterday before I found you passed out in his arms, but the way I see it is that both of you are too stubborn to show your feelings to each other, but the rest of the world knows all about it. “But why…”-you didn’t get to finish, you couldn’t get his smirk out of your head after he kissed that girl and blatantly looked at you. You were torn between two versions of him. The one Ava was telling you about, and the impudent one at the party yesterday. The main question was, which one was the real him? “Hey, Y/N, I’m your best friend, but I’ll never be Jungkook. If you want to know why he did something, or why he acted the way he did, he’s the one you should ask. And about you sleeping with him, I can’t be sure. You didn’t do anything while Jimin and I were there, but after we left you might not have survived Jungkook’s charm. You’re with him, aren’t you?

“Actually, no, he left me a note that he’ll come back soon and I don’t know if you’re teasing or you’re being serious”

“Aww… the first love letter, how romantic, my girl’s all grown up”-she completely disregarded your concern. “Ava, you’re just too much sometimes, you know that, right?

“Of course, that’s why you love me. Don’t forget to call your parents after you speak with him”

“I won’t, thank you, Ava, really, I don’t know what I’d do without you” after hanging up, you forced yourself to get up from the bad. You called out to Jungkook but after not hearing anything, you were convinced there was nobody in the apartment.

You got up to find the clothes you were wearing the day before. The bedroom you were in was huge, definitely too big for someone who lived there alone. The small light coming through the dark curtains was not enough for you to see much as if someone had drawn them on purpose not to let the light in. You jumped out of the bed and felt the softness of the carpet below your feet and that’s when the memories resurfaced.

Your bare feet touching the dampness of the ground yesterday, events that led you there, Sam and then Jungkook and that girl, and the anger, fear, embarrassment all mixed together with drowsiness you felt from the drink. How ironic, you were running away from the guy you ended up spending the night with. 

If he just wanted to mock you by leading you on, then why did he take care of you yesterday? Why didn’t he just leave you there?Why couldn’t he be less complicated? No matter how many times you tried, Jungkook still remained as a puzzle you could never solve.

You clothes seemed to have disappeared into thin air, you had no choice but to leave on whatever you were wearing and find something else in a closet. You opened the drawer and quickly closed it in a sight of Jungkook’s tidily folded underwear. You got luckier the second time and picked out the gray sweatpants he used to wear often. It was still too big for you, to say the least, the hems gracefully sweeping the floor, but it was better than nothing.

You carefully opened the bedroom door, halfway shutting your eyes until they finally adjusted to the blinding brightness. That’s why the curtains were drawn, he’d done it for you. The door was leading to a huge room that served both as a living room and the kitchen. You would never imagine Jungkook living in a house like this. It was so not him, overly elegant for a guy who talked about video games and sex all the time. You expected the whole room to be scattered with video game cases and snack leftovers on the floor. But instead of a mess, where things are usually placed where they don’t belong, forgotten and then found months later, you were met with the neatly styled room with light purple walls, decorated with the same colored hanging shelves for little toys and family pictures put in small and big frames. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of all of this, a new side of Jungkook that you never knew existed. A small boy was smiling from the picture, standing directly in front of the line where the sky meets the ocean, feet covered by the golden sand, his one hand intertwined with the girl not much older than him and the other one holding the woman’s hand. The man was running towards them, barely making it in the photo. They were curiously looking at him, anticipating whether he can get there in time to be next to them or not.The photo was so natural, full of real emotions that you could almost hear the laughter from the family and the sound of waves crashing against the beach. They were probably his sister and parents he mentioned before. The photo had a date on it 16.07.2000. So it was a three-year-old Jungkook having a time of his life on the family vacation.

The sound of the doorbell startled you. First, you thought it was Jungkook, your mind got dazed again, how were you supposed to meet him? Especially not knowing if you slept with him last night or not,  were you supposed to talk to him in a friendly way? Thanks for letting me stay the night, have a good day? Or were you supposed to be angry? But then you realized it was not Jungkook ringing the bell. Why would he leave the house without a key? But you didn’t have enough time to think, because that someone ringing a bell was obviously getting impatient, not letting a single press on the button last for long. You looked through the peephole and saw a woman in her mid-twenties holding two kids. You didn’t hesitate to open the door.

“Hey, Y/N”-the woman said casually. Not even asking your identity and entering the room.

“Uhm... Hi, how do you know my name?”-you asked more than confused, awkwardly playing with the ends of Jungkook’s T-shirt you were still wearing.

“What do you mean how I know, aren’t you Jungkookie's girlfriend?-she asked, not even looking at you, busy while taking off the kids’ warm jackets one by one.

“A girlfriend? No, no, no, we’re not dating”-you said, shaking your head in panic.

“I see... anyway, I’m Irene, Jungkook’s sister”-judging by her look she obviously didn’t buy whatever you said. “Nice to meet you, Irene, your brother already told you my name”-You decided not to touch the girlfriend topic anymore. That was so strange, why did he have to tell his sister? Maybe he just complained about the irritating girl he had to team up with for the stupid assignment. “That’s right, he told me about you, actually he speaks about you all the goddamn time”

“He does what?”

“Oops, I was not supposed to say that, he won’t be pleased”-she said and winked at you implying that what she just said was a secret between us.

“What? What exactly is it that he told you?”- you were furious, he probably told her how annoying you were, concerned about the details to make everything perfect. No matter the fact that you were seeing Irene for the first time, for some reason you didn’t want her to have the wrong impression about you.

“You know, a typical boy has a crush on girl stuff, Y/N did this, Y/N did that”-That was too much information for your brain to process. Jungkook had a crush on you? And he told his sister about it?

“Y/N don’t tell him, or else he won’t let me leave the kids with him anymore, and a good babysitter is hard to find!”- You silently nodded, still shocked from what had just happened and turned your head to see the kids playing with the toys. So that’s who the toys on the shelves belonged to from earlier. Jungkook, a babysitter, that would be a sight to see. Irritated Jungkook playing video games and kids running around him like crazy not letting him do his thing.

“Actually, I know we just met and everything”-Irene continued-”but can I ask you something?”

“Of course” “Do you like him?”-you were startled by the question. Not waiting for her to be so direct and get straight to the point

“I.. uh... I don’t know.. It’s so..”-you were surprised at your own incapability of speaking a full sentence. Why did he always have that effect on you, even if he wasn’t nowhere near you?

“Don’t answer me if you don’t want, but please at least don’t hurt him”-hurt him? Jungkook? You were the only one getting hurt from whatever relationship you had “he might seem like a tough guy, but since our parents left, he’s distanced himself from people. He never gets involved in deep relationships because he thinks everyone leaves at some point. You’re the first person with whom he let his guards down, so please if you don’t feel the same as he does, don’t let him think otherwise.

“I don’t know how to respond to that… I don’t want to get my hopes up and then hear from Jungkook that I’m the only one who feels something, that’s why I’m waiting for him to come back”

“Oh, where is he?”-Irene asked as if she just realized Jungkook was the one who was supposed to meet her here and not you.

“Left a note that he’s gone for the groceries”

“Shit, do you know when he’s coming back? I’m kinda running out of time”-at hearing her mom cursing, the little boy quickly got up and ran towards her “Mommy, you owe me twenty cents, for saying a bad word”-his face lit up when Irene took out twenty cents from the pocket with shame and handed it to a boy.

“Mommy’s gonna go bankrupt soon with Jungkook as a brother to make her life twice as hard as it already is”-she said not to the boy, but more for you to hear.

“I’m supposed to meet my husband at the airport, I’m really sorry for asking this, but could you please take care of the kids before Jungkook comes?” She didn’t even let you answer the question, quickly grabbed the car key and pointed at the kids. 

“This is Junsu and this is Mina,  guys, look up, this is Y/N. She’s gonna stay with you until Jungkookie comes okay? The kids waved their hands at you and continued playing, they didn’t even complain when their mother hurriedly stormed out of the door.

 Great, the day definitely didn’t go in an ordinary way. Thank god it was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to University or work. You were stuck with Jungkook’s niece and nephew in a very confusing situation and there was nothing else to do other than making the best of it.

You loved children but you were an only child, so you didn’t have anyone to play with and tell your darkest secrets to as a child. You were always astonished by the way children think, even the most creative person on earth will be jealous of their imagination.

 Junsu and Mina were both friendly and talkative. They usually went off topic whenever you asked them something, but listening to them going on and on about their childish problems made you want to have that childish innocence back. In ten minutes you knew everything about their kindergarten friends, their teachers, and crushes.  

Then when there was nothing else to talk about, you started playing hide and seek. Of course with a majority of votes, it was decided that you were “it”. “Ready or not, here I come! You said and immediately noticed Mina’s red dress next to the fridge. “I wonder where they are, why are they such good hiders?” You said jokingly and heard the children giggling. 

“Who’s that pretty girl next to the fridge?” you said out loud and got closer to her. When she noticed you, she screamed and ran away from her hiding place. “I’m gonna catch you”-you deliberately slowed down the pace, jogging to pretend as if you were running and couldn’t catch her.

“Y/N you’re so slow”-you heard the boy’s voice from the other side of the room as he joined his sister on the run-“you’ll never catch us”. What has this game turned into, the rules were changed as fast as they were made and now you were trying to catch two kids at the same time. 

Tired from jogging, which turned out to be far more exhausting than you thought, you finally caught Mina and brought her into your arms. You started tickling her, her laughter lighting up the room. 

“The enemy’s got you, I’ll save you,” Junsu said dramatically like he was a hero trying to save the protagonist from the evil monster. He ran towards you with full speed and caused you to stumble on your feet. You were fast enough to put Mina down safely on the floor before you ended up falling on the floor yourself. 

“Now it’s your turn,” said the little girl in a cute manner and started tickling you the same way you’d done before. Junsu joined her and now you were the one laughing so much that the tears started falling down on your cheeks,”stop, stop, stop”-you were begging between the breaths you could take.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?”-said a man with a black T-shirt, ripped jeans and Timberlands still holding shopping bags in both of his hands. Mina and Junsu immediately stopped after hearing the voice, both of their faces lit up as if they saw their favorite toy in the room.

“Kookie! The kids said simultaneously as if they’d practiced doing that multiple times. Jungkook took both kids in his arms. Junsu crawled up to his neck and sat there as if it was his rightful place, Mina hung onto his neck. Both of them looked like monkeys jumping on a tree. You couldn’t believe how patient Jungkook was with them. If anyone else had as much as dared to bother him like that, he would have already killed them. But there he was, his one hand placed on Junsu to make sure he wouldn’t fall back from his neck and the other hand holding Mina so that she wouldn’t fall down.

The scene was too unique to miss and too amusing for you to notice Jungkook’s stare, that couldn’t hide his smile at how good you looked in his white T-shirt. “Do you need a hand?”- Only when he asked you realized you were still lying on the floor and hastily got up.

“Sorry, I...uh… I’m gonna go now since you came home”-you completely forgot all your plans about talking to him, you got nervous, wanting nothing more than to get out of his intoxicating presence, until you couldn’t hold yourself and tell him everything that bothered you, pour your heart out.

“Y/N, you’re going?”-Junsu said before Jungkook could look up from his bangs that Junsu was so expertly covering his eyes with.

“Don’t go, please!”-Mina followed and held out her one arm, still hanging around her uncle’s neck, to signal you she wanted to be held by you. Before you even knew you were involuntarily holding your arms out too. How could someone so small be so persuasive? Now you looked at Jungkook and noticed disappointment in his still covered eyes. Maybe he wanted you to stay, maybe something could work out between you two, maybe... 

“Y/N you should stay, I was serious about the talk”-when he gently touched your arm in reassurance all your doubts disappeared and your mind once again went blank. You knew he genuinely wanted to make everything clear between you two, once and for all. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, you simply nodded and looked as he gently put his nephew down.

“Who wants ice-cream?”-he announced. So that’s the kind of an uncle he was. Spoiling the kids with ice-cream in the morning.

“Kookie!!! You’re the best, I love you!”-immediately replied Mina. You couldn’t hold yourself from smiling when you heard his cute nickname said once again. The first time you thought you mistakenly heard something, but now you were sure that’s what the kids called him. It was so unsuitable with his tough, bad boy image. But again, he was full of surprises.

“But it’s still morning”-you said as you grabbed one of Jungkook’s shopping bags, realizing that Junsu was refusing to let one of his hands go.

“Ice-cream police”-Jungkook said and smiled at you. You could tell that his smile was different from all the other smiles he’d given you since you’d known him, little shy and timid. Maybe he was uncomfortable with you seeing him like this, with his family around.

“Ice-cream police”-the kids repeated after him and pointed their tiny fingers at you. In response, you held your hands up.

“Like uncle, like nephew and niece!”

All four of you sat on the kitchen stools, with Jungkook laying the table. He got you a cup and put three bowls in front of the children and him.

“Your mom called when I was already on my way back home and I had to go back and buy your favorite ice-cream, little lady”-Jungkook said taking Mina’s bowl to scoop some ice-cream into it.

“Thank you”-said Mina and started eating chocolate chip mint ice-cream with huge bites-”Y/N, this is my favorite, I don’t like the other ones, they taste gross”

“Mom said if you say that word again about food you’d have to go to bed before 9”-Junsu said as he dived into his ice-cream that he was so impatiently waiting for.

“She also said don’t talk with your mouth full”-So impressed with her witty comeback both you and Jungkook started laughing.

“Why does she remind me of someone else I know?”-Jungkook asked, without a doubt talking about you and disapprovingly shaking his head, as he took your cup to put ice-cream in it.

“I don’t eat…”

“Sweets on an empty stomach, it makes you dizzy, I know”

“That is...true”-you said, not quite believing that he remembered such a small detail. He poured some hot water and gave the cup back to you, now full of hot chocolate. Touched by his poignant act you found yourself unable to take your eyes off of him, even after his own eyes found yours.

“Y/N!-Junsu’s voice forced you to realize where you were and finally look away-”are you Kookie’s girlfriend?”

“Huh? What, no!” You almost choked from the little sip you took

“Kookie, is Y/N your girlfriend?”-now it was Mina’s turn to speak up. The kids were obviously teaming up against you.

“Didn’t you hear? Y/N doesn’t like me and she’s already with someone else”-Jungkook didn’t even look at Mina, his eyes were focused on yours, now more offended and enraged.

“What are you talking about? That’s not true, plus you’re the one who doesn’t like me”

“Which one’s not true, because one of them definitely is, judging by you kissing your beloved boyfriend yesterday”

“He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my ex and can we talk about it somewhere else?

Both of you got up, faster than you’d want it to look, leaving the kids eating ice-cream behind and entered Jungkook’s room.

“Don’t lie to me, Ava told me you were together”-Jungkook started as soon as he closed the door behind you.

“Well, she clearly missed the part where we broke up, a year ago”

“Is that why you were kissing him?”

“I kissed him to figure out if I still had feelings for him, to finally put an end to our relationship”

“Right, I believe you, and to console him you started patting him after a passionate kiss? for fuck’s sake, why didn’t you cuddle him right then and there, in front of me, while you clearly knew I was there, that’s so messed up”

“How is that messed up Jungkook? Who are you to tell me that? he’s my ex, but he’s still my friend”

“Why didn't you stay with him then?”

“Because I was too busy running after you and guess what, Jungkook? I didn't get to tell you shit because you were making out with that girl. Can I ask you the same question? why didn’t you stay with her? Why am I the one waking up in your bed instead of her?

“I wouldn’t have kissed her if I hadn’t seen you kissing someone else. She doesn't mean anything”

“Of course she doesn't. You had to use her and then leave the poor girl alone, just like many others to go after the one you couldn't fuck?”

“Don't say it like that. You're not just someone I couldn’t...fuck. I saw you crying and knew I messed up, so I followed you out. Do you have any idea how scared I was when you lost consciousness?”

“No, I don’t, because I was so hurt, thinking you just played me that I took a fucking spiked drink from someone I didn’t know”

His already heavy breath seemed to completely stop at hearing your words, all the rage, fury and hurt were slowly replaced by guilt in his eyes.

“I’m sorry”-he slowly mumbled and judging by the way he avoided your gaze, he truly felt guilty and responsible for what had happened to you. Clenching fists the veins on his arms and neck became more visible. He was holding his breath so much that you were scared he would pass out soon. “I’m so sorry, god, I’m such an idiot, Y/N,  it’s all my fault, you almost got hurt because of me” The argument was clearly over. How were you supposed to respond to that? 

“Jungkook, I should’ve been more careful!- you touched his still clenched fist, to try to loosen it.He was the reason why you wanted to get wasted yesterday, but you were an adult, you should’ve taken care of yourself. He was obviously jealous, seeing you kiss Sam. He would never, ever admit that, but it was obvious both of your jealousy brought you here where you were. Why was it hard for you to say straight forward what you felt. But for some reason, words seemed excessive at that moment.

”Hey, look at me”-you told him after you noticed how much he was struggling to look at anything else but you. Slowly, he raised his head and opened the clenched fist. Now your hands were barely touching, having nowhere else to be other than each other’s hold. But you didn’t dare to do it, not unless you were hundred percent sure what you were getting yourself into. 

“Jungkook, can I ask you something?”-instead of answering and breaking the comforting silence, he nodded

“Did we… you know, did we?-You didn’t finish the question and just pointed at his bed, that you had woken up into in the morning.

“I don’t speak gibberish, what was that?-the mood in the room changed in a second. His eyes started sparkling with amusement again. The sparkles that didn’t fail to mesmerize you every single time.

“Don’t make me say it, you know what I mean”

“I’m not sure, are you asking if we had sex in my bad?

“Ahem, yes, exactly that”-you nervously answered his awkward question.

“Y/N, I kicked Yoongi ass, because he tried to have sex with you while you were drugged”

“He didn’t try to have sex with me, just...”

“Just drugged you so that you would pass out and someone would take advantage of you?

“You’re right, I’m sorry, you wouldn’t… ”

“I would never, ever hurt you, okay? and definitely, wouldn’t have sex with you while you were unconscious. I mean, I wouldn't say no if you were awake and under different circumstances, but…”

“Jungkook!”-The tone of your conversation turned into a playful one that both of you were so used to. 

You were about to give him a witty comeback, when a shutter sound made you turn towards the door, where two little kids were holding a camera, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Oh my god, Junsu, you’re so dumb, I told you to take a picture when they kissed”.

[thelastofi-blog]

???

I draw.  I can draw. A little, yes but I can. I’m not bad at it. I’m getting better. What would things be like if I never picked up on it?

I’ve always been discouraged from drawing. My parents believed that anything creative was nonsensical, immoral, and they frowned upon it. Heavily. I wasn’t allowed to read fictional stories so I had to smuggle books home from school and read them in the van to and from school. A shaky, wobbly ride meant nothing as long as I could read, read, read. If my father found out, there would be repercussions. I’ve had countless books snatched, slapped across my face and over my head, and shredded to bits beyond recovery. I needed an escape. I always did. I found it in books. They took it away. Then I realised that I could draw. I could just...draw. They couldn’t say anything, could they? Not if I drew on my art book? It’d just merge seamlessly with the boring sunsets and inane ‘My Garden’ bullshit wouldn’t it?  It did, for a short time. My art teacher complained to my mum at a PTA meeting. She showed her my secret sketches of people, my loose papers full of scribbles and doodles.  They tried to beat it out of me. Confiscated my colours. My extra pens and pencils. My tools for escape. I was devastated, but what to do? In 4th grade, my English teacher saw my greed for all things creative and she introduced me to Roald Dahl.  ‘I have a nice book for you,’ she said. ‘It has some lovely pictures as well.’ Thus, I was introduced to his humorous and sardonic style of writing. Full of irony, sarcasm, full of life. I loved it. I LOVED it. I wanted more. More. More. More. But it wasn’t just the writing, it was the pictures. Those illustrations ignited a strange sort of desire, a need to draw. They were imperfectly perfect, bursting with activity and just so perfectly complemented his writing style. If his words were pictures, they would be Quentin’s. I began to perceive things differently, I saw things that needed a second look to spot. I looked past the loud stuff and saw quiet details hidden and waiting to be discovered. I was fascinated. I was hooked. Through the years, through countless physical interventions, abuse, finished pieces destroyed before my eyes, harsh words, discouragement, having my self esteem bashed and crippled, I drew.  I took all my tears, my quivering, my anxiety, my terror, my paranoia, my anger and I turned it into art. I could use these tools to break through. I knew that. I refused to let them take this away from me. I knew I had something I could nurture and foster until it grew and grew, past the zenith of possibility. Tearing its way through, not fazed by any obstacle in its path. So I kept at it. 

***

The final stone, hit much later. I was 16. I had drawn and drawn until my lines were refined. My figures were brilliant and my hands were as steady as a cliff in a storm. I could draw on and on, until, my body gave up out of exhaustion and I would fall asleep at dawn. I knew I was good. Better than most people I knew, anyway. My mother saw me drawing at the table. She was a lot more relaxed than my father about this stuff, but she was still disapproving. ‘Here, you need to stop. You can’t draw, man. There are so many other artists better than you. You’re just wasting your time.’ What made such an impact was the very very strong tone she used. As if she was a God-kissed Messiah declaring holy truths. There was no vindictiveness in her tone, no anger. Just plain, factual and true. I couldn’t cry. This wasn’t a sad moment for me. It was a very, very, very alarming, terrifying almost emotionally fatal moment. Have I really wasted my time? Can I really not draw? I gave up. I put the pencil down and focused on a plethora of petty hobbies to while my time away. I tried gardening, cooking, craftwork, embroidery, cross-stitch etc. I spent my time on the internet, looking at beautiful illustrations and imperfect doodles and thinking ‘I can do better,’ or ‘I can do something like that,’ but never doing anything at all. During my short stint at AOD, my lecturer Liz played music in the classroom so we could enjoy ourselves while drawing. She was walking around, complimenting everyone, telling us how well we were doing. I was waiting for her to saunter up towards me and tell me how good my picture was. I couldn’t hide my excitement as she walked up to my table. ‘Look at this one. She’s drawing. This one is drawing.’  I felt something strange, something I’d buried somewhere amidst the clutter in my mind.  Encouragement. She didn’t compliment my picture. She didn’t have to. She told me exactly what I wanted to hear but it was much, much better.  I was drawing. Not drawing, no. Drawing. I had it in me. It was my special little skill, just like how some people figured out how to work an equation without knowing what the method was. How some people could pick up an instrument and play it without a guide. How some people can brew the perfect cup of coffee with the same ingredients as anyone else. I just could.

How stupid I felt, for giving up! How angry I was!  ‘I’m an idiot. I don’t deserve this,’ I would say.  And then, it began. Day after day I’d draw, to make up for lost time. Voraciously spitting whatever I could conjure onto the paper. It was almost as if I was preserving parts of my soul and the papers were horcruxes of sorts.  I never stopped.

Of course I was still discouraged. They tried, but this time it was strong. It wasn’t easy. I had to climb mountains with my crippled self-esteem, constantly questioning my abilities. I had to keep at it when I couldn’t. I had to. 

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

I’m still drawing. I’ve met people along the way who’ve encouraged me with kind words, who have told me to ‘keep at it,’ and to never give up. I’ve made friends who I can turn to, should I feel incompetent again. This new intent is forged from fire and sealed with graphite. I will keep drawing, until I bleed ink and my nails turn to lead. Until my last draw is nothing but a feeble gasp for breath and all that is left are pages fluttering in the wind.

[theres-someone-to-write-about-it]

A Queen’s Return

“I remember you being… prettier.” He stares down at me, brows furrowed in contempt for the woman he is betrothed to marry. I do not open my mouth, biting back the fire in my throat I wish to spit at him. In true womanly manners, I smile before bowing my head as my body automatically curtsies. 

“I apologize, my lord. She came to us like this,” the Duke detaches all blame from himself, avoiding any possible way I could meet his eyes. Not moments ago he was reassuring and comforting, however in the face of a King true colors are shown. I am not here to be beautiful, I am here to follow through on an alliance. Had either of them known what I had been through away from court, maybe their words would be kinder. I refuse to allow them to pity me, I will suffer disdain before pity. The King shrugs, grown bored with my arrival, and I am shipped off to my chambers to prepare for my first official dinner back at court. 

As I am escorted from the room, I hear all manner of talk to cancel much of celebration for this evening. It seems the King does not wish to show off his now ugly bride. He may do what he wishes, I shall have no more influence on him now than when we are married. Despite what ladies maids and lesser courtiers whisper, I am no more happy about this arrangement than he is. 

My chamber is considerable, as fit for a Queen to be. A large bed, four wooden posts with all manner of floral designs cut into them by hand, taking hours, perhaps years, supporting an elegant canopy. Around the large room are symbols of my future husband's country; crests and colors of the flag, as to constantly remind me of where I must spend the rest of my days. Bitterly, I almost refuse to sit on the bed, wishing to burn the entire room in order to redecorate it myself with all the things I wished to bring from home. However, I would most likely be ordered to enjoy the smell of burnt curtains. I am no longer of my home, there is nothing there for me now. 

Within the wardrobe are dresses off all style and color, in the drawers shoes to match. All manner of makeup and skin care products in the vanity. It is all any courtier woman would dream of. To please my King, these things will be plastered across my face to achieve some sort of aesthetic favor, distract him from the fact that in 15 years I have indeed changed. A long, sad sigh lets up from my throat but I have no time to pity myself. My task has been planned and ingrained in my memory since I was old enough to understand my father's advisors crafty words and double meanings. I’ve been sent here for one reason and I mustn't fail. I hear a knock on the door, the page enters announcing the names of my ladies. I forget them within minutes as their expressions of joy turn to exasperation at my unpleasing looks. 

They all rush to me at once, pulling out dresses by the armful in order to compare the color with my skintone. Pale yellow makes my face look sunken in, emerald doesn’t go with my eyes, and lavender washes out my hair. Finally, a deep blue gown is pulled from the very back, causing one of them to mutter how it was left here by the last one. Last one of the King’s ladies I assume with annoyance flaring in my gut. An unmarried man is allowed any past he wishes, especially a king, women on the other hand must be chaste else our worth be destroyed. I am sure that every eye in this castle is on me, looking for some stain on my reputation to remove my chances of marrying the King. 

The blue, despite its former ownership being questionable, makes my skin, eyes, and hair glow according to the women. It’s a simple piece, which has my appreciation and does not require much fuss to put on or walk in. Next, my face and hair are tugged at, smeared with substances, and drastically changed so that when I am allowed to look in the mirror I do not recognize myself, there is no trace of me left. 

The dinner bell rings, erupting in a rush of last minute checks in every reflective surface on the way to the dining room. The dining room itself was stripped of the grandeur previously planned, set with the lowest of plates and pewter goblets. It was a non-verbal slap in the face to my honor as a guest, but I did not waver in my stoney expression, acting as if I had not noticed. Surprisingly, a server pulled my chair beside the King out for me and I was prepared to sit by myself without anyone standing in honor, when a figure shadowed by the dusk light stood at attention and saluted me as my countrymen do in the highest honor. 

Whispers were silenced as I remain standing, awestruck and speechless at this outright defiance towards the King and allegiance to me. Politely, with as little smugness I could muster showing through, I smile and return to salute. It is good to know I have a friend here at court. As I sit, the figure waits a moment before following suit, and then the food and drinks are brought out from the kitchen. Servants do not bother to stick to the shadows as they do in formal meals, there is no glass raised to toast my return or talk of joyful memories many at the table and I shared as children. Courtiers gossip about the goings on in countries they’ve never set foot in, perpetuating false rumors that ruin kingdoms overnight. I move the food in front of me about my plate, not trusting that the smallest bite will not poison me. I keep my head high, posture straight, and eyes meeting everyone at the table. It’s better to know who will meet my eyes and who will avoid it at all costs, so far the only one I can trust is the dark figure at the end of the table who raises their glass or nods their head slightly whenever they find my glance on them. 

Four courses and not a chanced bite later, the actual guests take their leave, receiving a head bow and a generous thank you from the King. He has not looked in my direction once all evening, not that I expected him to. Even with the supposed miracle work my ladies had done, I am no more than the once beautiful young child and now ugly woman. We are escorted together from the hall, sheltered by our perspective parties from one another. The ladies talk of dresses and new people visiting in the coming days to see me before I am married to the King. A wedding date has been set for the coming year, plans being drawn without consultation from me as I am to assume everything will be. 

I take my leave from the incessant jabbering just as the four voices start to sound exactly the same. As if one person is having four parts of a conversation with herself. I strip from my gown, taking pleasure in removing every pin and kohl mark from my hair and face. There is a framed picture on my bureau I catch behind me in the mirror, it wasn’t there before. Once I am myself again, I pick up the picture. It is of me as a young child, formally taken here when a photographer came to visit the castle about his invention. Even through the grain, I see that I have changed so much. Looking back into the mirror, I analyze my features in attempt to justify the hatred for me. As a young girl my hair was the color of shadowed honeycomb, but as I grew older it darkened into a brown with only a glimpse of auburn. My eyes, too, have changed from a reflection of the pure blue sea to deeply sad olive green. Even my skin which once was pale and smooth has deepened to tan with an abundance of freckles. How could I have changed so much? 

Shaking away the brewing headache from not eating, today’s events, and my most recent inquiry. I turn down all the oil lamps and pull the covers up around my body in preparation for an uneasy night's sleep. I can practically hear my father growling in my ears, pushing me to complete my task that very night. He is a regularly impatient man, which is why his advisors charged me with this duty to my country. I must gain the trust of the King, be in his every confidence and thought as his wife. Only then may I take my choice of vials hidden amongst the few belongings I was awarded to bring, picking the poison most fitted to kill the King without rising the most suspicion. 

I will kill the King.  

The coming morning I am woken by a rather rude serving woman, angrily announcing the King’s Mother had demanded an audience with me. Grumbling to myself in the few moments of peace I have before the ladies arrive to fuss over my lack of presentability. I take a seat at my vanity, brushing fingers against the features I find agreeable despite being criticized otherwise. My elegantly sharp jaw and shapely cheekbones, I trace the underside of my collarbone sighing. I had just pride in it before, how my face thinned after being so full as a child. I had not much of a choice, really, fullness in the cheeks are gained through eating healthily as a royal, and such a luxury I was never afforded. 

Natural fullness in my figure has served me well in my life and this court, seemingly the only attribute that is not looked upon with almost promise. I stand and shrug on my robe as the four women storm into my chamber unannounced in a rush of giggling gossip. 

“Have you seen the size of his wardrobe? It’s as large as a lady’s,” one of them laughs heartily, her yellow hair is curled in waves down her back and set in graceful beadwork. I suppose that as I am to live here the rest of my known days, I should at least learn to separate one girl from the next. 

“Compensating for much smaller things I have no doubt,” this one has red hair, it curls naturally in untamable spirals only to the edge of her shoulder blades. The others giggle in agreement, only perpetuating what is implied. 

“Well you would know, Diana, or was it another noble that kept you from the lady’s chamber until this morning?” The third smirks over her shoulder at the fourth, presumably Diana. Both have raven hair, so straight it seems unnatural, and pinned with combs that are identical except in color. Sharing the same rounded jaw and soft brown eyes, I assume sisterhood. Diana gives no reply but a rude look to let the giggles die down. Finally, all four acknowledge my presence.

“Morning, your grace,” They say together, half curtsying. The urge to demand respect strikes my chest, but I must earn favor not grudges. I force a smile which appears real after all the practice I’ve had. 

“Good morning, ladies. I trust you slept well.” Looks of confusion and caution cross their faces as I had not spoken a word to anyone yesterday and scarcely met their eyes. Collectively, they nod in response muttering affirmatives. “Shall I start pulling my own dresses?” At that, it is a rush away from my eyes and to the wardrobe which is freshly stocked with gowns in shades of blue, violet, green less rich than the emerald I tried yesterday. Easily, I am dressed and even the process of my makeup is less extreme than it was for dinner. 

Soon I am being escorted to my future mother-in-law’s private balcony. She is also presented in less grandeur than last night’s dinner. Her brown hair matches that of her son, despite being grown out to be voluminous and lovely adorned in a Queen’s fashion. The morning sunlight glows the slightest gold within her dark chocolate hair. She looks up as soon as I enter the balcony, it is set with only two plates from the simplest of a Queen’s dining ware, much more respect than I received with dinner. “Good morning, my child. Please sit and have breakfast with me.” 

I smile softly with a deep bow and take the seat opposite her, smoothing out my skirt before speaking, “Thank you for having me, your Majesty. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.” 

“Oh, dear, if it is alright with you I’d prefer to skip all this formality and get to the point.” Her tone is light, but I am cautious as to what point she wishes to discuss. I am prepared to defend the alliance both she and I are sworn to. I nod in agreement, secretly happy to not constantly worry about every syllable I let escape my mouth. “Good, now as clearly made by the disgrace of a dinner, my son is not happy with this match. While I knew fully that you would change naturally over the years, my immature son expected the fair haired, doe-eyed, girl he enjoyed playing with as a child. Despite whatever the King may believe, we both know there is no way out of your marriage.” 

She pauses as servants bring out a plate of eggs, toast, and sausage. There was a bowl of sliced melons was placed on the table along with the filling of our goblets with white wine. I take a small sip and find it pleasantly refreshing, only momentarily hesitating with the thought of poison. The Queen nods her head knowingly, “We eat from the same pot, you have nothing to fear within my charge.”  

“Thank you, your Majesty, I am glad we are of equal mind on this matter.” 

[theconservativebrief]

Black turtlenecks, to avoid showing skin; old loafers, to deter accusations of being attention-seeking; blazers, to telegraph seriousness. And, to prove that the investigation hadn’t trampled her spirit, polka-dot flats.

In a New York Times op-ed published this January, Eva Hagberg Fisher explained the thought process that went into dressing for the legal events, television appearances, and meetings with lawyers and department chairs that ensued after she filed a sexual harassment complaint against her former graduate school adviser in 2016. Fisher’s goal was to look believable, and she assembled a wardrobe that would help her accomplish that.

When someone comes forward with a sexual assault or misconduct claim, as Palo Alto University professor Christine Blasey Ford is with her testimony against Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, the attention shouldn’t be on their clothes. But, of course, it is — not just because we all draw cues about a person based on their self-presentation, but because questions regarding harassment or assault all too often include the victim-blaming line “What were you wearing?” In cases of sexual assault, dress can be used to discredit, and so the optics of an outfit matter very much when a person is pursuing disciplinary or legal action.

This is the context for Ford’s testimony against Kavanaugh, which takes place today in front of the Senate Judiciary Committee. Ford says that when she and Kavanaugh were high school students, he forced himself on her at a party, attempted to take off her clothes, and put his hand over her mouth when she tried to scream.

Kavanaugh has denied these allegations, as well as those from Deborah Ramirez, an undergraduate classmate at Yale who says Kavanaugh exposed himself to her at a dorm party without her consent.

Ahead of the hearing, Ariel Colangelo, a former lawyer who has written about the sartorial scrutiny that women in the legal field face on a daily basis, said that one could expect Ford to “err on the side of being ultra-conservative and as non-interpretive as possible” — that is, to deny her audience the ability to glean much of anything from her clothes and thus keep from them any further tools with which to undermine her.

It’s not just a woman’s outfit that people will pick apart in a setting like this, Colangelo says. It’s her makeup, her jewelry, how she wears her hair.

“What happens [at the hearing] should hinge on her words and her presentation of the facts and have nothing to do with what’s on her body,” says Colangelo. “And that’s so far from the reality.”

For Kavanaugh, the question of dressing to look believable is a much simpler one: He’ll no doubt wear the same kind of suit in which he usually makes public appearances, an outfit that’s coded neutral in a setting like this. Indeed, he won’t look all that different from the other men in the room.

Christine Blasey Ford arrives to give testimony on September 27, 2018. Saul Loeb/Getty Images

To testify against Kavanaugh on Thursday morning, Ford wore a navy blazer with a navy shirt underneath. She wore her glasses. It’s a professional, unremarkable look — one that wouldn’t give onlookers much to talk about.

“This is not fashion week. This is not ‘What designer did she wear?’” said Lauren Rothman, a DC-based style consultant who works with clients in government and business, before the hearing began. “This is about messaging. The best advice that I can ever give someone who’s facing the public eye is that you don’t want to wear anything that’s going to distract from your message.”

That’s exactly what Ford did.

More significance could be drawn from a photograph of Ramirez published by the New Yorker last week. In the picture she stands in a field wearing jeans, an embroidered wrap, and a shirt that says “Puerto Rico” across the chest. That shirt takes on a pointed meaning in light of Kavanaugh’s career trajectory. Her father is Puerto Rican; Kavanaugh was tapped for the nation’s highest court by a president who has drastically and repeatedly denied Hurricane Maria’s death toll in Puerto Rico, after holding back on providing aid to the U.S. territory and blaming it for its struggle to deal with the storm’s aftermath.

Ramirez’s jeans and overall demeanor are notable as well. As the New York Times reports, Kavanaugh arrived at Yale from a much more privileged world than Ramirez did, and her casual styling, compared with Kavanaugh’s standard suit and tie, signals relative approachability.

Protesters at the Supreme Court building wore teal in honor of the suit Anita Hill wore to testify against Justice Clarence Thomas in 1991. Chet Strange/Getty Images

Ford’s testimony against Kavanaugh undeniably recalls 1991, when, in the lead-up to Justice Clarence Thomas’s Supreme Court confirmation, Anita Hill testified that Thomas had sexually harassed her. Outside the Supreme Court building on Thursday morning, echoes of Hill were everywhere, in the form of protesters wearing teal as a tribute to the striking suit that she wore on that occasion.

In preparation for Thursday’s rally, the National Organization for Women wrote on its website, “WEAR TEAL to support Dr. Blasey Ford. Anita Hill wore TEAL when she testified in 1991. Summon the courage and strength of Anita Hill when you support Dr. Blasey Ford this week.”

Other protesters wore black T-shirts that said, “I am a survivor and I vote.” Some had messages like “Time’s Up” and “Me too” written on the palms of their raised hands.

Dress figured into protests in the days leading up to Ford’s hearing. In solidarity with Ford, students and faculty at Yale Law School, Kavanaugh’s alma mater, staged a sit-in in the gothic Sterling Law Building — many of them wearing all black, as activists and actresses did at the 2017 Golden Globes to raise awareness for the Time’s Up organization.

Protesters gathered outside the Supreme Court building on the morning of Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony. Drew Angerer/Getty Images

As Rothman points out, color can be a powerful tool for those at the center of a hearing like this, either serving to magnify the spotlight already on them or allowing them to blend into the crowd. In a room full of black, navy, brown, and white, a burst of vibrant color — like the teal suit Hill wore in 1991 — can make a powerful statement. Ford chose the other route.

But outside the pale stone of the Supreme Court building, set against a cloudy sky, the protesters’ teal — and, in effect, their message — popped unmistakably.

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Original Source -> Christine Blasey Ford and the complications of dressing to look believable

via The Conservative Brief

[theroguequeenaniki]

Tuesday August 29th-Wednesday August 30th 2017

Here is my post documenting the first two days of classes. 

For Saturday 26th-Monday 28th 2017 go HERE

Tuesday August 29th 2017

What should have been the second day of classes, ended up being the first thanks to Hurricane/Tropical Storm Harvey. I had 4 classes. 

Morning.

I got up at around 8am, and got ready for the day. I took my “Obligatory First Day of Class” selfies. (As you would have seen from my Instagram post. There’s three pictures, but only one posts to Tumblr.) Then at around 8:30 I left for class. 

My first class is US Lit 1930-Present with Dr. Gano, a professor I’ve had twice before. (My Women & Lit class and the Sandra Cisneros course from last semester) I almost didn’t recognize her, because she’s chopped all of her hair off. (So, she’s got a pixie cut, basically. Like, Jamie Lee Curtis in Freaky Friday)  This class should be interesting. It's a lot of reading, but also watching movies, listening to music, and looking at images. ((Only part I'm not looking forward to is reading an exert from Trump's book..-_-..yes..we’re reading an exert from his book from the 80s..ugh..)) But, other than that, I think I’ll enjoy the class.

My next class, which is 10 minutes after the first one and in the UAC(first one in Flowers), is Food & Society. This one should be interesting. I’ve enjoyed all of my Sociology classes before. The only thing I’m worried about is the class has a similar vibe to my Sociology of the Family class from last Fall, which was kind eh in terms of discussion. Though it was only the first day, so who knows. I also need to eat before it(so like, before both classes) because it’s a class about food..right before lunch. I like the professor already, though, which is good. 

After Food & Society, I got lunch. I simply got a burger & fries from Cheeburger in Jones b/c everything else’s lines were excessive..and Wing it(the chicken place) wasn’t open. XD

Then I had my afternoon classes. 

First was Aging & Society. I think I’m REALLY going to like this one. First, the vibe of the class is more aligned with my Mind & Society class from last semester, and it’s smaller than the Food & Society class. As well, the professor seems great. She’s of Asian descent(I’m not entirely sure from which country, because she didn’t disclose that information to us). She seems really sweet and nice, and funny, and passionate about this area of Sociology. We did our first “assignment” which was to draw what comes to mind when we think of aging. She gave us a blank sheet of paper and crayons. XD We then went around the room and shared what we’d drawn. She’s going to keep them and give them back later, so we can see how our idea have changed over the course of the semester. We also discussed her attendance policy, which is great, because she’s giving us an award system. She doesn’t do extra credit, BUT, if all 20 of us come to class the next two weeks..we basically get a Pizza Party! (It could be Breakfast tacos though, because that’s apparently Texas State University’s favorite food XD). Or we could watch a movie. Or a combination of both, where we watch a shorter video(like an episode of something) and get food. So, basically, we’re gonna get a party in 2 weeks. And, from there we’ll discuss if this should be an ongoing thing. XD

My last class of the day was my Creative Writing: Senior Seminar. I was VERY anxious for this class. My anxiety for it only got worse after reading the syllabus, and my professor coming off as strict and..yeah. But, once I got to class, it’s 10 minutes after Aging & Society..from UAC to Flowers, 2nd floor. It doesn’t seem that bad. She seems really cool. Passionate. It’s a really small class, only 15 students, because these things tend to be. We have three story assignments. The 1st is just a one scene story(so like 3-6 pages, I believe). And the next two are longer form stories. The vibe of the group seems good, too. My professor actually reminds me of my Intro to Creative Writing professor, but more..together? Which is good, because that was one of the best Creative Writing, and just best overall classes, I’v ever taken. So, hopefully this workshop goes like that one and not the second one. There is, however, one person from my second Creative Writing class in this workshop. Though, luckily, she’s the one person I liked from that class. The one person who’s writing I connected with, and who connected with my writing. (I almost didn’t recognize her..because she’s grown her hair out) We signed up for dates for our stories to be work-shopped as well. 

Then I was done with classes, it about 5pm. I went to Jones to get dinner, I had planned on Panda Express..but oh my god I forgot how long the lines are the first few weeks..so I got pizza instead. XD And a packet of sugar cookies..because my schools sugar cookies are the BEST sugar cookies in the world..even better than Insomnia Cookies. XD

I didn’t do much else the rest of the day. Had trouble with internet connectivity..but that’s the universities fault. My Smoke Detector started doing that beeping thing they do when they need new batteries..I put in a work order, but it was after 6 so they wouldn’t come until the next day. But it did stop around 10, so that was good..but it started up again around 8am..I had attempted to make a very emotional post announcing something that happened 1 month ago today(August 30th 2017(so it happened on July 30th 2017)) to Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook, and Twitter..but Instagram refreshed and I lost the post..and couldn’t redo it..because it was too painful. I’ll post about it eventually..I promise.

Edit: I forgot to add that I met another suite mate on this Tuesday. I don’t remember exactly when. It was before my morning or my afternoon classes. I want to say in the morning, but I don’t remember exactly. The girl in the room next to mine. 

Wednesday August 30th 2017

The second day of classes. 

I got up around 9:20am this morning. However, I’d been awake since at least 8am..after getting no sleep..because of the beeping of my smoke detector. I got up, got dressed..and maintenance came around 10am. Replaced the battery, and that was that. 

Then I left for my only class of the day, my Historical Geology, Lecture. Normally on Wednesday, I’ll also have my lab, but labs don’t meet the first week. It was a pretty standard first lecture. It’s in a smaller classroom than my Physical Geology lecture was, which was in a lecture hall style classroom. I already love my professor, she’s the same professor I had for Physical Geology. We went over the syllabus, and the first two chapters..which was basically just review of Physical Geology. She told us about the textbook..gave us an opportunity to win a free Lab Manual..I lost..(it was a random drawing thing so..? I had a 1/60 chance(60 students))

After lecture I went to Alkek to print the readings for US Lit and Creative Writing tomorrow. I didn’t discover until night that it fucked up one of my readings for Creative Writing..by only printing half of it. Oh well. I just won’t have the physical copy. I grabbed pizza and cookies for lunch. Then I took a nap. For dinner I went back to Jones and got Panda Express. (As you’d likely have seen from my Instagram post) I couldn’t resist. I stood in the, less outrageous, but still long line to get fried rice w/ double mushroom chicken(pretty much all they had aside from orange chicken) and 2 spring rolls. And..I’ve been here ever since. I’ll probably shower before doing my readings for tomorrow. 

So, that was my first two days of classes. Don’t worry, I won’t post like this everyday. These were just the first days, and I like to document. If you are interested in my day to day life, follow me on Twitter, I tend to post there a LOT. I’m Kimicka13 over there. (As I am almost everywhere but here..though I do have Kimicka13 saved here, ;)) 

With that, I’ll leave you with a silly smiling paper human Kim Taeyeon. ;)