#I think I spent a lot of July just kind of mourning many months of these things being on standby because I was afraid of wasting a day

[guesswhosaninja]

do you ever hear the phrase "I was so scared of wasting a day that I nearly wasted my life" and have it haunt you for a month

there are so many times I've felt like I simply lost years, and you'll finally do something and realize you spent six months saying "I should do that soon" without doing anything or "I should get back to that" each day for months on end

[catxsnow]

MID-JULY J.T.

Summary: based off the song Mid-July by Craig Wilson. Jason visits a small town just to get away from his life in Gotham, he never expected to meet his summer love. 

Warning: fluff

A/N: This was my secret santa fic for @woahjaybird​ (I went a little overboard) I hope you all enjoy, I most certainly had a lot of fun writing it!

Word count: 7.9k

I’ve been looking for a summer love

A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason Todd was drained to the point that he couldn't get up in the morning without dreading the day. Day in and day out he continued to lose himself in ways that he swore he wouldn’t. He hadn’t felt like himself in months and it seemed that all hope was lost to every get back to his normal self – not that was a good version either.

It was Artemis that told him to take some time off from being the Red Hood. Visit some beach in the middle of nowhere and enjoy himself without the stress of saving the world. Take the time to mourn those he had lost. It took him months to be convinced to take a break. Truth was, he needed it.

Years of beating himself down, burning the match at both ends until there was nothing left. He couldn't keep running on fumes, everyone saw it. Tired eyes, sluggish movements, adrenaline being the only thing that kept him going in tough situations. It was dangerous for everyone - and it was when a civilian died did he finally realize that.

So, after breaking down in front of his friends, Jason agreed to take a break. Just a couple of weeks, just to get himself back to where he once was. He found himself planted on the beach where not a damn soul knew his name. He didn't want to admit that they were right, Jason was tough - he didn't need a mental break. At least, that's what he told himself. 

Even if he was on 'vacation' he couldn't stop thinking about the suit that was hidden in his closet. The presence of it didn't help him destress in the slightest. Every creak of the floorboards, the sound of voices outside his temporary home, everything had him on edge. It was the way that he was raised - letting go didn't come easily to him.

The place that he was staying in was nice. Some Airbnb that was way too cheap for the quality it was. A big bed, small kitchen, huge bathroom that seemed way nicer than the one in his own home. The beach was a walk away and parking was free. He couldn't complain, as badly as he wanted to find some excuse to go back home. 

The first day that Jason was in that small town on the coast, he spent it walking around, casing everything and everyone. A habit that Bruce instilled in him. The people gave him a few looks, but kind smiles nonetheless. Some people waved; others just ignored him. He didn't mind. 

The smell of a bakery enticed him. Fresh bread that reminded him of those cold winter mornings where Alfred would make him loaves upon loaves of bread. Jason watching him at the kitchen counter, working on whatever homework he had to do for school that he was behind in. He couldn't help but go buy a loaf from the sweet old lady. 

On the second and third day, Jason spent mostly in his room. He couldn't be bothered to try and relax when clouds covered the sky and it threatened to rain. Instead, he took the time to unpack the few clothes that he had brought with him. If Artemis was going to make him stay there for at least a few weeks then he may as well make it comfortable.

It was the fourth day that he admitted defeat and strolled out the beach right by his temporary home. White sand, blue seas that went on for miles - it was a gorgeous place - just not his scene. The warmth of the sand felt heavenly against his skin. It had been years since Jason truly felt warm like this - not since before the pit.

It was that day that he realized that maybe this idea wasn't so bad, maybe he really could find comfort in this nameless town where everyone seemed to know everyone. The warmth alone... he forgot what it was like. Jason was always cool to the touch, his fingers like ice against the skin of his friends and family.

His hands dug into the sand, absorbing every ounce of heat that he could get. 

As the sun went down that evening, and the heat of the sand dissipated, Jason packed up his items. The now-familiar smell of that oh-so-fresh bread filled him again. He hesitated - the first loaf had gone by so fast that a second sounded a little too perfect of a way to end his day.

Unlike before, the tiny shop wasn't empty. The older lady that smiled so kindly with him the last time was helping a girl who was no older than he was. Her voice wounded like silk to him and a bright smile that lit up the entire building. She held a box of pastries in her arm and chatted with the owner as if they knew each other forever.

The sound of Jason entering - or more so the bell above the door caught both their attention. The girl faltered for a moment, not recognizing him from their small town. Nonetheless, she gave him a wave before bidding the older lady goodbye. Jason opened the door for the girl, still taking in her beauty.

"I'm gonna guess you're not from around here," she paused in front of him. Jason nodded, confirming her prediction. She looked him up and down once before latching onto the vibrant color of his eyes. Her lips flipped into a smile only for a moment. "Try the apple turnovers, you'll never want to leave here afterward."

Before Jason could speak again, she was gone. For the first time since showing up in that small town, he wore a small smile on his face. A smile that he would have for the rest of his trip there, the one just for her. A smile that he didn't know could bring so much joy in his life in such a short period of time.

"I'll have the apple turnovers, please."

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason enjoyed the beach far more than he imagined he would. The sounds of the waves were louder than the ringing of gunshots in his head. The warmth that he craved lingering on him even in the late hours of the night. He didn't realize how one tiny place could bring him so much peace.

No one stared at the scars that laced him, no one questioned why he was there or where he came from. Everyone minded their own business - something he never got when he was in Gotham. Someone was always up his ass on what he was doing or chastising him for his choices. 

Jason frowned as a shadow covered him, completely blocking the rays of the sun from hitting his body. He already had evidence of tan lines along the hem of his shorts and around his sunglasses. The pale scars against his skin protruded even more. He sat up on his elbows and removed his sunglasses to see who was interrupting him.

To his surprise, it was the same girl that he had met at the bakery. Her hair was pinned back in a braid, showing off her beauty even more. Jason's breath caught in his throat upon seeing her again. Her whole being screamed welcoming - and he didn't get that feeling easily.

"I see you've stuck around a little longer yet," She spoke. Jason bobbed his head, unable to produce any words. There was something about this girl that had him flustered without even trying. Maybe it was the innocence in her eyes - the incorruptible smile she had. Jason didn't want her to step foot near Gotham and taint that heart of hers - and he didn't even know anything about her.

"Was it the baking or the beach?" She continued on, hoping to get a word out of him. He hadn't spoken their last encounter either. Jason had piqued her interest - not many people came to their little town and certainly none as attractive as him. There's was a mystery around him and she was dying to know what.

Jason grew up with the intention of not to trust anyone. Even before he met Bruce, Jason knew that he could only ever rely on himself. After being Robin, he really knew that to be true. Trust didn't come easily to him anymore, but this girl... he wanted to be able to trust her the moment he laid eyes on her. 

"The warmth," Jason finally coughed out. It was the first thing that came to mind. The pit had traumatized him - in all the expected ways of course - but never feeling warm or cold was something he never realized he could miss. The hot sand, the sun beating down on him, he really did make him want to stay.

"It's only June," she cocked an eyebrow. "Mid-July is when it gets really hot." Jason shrugged - how was he supposed to know? Either way, he wouldn't be sticking around long enough to see if she was right. His trip was already nearing its end. The short time did good on him - not that he would want to admit that to Artemis.

"I won't be around that long," Jason's voice cracked. His cough, once again, failed to cover it up; why was he acting this way? Smarten up, you can't even keep yourself composed to a girl? What's wrong with you, man? "Just taking some time off... work."

Work, if that's what you wanted to call dodging bullets and breaking bones. Jason shuddered at the idea of even thinking these thoughts around this girl. The nameless girl that he knew nothing about but felt entitled to trust. The girl that grinned down at him without knowing his story.

"Strange place to come vacation." Though the beaches were nice, not many people knew of her small town. It was the exact reason that Jason choose it. No one to know his name or his face. "Not much to do unless you've lived here your whole life."

"That's the point." His mind was always so busy that having nothing to do, nothing to keep him going... it was a hard adjustment but he already found himself sleeping more hours of the night. Jason hadn't known this girl in the slightest, so how come he felt like it was easier to talk to her than half the justice league?

"Well, if you're looking for something fun, there's mini-golf down the road," she pointed towards the general direction. "Though, you don't really look like the kind of guy that decides to mini-golf."

"Oh?" Jason chuckled. The sound surprised both of them - he never expected to spontaneously laugh at some little comment about his appearance. More so, she didn't expect someone as broad as him to have such a beautiful laugh. It caught her off guard.

This time, she fumbled over her words, "I mean maybe you are. Are you? Do you wanna go? Like right now? We can." Her eyes darted away from him, hands shoved in her pockets to keep them from fidgeting. Truth was, they never got men that looked as gorgeous as him coming by.

It was the 'we', that caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat, that same stupid smile making it's way onto his face again. Jason tipped his sunglasses back down on the bridge of his nose. The towel he was laying on was wrapped around his shoulders as he stood up. She looked taken aback by his height - forgetting from the last time that they met.

He stuck his hand out of her to shake, "If we're going to go play mini-golf together I think we're due for a proper introduction. I'm Jason."

The girl accepted his handshake after a moment of surprise. She wasn't sure if it was from the fact that he agreed to her pathetic attempt to ask him out or that she realized that they didn't even know each other's names. He was so approachable that she had had completely forgotten that they didn't know each other previously.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)."

It's the middle of July, and my phone's been dry I'm in my feels, it's cloudy outside Small town A bunch of hills around with all the girls in my location Nowadays its hard to find new ones to talk to I need a chick who wants to get away with me Spend the weekends on the beach and get lost in the city

Jason always liked driving through the countryside. When he was young, Bruce or Alfred would offer to take him for a relaxing drive when he was stressed about his school or even his life as Robin. It reminded him of the times he got lost in his own head when he was young, wishing for better places.

To finally get to see these so-called better places in real life was always a little too surreal for him. He spent his childhood thinking about the beauty of the oceans, the rolling of mountains, and the vast forestry that lurked outside the city limits. It always seemed a treat when he would get to go with Bruce.

He hadn't gone much after coming back from the Lazurus Pit. Driving with no purpose now only let him get lost in his thoughts - often scary places within. Jason didn't like to get pulled back to the horrid memories of what happened to him. Driving alone always led to some sort of panic and he couldn't bare it anymore.

Driving with her was different.

In Jason's next week in that small town, he got to know (Y/N). Her life, her story, everything that a complete stranger didn't need to know. He learned about the school that she went to and her life growing up there, and how desperate she was to get away to the big city. He grew to learn her likes and dislikes, the faces she made when she laughed or was upset.

He picked up on the way her nose scrunched when she didn't like something and her nervous finger cracking. The differences in her smile - when she forced one out and when she felt genuine. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Not when they parted ways for the day, not when he was trying to sleep at night, not until they met up again the next morning.

They had spent nearly every breathing moment together during his trip. Their mini-golf spontaneous adventure led to a dinner of greasy burgers and late-night milkshakes. She was surprised that he was so willing to stick around that night, even to the point that he was asking to see her again tomorrow.

So, they met again, just outside the bakery they first met. And the next day. And the day after that. On the morning of the second last day that he was supposed to leave, she showed up with a woven basket and a smile on her face. A picnic. Of all things that Jason thought he would be doing that day, a picnic wasn't one of them.

Driving along the countryside, windows down, Jason was happy. Their picnic basket sat in the backseat of his car, (Y/N)'s summer playlist blaring through the speakers. The wind blew through her hair, exposing every perfection in her face. Jason could barely keep his eyes on the road.

While Jason didn't like driving these empty roads alone anymore, he found joy with her. He didn't get flashbacks of the time he was beaten to death or his past as a kid. He remembered the good times with Bruce and Alfred, he had created of new memories with her. Those were the kinds of drives he could get used to.

"What?"

Jason didn't realize he had been staring at her. He laid on a blanket that she had brought, tall grass all around them. She leaned back on her hands, watching the waves below on the cliff that they were perched upon. (Y/N) looked down at him upon feeling his gaze. His admiration ran deep.

"What?" He repeated her question.

"You're staring," she grinned. In the past few days, (Y/N) had noticed him zone out a lot. Sometimes lost in his own mind, sometimes a deep concentration on her. She knew bits and pieces of the reason he was there, about his family and friends. He was still just as big of a mystery as when they first met.

"Hard not to," Jason flirted. He laid down on his back, arms tucked behind his head and staring up at the cloudy sky. She mocked his actions, laying exactly like him. Their elbows bumped into one another, legs brushing just enough to know that she was still right there. He didn't mean to flirt with her, it just came out of his mouth so naturally that he couldn't stop himself.

(Y/N) got quiet suddenly. Her laugh quickly diminished, the smile on her face turned to a frown. As much as fun as she had getting to know Jason these past few weeks - he was leaving. Leaving to what seemed halfway across the world and too far away to keep in contact. She had made a good friend in him - only to have it torn away.

It was her own doing, she knew that he was there for only a matter of days. Maybe it was the big heart inside her that wanted his vacation to be fun, or the reality of it was maybe she just liked him a little too much to let go after one confrontation.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, concern filling him. They had such a great afternoon - long drives, good food, laughs that filled the vast void that they had found themselves in. He couldn't have asked for anything more perfect - and he assumed that she felt the same.

"Nothing," she tried to brush off. Jason leaned on his side to face her. His head rested in his hand as he gazed at the pout on her lips. (Y/N) turned to face him. He matched her pout - being a little overdramatic about it and successfully getting her to smile. "It's just... you're leaving, and I had such a great time with you these past few weeks. I always dread come home from school, but you've made it fun.

"I know you were only come here for a short trip - and that you were trying to relax and I hijacked that from you - but I just wanted to say thanks for making these past few weeks great. I'm gonna miss you, Jay," (Y/N) confessed. Part of her felt bad for completely overtaking his vacation. He was there to be by himself, and she ruined that.

The truth was - she made it far better than he could ever imagine. For the first time in a long time, Jason wasn't weighed down by the heavy helmet that sat in his closet. Sure - he didn't get to sit on his ass and soak up the sun like his original intentions were - but his time was far better spent.

He was happy during his time there.

Maybe, maybe he was a little too happy. Seeing her frown, the way her voice cracked when she spoke of him leaving, it made broke his heart. He didn't want to see her upset, not because of him. Jason's mind ran with thoughts and before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"What if I stayed?"

"What?"

"What if I stayed? For the summer?" When Jason asked again, he was sure that he wanted to make that commitment. If his friends and family wanted him to take a break, then why not go all out? Why not take this chance for him to be happy, especially when it was handed to him on a silver platter like this.

"You're crazy," She rolled her eyes. Jason's face was set in stone - he was being serious about this. (Y/N) faced him properly, she was already upset about him leaving, having this joking around would only make it worse. "You... you wanna stay? But what about Gotham? Don't you have your work-"

"Gotham can live a while longer without me," Jason assured, cutting her off. "I haven't been this happy in a long time. Why not stay a little longer? Unless you don't want me to-"

"No!" She exclaimed. "No, no - I really, I really like the idea of you sticking around." Jason didn't realize that she could look cuter than she already was. He was wrong. Her flustered-unable-to-properly-function look had been far more adorable than he would have ever imagined.

"Do you now?" He teased, trying to get even more of a reaction out of her. (Y/N) buried her face in her hands to try and hide her embarrassment. Jason gently grabbed her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. Her eyes were still sealed shut, scared to see that he was just kidding about staying.

To her surprise, instead of some absurd excuse as to why he actually needed to go back home, that he couldn't stay with her, she felt the softness of lips on hers. He had been thinking about it all afternoon; how good she would feel against him, what the taste of her lips was like.

As quick as his kiss was, he was gone. Jason already felt like he was overstepping his boundaries, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable from his sudden choice. (Y/N) looked at him with shock across her face, she didn't know that he thought of her that way. Hell, she still didn't.

All she knew, was that the second his lips were gone, she craved them again. Jason was pushed back against the blanket by the force she had. His hands grabbed her hips, holding her steady as she kissed him again. Her lips were needy against his like she had been waiting for this moment since they had first met.

He could feel the heat radiating off of her. The same kind of warmth that he felt for the first time when he was surrounded by sand. The same warmth that reminded him of what his life was like when he was happy. Her warmth, everything about her reminded him of those times.

Jason felt droplets of water against his skin. The coolness of the rain felt like it would sizzle against the warmth of his skin. It didn't seem to bother her - not until the sparse drops turned heavy. The clouds above them had quickly turned dark, and rain poured from the sky. It soaked their clothes, the blanket they laid on.

(Y/N) pulled away from him, droplets falling down her face and onto him. A grin was plastered on her face. "We should go," she giggled. Jason nodded; the rain was making all his clothes stick to him in the worst kinds of way. He grabbed the basket while she bunched the blanket up into her arms. They were thrown into the trunk of his car but before she could run off into the passenger's seat and safe from the rain - Jason pulled her against him.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, not caring about the rain just the everlasting heat that she gave. Her hand latched against the back of his neck, kissing him until her lungs screamed for air. She pushed against his chest, edging him to the driver's side of the car.

"You're something else, Todd."

I've been looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You know you've played this song four times within the last hour, right?"

"Are you dissing my music choices? Because if you are, the door is right there, you're free to leave."

Jason was leaning against the headboard on his bed. A book was in his hands, reading lines that made his heart skip beats because they reminded him of the girl rest against his stomach. (Y/N) looked up at him, peeking below the book he was reading. Her music played in the speaker she had brought for him.

"I'm free to leave? This is my room!" Jason exclaimed. He set the book down beside him to give his proper attention to (Y/N). She intertwined his now free hand, resting them both against her stomach. Her head tilted up, lips pouted, and awaiting a kiss from him. Jason happily complied with her wishes. "May as well be your room with the amount of time you spend here."

"Fine, I'll take my playlist and find someone new that appreciates it," She threatened. Jason tightened his grip on her hand, keeping her on his bed. Of course, he knew that she was only joking, but even the thought of her leaving upset him. "Hmm, that's what I thought. Not so tough after all."

As big and intimidating that Jason looked, (Y/N) quickly learned that he was by far the biggest softie that she had ever met. His love for literature, cooking, and an appreciation towards art and creativity. He was nothing that he looked like on the outside. Every time she learned something about him it was shocking.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason rolled his eyes. His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her completely flush against his chest, his leg was thrown across her and no chance of getting out. He peppered her neck and face with kisses, squeezing her tighter as she let out a laugh at him.  "Didn't picture you to be such a sap," (Y/N) squirmed around in his arms until she was able to face him. Jason swooped down for another kiss before she could continue - which only proved her point even more. She pushed away the hairs from his face, lingering on the white streak that protruded through the black. "Leather jackets, big and burly, deep voice," she tried to mimic his own voice. 

"Let's keep that between us, I have an image to uphold." (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him - whatever image he once had was long gone the moment he met her. "Hey, don't roll your eyes at me." 

"Oh? What if I do it again?" She grinned. Jason narrowed his eyes. Over the time that he had been with her that summer, he quickly learned that she loved to test him. Pressing his buttons to get a reaction, doing the exact opposite that he asked off, she loved seeing him get all pouty and frustrated. "Gimme another kiss and I won't." 

Jason wasn't going to complain about that kind of deal. 

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You were right." 

"Geez, I don't hear you say that very often," (Y/N) chided. She laid on her back, the sun beating down on her skin with Jason doing the same beside her. The sound of children laughing and screaming overpowered the waves that beat against the shore. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, the perfect weather to be on the beach. 

Jason hadn't spent much time on the beach after meeting her. In fact, he barely spent any time apart from her. Consumed with each other in less than two months - he could never get enough of her. She quickly became his everything while being on his trip. 

The stress of being The Red Hood dwindled, Artemis' advice might have worked a little too well. Jason was so happy being away from his old life that the thought of having to go back, to leave her, kept him up at night. He didn't want to leave this somehow perfect 'white picket fence' life that he had made for himself in such a short time. 

The reality of his life remaining this way was slim. Something would come up or the truth would come out. He couldn't keep living like this, not forever. For now, he would appreciate the summer fling that truly was changing his life for the better. 

"It's far hotter mid-July," Jason revealed. He thought he felt warmth that first week of being there, now, he could get the residual sun rays to leave his skin even if he wanted to. Whether he felt them directly or radiating off (Y/N)'s body at night, he was always consumed with warmth. 

He'd miss it when he had to leave. 

"Hmm, that's not what I was hoping you'd admit, but I'll take it," she looked over at him. Jason leaned over to peck her lips. (Y/N) knew that was going to be the only confession that she got out of him that afternoon. Jason didn't like to admit that someone else was right - she learned that early on. 

"What were you hoping I'd admit?" Jason raised his eyebrows. There could have been a ton of answers coming out of her mouth. Why he was so secretive, why he tensed every time she went near his closet, why he was always so hesitant to talk about his job or his family. He was a mystery - and he hated that he had to keep it that way. 

They were both better off if he kept it that way. Two months of being together, and one until she had to go back to school, and he had to go back to Gotham. Whatever life-threatening secrets he had; he was going to keep them hidden from her. This trip was about finding an escape - and he had found it in her. 

(Y/N) shrugged before laying back down, sunglasses covering her eyes. Jason shuffled closer towards her; he grabbed her hand so he could intertwine their fingers. The roughness of his skin caught her attention once more. She didn't move until Jason kissed her again, this time properly and more than just a single peck. 

"Maybe it was that I wanted to admit that I love you?" Jason spoke. He had been thinking about it for days. A love that he had never experienced before. This wasn't a love that would last a lifetime - till death do him part. This was an innocent summer love that he wanted to take full advantage of. 

Jason couldn't see the look in her eyes, not with the sunglasses covering half her face. (Y/N) wasn't shocked - not in a cocky way. They had been spending all their time together, she had been just as invested in this summer love as he had. To be honest, she didn't expect him to say it first. 

(Y/N) stayed imperturbable for just a moment too long. Jason became nervous that his announcement had been far too soon - or if their relationship even called for it at all. It wasn't until the ear-to-ear smile that spread on her face that he knew that she felt the same. (Y/N) nearly leaped onto Jason, not caring about the families and couples that were around them. 

Her lips were on his, the smile never failing to leave her face.  Rushed lips, bumping noses, Jason grabbing at her hips like his lifeline. His cheeks were flushed pink when she pulled away from him, chest heaving at the lack of air. 

"I love you too, Jay," she confessed. "Sometimes. You're really a pain in the ass when you wanna be." 

Jason feigned a look of hurt. Without missing a beat, he stood up and hoisted her over her shoulder in one swift movement. (Y/N) squealed as he headed towards the water. She reeled her hand back and slapped it against his ass, hoping that he would drop her from the action. It didn't work - at all. 

As soon as he was deep enough in the frigid cold water, Jason dropped (Y/N). She was soaked from head to toe, teeth chattering from the cold. No matter how hot it was outside, the water was yet to warm up for the day. Jason barely felt the cold against his legs - or his whole body when she dragged him down with her. 

"I take it back!" She yelled. (Y/N) climbed against Jason's back, clinging to him in hopes to get most of her body out of the water. Her arms wrapped around his broad chest, legs squeezing around him. "You bitch." 

"Can't take it back babe, you already said it," Jason teased. He turned his cheek to the side, awaiting a kiss from her. Begrudgingly, she did. "I love you." 

Don't recommend me a phone application I'm to old school for online dating A friend's pressing me to download the app 'Cause there's some woman in my zone that down to get (aye)

Lost touch with all the girls in my city I'll probably never find someone I'm way too picky Back in June I had this fling I wasn't feeling Ever since I cut ties my iPhone's been dry

It seemed as Jason's trip felt more and more permeant, their deadline also became too surreal. It was weeks until (Y/N) would have to leave her hometown once more to go back to school. In return, Jason would have to return back to Gotham as the Red Hood. Time was ticking, but that wasn't going to stop them from making the best of their last few weeks together. 

There was something about the time that they spent together that made him forget about his life in Gotham. He forgot the pain that he had to endure. Forgot about the nightmares that woke him up. Forgot about the scars that were scattered across his body. Jason couldn't be more grateful. 

(Y/N) had helped him immensely, and she didn't even know it. She didn't know the real reason that he came to this town, or why he had chosen to stay for longer. It was because of her lack of knowledge that he was reminded of the good in the world. There was no motivator, no dire need to help a poor soul like him. 

She did it because she wanted to. (Y/N) dedicated her summer to him because she genuinely enjoyed his presence and wanted to get to know him - not because he was the son of Bruce Wayne or because he was The Red Hood. She knew Jason Todd, the real Jason Todd that very few people got to see. 

"Whatcha thinking about, hotshot?" 

Jason stood in his tiny kitchen. It wasn't much, but it sufficed for the time that he was staying there. His home - the house he was staying in - was only meant to be for a couple of weeks. With his time being extended, it proved to be problematic in mundane ways. His issues now were trying to get an open washer and the laundromat instead of dodging bullets. 

Was this what his life would have been like if Bruce never took him in? Unlikely. Jason was just a kid off the streets, he never would have made it there if Bruce hadn't taken him in. He wasn't sure if that kid on the streets would be proud of the person he was today. It didn't matter, there was nothing that could be done to change it. 

Jason was always going to be stuck in the life of the Red Hood. Nothing was going to change that. Nothing could change that. Not a person, not a wound, not even dying stopped him from being in this life. 

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her cheek rested against his tone back, fingers trailing on the curves of his muscles. Jason rested his hand over hers, a smile making its way to his face once more. 

"Well I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, but I guess now it's just breakfast," Jason sarcastically told her. He spun around to grab her hips and lift her onto the last empty counter space. As per usual, one of his shirts hung off her body. "Sleep well?" 

"With you? Always," she nodded. Jason didn't want to think about how bad his sleep was going to get upon his return home. He had been sleeping solidly through the night and going back to his usual nightmares and lack of hours pained him. For the first time in a long time, he felt filled with life again. "You didn't have to make me breakfast, you know?" 

"Of course I did," Jason scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. How could he not make breakfast for a beautiful girl sleeping in his bed, in his clothes? "What kind of Gentleman would I be if I didn't?" 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Gentleman. Jason laughed at her reaction, the sound echoing through the small room. She trailed her fingers along the curve of his biceps before planting her palm against his cheek. He quickly pecked her lips before returning to the stove. 

Jason intently focused on the pancakes in front of them, hoping to make a perfect flip. After his success, a small box was placed in front of him. (Y/N) had a grin on her face as she watched his confusion grow from the box in her hand. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. 

"Come on did you really think you could hide your birthday from me?" She explained. Jason nearly forgot his birthday every year. Age didn't seem to matter after everything he's been through. If it wasn't for Dick being so persistent on getting him a gift every year, he'd ignore it completely. 

(Y/N) gestured for him to grab the box from her. "You didn't have to get me anything," Jason gave her a look. He didn't want a gift; he didn't want to celebrate or anything of the sort. Reluctantly, he grabbed the small box from her hands and pulled the string to open it. Inside, a silver chain laid. 

It was simple and somewhat reminded him of the one his brother wore day-to-day. However, looking at it closer, he noticed a small chain was replaced with a solid link. The small initial of (Y/N)'s name was engraved on it. "I know what you're thinking, kind of narcissistic to get my letters engraved on it but... with us leaving in a couple of weeks I just wanted you to have something to remember this summer by." 

Jason felt his jaw tremble for a moment. He could hear the pain in her voice at the idea of them splitting ways. The meaning behind the gift that meant more than she would ever know. He set the gift on the counter and brought her into a bone-crushing hug. Jason didn't like celebrating his birthdays, but this was the best gift he could have received. 

His head was nuzzled into the crook of her neck, trying to hold back the emotions that ran through him. "I take it you like it?" She tried to joke. Jason nodded against her. He took a deep breath to calm himself before pulling away. His hands rested on her cheeks, admiring every bit of beauty. 

"I love you," Jason kissed her. His heart swelled with love. "This summer... I'll never forget it. I just, I just want you to know that this summer meant everything to me. I can't thank you enough for everything that you've done." 

"You don't need to thank me, Jay. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer love. You changed my life... You made me happy and that's all I wanted. I should be thanking you for deciding to come to this shitty little town. Maybe it was fate, maybe I just have ridiculously good luck. Either way, I'm glad I got to get to know you, Jason Todd." 

I'm still looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason couldn't stop the memories of last summer from flooding him. Every building he passed, every street he went through, all he could think about was her. Her smile, her laugh, the annoying way that she too adorable for her own good. He was consumed with the thought of her again. 

Although parting ways nearly ten months ago was hard, they both knew that by the end of the summer they would have to say goodbye. The love that they had was nothing but a summer love, and as much as neither of them were really ready to let go - it was for the best. Hearts weren't broken that day, they were filled with a reminder that even a summer love can prove that there's always someone out there. 

It hurt less that day than it did for Jason driving through. He had no intentions of coming back - not when he was sure that if they saw each other again, he wouldn't be able to leave again. It was a spontaneous choice that led him back there, one that he hoped he wouldn't regret. 

His friends and family asked him a countless amount of questions on why he was gone so long and what he had been doing. Jason held out, he couldn't care to tell his family of what he had done with his time. That was his privacy, and he intended to keep it that way. The last thing he needed was his brothers knowing that he stayed for a girl. 

A girl that changed him, made him happy. A girl that encouraged him to be his best self. Sure, they had noticed his change in attitude, his willingness to smile more often, to laugh louder. It was Dick that pestered him to no end to figure out what had happened to him. Hell, he didn't even know where his little brother was. 

Artemis was glad to see him happy again. She was the only one who didn't interfere with his personal life. The only one that was just happy to see him happy, without needing to know the why. He appreciated that. 

Jason stopped at the place that they had first met - the bakery. It was a different woman in there than usual, much younger but far crankier than the kind lady that made Jason feel welcome. He ordered two apple turnovers - just as (Y/N) had recommended him. 

He sat out on the bench just outside the bakery. A reminder of the hours that they could spend there, stuffing their faces with donuts and laughing at everything imaginable. The heat of the mid-July sun beat down on him, filling him with the warmth he hadn't felt since he left there. 

Why was he so nervous to go see her? (Y/N)'s home was less than a mile's walk away and yet Jason couldn't bring himself to move his legs towards her. It was as if he was meeting her for the first time again and fuck was he nervous. 

Subconsciously, Jason grabbed the chain she had bought him. He spun it back and forth against his neck, remembering back to the day that she had given it to him... and the day that they had said goodbye. He never took it off after that day - not for anything. It always remained tucked under his shirt as a constant reminder. 

Jason sighed. His elbows rested on his legs and he looked down to the ground. God did he miss her. He knew that he shouldn't, that they had a love with a deadline. He knew that from the start, he told himself that he wouldn't get hurt by it - and he wasn't. Leaving the town wasn't the issue, being back in Gotham wasn't either. 

It was coming back. A mistake that he chose to make. 

"I know that white streak anywhere," a familiar voice spoke. They blocked the sun from shining down on him. Jason looked up, a smile on his face at the woman in front of him. "Jason, it's so good to see you." 

Jason couldn't tell whether he was happy or disappointed that the woman in front of him wasn't (Y/N). The kind lady from the bakery stood in front of him. She looked weaker than the last he has seen her - which may have explained the reasoning for her lack of work. He slid over on the bench and offered her a spot next to him. 

She waved her hand, "I can't be staying, but thank you," she told him. "I assume you're back here to see (Y/N)?" 

Jason let out a breath - it didn't seem real being back there until he heard her name again. "Yes, Ma'am." 

"I'm sorry, dear," She spoke. "(Y/N) didn't come back this summer. She stayed at school." Jason felt his breath catch in his throat. School, further away from Gotham than her hometown was. He should have known that she would - she talked about it all summer. Wanting to stay in the city, find work, make a life for herself. 

Jason knew that. He knew that she wouldn't be back there. Yet, he had come anyway hoping to see her again. His heart cracked. This was for the best. (Y/N) (L/N) was a summer love. No communication, no texts or calls since he left. That was the deal. It was easier for both of them that way. 

"It's good to see you again, Jason. You've grown up even more since last year," The lady from the bakery gave him one last smile before entering the shop. She paused at the door, looking back at him. "Summer loves don't always have to end in the fall, not if you don't want it to end." 

No, they didn't have to end. They could go on for years and years - no longer a summer love but a true love. But at what cost? Jason's life was disastrous. He had told himself from the start that he didn't want her brought into it, even if it meant giving up his slice of happiness. He couldn't break that promise. 

Summer loves didn't have to end, but in his life, he had no other choice. 

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

[dianapana]

SH Day 12- ANBU Black Ops

@sasuhinamonth

たえる Part 2 (taeru=to endure)

Part 1

Rated M, Ninja Universe that underwent some changes (you’ll see that I use major events in the canon world but there is a lot of history that’s altered), OOC (major OOC for Hinata especially)

Warning: self-harm, mental health, sexual harassment, trauma

Hello, dears, I play quite a bit with chronology in this chapter, I hope it's all easy to understand. I made moth things be during summer so around the time of the girl SH month which is why in all the cases you'll see Sasuke is 1year older than Hina, since his bday is in July and hers in December. I hope you enjoy, ~Love Dia

Sasuke, age 23

I think it’s fair for me to say that I’ve been through a lot, not many things shake me anymore and all the things that have made me worried in the past years have had something in common, they were all somehow related to Hinata. I remember when I woke up after the war, I was chained to a hospital bed, placed under a jutsu that blocked my chakra, I was missing a limb and I was on the verge of insanity once more. The only thing that calmed me down was her image. Even without my chakra I searched for hers. She too was in the hospital; I found her signature light purple chakra but it was so faint and small I almost missed it. Seeing her like that made me crazy with worry, once everyone left my room, I broke all the chains and dragged myself to her room despite the pain. I hadn’t thought of her as fragile since our reunion when she was 15. I could barely stand to see her that way, and even if I wanted to stay and watch over her for longer, I could feel Naruto’s chakra getting closer, which meant I had to leave. For the following weeks I could only go and see her late at night, for there was always someone in her room, Naruto, her father, her sister, some sort of nurse or medic. I recovered under a month, yet I stayed until she woke up.

I was the only one in the room when her eyes opened, she looked confused and for a moment I was sure she had amnesia and would not remember me, us. But for the briefest moment her eyes rested upon my figure and recognition was there, relief was there, gratitude, affection and many other nuances that I can never seem to read or fully comprehend reflected in her eyes. I took her hand and kissed the back of it, allowing myself a small selfish gesture before leaving the room to inform the medics she woke up. Sakura gave me a strange, questioning look when I told her Hinata had woken up, but I didn’t care about subtlety at that second, I just wanted them to check her for any issues, I wanted her to be physically fine.

She didn’t have many memories of the war when she was first questioned, but they came back in waves and waves. I could tell that the questions overwhelmed her, much like the people that littered around, there were over 10 visitors in her tiny hospital room, from her father to Naruto, Kiba and many others. I just watched the whole situation from outside her window. I noticed her looking around, searching for someone that wasn’t there. No, it wasn’t me, she knew I wouldn’t be there when other people were, I knew exactly who she was searching for, that’s why I wanted to be close by. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, I knew things would take a turn for the worse soon enough. I saw it, the exact moment the fog raised off of her memories, the moment in which reality hit her, the moment in which the remaining light in her eyes died.

She asked for Neji, Naruto cringed, her father was the one to inform her of his passing. She asked when the funeral was going to be and silence fell onto the room. Sakura tried to slowly explain that the war ended two months ago and all the dead were already long buried. Hinata cried, she cried for her fallen cousin, she cried for missing his funeral, she cried for herself. They all gave her hugs and condolences, they reassured her that none of that was her fault. They all expected her to mourn and soon enough bounce back to the façade she always kept around the people in the village. They were unaware of the emotional depth her sadness could reach. I knew their expectations would never be met, I could tell that the headspace she was in was similar to the night I found her on the forest floor, she had the same look in her eyes as when she constantly begged me to let her die. Knowing all of that, I expected her to make certain choices, yet, despite knowing what was to come, I was unable to help, there wasn’t a single moment in which she was alone for a week to come. And when it all happened, I panicked at the notion of her death and responded wrongly to her actions.

I wasn’t watching her when she attempted to kill herself, I was with Tsunade who kept insisting that I accept their fake arm. I was in the midst of refusing once more, when I could feel a commotion in her room, I left without a word and ran there. The image that was in front of me wasn’t surprising but it was just as heart-breaking. Hinata’s bed was covered in blood, her left wrist was being treated by Sakura but you could still see the long and slim-cut along her wrist, Naruto was holding her other arm trying to put pressure on her wrist to stop the bleeding. It scared me, the amount of blood on herself and the bed, her light-headedness and indifference indicated that she had been bleeding for a long time. She waited for a moment in which I wasn’t there either, she wanted to escape me too. Had Naruto and Sakura been late they might have found her corpse instead. I left the room to calm myself down, I couldn’t cause a commotion. I tried my best to come up with kind and comforting words to tell her later when I would return to her room, but when I did, the image that greeted me, her arms strapped to the bed, made me lose my composure. I screamed at her, I can’t even recall what I said but I know it was very inappropriate, she laughed, she cried. Trying to comfort her with only one arm was difficult, that was the very first moment when I even considered accepting Tsunade’s offer, but in the end I didn’t. I spent every night that followed with her, after the initial shock I was able to recall the words I meant to give her, I knew they weren’t going to miraculously fix everything but I felt that she needed them nonetheless.

She apologized for considering that path and acting on her thoughts. I undid her chains and pulled her to my lap as she talked. “The moment my eyes moved past Naruto’s shoulders and I saw you in the door frame I regretted my choice, I wished I could undo it if only to never have to see that look on your face” I placed my face into her hair and just breathed her in. “I think I understand a little better now��what you felt when Itachi died, when you found out the truth. Our situations aren’t the same but I remember how…” she stopped, searching for the perfect word.

“Crazy? Unhinged? Mad?” I provided, but she frowned and shook her head.

“No, no, none of those…how anguished, sorrowful, wretched you were at the time. You come to me in a very agitated state, I was scared and concerned but couldn’t grasp that feeling. Now I do” If I’m honest I don’t remember how felt at the time, I don’t remember many things about that period of my life, all I know is that I wanted to give up, I thought I had made only wrong choices in my life, but I saw her and I remembered that even I could save someone.

After a few more nights she assured me that she was now mentally stable, her sadness was still very much present, but she had not had any self-harming thoughts. The decision to leave the village was very difficult at the time, but Hinata assured me that she enjoyed our routine and wished to continue it. I left but our correspondence was much more frequent than before the war, I would write her every other day and she’d reply as soon as my messages reached her. It took a bit over 3 months for her to resume her work as an ANBU, and a bit over 8 months in total to convince Kakashi to promote her to ANBU Black Ops. Her missions became more difficult and longer, she even had a mission in Amegakure that lasted half a year. When she first sent me the message informing me of the location of her mission it reminded me of our first encounter after I left the village. Our encounter that summer isn’t a memory I think of fondly, I was cruel, I was insane, I abused my knowledge of her trauma. Whenever I remember my actions, I want to go back and rewind the time, I want to apologize to 15-year-old Hinata, she was meek and fragile and I broke a part of her. She was doing her best to survive and to keep going and I was a huge obstacle in her recovery. When my feelings for her started changing I was always self-conscious whether they were genuine or not, wasn’t I using her? Wasn’t I just feeling guilty?

Hinata, age 15

I am nervous as I pack my bag for this mission, it is my first solo mission ever. 6 months after I became a Jonin and Tsunade finally trusts me enough to allow me to go alone in a mission. The destination is Amegakure and the mission is supposed to last for about to 3 weeks. The difficulty level of the mission is only B which I’d be pretty annoyed at, but the distance factor and the solo factor make up for it so, I am equally nervous and excited. When I told Neji about the mission he was concerned but didn’t show it much for my sake. Instead, he congratulated me and we had a small picnic in the outer skirt of the Hyuuga estate as celebration.

Now I am looking through my dresser for appropriate clothes for the rain to pack, I have to look for another set of kunais just in case and prepare myself a couple of bentos to have on hand. Slowly, the closer the night before my departure gets the less anxious I am, excitement seems to be the winning sentiment.

The morning of, I wake up at 4:30 a.m. and am unable to sleep longer. By the time I am fully dressed and ready to go it’s only 5:00 a.m. and the sun is barely raising, but I decide that it is light enough outside for me to leave. As always whenever I pass through the forest there’s a chill going through my veins and my enthusiasm is a bit dampened, I actively try and avoid that specific place even if it means it will add to the journey time. On the schedule, Tsunade gave me I’m meant to spend 8 days on the road to the village, approximately 4 or 5 days into the village and 8 more days back.

The mission itself isn’t supposed to be that difficult all I need to do is meet with different people in the village give them the scrolls Tsunade gave me and wait for their replies. All in all, there should be no fighting, I’m mostly a messenger but the large amount of people that need contacting made it impossible for a summon raven to deliver the scrolls. My adrenaline rush of being on my own, experiencing what freedom feels like made me speed up during the journey, I took less stops and didn’t even spend the night in one of the Inns I was supposed to. Thus, not only did I depart earlier than planned but I arrived into the village almost a day and a half ahead of the schedule. Since it’s still barely past noon I decide to start the mission a day early and I am able to cover a fifth of the task on the first day.

People usually when talking about Amegakure call it gloomy and depressing, but I enjoy walking around in the rain, the temperature isn’t too high despite it being the middle of a heatwave everywhere else, the smell and sounds of rain also add to its charm. The Inn I’m supposed to stay at for the duration of my mission is on the outside of the village, it is away from the noise of the centre, but not far out enough to say it isn’t part of the village at all. Walking into my room I sit down and finally grasp that I am days away from Konoha, I am alone. The realization makes me emotional; I hadn’t realized how much I needed to be on my own, how good it would feel to put distance between me and everything that Konoha entailed.

Sitting alone in the dark, only with the occasional lightning brightening up my room, I make a decision, I promise myself to only ever come on solo missions. I’ve endured years of discomfort so I deserved to feel this way, if only during missions. I take a shower and go to bed, I’m not as physically tired as I thought I would be after the journey and that worries me. I don’t want the nightmare to come and ruin my mood, but I close my eyes nonetheless.

It feels like barely a second passed when I open my eyes and see the cool light coming from outside. The sun is hidden behind the clouds of rain, but its light still pushes through to an extent. I had no dreams, no nightmares. I rested well and I feel better than I did in many years. I walk barefoot onto the cold wooden floor and I open the window, not caring that the rain is getting both me and the floor wet. I close my eyes and feel immensely liberated, the heavy chains that dragged me down at all times disappeared. Nobody here knows me and I don’t know them, I am but a face in the crowd, this anonymity offers me the independence I never knew before.

I complete the mission in under 3 days. I feel faster, stronger, happier here. It feels like I can do anything and everything. I have about 3 days I can waste in the village, under normal circumstances I’d return immediately to Konoha to get another mission and the cycle would repeat. But I decide to stay here for a while longer, I want to enjoy this feeling to the best of my ability. The day right after completing the mission I simply stay inside and sleep almost the whole day. I’m recharging my batteries which have been on low for 3 years now. I forgot what being well-rested felt like.

The following day I decide to wander around some more. The mission had me walk all over the village’s centre so, I decide to check out its outskirt more. I go and eat delicious food at a small booth owned by an older couple. Due to its relatively small scale Amegakure’s buildings are much much higher than those from Konoha so I climb on top of one that I deem to be among the highest and sit there, in the rain just watching the busy streets, looking over all the sky-high buildings and enjoying the feeling of being unrestrained by people’s gazes and expectations. For the smallest second, I feel someone’s gaze on me but I discard it as being the locals looking at the strange outsider that’s standing in the rain. I refuse to let my mood be dampened, not when I am just as high as this building is.

I return to the Inn and decide to take a shower, tomorrow is going to be my last day here and I feel like time is moving far too fast. I’m rinsing my hair when I get the same feeling as before, like someone is watching me. Before I can dismiss it again, I hear steps behind me, my mind goes blank. I’m suddenly turned around by a powerful hand, before closing my eyes I see a pair of black dead, unfeeling, cold, cruel, scary, scary, scary, scary eyes. I close my eyes and clench my jaw; I can feel tears trailing down my face. I’m hyperventilating, I can’t move, I’m weak, I’m small. I whimper when I feel his hand touching the scar right above my pelvis. The touch transports me back to when I’m 12 and on the ground, my legs no longer support me, the only reason why I’m still standing is because the man is holding my arm in an iron grip. The moment passes and his hand is gone allowing me to fall to my knees and then onto my butt. I have no idea how long I stay there in a trance. When I’m finally able to regain strength in my limbs to feel and make small movements I notice the shower water is freezing cold despite it being set to warm. I turn it off and walk into the room, there’s no trace of the man anymore, he didn’t do anything beyond touching my arm and my scar. Maybe he was simply created by my brain, yea no one was here, how could they be, why would they be.

I can feel myself slipping into hysteria as laughter bubbles up into my throat. I look around the room again searching for proof again and I sigh in relief when I find none. I’m finally calm enough to get dressed but I make the mistake of looking in the mirror. There’s a handprint on my arm where he gripped me. The print is red and turning a weird purple colour in places and yellow in others. He was here. He was real. I take small breaths in order to calm myself, I am fine, I am here, I can’t even picture the face of the man that was here, I try to force myself to forget the handprint, it was just a dream, another nightmare.

I pack my things and leave that very night despite being tired physically, mentally and emotionally. I don’t want to return to Konoha, and I can’t stay here, I don’t know where to go. The freedom I felt before gave me an amazing sense of accomplishment, but now it is a source of unease. I feel lost and like I do not belong anywhere. I feel insignificant. I feel lonely. I close my eyes and just sit on the floor outside of the village, waiting for something or someone to come get me. But nothing happens and the weather is turning cold despite the summer so I pick myself up and start walking wherever the road will take me.

I don’t remember the journey back home, I can’t even tell in how many days I completed it, I didn’t stop at all, I just ran. I ran from the man, the past, I ran from my weak self. I thought myself to be strong now that I am a Jonin, but I froze and was unable to do anything all the same. I need to be more than I am, I need to be stronger, braver, untouchable, more perceptive.

I hate myself for hesitating to enter the Konoha, I hate myself for hesitating to take on a new mission when Tsunade offers it. I hate myself when I have to walk through the halls of the Hyuuga compound, I hate myself when I hide from Neji. I hate myself when I walk into my room and burst into tears. I hate myself for getting my hope that high in Ame only to have them all crash and burn. I hate that I feel more broken today than I did 3 weeks ago.

Sasuke, age 16

I’ve been in a weird mood since a week ago when I saw Hyuuga in the Village Hidden in Rain. I hadn’t heard or seen anything related to Konoha since I left during the Chunnin exam. She was my first contact with it. Hinata Hyuuga, I remember her name clearly, she holds a special meaning to me, she is a life I saved. I saved her back before I was caught up in any business with Orochimaru, when I still thought following Kakashi was the right path to take, back when I was stupid and naïve. I hadn’t thought of her since that moment, but when my eyes fell onto her, I felt proud that she survived, but I also felt the need, the urge to utterly crush her beneath my feet. Her life belongs to me; I saved her so, I have every right to destroy her.

I could tell she was uncomfortable with me there, I felt her flinch as I traced the scar above her pelvis, I heard her whimper when I turned around, and I saw from the corner of my eye, as her legs have in and she fell to the floor. She looked small and pathetic and I felt strong in comparison.

However, now, days later I feel…guilt. I feel as if I used something against her that I shouldn’t have. At the time her image was blurry and not something I paid attention to, but I can clearly see it now whenever I close my eyes. He white skin had almost no imperfections besides the three scars, her eyes were shut tight, her face was red and wet, at the time I gloated at the thought that the water droplets were tears, now I’m hoping they were from the shower. Her long dark hair was wet and clinging to her body. She did her best to hide from me with her hands, with her position slightly bent. She was helpless, she didn’t even try to stop me, she didn’t scream or fight back, she froze in place and allowed me to do whatever I wanted. At the time that too made me feel powerful, I deluded myself into thinking that my presence as Sasuke Uchiha made her cower in fear. Now that I am analysing things once more, I realize it was her trauma that rendered her powerless, it was my presence that caused her fear, but she wasn’t scared of me, Sasuke, but rather of me, a male; she didn’t see me as an individual but as the image of the man that hurt her in the past.

Realizing that in her mind I was equal to that disgusting piece of trash makes me livid. I clench my jaw, pick up the first thing I see, a jar of whatever substance from one of Orochimaru’s labs and I throw it to the wall. The green liquid escapes its container and slowly eats away at the wall and ground, the sizzling noise and putrid smell don’t even bother me. I’m angry at her, I want to find her and scream in her face that I’m not that man. I wanna shake her until she understands. I am mad at her, at myself. Kabuto comes in and curses, he drags me out and talks under his breath, his presence adds to my anger.

“What do you want?” I ask him, I’m looking down at him. I grew taller these past few weeks, taller than him. I want him to pick a fight, I want a reason to smash his face in. The image of his bloody face as he lays unconscious on the ground would bring me the satisfaction I need. He looks mockingly at me, that’s enough to start a fight.

Less than 20 minutes later the fight is over, he’s not unconscious, he’s still standing, more precisely, walking away. But he is bleeding and so am I. The fight didn’t help. I still feel angry, but my anger is slowly being overshadowed by guilt.

The sudden urge to find her and apologize overcomes me, but I dismiss it. She’s long gone…I checked. The two of us won’t meet anytime soon and even if we do, I’ll never apologize, not to her, not to someone that…weak…

Hinata age 22

After sleeping in until 11 after all, I wake up to Sasuke’s face next to mine, I feel at ease, I feel happy. I cup his face and place a kiss over his closed eyelids. I feel his change in breath when he wakes up but his eyes remain closed. His arm comes around my waist and pulls me closer to him, slowly he opens his eyes and offers me a lazy smirk. For a while I forget that we’re in Konoha, I forget everything about people trying to control me. All my worries just disappear with his presence.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks and brushes my bangs out of my eyes. ‘You’ I want to say, but I decide to be selfish instead. I sit up and he does too, I move towards him and place myself on his lap, we are chest to chest, face-to-face. “I am unsure how long they’ll make me stay here. This... sensei job…they could stretch it for months, who knows.” I hate that that’s true, I hate that they’re trying to cage me into the village. “it’s difficult being here for an indefinite period of time, especially since I don’t have out missions to look forward to. So…” I stop talking, rethinking what I’m about to ask, wondering if it’s worth it, but he looks at me with no judgement, he’s waiting patiently. “So…I was thinking. Maybe being here in Konoha would be better…if you were here as well” Part of me initially regrets the words and wants to take them back.

“You want me to stay here until you can go back to your normal missions” he didn’t formulate it as a question so I didn’t reply, mostly because I didn’t trust myself not to say no, to act like it was a joke, so I stay silent. “Ok, I will” his hand is on my wrist and it’s slowly moving up under my tank top. “You should already know that anything you ask of me, I’ll do Hinata” I do know that, but this was something that I had been afraid to ask for a while. Would staying in Konoha be better with him here? It must be.

We talk some more about his stay in Konoha and then proceed to eat a late breakfast. “I passed by the cottage outside of Amegakure on my way to Konoha” that cottage will forever represent my safe space, all my memories in it are out-of-this-world happy. The cottage itself is pretty much outside every territory of every village, it belongs to nobody, yet that’s the place I feel I belong in. I stayed there for my thirst or fourth mission as an ANBU, as usual Sasuke met up with me and we live together there for months. Sasuke and I worked together for most of my missions, we completed them faster than it was estimated they would take and we spent the remaining of the time just being together outside of all the rules of everyone. That was the place in which after much deliberation and inner-fights I decided to put my trust in him. By then we had already expressed our feelings verbally and with actions such as kisses and hugs, but I wanted to move past that because I craved that closeness with someone, I wanted a stronger bond between us, but also out of spite, I wanted to prove that I was able to enjoy sex. I wanted to prove that what had happened no longer affected me. Out first time was a bit awkward, we were both virgins, Sasuke was overly conscious of making me feel comfortable and I just wanted it to be done with so our desired speed didn’t match, but it happened and it was fine. The second and third time around it was much better and now we reached a point in which intimacy with him doesn’t scare me in the least, I love it and it makes me feel amazing. I am aware that I’m not fully over the incident, the close proximity of strange men that I don’t know still bothers me at times, however, I am much stronger and able to protect myself, I am just...wary.

I end my train of thoughts by going back to the memory of our first time and it makes me giggle a little. Sasuke asks me with his eyes what I’m laughing about and my reply is only a smirk, I see the wheels spinning in his brain and the connections being made. I love that after so many years we’re able to just understand each other in this manner. He gets up from his chair and walks around the table to place his hand on the nape of my neck. “I can show you how much I’ve improved since than” he whispers and bends down to kiss me. I smile against his lips and loop my arms around his neck allowing him to pick me up.

I must have fallen asleep again because I am woken up this time by Naruto loudly knocking on my door. He left me alone yesterday because Sasuke was around but I guess even his long-lost best friend can’t keep his attention off of me for more than 24 hours. I look next to me and my heart hurts because Sasuke isn’t there. I tell myself it’s because he felt Naruto so he left, but I still don’t like that.

Naruto keep knocking on the door and I’m sure he’s about to tear it down if I don’t open it soon so I walk to it in my pjs with my hair a mess. When I open the door, he stops in his tracks. “Oh…” his eyes linger onto the scar on my shoulder, he has an obsession with it I’ve noticed. Does he believe that’s my biggest scar…if only he knew. “I didn’t know you were sleeping, I’m sorry”

“After yesterday’s mission the kids have the day off so I wanted to rest” I don’t assure him that it is ok even though I know that’s the polite thing to do. I am bitter and annoyed that Sasuke isn’t there. For a split moment when I woke up, I thought I had imagined his presence.

“I just wanted to bring these to you.” He says and presents me with a pile of papers. “I know you were given them before when Kakashi assigned you as their sensei” hah, like it was Kakashi’s idea. Hokage-sama wouldn’t have pushed me into being a sensei from a Black Ops and we all know that. I know Naruto pulled all of the strings to get me here, however, Kakashi-san is also to blame for allowing all of this to happen “but I think you should really read them well, you said you have a free day today. I can stay here with you and read them together”

I look at him and his easy-going smile. On normal days I’d try and be nice, but all I want to do today is spend my time in peace. “I heard Uchiha-san is back. Are you sure you want to spend the day with me reading about some kids rather than catch up with him?” I feel sorry for guiding Naruto towards Sasuke, but I know Sasuke and if he’s one thing, he’s good at not being found.

Upon hearing Sasuke’s name Naruto’s smile brightened to the extent that it actually hurt my eyes. “I already saw and talked to him today” He left before Naruto came here, was it before we ate? After? When did they meet? “We talked and agreed to go on a mission together this week” He’s leaving after I asked him to stay “We went to Kakashi and already got all the info, so I’ll spend a lot of time together with him and find out all about what he’s been up to in these years and I ---” Naruto keeps talking but I feel suffocated.

[mildly-incoherent-ramblings]

Honey Sticks (Straws? Tubes? What Do You Call Them?)

A distant friend's friend was making care packages for trans people and asked folks on Instagram if they wanted them, so I asked for one. This has been a hard season on me and I thought hey, what the hell, worst case scenario I don't get one and its whatever. Right?

This was months ago, and I forgot almost immediately after doing so. It came today. 

There were lots of things included that made me happy, little gestures of sweetness. Two tea bags, one for sleep and one for relaxation, which I had not had much of either and needed. A sticker of a cute little spider, of whom I have complicated feelings for and have grown to love, though from a distance. Some candies, a lemon-honey cough drop, a very nice card, a note and a patch with an anarchy symbol framed in a heart that I bet will probably fade in 3 or so washes but I will wear anyways. It is after all, the thought that counts. But the gesture that warmed my soul and brought me great joy, was the honey stick. 

I didn’t process the significance at first. There were so many of these little items at once and I was just overwhelmed overall by this small expression of kindness. I thanked the person, followed them, thanked the person who had told them I wanted one and made sure I was following them, and set these things aside for a little while to tend to other things. 

I had a stressful situation involving a kitchen mess that triggered me a little and had just sat down after addressing said stressful situation when my eyes fixed on the little honey stick along with the candy I had been given. I ate the mango hi-chew first and briefly was paranoid it would fill the cavities in my teeth and have me regretting it. 

Then I went for the honey stick. I held it in my hands, rolled it gently between my fingers. I watched the honey move through the tube as I squeezed it in different places and the nostalgia started to set in. I remember long drives to the bay as a child with my grandparents and stopping at this little roadside farm that had produce and preserves and flowers and always, little straws filled with honey and sealed off, what I called as a child and refer to now as honey sticks. 

The texture was familiar, cool plastic between my fingers. I popped the seal gently with my teeth and pushed about half the tube onto my tongue. As soon as it hit my taste buds, I was transported to this place. To where my grandfather was still alive, in my mind, during a time where he and my grandmother were still at least as far as I knew, quite happy. The sweetness and the floral and the acidic and the smooth texture floated in my salivating mouth, as tears welled up in my eyes. I felt it coat the back of my teeth, savored it, before swallowing and squeezing from the tube the rest of its contents. I did not waste a single drop of this wonderful gift. I sat with the sadness and the nostalgia and the longing for some time. And then my eyes fixated on the pamphlet from his memorial service hanging in the corner. I miss the man, for all the problems he came with and all the unanswered questions and unresolved hurt I had felt. Missed that time where I had the privilege of being a child, before I was old enough to understand that though my loved ones loved me indeed, their love would only extend as far as their own perspective’s limitations reached.

The last two times I saw my grandpa sit in my stomach like bricks in a burlap sack. The second to last time, he was moving out of state with his good friend, and the last words he chose to say to me were “I love you, Granddaughter.” I had been out as transmasculine to my family for several years, and he was one of the only members of my family who flat out refused to support my decisions. I told my grandma about how I felt about this several months later, at the time worried this may be the last time I ever saw him. I felt like he did not want to see my transition, and did not want to see the man I would become. As much as I love my grandma, she doesn’t keep a secret worth a shit, so of course she went behind my back and told him everything. She always does. 

The very last time we saw each other, he tried to discuss this event and how it impacted him. By this time I was fully growing into my masculine body, had little pubescent hairs shading my upper lip and a deepened voice. He still adamantly misgendered me, refused to even look at me, the entire time. He simply could not see me. He asked me why I would do this to my family. He asked me why I would make them all suffer seeing me like this, as if my choice to live authentically was harmful to everyone around me. He was also under the distinct impression that our loved ones regarded my choices with the same level of disgust he had. He expressed revulsion and shame for my choices, and wanted to agree to disagree, under the impression still that he could just see me as a woman and ignore all the changes I had made and the life I was living, and how much even the other skeptical members of my family had adjusted since. He did not want another grandson, especially one who was a fag. That car ride brought a lot of tension, and the entire time we spent after with my grandma when we met her for lunch, was plated on a bed of unspoken mutual contempt for one another. He salted an already deep and still fresh wound, and it festered over. It still has not quite healed. 

Ironically, it would be revealed not too long after, that my brother had discovered that grandpa himself was in fact very much a gay man. While he was assisting him with formatting his cell phone, my brother would accidentally stumble on a still open incognito tab with some... very gay content still open. Along with that, a string of messages with his “good friend,” who had apparently been his lover the entire time. My brother responded with compulsory homophobic remarks that I will not repeat, but mostly just frustration that he had been dishonest with my grandma all these years. The discomfort that situation has inspired in me still hasn’t properly been unpacked. Everyone was wrong in that situation. Everyone.

Go figure. He and his good friend, “they were roommates.” 

When he passed, my father came and told me in person. I finally spoke of what had happened between us, and even he was angered by the hypocrisy, saying he had known for years that my grandfather was not straight. I know now that how he treated me was what he did for himself to avoid suspicion. Because if I had the audacity to be out, that meant there was little left for an excuse for him to hide. I threatened his cover. I threatened his disguise. I cracked his mask. I left his closet open ajar and he peered outside, horrified at the possibilities he saw.

Acknowledging all this, even still, I could not help but enjoy this moment of being brought back to this familiar childhood memory, before all of that would happen. This person who sent me this great gift could not have known the significance, but rest assured, I am quite grateful. I enjoyed this moment and then it was gone, and then it was back to reality in front of my computer, staring at the wall. The knowledge that that same man who loved me dearly was also undeniably cruel to me burned my skin and flooded my eyes. Hidden beneath that hurt and sadness, I felt remorse for him, because he never did feel safe speaking his truth to us, not even to the others in our family who related to him. I often think of his lover, and how painful it must have been for this man to mourn him publicly as a good friend, and privately as an intimate partner of whom adored him and cared for him in ways they could not ever feel safe speaking of.

Sitting with this conflict of nostalgia and longing for the safety of my adolescent ignorance, with the truth and the reality as I have come to know it, I let my own mask fall, and cried for the first time in months since he had died. It is possible to both love a person who was once good to you and also acknowledge when their actions created harm, and to hold them accountable. I do not believe it to be disrespect to the dead to also speak of their faults as well as their glory. Joy and sadness and frustration and unanswered questions looked down on me, crowded around me, mocked me.

My hands shake as I type and I am overwhelmed with the juxtaposition of these strong emotions.

Written some time in mid July.

RIP August 19th, 2020

[alphcevie]

—  is that EVELYN ‘EVIE’ ROWLE i just saw in thornhollow? word around is that they’re a/an 33 year old SHIFTER, but i doubt that’s true. they’re pretty DETERMINED  from what i know, but i’ve heard a rumor that they can be STRICT  too; must be why they’re a/an LAWYER. they kinda remind me of WALKING ALONE ON ABANDONED RAILROAD TRACKS, A BEAT UP LEATHER JACKET AND COMBAT BOOTS, PAINT COVERING A PAIR OF OLD JEANS .

Full Name: Evelyn Astrid Rowle Age: 33 Birthday: July 24, 1986 Occupation: Lawyer Species: Shifter Gender: Cisfemale Pronouns: she/her Sexual Orientation: Homosexual Faceclaim: Alicia Vikander

death tw

- Evie was born to two shifters like her, Augustus and Emmeline Rowle. They knew that shifters could be dangerous, especially during the full moon, so until Evie was close to her first shift, she wasn’t allowed around them very often. The fact she was possibly going to be one was never hidden from the young girl since both her parents were apart of the pack, but it was still safer to keep her away from them, especially younger shifters who hadn’t quite gotten control of their shifts. When Evie was 12 though, she shifted for the first time, and it took her years to control them. Years to control some of the anger that came with it as well, but she was able to successfully control both after much practice and patience, getting help from the rest of the shifters. 

-  Emotions were a very difficult thing to handle for the young shifter, as it seemed they only got worse as her ability finally kicked in. Evie found herself easily angered, especially by other species and rarely by her own kind. Even from a young age, she had felt a strong connection with the rest of the shifters. There was one however that always seemed to purposefully get on her nerves. It was while she was still young, while she hadn’t learned to control the shifts, or the emotions. One time, they caused just enough emotion to cause Evie to shift, and attack the older shifter. Of course, being young, she was weak and caused no harm to the other. Though when she learned what she had tried to do, that was when she began taking her training more seriously. She knew as she grew older, she’d also grow stronger, and hurting one of her own was something she never wanted to do. 

- During her childhood, before her first shift, Evie had a friend around her age. She’d always believed them to be human, but knowing there was other supernatural beings in Thornhollow, she really was never sure. This was her best friend at the time though, one of her only friends and they did practically everything together. However, when Evie had her first shift, when she realized just how dangerous she could be to another species, she distanced herself. Over the course of just a few days, she had made sure to completely disappear from the other kid’s life, spending the next few years taking her training to heart and spending most of her time in the forest until she finally gained a little control of her shift. She didn’t really know how to explain everything to the old friend, so she never bothered finding them when she returned to town, it felt like everything was so new again anyways. As if she had never even been there before. Never met any of the people. 

- From a young age, Evie knew she would never like boys, and she never really did. However, Evie’s main goal was to make her parents and pack happy, so she kept this a secret for most of her life. To her, this made her think she had to try and prove herself to her parents, so she did the only thing she could think of. She dated a few guys, spread them out over a few years so her parents would think she was happy with each one as a new one came along. However, she never really was happy in any of the relationships. Spending time with the guys wasn’t the problem, it was pretending to like them and show affection. None of the relationships would last longer than a couple months, Evie finding herself miserable and either breaking things off or giving the guy a reason to. Evie was 22 when she did finally come out to her parents, and slowly the some of the pack, being quite surprised when no one questioned her and gave her all their support. Evie broke away from the dating scene after this though, finding herself wanting to be more dedicated to her pack than dating anyways. Evie hasn’t dated anyone else since then, and still has yet to come out to anyone outside of her pack.

- It would be a lie if Evie said most of her life wasn’t at least decent, she didn’t have a whole lot to complain about. Her pack was like a huge family, and honestly she had everything she could need. However, about seven years ago, she ended up losing her parents. She still isn’t sure what the cause of their death was to this day, just that their bodies had been found deep in the woods after they went off with some of the others from the pack to hunt. A group of them had left, but only three came back, not unharmed, but still alive. Evie had been devastated at first, but realized quickly that a fight is how they would have wanted to go out and while she still thinks about it today, she tries not to grief about it too much. Her time after this was spent taking care of the three harmed shifters who had come back, not bothering to ask too many questions, and just making sure they would return to full health quickly. Evie knew that each and every member in the pack was equal, and while some of the shifters mourned, Evie made sure the other wolves healed and kept an eye on the border of their part of the woods, making sure that whoever had attacked them, wouldn’t strike again. 

- Her parents wouldn’t be the last loss Evie came across. Only a few short years after her parents death, something none of the shifters saw coming occurred. The current alpha passed, which meant a new had to be chosen. It took more time than expected, some mourning over the passing, some arguing over who should take his place. The alpha had had a son, one of which thought he rightfully deserved the place since it had been his father’s place before him. Some of the shifter’s agreed, until unexpectedly Evie’s name was mentioned by the previous Elder’s wife. Evie had always had the pack’s best interest at mind, at heart and apparently his wife wasn’t the only one who believed Evie was the right one to be leading the pack. While the decision could have easily been taken into a vote, Evie knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Honestly, she didn’t want it to be that easy. She knew there was a fight coming, and while she never thought she would be in this fight, she was prepared. It wasn’t easy, but in the end, Evie did win. She’d known the boy since a young age, and knew he wasn’t prepared to be leading the pack, she had to win, it’s what was best. 

- The death of Elliana had come from almost no where, peace having been in Thornhollow for some time now, but the death immediately stirred tension as a young shifter had been accused of the murder. Evie knew Jenson’s past problems, most shifters had them, but she had watched the boy grow up and swore she knew he had nothing to do with the murder. Having one of her pack members wrongfully accused and then killed struck anger in Evie, a strong disliking for the Fae quickly arising, especially as Jenson was proven to be innocent after his death - after another murder. While Evie doesn’t really care about many other species, she especially dislikes the Fae due to this event.

[the-canary]

Pastel Colors - B.B (14/15)

Summary: If only the cute teacher would stop pestering you for a pen.(Library/Teacher AU! Reader/Bucky Barnes)

Prompt: you’re always asking me for a pencil because for some damn reason you don’t know that there is a whole store for stationary—happy birthday here’s a gift card to that store. wait, you work there? what the hell?

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @bithors writing challenge. Aside from the epilogue and a few strays drabbles, this is sort of the end of these two fools in love! I am going to be honest and say I wasn’t the happiest when this series started, but I ran with it and as my 2nd Bucky series, I’m pretty happy with results. Thank you to Kumi for allowing me to take part of her challenge. Thanks to @isavuu for being my beta and general support from the middle of the series and letting me see its full potential. Thank you to my other two friends for being fucking soundboards. 

Thank you for taking the time to read it and appreciate my little high school! 

Feedback is always appreciated.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 |  Part 12 | Part 13 

March rolls away softly with sweet dates and eager kisses. April is a bit cooler, but just as sweet with ending of your first semester. Yes, there are setbacks and things you still have to learn, but you enjoyed everyone’s research presentations and some of the students had been kind enough to give you feedback on how you could better yourself– they were a wild group, but you knew they were good kids. From that point forward, you move towards adding the finishing touches to the science and book fairs. Both would be held near the end of the school year, though students had been told two months in advance in order for them to prepare their project, since they would be judged by the Board and Tony Stark himself.

So, here you were on weekend, discussing the final details with Mrs. Potts-Stark.   

“And with that, the event will end with a mini fireworks display, per the request of Mr. Stark,” you explain the last bit of your notes, as the redhead shakes her head lightly at her husband’s dramatics though there is still a bright smile on her face, the love evident on her face. You laugh, catching her off-guard, as she coughs lightly before going back into work mode.

“That sounds perfect,” she says as you nod, “I know that you’ve done a lot of things out of your usual job, but thank you so much for the help. I look forward to working with you towards the new school year as well.”

“Ah,” the sudden praise now catches you off-guard, as you nod your head at her gratitude, “Thank you for taking the chance at me. I’ve grown a lot this past school year.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Potts-Stark exclaims, as you give her a questioning look, “You should thank Mr. Philips for that.”

“Ummm…what do you mean?” you ask curiously. Mr. Phillips was someone you looked up as a mentor because while he was rough around the edges, he was a kind-hearted man that often spent the time telling you about his WWII background and fishing adventures when he wasn’t sending you to do the chores for the library since his back often went out due to a previous injury. You even got postcards from him and his wife every so often since they had started their RV adventures a little over two years ago.

“He said, ‘ That’s kiddo is a spitfire if you give her the right work. She just needs to move on from her mourning, is all ’” she explains, trying her best to imitate his voice near the end, which causes you to laugh, though you understood where he was coming from – you had mourned your mother for a long time and it wasn’t until you became the Head Librarian that you were pushed out of it. This whole year had gotten you to past that it seems.

“He’s just like a noisy grandpa,” you giggle, as she shakes her head. Her expression a bit more open before, “But, thank you, Mrs. Pot–”

“Pepper,” she cuts you off, as you look at her in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“You can call me Pepper,” she smiles and you do as well, a little prouder than before at the privilege she has given you, something you would have never thought you deserved last July, but you had gained and grown so much thanks to her – you owed so many things to everyone and you only hope that things would get better from here on out. She grins and taps her pen on the desk before going to the next stack of papers you had handed her at the start of the meeting.

“So, you wanted to make some changes to Mr. Barnes’ classroom?” she tries to go back to her regular business mood, but can’t help but grin at the sight of your plans. Ah, fools in love, she thinks as it almost reminds her of another person with a passion for science and wonder.     

“Ah, yes! I was hoping to…” you explain your plan under watchful blue eyes.

Pepper Potts-Stark can only hope she gets an invitation to a certain event in the near future, as she sees your bright eyes full of love and adoration. It was still too early, but she had a gut feeling for the both of you, one that had never been wrong – as Tony would like to say. And I mean, she was the one that pushed you together from the beginning, no?

 “Now what are you planning?” Steve questions as he sees you leaving Bucky’s classroom on a Thursday, one of the two days that he doesn’t have tutoring or any clubs to deal with. You had promised to meet him later on for dinner with the excuse that you still had some work to deal with.

“Something, something,” you answer, as he shakes his head.

There was a huge grin on your face, as he watches you enter the room before following you. In the past couple of months, Steve had seen you break out of your shell and become a completely different person that didn’t hide behind Mr. Philips’ shadow, but he had also seen Bucky –the romantic and never ending optimist–  come back from the dead after several years.

At your surprise shining bright in front of him, Steve couldn’t help but grin and that’s when he knew you guys were perfect for each other – maybe, even like Andromeda and Perseus, without the whole sacrifice and rescue motif though.

 The whole school festival celebration ends up being a 3-day event that starts with a book fair, which you are quite busy running and showcasing several different works of the students throughout the different classes. Mr. Rogers’ classes hold a mini art gallery, Ms. Romanoff’s students showcase their digital art in the same space. In the second day, Ms. Hill replicated her earlier success with a school-wide poetry slam, and there were sports events with prizes thanks to Mr. Barton. However, the crown jewel was certainly the science fair on the last day.

This time around Bucky was busy showcasing his students to the board members and Mr. Stark, as you run around making sure everything is in place. It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that you both had a break since everyone was celebrating Peter’s win with his webbing, that quickly caught the former CEO’s attention, along with a visiting princess that had come along with her older brother to visit Stark Industries. You pull the man away from the festivities and drag him to his room, as he gives you a curious look.

“Doll, what are you planning?” he questions, as you laugh though without telling him anything. You shake your head, as he can’t help but smile at what silly thing you might be up to because since you started dating Bucky had come to realize you could be a tease and prankerster when you wanted to be.

“It’s not a secret, if I tell ya, Bucky,” you shake your head as he sighs. You tell him to close his eyes before opening the door to his classroom. You wait one, two, three seconds before opening the door and telling your boyfriend to open his eyes.  

“Damn,” is all he can breathe out at the sight of his classroom cloaked in darkness close to his desk, but speckles of stars and familiar constellations scattered throughout the classroom ceiling. As it moves further out from his desk, the skies starts to lighten up with the farthest wall in an array of warm, pastel colors in its own artificial sunset.  

“So, where are they?”

“What is, starlight?”

“Where the hell are those pens you took from me, James?” you question and hit him on the right shoulder as blue eyes widen. He lets out a nervous laugh, fully knowing that they are stored safely in one of his desk drawers back home where he used them for his own journaling – not that you were going to figure that out anytime soon. You pout waiting for answer. Instead, he chooses to grab you by the waist and spin you among the stars before planting a sweet, long kiss on your lips.

However, that doesn’t stop your plight.

“You better by me some new ones, Mr. Barnes,” you pout, as he sways you back and forth to some old song you have realized he had become fond of humming, though you don’t know which one yet.

“I’ll buy you the whole damn store, Ms. Librarian,” he grins before peppering kisses throughout your face. Your shared laughter echoing in the room full of stars.

Because while you could thank a lot of people for this happening in the end, it was really just a pen –your precious stationery— that caused all this to happen.

Finale (Part 15) 

[oldnatgwenaccount]

See You Again

Bucky Barnes | Song Imagine

Masterlist

Description: You were Bucky’s best girl back in the 40s before you both were shipped off to war. You were Sargent Major Y/n Rogers of the 107th with Bucky as a Sagent under you. Once Steve met up with you and Bucky on the battlfield you all go on a mission and you lose both of them, and yourself not long after.

Requested: No

Note: Inspired by every Marvel crack that made me hate everything. Also you are a speedster because of experiments done by HYDRA.

It's been a long day without you, my friend And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again We've come a long way from where we began Oh I'll tell you all about it when I see you again When I see you again

You lost Steve and Bucky in the early 40′s. You lost yourself later that year. SHIELD rescued you from a HYDRA base in 2008.  When your twin brother Steve was found, you were estatic but your heart still mourned the loss of your boyfriend, your Bucky. Steve wasnt just the closest thing you had to him but also your daily reminder. A reminder that he was gone and never coming back.

Damn, who knew all the planes we flew Good things we've been through That I'll be standing right here Talking to you about another path I Know we loved to hit the road and laugh But something told me that it wouldn't last Had to switch up look at things different see the bigger picture

The day you watched Bucky die was the hardest day of your life. You watched as your plans and dreams were crushed. The wedding you had been planning would never happen, the child you had yet to tell Bucky was on the way would never know their father, and the happily ever after you craved was gone. A few months after Bucky’s death and Steve’s disappearance, HYDRA captured you and because of the experiments held on you, you lost the baby. You barely remember your time at HYDRA, having your mind wiped so many times and being in cryo freeze so often. Once SHIELD got you out and you were reunited with Peggy, things looked up. And then Steve was back and you saw hope.

Those were the days hard work forever pays now I see you in a better place How could we not talk about family when family's all that we got? Everything I went through you were standing there by my side And now you gonna be with me for the last ride

You stand at the entrance of the Smithsonian Museum. You stare at the sign advertising the Captain America portion of the World War II exhibit. Fury called you the night before saying you’d start a tour guide job at the Smithsonian. He seemed to have left out the part about the World War II exhibit would be your sector but you guessed that's what made you ‘perfect for the job’ as Fury told you. You walk straight in and put your things away in your locker.

“Hey y/n, your first group is here, Its a groups of local elementary kids who are studying World War II so they’re all yours.” Matt says, poking his head into the break room.

“Okay.” You follow Matt out and see a group of 10-year-olds, and about 3 adults. “Hello everyone! Welcome to the Smithsonian Museum!”

“Hi!” all the kids say.

“My name is y/n and I’ll be your guide today. So lets make out way to the exhibit and then we’ll begin.” The kids follow you to the entrance of the exhibit and you stop turning to look at them. “So does anyone know anything about World War II before we begin?” Multiple kids raise their hands. “How about the young man in the blue?”

“I know Captain America was the greatest soldier before he disappeared.” 

“You know, Captain America wasn’t the only person who was known as the greatest,” You tell the kid. 

“Who else?” Another asks.

“Well for starters, his twin sister Sargent Major Y/n Rogers and Agent Peggy Carter, and...” You pause a little trying to calm yourself before cry at his name. “And Sargent James Barnes.”

“The kids actually read about Miss Rogers and Sargent Barnes yesterday.” One of the adults, who you assumed was a teacher, tells you.

“Oh really, you know, I was really close with Sargent Barnes.” You tell the kids.

“No you weren’t. You’re too young.”

You laugh at the kids reaction. “Well thank you for that compliment but I can tell you all don’t recognise me at all.” All of the kids give you a weird look and you laugh before turning around and walking to a specific exhibit. Once you reach the exhibit, you turn around as the kids gather around. “Sargent Major Y/n Rogers, at your service.” The kids look between the photo of you on the exhibit to you and back a few time before they get excited. You and the adults laugh.

“Sargent Major Y/n Rogers, born in Brooklyn, New York, July 4, 1918. Steve and I were the only children born to our parents, Sarah and Joseph Rogers. Joseph, our father, was apart of the 107th and died during the First World War. Our mother was a nurse and died of tuberculosis a few years before the Second World War. Steve and I spent most of our childhood on the streets of Brooklyn with James Barnes. Except for the times Steve got beat up too badly or was really sick. Then we stayed in and just gave each other company.” You say before moving over slightly.

It's been a long day without you, my friend And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again We've come a long way from where we began Oh I'll tell you all about it when I see you again When I see you again

“Sargent James Buchanan Barnes.” You freeze and stare at his exhibit. “He was uhm.... he was a great friend to Steve and I. The best if that. Bucky was always the one to save Steve from fights and just an overall caring guy. He was the first to register for the war. I followed suit and the Steve.” You suddenly see a screen change and see a video of you and Bucky sitting together, laughing and his arm around your shoulders,a couple soldiers standing round you two. Then it changes to you and Bucky dying of laughter seeing Steve in his captain America suit. Steve laughing at you childish ways. “Alright guys, lets move on.”

First you both go out your way And the vibe is feeling strong and what's Small turn to a friendship, a friendship Turn into a bond and that bond will never Be broken and the love will never get lost

You wave to the kids as they walk towards the exit. You smile as each one converses about their favorite part and how cool it was to meet you. You turn around and walk back into the exhibit. You glance around at some of the photos and videos before you spot a familiar super soldier standing in front of the Memorial stand for Bucky.

“Never expected you to know about this place.” You say standing beside him.

“I never expected you to be able to talk so much about him and not cry.” Steve tells you. “You were great with the kids.”

“Well before I was in the Army I did want to be a teacher. I guess this as close as I’ll get since my credentials are a little out of date.” You laugh. 

“You two were so happy together.” Steve smiles slightly at the video of You and Bucky.

“We were all happy. Guess that kind of crashed when Buck died and we both disappeared.” 

“Yea. I guess it did.”

And when brotherhood come first then the line Will never be crossed established it on our own When that line had to be drawn and that line is what We reach so remember me when I'm gone

“Steve, you really need a girlfriend.” You laugh as you and Steve climb the stairs to yours and his shared apartment.

“You’re as bad as Natasha.”

“Great minds think alike.”

“Alright well I have to go.” Your neighbor, Kate, says. “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac.” Everyone goes silent and awkwardly stands around. You clear your throat and elbow your brother, addressing your neighbor.

“If you want, your welcome to use our machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement.” You facepalm and Steve just send you a glare.

“Oh yea? What’s it cost?”

“A cup of coffee?” Steve smiles, elbowing you in return for moments ago.

“Thank you, but I already have a load downstairs and you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward so.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” You mutter.

“I’ll be sure to keep my distance.” Steve says.

“Well I hope not too far.” She starts to walk away and Steve tosses you the keys. “Oh and I think you left your stereo on.”

“Oh, yea, thank you.” Steve says, smiling and Kate finally leaves. Steve glances at you and you shake your head. Steve leads you out the window by your door and over the the window leading to the hallway of your apartment.

You and Steve slowly make your way in. You grab your gun from the closet and Steve grabs his shield. You both slowly make your way towards the stereo. As Steve rounds the corner, he notices Fury sitting in the arm chair.

“I don’t remember giving you a key.” Steve sighs, leaning on the wall. You move around him, gun at the ready until you see Fury and drop it slightly.

“You really think I’d need one?” Fury asks as he groans, struggling to sit up. “My wife kicked me out.” Steve and you give a puzzled look.

“We didn’t know you were married.” Steve says.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Fury responds.

“We know Nick, that’s the problem.” Steve turns the light on and Fury stops him, turning the light back off before typing on his phone. Ears everywhere, you and Steve read, sighing.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash.” Fury turns his phone again and you read, Shield compromised.

“Who else knows about your wife?” You ask.

“Just my friends.” You two and me, Fury writes on his phone, showing you and Steve. Fury slowly moves towards you and your brother.

“Is that what we are?” Steve’s asks.

“That’s up to you.” Suddenly four gunshots sound and three bullets go through Fury’s back, the forth into your abdomen. You shake it off and quickly help Steve pull Fury away from the outer wall. You and Steve go to see who fired and Fury pulls you back, opening his hand to reveal a flash drive. You nod and take it, placing it in your pocket. “Don’t trust anyone.”

Suddenly there’s banging on the front door and it busts open. “Captain Rogers? Major Rogers?”

“Captain, Major, I’m agent 13 of SHIELD special services.”

“Kate?” Steve questions.

“I’m assigned to protect you,” “Kate” says as she rounds the corner.

“On who’s order?” You question.

“His.” She says, moving to check on Fury.

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.” “Kate” says into a Walkie-Talkie.

“Do we have a 20 on the shooter?”

“Tell them we’re in pursuit,” Steve says as he takes off running towards the window where you both see the shooter.

“Steve!” You shout running after him. You phase through the wall next to where he crashes through and run up the wall to the roof. You look around and see a man running away. You quickly follow him, refraining from using your speed so that way you have Steve as back up once he reaches the top. You and the shooter both jump down to another roof we’re Steve lands, busting through a window. Steve throws his shield and the shooter freezes and catches the shield with one hand. You get a good look at the shooter and notice his strickingly blue eyes. Something that you would have ignored had they not been extremely familiar. You soon shake off the feeling as the shield comes flying towards Steve. You rush towards your brother’s side. When you both look up, the shooter was gone.

You instantly start coughing and see blood come out on your hand. “Steve?” Your brother turns around to see your shirt soaked in blood and your face pale.

“Y/n!” Steve runs over and carries you to help.

How could we not talk about family when family's all that we got? Everything I went through you were standing there by my side And now you gonna be with me for the last ride

“Yes sir.”

“Agent Sitwell, my dear friend, how was lunch?” You say into the phone. “I heard the crab cakes are delicious here.”

“Who is this?”

“The h/c girl in the sunglasses at you 10 o’clock.” You glance at Sitwell. “Your other 10.” Sitwell looks to you. Sam raises his ice tea, addressing Sitwell.

“What do you want, Miss Rogers?”

“Your gonna go around the corner to your right. There’s a grey car two spaces down. We’re gonna take a little ride.”

“Why would I do that?” Surely asks and you laugh lightly, responding. “Because that tie looks really expensive and I’d hate to mess it up.” You watch Sitwell look down and see a red dot on the middle of his chest.

So let the light guide your way hold every memory

As you go and every road you take will always lead you home

After Steve nearly killed Sitwell, you, Steve, Nat, and Sam make your way to the triskelion to stop the helicarriers take off, Sitwell blabbing the whole way. But before he can share too much he is ripped from the car and tossed across the freeway. Natasha climbs into the front seat as you quickly dodge the bullets coming through the roof of the car.

Sam quickly brakes and a man flies off the roof. As he looks up you instantly recognise him but before you can say anything a black jeep rams into the back of the car. Just as the car starts to flip, the shooter on the black jeep and the steering wheel of your car now gone. Steve gabs his shield and busts out his door, dragging Sam and Nat out with him. You phase through the car, landing onto the freeway. The shooter fires a rocket and it led straight to Steve’s shield, sending him flying over the freeway barrier. “Steve!” You shout, speeding down to the street below, moving civilians out of the way. You run up to Nat and you both start running away from the men, searching for Steve and Sam.

“Get the civilians to safety, I’ll handle the ghost.” Once everyone is safe you watch Natasha drop from a gunshot and umrun to her aid. “Wheres the ghost?” You look up and see him about to shoot you when Steve runs up and knocks him away. You slow the bleeding of Natasha’s wound before running to help Steve. Once your beside your brother you both punch the ghost and he stumbles back. Steve continues to fight him and you grab his shield. “Steve!” You shout as you throw the vibranium shield to your brother. Steve continues to battle the ghost before he throws him and the ghosts mask falls off. You both stare at him until he turns around and your previous suspicions comeback, only confirmed this time.

“Bucky?” You and Steve day simultaneously.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

It's been a long day without you, my friend

And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again

We've come a long way from where we began

Oh I'll tell you all about it when I see you again

Your heart shattered in two the day you found him. The man you loved, that you were meant to marry, was alive. The only problem... he didn’t even know who you were, let alone the fact of who he was.

When I see you again

-^-^-^-^-^-

This absolutely sucked but I was bored so enjoy my shitty writing with an absolutely shitty idea I thought of at 1 in the morning.

[lunebinnie]

(1/11)Oh my gosh yesss I'm glad that you like long messages too because I talk way too much 😂 (And yeah about my friend and just hanging out w/ her more that's exactly what I was thinking 😂) It's actually kind of funny bc just yesterday I was hanging out at her house and her younger brother needed to go to Walmart and I was like 'I've been meaning to go to Walmart, I'll take you' and ofc since I have a bluetooth radio adapter the whole drive I had my Spotify going with some quality k-bops, lol

2)And as we were driving I noticed him kind of jamming and I was like 'Oh my god Mickey do you actually like this???' And he was Like 'yeah, these are some good bops 👍' I was shooketh. I had to go home before I had the chance to show him any music videos but he says he's open to watching some with me next time I see him. One way or another I'm going to turn someone in my social circle into a kpop fan you mark my words ☝ and then maybe we can team up and try to work on his sister some more 😂

3)I only started first getting into kpop last June so I'm still very new, but it's definitely super frustrating how so many ppl act like it's an inherently bad or cringey genre of music just bc it's kpop! The stigma is ridiculous! I also started out with BTS (lol) and since they're pretty popular in the US at least I was able to be like 'See, this isn't just a niche thing, lots of people know abt and like this group' but of course my dad still says 'Just cause it's popular doesn't make it good'

4)And I'm like? You're a band teacher, you of all people should understand that music doesn't have to be in your native language (or even have lyrics) in order for you to enjoy it, but go off I guess... It's the same with one of my college friends. They make fun of me for liking kpop but this is coming from some who still treats March 22nd (the day My Chemical Romance broke up) as a day of mourning. Like, no tea no shade no pink lemonade, MCR was a good band nothing wrong with liking them.

5)But like if you're 22 and you still haven't grown out of your emo phase do you really have room to pick on other people for their music taste?  🤷 Anyway that's the person who follows my main that I didn't want to know I had a kpop sb. I think I made it around July. Tbh it was pretty dead for most of 2018. But like I said I've started using it way more since I recently revealed that it exists, lol. Especially since that good good Astro cb 👏💗😩 But honestly Astro is such a blessing

6)Idk how I lived so long w/o them. When I first got into kpop I was planning on just sticking to BTS since the reaction to me being into kpop was so volatile. I was like 'I'm only into one group, ppl already are negative about me liking kpop so I'm just gonna stick to this and not become a full on multifandom fan' and then in Nov I accidentally let myself fall in love with Monsta X and that plan was foiled. And realizing I wasn't gonna be able to stick to just one anymore opened the floodgates

7)And I was like okay in that case, let's just start getting into *all groups* Lol. My story of getting into Astro was actually bc of my best friend's roommate (can you tell I have like one friend and my whole social circle kinda revolves around her? Lol) so this roommate when she heard me being sad about having no kpop friends was like 'oh hey, I'm kinda into kpop' and it turns out she didn't like very many groups and was one of the ppl who blah blah BTS is overrated, which ya know isn't ideal8)But I was just really desperate to have someone to talk about kpop with. And Astro was her favorite so I was like, okay I'll get into them so that I have something to talk about with her! So I started watching some videos and I fell in love with them pretty much instantly! And I was real excited bc #1 now I can talk about kpop with someone! And #2 this group is actually amazing? Bonus! ... And then they got in a big fight about their living conditions and the roommate ended up moving out RIP

9)So that didn't work out, lol (Your story about finding them during that internship sounds amazing though! Haha) But yeah, so this is my first cb too! And although I love them w/ my whole heart and would have loved to have them in my life even sooner what an amazing cb to be your first! The concept was wonderful, the album was excellent, the visuals were to *die* for. They worked so hard and I'm so proud of them and I'm so happy we got to see their work come to fruition and get them a win 🤧🤧

10)The dance practices though? You're so right omg 💗 Me and my Rocky bias *fully* understand 😂 All of them are such good dancers?? I never fail to be impressed. Of course you know who I always end up watching tho 👀 lol (̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶l̶f̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶R̶o̶c̶k̶y̶'̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶o̶t̶w̶o̶r̶k̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶m̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶.̶.̶.̶)̶ ̶ I also love how at the end they always pause all dramatic for a minute and then start screaming 😂

11)It's like? Amazing talent *and* dorky personalities? What more could you ask for? Lol. In regard to your last question though Unfortunately I also won't be able to see them 😔 I live in the smack middle of the US and since they're only going to coasts all of the venues are way too far away to get to. Esp since it's the school year and I can't skip class to drive cross country for a concert much as I'd like to (Holy lord I talked over twice as much?? Why am I like this?) Talk again soon! -ASA

Okay SO I’m very sorry I haven’t had the time to answer everything until now bc I’ve been busy studying for midterms and also I was a lil trashy today since my uni closed bc of freezing rain so I slept in but I’m glad that FINALLY everything got sent like damn tumblr you really don’t want us making friends huh. 

Yessssss I love the feeling of seeing someone else also get into the same interests! I’ve been pretty lucky in the sense that I grew up around mostly other asian americans, so kpop was never something that was considered super “weird,” like some people were into it and some weren’t but even if you weren’t you still would’ve been familiar with the more popular groups from when you were younger. Even now, I have a bunch of friends also into kpop (one of them is even my roommate) so tbh I was definitely the one in my friend group late to the party aha. Even my university hosts kpop nights at our bar and I’m pretty sure we have a kpop dance team as well? So tbh if I met someone new there’s probably like a 50% chance they’re into kpop or at least listen casually. 

Tbh I used to be a little bit judgy too but moreso because of the obscene amount of money I’ve seen some of my friends spend (no joke one of my friends has spent probably like $500+ on Loona stuff in the past month and a half and another friend bought like 5 copies of the same album for herself like damn idk how do you have that much money).

I also really don’t like it when people bash other people’s music tastes, since I feel like it’s something so personal? Idk but for a long time I used to be really self conscious about sharing my music with other people and even now I feel like that sometimes. For me after getting into BTS I kind of expected to get really into other groups since I was in Korea anyway and I was already listening to a lot of other artists casually. For me it started with NU’EST (fell for them immediately at the same concert that I saw Astro at) and then after was Astro, and then I just started slowly getting into other groups after that (even though I haven’t totally been able to get into Got7′s music they’re SO funny and I just kinda fell for their personalities  you know). 

I honestly think that they did such a wonderful job with this comeback too! I like seeing their concept evolve and mature but they’re not straying too far from their original cute concept so I feel like it’s a nice middle ground that’s very unique to them, you feel? Also I feel like the visuals especially and the execution of the whole plant concept was just done so well?? Even my friend who’s not in kpop was like “k idk who they are but that was the prettiest music video I’ve ever seen”. What are your favourite eras and songs? For me I’d have to say either the Spring Up or Baby era BUT right now my favourite song is probably Again/Should’ve Held On though tbh my mood and my tastes change like every few weeks loool. 

I have no idea why I tend to be most attracted to the dances rather than vocals or rap (maybe has to do with the fact that it’s something I’ve always wished I could do but have always been bad at lmao). But Astro’s stood out to me for the exact same reason! I just thought it was so funny seeing them all break character at the end because you really get to see how hard their choreos are and you get a glimpse of their personalities like damn, how can you not stan these dummies?

That’s really unfortunate that you won’t get to see them either :/ They’re also coming to the closest city to me but it’s on a Tuesday, but I *hypothetically* looked up flight prices and tried to see if I could get away with just missing a day of classes if I flew back in the middle of the night since I have some friends who did the same thing and drove down to Buffalo but I seem to have underestimated the size of New York State LMAO. But apparently my university’s too far from the airport so it’s “not realistic” (and also I’m hella broke from travelling to Taiwan and Japan while I was in Korea but that’s a minor issue ig). I hope we do both get a chance to see them live though! Who knows, after the success of this comeback I’m expecting a lot more cbs and world tours out of them ;)

[10839346-blog]

The Best of Frank Ocean

Frank Ocean was born October 28, 1987 in Long Beach, California. Soon after, his family moved to New Orleans, Louisiana.  Many of Frank’s songs tie back to his New Orleans beginnings. Ocean first big mixtape,  named Nostalgia Ultra  was released in 2011. His first studio album was called Channel Orange., it was released July 2012. His second album was released in 2016 titled, Blonde.

After he released his first studio album  he had many interviews, played at many festivals and performed in many concerts , but almost a year later Frank had mostly disappeared from the limelight.  Frank says he doesn't really try to be a mystery man but instead he just says that's just how he is. After this absence,  he rarely posted on social media,  but when he did post he hinted toward a new album being made. Frank Ocean then posted a pic saying a new album titled Boys Don't Cry,  was to be released July 2015.  July came but no album was released.  This same scenario happened multiple times, Frank would say a realse date but the month would come and go nd nothing would be released.  On August 1st,  a black and white live video started on his channel. On  August 20th,  almost 4 years after his first release, Frank finally released his long awaited album, Blonde. Picking the best 5 songs between Nostalgia, Channel Orange, and Blonde was almost an impossible task. However, here are Frank Ocean's best top 5 songs.

#5 Bad religion

Frank Ocean's 5th best song, “Bad Religion,”  was released in 2012 on  the album Channel Orange. Less than 24 hours after the release of Channel Orange, Ocean posted on his tumbler an “open letter” about his current struggles and what this album was about. While many famous people would go on a talk show to explain something like this, Frank choose a different route in which he posted a small letter explaining that this album was mostly about his first love, the only thing that really surprised people was that this album was about a boy.

The letter that Ocean shared with the world is very open and honest. In it, he shares his experience of being in love with a boy he met when he was 19. He talks about how they spent the majority of the Summer together. In the song, “ Bad Religion,” Ocean writes about unrequited love. In his letter, Ocean says, “I sat there and told my friend how I felt, I wept as the words left my mouth. I grieved for them, knowing I could never take them back for myself. He patted my back. He said kind things.He did his best, but he wouldn’t admit the same. He had to go back inside soon, it was late and his girlfriend was waiting for him upstairs. He wouldn’t tell the truth about his feelings for me for another 3 years”.  In this song he says, “It's a bad religion, this unrequited love, to me it's nothing but a one-man cult, And cyanide in my styrofoam cup, I can never make him love me, Never make him love me”. The song is referring to his first love, this boy who he loved so much but who wouldn't tell him the same.  As the letter is wrapping up it says, ”Grateful that even though it wasn’t what I hoped for and even though it was never enough, it was. Some things never are.. and we were. I won’t forget you. I won’t forget the summer. I’ll remember who I was when I met you.” Frank Ocean's song “Bad Religion” is his 5th best song because of all of the ties that is has to his open letter.

#4 Ivy

“Ivy,” is Franks 4th best song. Some critics say this is one of Ocean's best work. This song is the second track of the album Blonde. This song is explained by some as a heartbreaking memory or dream. “The song has been likened to "a diary entry where a long-buried memory surges back into his mind in bits and pieces, with the "bittersweet angst" being compared to Brian Wilson, "mourn[ing]" that "We'll never be those kids again"” (wikipedia.org).

It is speculated that the song is called “Ivy,” because Ivy is a parasitic plant that isn't good for the tree surrounding it, much  like the relationship Ocean sings about in this song.  Frank is singing to someone who he was once close with until they realized that their relationship was toxic for both of them. This is Franks 4th best song because almost everyone can relate to this song.  Most people understand having a failed relationship. Many people know how it feels to be in a relationship when you are young that falls apart when you begin to grow up.  That's why the line, “You ain't a kid no more We'll never be those kids again” touches people so deeply, it reminds them of an old forgotten memory or dream that even if it didn't work out, “But we both know that deep down The feeling still deep down is good”.

#3 Self Control

Franks Ocean’s 3rd best song is “Self Control.”  This song was also released on Ocean’s 2016 album, Blonde. Something very unique in this song is the fact that Frank uses a lot of auto- tune. He uses the autotune to make his pitch sound higher. He makes himself sound higher because he wants to sound younger. Autotune isn't the only element that hints to a time when he was younger. In the first couple of  lines he talks about wet dreams and drugs which both  introduce the immature level he represents in “Self Control.”

The chorus of the song is him asking someone to stay with him, but as someone who is young often does, after extending the invite,  he says “it’s nothing”- to try to seem nonchalant and cool. Many people think that this song is also about his first love, the boy that Franks Ocean’s open letter was about. While the lyrics and autotune make this song very interesting, that  is not exactly what makes this Franks 3rd best song. The reason this is Frank's 3rd best song is because of the outro. He sings, “I, I, I Know you gotta  leave, leave, leave Take down some summertime Give up, just tonight, night, night I, I, I Know you got someone comin' You're spittin' game, know you got it”-    He repeats this multiple times. It's hard to put into words how beautiful this outro is. When talking about his songs, Frank once said, “They are just cords, just Melodys. I don't know what combinations of those objects make me feel how I need to feel but I know precisely the feeling that needs to happen.”  I think Frank gave everyone this feeling he is talking about in this outro.

#2 Pyramids

Oceans 2nd best song is “Pyramids.”  This song is on his Channel Orange album. This song is placed in the middle of the album. Not only that but the whole album is 62 minutes and 18 seconds. At Exactly 31 minutes and 9 seconds you are in the middle of this song “Pyramids,” the song changes totally and this marks the first half of the album and the last half and how they are very different.  

Within the song “Pyramids,” the first half is very different from the second half. This creative genius is what makes this Frank Ocean's 2nd best song.  The first half of this 9:53 song is about the ancient Egyptian ruler Cleopatra. The song starts with him talking about cheetahs because it is said that she kept cheetahs as pets. As the songs continues you discover that Cleopatra has been taken. It seems like the person who has taken her is promising her a good future.  The lyrics say, “We'll run to the future, shining like diamonds In a rocky world, rocky-rocky world”. Promising her a rich future with diamonds. In the beginning Frank says that Cleopatra was stolen, he then reveals that she actually left on her own free will and with that being said we come to part 2 of the song. The 2nd half of the song is now in present day, still with Cleopatra but a totally different Cleopatra. This Cleopatra is a prostitute. He says she is working at the pyramids (which is most likely a strip club). As Ocean continues the song,  you can easily tell the narrator of the story has fallen in love with Cleopatra. At the end of the song he says, “But your love ain't free no more.”  It seems as if the narrator of  both the first and second sections of the song have lost their lovers called Cleopatra.  This very in depth and intriguing story and its creative presentation  is what makes this song Frank's 2nd best.

#1 Novacane

The all time best song by Frank Ocean is “Novacane.” This song is the only one on my list  from Nostalgia Ultra, a mixtape that was produced in 2011. One of the first things someone might realize about this song is the spelling of “Novacane.”  In the medical world,  the word novacane is spelled novocaine and refers to a drug usually used by dentist for numbing. The different spelling of this word might not strike some as something significant but there are actually lots of meaning behind spelling the way Frank does. The word Nova means “A star showing a sudden large increase in brightness and then slowly returning to its original state over a few months” (dictionary.com)  The word “cane” has multiple meanings but here it's referring to a cane or a crutch as something that some people rely on in their everyday lives, such as a drug addict relies on drugs as a crutch or a cane in their everyday lives. After listening  to the song you can easily tell why it is spelled the way it is. This song is about a woman who like the nova star, increased the brightness is his life for a couple months until she left, and he was relying on her in his everyday life like a cane. It is also called “novcane” because after she leaves he is left completely numb to any other woman and to any other feelings in the way the drug novocaine leaves your mouth numb to feeling.

The reason this song is Frank Ocean's #1 song is because of all the double and even triple meanings within it. The lyrics are rich with these layered meaning and ideas.  After this woman leaves him,  Frank is extremely numb to every feeling. The outro of the song is the best part, he starts with saying “I can't feel a thing, can't feel, can't feel a thing,”  after that line is repeated he changes and starts saying, “I can fulfill her”. A change that is very subtle and most people don't even pick up on it.

Each song that Frank sings has a variety of meanings,  innuendo, and interpretations.  Every song has a story full of  beautiful and descriptive language. Frank is a genius and has added so much to the musical word.  These top 5 songs are more than just songs they are very personal narrations of his life and we are all blessed to know them.

[its-just-like-the-movies]

June 2017 Viewing Log

Same number as last month! Steady stream, though I hope to at least pass 42 next month. Especially since I only got July before school starts. But ah! Film Studies classes. Lordy, what a good month I had, if Barefoot in the Park was the worst thing I’ve seen. Enjoy!

The Crazies (10, B): Tight as a drum, dialing every set piece perfectly, utterly thrilling & scary even if we’ve seen this blueprint before. - 06/01/17

The Help (11, C+): Engaging for its length, but baggy. Structure alone speaks to iffy politics. But Viola Davis holds up like a steel tower. - 06/01/17 (rewatch) (review)

Enough Said (13, B-): Lovely ideas and dynamics somewhat hampered once the full conceit reveals itself. Thank God Gandolfini saves Albert. - 06/03/17 (review)

The Godfather Pt. II (74, B+): So many glories, such powerful, epic ambitions on all fronts, but stumbles a bit for all its glories. - 06/03/17

The Godfather (72, A): No real tweet.

My Dad and I saw The Godfather in the front row in easy chairs and seeing something so epic only two feet from the screen was so perfect - 06/04/17

I’m Not There (07, A): I understand prismatic as a term now. So virtuosic! To paraphrase many great men: “Look at all these Dylans!” - 06/05/17

I learned so much more about Dylan that Thatcher, Belfort, Liz II. And you know where he says he was?

(talking to someone else) I can’t wait to rewatch it. Now that I’ve spent two hours in awe I’ll spend the next two studying it more.

Carnival of Souls (62, B): Low budget, bare-bones plot feels like it could collapse at any moment but this is bizarre, spooky, interesting work. - 06/06/17

The Mourning Forest (07, B): Maybe too into its photography, none too exciting. But it’s tough at its center. I look forward to a rewatch. - 06/06/17

The Edge of Heaven (08, B+): Exciting, unpredictable trajectory with rich rewards. So finely attuned to the emotions of its characters. - 06/07/17

Wonder Woman (17, C): A lot of ways as a film it could’ve been better made. But as an experience it was exciting, and so goddamn important. - 06/08/17

Definitely has some problems in the moment. But my sister cried three times, and its connecting with so many people in a way that matters.

Zodiac (07, B): Triumph of structure and theme, abetted and inhibited by Fincher’s direction. Sets, photography, Lynch pretty swell too. - 06/09/17

Sophie’s Choice (82, D+): So brazen in its appropriation of the Holocaust, and of Sophie, in some Southern babe’s coming-of-age story. - 06/10/17

Streep’s miraculous, but she can’t escape how nasty the film’s structure is to her, and there’s no picture to support this character.

This should have been told from Sophie’s POV, not Stingo’s. That alone would’ve done wonders for this film.

Zootopia (16, B): No tweet.

Jane Eyre (11, B): Again, no tweet.

Capote (05, A-): Cold yet deeply personal, like a gunshot to the head. Evokes real crises of character. Performed, directed to a T. - 6/11/17

It Comes At Night (17, B): Weak jump scares give way to a truly paranoid, scary chamber set-up. Between this and Alien who wastes Ejogo more? - 6/11/17 (review)

The Hurt Locker (09, A): Terrifying, textures every scene and every character so adroitly. So technically prodigious. Bigelow a genius. - 06/12/17

The Grapes of Wrath (40, A-): Filmmaking as sturdy as the Joads. Genuienly timely tale of the working class that honors a doozy of a novel. - 06/13/17

The Bridges of Madison County (95, A): Maturely observes its characters, how they experience their loves, how they judge their lives. - 06/14/17

Two romantic triumphs for Eastwood that seem so outside his usual oeuvre. With every new Streep performance I’m almost crying. She’s perfect.

Magic Mike XXL (15, B): The Odyssey, but with strippers, and a more lackadaisical tone. Cast, changing rhythms hold it together. - 06/15/17

Dark Victory (39, A-): Richly full of feeling, somehow dodging easy sentimentality towards a supremely likable lead, fully realized by Davis. - 06/16/17

Walk the Line (05, C): Baseline quality to high to call rote, but never is it very special. Amazingly, unhelpfully slow and stodgy. - 06/16/17 (review)

Lake Placid: The Final Chapter (12, --): No real tweet, but guys. This was great to watch at 1AM. - 06/18/17

I’ve been thinking a lot about Elisabeth Röhm’s killer work in Joy but that doesn’t explain why I’m semi-enamored with her Lake Placid perf rn

Double Indemnity (44, A-): Crackerjack plotting, slickly realized by Wilder, gorgeously photographed. Inimitable cast. Richly scored. -06/19/17

Red Hook Summer (12, B-): Thematically and emotionally complicated. Filmmaking, story, kids falter frequently. Peters never strays. - 06/19/17

Hyenas (92, A): As absurd & darkly hilarious as many tragedies can be. Magnificently adapted in itself, to West Africa, to African cinema. - 06/20/17

Julieta (16, B): Definite case of not walking in with the right mood, but I still appreciate plenty. Just one I know’ll do better on rewatch. - 06/20/17

 The core feels more elusive here than in other Almodóvars, and of course I appreciated it visually. Leads felt like they weren’t adding much.

Female Perversions (97, B+/A-): Characters and concepts come to startling life. Deliciously specific, neurotically and visually captivating. - 06/20/17

The Letter (40, A): Never slows down from the first six shots. Davis and Wyler do psychologically, emotionally rich justice to a lurid tale. - 06/21/17 (review)

Young Adult (11, C): Prickly ideas. Cody barely has consistent characters. Reitman barely shapes it. Theron, Oswalt still get somewhere. 06/22/17

Hope Springs (12, B): Filmmaking ain’t much, but who cares when the result is so earnest invested in its characters, and at their age. - 06/22/17

How lovely to watch for Meryl’s birthday, but equally fitting for Tommy and Steve. How lovely in general.

Blue Valentine (10, A): What would Dean and Cindy have to say to Kay and Arnold? What do they have left to say to each other? - 06/22/17

So adroitly textured, in the past and the present, for the couple and each partner. Wedding bells cross-cut with marital funeral rites.

127 Hours (10, C): Like Steve Jobs, stylistically out of sync with its lead and their story. Compelling, but I took a while to start caring. - 06/23/17

The Omen (76, B): Not all its tricks survive without a laugh, but for the most part this doomed lurch towards biblical tragedy holds up. - 06/24/17

I’m taking back the number of the beast/cuz six is not a pretty number/eight or three are definitely better

Barefoot in the Park (67, C-): So underdone most lines DOA. Useless camera. Redford, Natwick too droll. Fonda too serious. Least Boyer’s fun. - 06/25/17

I canme about 20 minutes late to the broadcast. But lord even when the film was playing I felt I wasn’t missing much.

Metropolis (27, A): Endlessly fascinating realization of revolutionary acts, cinematically and politically. Relevant in best and worst ways. - 06/25/17

Macbeth (15, B): Haunted by actions its character have and have yet to take. Smart choices, vividly realized, by Lord and Lady especially. - 06/26/17

Could Atlas (12, C): Ambitious, fine, and accomplished in many ways. Yet why am I so underwhelmed? Six stories end in three places. - 06/26/17

Maybe because every take I find online is so one way or the other I can’t get much out of them. I can’t grasp it and no one’s helping.

Maps to the Stars (15, C+): Not sure how well Cronenberg’s style fits Wagner’s scripts. Not sure about much beyond Moore(!!), honestly. 06/27/17

Damsels in Distress (12, B+): I know people like this. Delightfully absurd, kind to the characters it skewers. Sambolas across a tightrope. - 06/28/17

Night of the Iguana (64, C): Coulda used more guts, especially in coloring its sexualities. Gardner a blast. Burton, Hall, camera intrigue. - 06/30/17

Okja (17, B+): Poignantly zany, doing that societal satire thing way better than Snowpiercer. Almost feels child-friendly. Hug the pig. - 06/30/17

Additional Review: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (16, yuck) (review)

[brainfoodgp]

Seeds For Wellness Journal Summer/2017

“There needs to be a lot more emphasis on what a child can do instead of what he cannot do.” -Temple Grandin-

I have certainly been busy this month celebrating my 45th new year! For someone that spent a lot of my 20’s and 30’s trying to find ways to end my life, there is a certain joy that comes with each new passing year. Managing my manic depressive symptoms is in itself a full time job. However, by eating a healthier diet and getting out into a garden as much as possible. I realized that the reason I am still on this earth is to spread that message throughout the mental health community. Both of these wellness tools successfully work for me and I know deep down they could work for you as well.

A perfect opportunity to further that mission came about several months ago when life coach and motivational speaker Ozioma Egwuonwu invited me to come out to The Dream Center in Newburgh, NY and to share my story and vision for Brain Food Garden Project. The DreamTalk will take place on July 27th from 7-9PM I hope you will be able to join me or stream it live. To learn more about The Dream Center Click Here  And to learn more about its founder Ozioma Click Here

I love the fact that we highlight certain days, weeks and months out of a year to bring attention to important causes. I love Mental Health Awareness month and the greater understanding it brings to the world. However, I also believe that we should talk about all of these important issues all year long. It is our goal at Brain Food Garden Project to keep the dialogue flowing on a plethora of topics related to mental health and food justice every single day through social media and this blog. That is precisely why I turned over our BFGP Feature story this month to a good friend and the mother of a beautiful young man Carter, who just happens to also be Autistic. Sarah Todd’s beautifully written article will indeed show you the true meaning of the words unconditional love.

Also this month we return with more Notes from the Resistance, and What I’m Reading and our Healthy & Delicious Recipes tie in to our feature story on Autism.  

Happy Reading!  

The BFGP Feature:

Sarah Todd is a resident of Covington, Georgia. Besides being an exceptional mother to her son Carter and a true believer in the power of Harry Potter as a mental health wellness tool. She is also an advocate for all children and parents dealing with Autism. Sarah is the Vice Chair of County Parties and County Party Liaison for the state Democratic Party. She travels county by county insuring that the next generation of grassroots activists are trained and ready for the frontlines.

Life As an Autism Mama by Sarah Todd

When it comes to parenting a child on the autism spectrum, you often wish there was a book you could pick up that would give you step by step instructions on how not to screw up your one task, which is to raise a happy, healthy human being.  I’ve wished and dreamed for such a thing, but I know it doesn’t exist because as the old saying goes, “if you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.”  There is no one-size-fits-all strategy for raising an autistic child.

In the grand scheme of things, I’m relatively new to the world of autism.  Unofficially, I’ve lived in this world for 11 years.  Officially, for 9, when we received a diagnosis of PDD-NOS (Pervasive Developmental Delays – Not Otherwise Specified) for our son Carter. I had a totally normal pregnancy. Easy delivery.  Everything was just fine and we couldn’t be happier. Carter progressed as he should have for about 15 months and then stopped reaching “normal” infant and toddler milestones.  I really didn’t need a doctor to tell me my child was different.  I knew something was different about Carter before we were ever told.  A mother always knows.  The signs were there.

Lining up toys in a straight line.  Loud noises hurting his ears.  Twirling until he fell over and then getting back up and doing it again.  Bright lights hurting his eyes (and in stores, the noise of florescent lights hurting his ears).  Not interested in playing with toys, but wanting to see how they worked (especially if they had wheels that moved).  Walking on his tip toes.  Answering your questions with a question or just repeating back to you what you said to him (echolalia).  Repetition. Repetition.  Repetition.  Hand flapping when he was excited (this was really cute and I kind of miss it now that he’s outgrown this stimming technique).  The obsessive love of Thomas the Train.  My husband and I knew it was time to get him into something else when we ended up arguing about two of the trains at 3 o’clock in the morning – long after Carter had fallen asleep, but with us still watching.  Thomas the Train being replaced with an obsessive love of the movie Cars.  Seriously, I’m pretty sure we put some Pixar employee’s kid through college with all the stuff we had to have because it was Lightning McQueen (although I’m pretty sure that was normal for every little boy at that age).

We started the therapies that were recommended by our doctor - occupational therapy and speech therapy. They also recommended ABA therapy (Applied Behavioral Analysis therapy), but our insurance wouldn’t approve it.  When he was three, we enrolled him in a program through our local school system called Babies Can’t Wait that provides early intervention for children with developmental delays.  We couldn’t get him into the program until about three months before the school year ended, but it was a very good start to getting him socialized with other kids.  He was in a special needs Pre-K class at one school.  I wasn’t impressed.  We moved to put him in a better school.  He excelled in this other school.  He’s just finished up the 5th grade and is moving to middle school this year. He’s leaving elementary school on the A/B Honor Roll and he has made lasting friendships with some really great kids.  The teachers and staff of this school are some of the most amazing people you would ever hope to have in the field of education.

Carter was “mainstreamed”, which means he split his time between smaller special education classes and regular classes with neurotypical children.  He loves math.  I guess it’s because he can see how it works in his mind.  He’s a visual learner.  He receives occupational therapy and speech therapy through the school system and it helps him maneuver through a day with other kids who don’t have a clue what autism is.  His classmates know he’s different.  They just accept him.

It sounds like a perfect life and I can’t tell you how many times someone has said to me that they couldn’t tell that he’s on the spectrum.  Good.  That’s exactly how we’ve raised him.  I take my role as a parent preparing him for a life without me very seriously.

He really is a happy kid and I consider myself to be the luckiest mom in the world to have a son that was voted “Most Polite” by his fellow classmates and teachers at school this past year.  He’s funny. He’s smart.  He’s kind.  Unlike some others on the spectrum, he’s extremely empathetic.  He’ll bring you a tissue if he sees you crying and tells you over and over that it’s going to be ok.  By my account, he’s doing just fine.

He’s just out there being the best 11 year old he can be.  There have been times when he’s faltered, but what child hasn’t?  Getting to this point though has been a struggle for us.  I would never speak for my husband because our roles in Carter’s life are very different, but for me, this life hasn’t always been peachy.  I wouldn’t trade being his mom for anything in the world, but I would like to know what it’s like to not go to sleep on a regular basis being eaten alive with worry. He’s an only child.  Who will be there for him when we’re gone?    Will he be picked on at his new school?  Will he always be oblivious to the dangers of this world?  Will he ever be able to communicate with people in a truly meaningful way?  Will he ever find someone to love him for just being his amazing self?

People don’t know that it’s lonely being a parent of a child with autism.  We’re surrounded by others, but they have no idea what kind of struggles we go through.  I often wonder to myself if parents of neurotypical kids are guilty of wishing that, for once, their kid just “gets it” like everyone else does.  Or, in my more selfish moments, I want to know do they know what its like to mourn the loss of a child that never existed, but you thought you would have?  Where’s my son that would play little league baseball instead of sitting at a computer all day building cars on car company websites?  In my more critical moments, I’m deeply ashamed of myself for thinking such things.

We face a lot of external strains.  Financially, we’ve taken hit after hit.  Georgia wasn’t a state that mandated autism coverage when Carter was younger so we had to pay for his therapies out of pocket.  We burned through our savings.  I cashed out two 401k’s.  We lost our home to foreclosure, but I have a kid who can communicate with others so I think we chose wisely.

I consider myself pretty lucky that I have a great partner on our son’s journey to adulthood.   Don’t get me wrong - I get angry with my husband. I resent the hell out of being The Parent while he gets to be Mr. Fun Time Guy to hang out with on the weekends, but we also know that we’re not the focus anymore so we get over ourselves real quick.  It’s not about us.  It’s about Carter and we do whatever we have to do to get through another day as TeamTodd

I’m not naturally predisposed to being an optimistic person.  I’ve never been what can be described as patient.  But since I am my child’s introduction to the world, I do whatever I can to be just those very things.  You don’t know love until you are choking down your rage at watching the same movie for the 786th time.  If you are a planner like me – a logistics queen – you weep for your former life because now you know you have to just go with the flow.  You can plan and plan and plan and think you have something figured out for just about every scenario imaginable (and you usually do if you are an autism parent), but there will always be that one thing that comes up that you just have to deal with.

Well-meaning people ask me all the time how to interact with those on the autism spectrum or what can they do to help?  I usually chuckle.  They are so serious when they ask, like they’ve just heard you have some terminal illness and they don’t know what to do.  It’s ok.  Nobody knows what to do until you must deal with it yourself.  I usually tell them that the most important thing to remember when interacting with someone on the autism spectrum is to be patient and don’t take it personally if you don’t get the response you have been hard wired and conditioned to receive your whole life. Anything “typical” to you may or may not be to them.  Really. Can you imagine what it must be like to live in a world that is always too loud, too bright, too colorful, too distracting, too smelly, too much?  We ask so much of people with autism.  Every day, these individuals are expected to fit their square pegs into the round holes of our society.

Life is all about choices. Some people choose to get bogged down by life, to see the ugliness of a cruel world.  We choose to see life through Carter’s eyes – one filled with love and joy and empathy.  We choose to protect him for as long as we can, but we also choose to let him experience his life his own way.  We’ve relinquished control of the path we take.  We’re just along for the ride now and we couldn’t imagine a better guide.

What I’m Reading:

We named Temple Grandin our BFGP Hero back in April of 2016 after I finally watched the wonderful HBO movie based on her life and read her first book Emergence:Labeled Autistic. In honor of my friend and fellow Hufflepuff Carter Todd I have recently started reading The Autistic Brain:Thinking Across The Spectrum by Grandin and Richard Panek. The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette called it “The right brain has created the right book for right now.” 1 in 88 children are affected by Autism. to learn more about Autism Click Here  

Notes From The Resistance:

The Christo Fascist Authoritarian regime currently holding our country in a vice grip knows no shame. From trying to again take away millions of American’s health care to appointing a company party planner to oversee New York’s federal housing programs. These are our notes from the resistance. 

1, Who Gets hurt by the SNAP cuts in the current regime budget? Click Here

2.  This is nothing to party about Click Here

3. Food Justice experts weigh in on the Fascist Click Here 

4. Pesticides our health is at risk with the Authoritarian’s EPA Click Here

5.  End the fascist regime’s pay for play in the private prison system sign the petition Click Here

Healthy & Delicious Recipes:

When I talk to friends with children on the autistic spectrum. One of the consistent things I hear frustrates them the most is the fact they find it difficult to feed their children healthy foods because their kids just want pizza or chicken nuggets. So much of this has to do with the fact autistic kids see visually and taste differently than we do. I have been following our guest writer Sarah Todd’s journey on Facebook recently on working to get Carter to eat more healthfully. That struggle inspired me to look for a recipe this month that would fit Carter’s  sensibility but with mom’s desire for him to eat healthier.

Baked Panko Breaded Chicken Nuggets

INGREDIENTS

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1 pound total)

1 cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs)

1/3 cup grated Parmesan

Coarse salt

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

½ cup all-purpose flour

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

Cooking spray 

DIRECTIONS

1.Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cut chicken into 2-inch pieces. Spread panko on a rimmed baking sheet and bake until golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Transfer to a shallow dish, then add Parmesan and ½ teaspoon salt; drizzle with oil and stir to combine.

2.Place flour and eggs in separate shallow dishes. Increase temperature to 450 degrees.

3.Set a wire rack in a rimmed baking sheet; lightly coat rack with cooking spray. In batches, coat chicken in flour, shaking off excess, dip in egg, then coat with panko, pressing to adhere. Place on rack.

4.Bake until chicken is cooked through, 12 minutes, flipping halfway through. Serve nuggets with sauce.

[prettylittlelyres]

2020: My Year in Reading

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:- Part 4 -:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

In July, I finished reading “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” by Victor Hugo (in English, as my French doesn’t stretch that far yet), which… I mean, Victor Hugo’s probably not reading this, so I think I can say comfortably that I didn’t really enjoy it. You can’t call your book “anti-racist” if you refer to a certain character more times by an ethnic slur than by her actual name. Esmeralda. She deserves better, and so does every Romani person out there. Victor Hugo has a lot to answer for, with the stereotypes his novel perpetuates, and it’s not the sort of book you should take at face value. Read it, but, for God’s sake, read it critically. I’m glad to have got it off my reading list.

Of course, I keep track of the news, so it didn’t slip by me unnoticed that Tr*mp was suing his own niece, Mary, for the way her memoir portrayed him. “Too Much and Never Enough: How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man” is a harrowing read, but explains so much, and is one I’ve recommended to just about everyone I know at this point. [Incidentally, “this point” is actually “the evening of 9th January 2021”. I woke up early this morning to news of the permanent Twitter ban and had a little celebration before I went back to sleep.]

Somehow, I managed to make it all the way to July before I finished reading “The Haunting of Hill House” by Shirley Jackson, to which audiobook I listened as I packed up my things, ready to move to Southampton. I found it hard to get into, but really enjoyed it. I also read “The Taken Girls” by GD Sanders, and “Trail of Lightning” by Rebecca Roanhorse, which were both very exciting.

My favourite book from July, though, was one I read in that revolting heatwave, where it was too hot in our living room to move. I spent the whole day sipping water from a litre-jug, trying to keep as still as possible, and racing through “The Witches of St Petersburg” by Imogen Edwards-Jones, which is amazing. It’s not just that I’m so interested in the last years of Romanov rule in Russia that I’ll stare for hours at a stack of hay, provided Anastasia looked at it once; the book is genuinely good, and I’d gladly shove it in everyone’s faces if it weren’t quite rude to do so.

My sister recommended I read “Unwind” by Neil Shusterman, but warned me that, “It’s quite hardcore body-horror. It’s absolutely terrifying. Apparently, there are four sequels, but I can’t bring myself to look.” So, of course, I looked. What a brilliant book! I got through “Unwind”, the first in the series, in a single day, and read “Unwholly” the next. She’s right – it’s absolutely terrifying and should probably not be read with the lights off – but I also want to recommend it to all of you, for next time you want to be scared out of your skin (…and maybe I mean that literally…). Speculative Fiction always ensnares me, and this was no exception.

August was also a month in which I returned to my old favourite, Historical Romance, with “Tiffany Girl” by Deeanne Gist. I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t expect to like it much (it’s a romance between a man and a woman… and I’ve been a bit rude about that genre, historically, because I’m an idiot, but it’s growing on me now, and I’m sorry for the opinions I used to have of it), but then I ADORED IT! It’s all about the young women hired by Louis Comfort Tiffany to complete the stained glasswork on the chapel he designed for the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893, when the original (male) glassworkers went on strike. Much as I dislike the idea of crossing a picket line in real life, I’d say it’s probably fine in fiction, and certainly makes for a brilliant story here. Of course, there’s a love story in there, too – as it’s a Historical Romance novel – and it’s so gorgeously written that I practically cried as I hoovered up the last pages of this book. It’s exactly the kind of love story I want to write, with lots of Yearning and Longing, and very little Telling Each Other How You Feel (we live for drama, and we live for drawn-out slow-burn romances, but only in fiction!), and big sweeping Romantic Gestures (which are great in real life as well). As it focuses so heavily on the creation of stained-glass windows and ornaments, there are whole pages of beautiful descriptions to bring it all to life, and although it’s actually just black text on white pages, the whole book feels alive with colour! It took all my self-control not to convert the living room of my university house into a glassworks.

Romanov Russia is not the only aspect of history (a ridiculously general genre, anyway) which interests me; I’m also drawn to Disaster History, the study of disasters, how and why they happened, and steps we’ve taken to stop them happening again. On 4th August 2020, a cache of ammonium nitrate exploded in Beirut, destroying a large area of the port, and killing over 200 people. All I could think of was how much it looked like the Halifax explosion of 6th December 1917. 103 years later, it was happening again: a fire out of control, a store of explosives too close to the flames, countless families shaken, too many lives lost. It was at the front of my mind. I’d just started reading “Shattered City: The Halifax Explosion and the Road to Recovery” by Janet M. Kitz, a comprehensive account of the disaster. From the stories of its victims and the families that mourn them, to the valiant efforts of countless charitable organisations to help repair the damage done to the city and its inhabitants, the book covers everything. If you’re at all interested in how societies learn from the worst things that happen, how to prevent recurrences, read this book, listen to the episode of Jennifer Matarese’s podcast “Disaster Area”, and please donate to relief efforts in Beirut.

[rilenerocks]

Some people go through their lives without ever experiencing the death of a loved one. My husband was one of those people. The grandparents he liked died when he was a young boy. He only vaguely remembered them. His other grandfather died before he was born. The surviving grandmother was a person he actively disliked, a woman who was initially uninterested in him and then actually hostile toward him as he grew up. For the most part, his relatives lived for a long time. His father died at 98 and his mother outlived him, dying at 96. Death made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like thinking about it. He hated funerals and memorials. When he got sick with his deadly Merkel cell cancer which was already metastatic, he looked at me in wonder and said, “the first person I mourn will be myself.” I felt tremendous sympathy for him. He was an innocent. I was not.

Death was familiar territory to me. It was always part of my family’s conversation, along with illness and disease. Michael and I always likened our differences to that movie scene in Annie Hall where Woody Allen’s family was shouting about diabetes and Diane Keaton’s was talking about rummage sales. Worlds apart.

The deaths which affected me most started when I was thirteen and my baby cousin died on the day I graduated from 8th grade. My parents went off to be with hers.

I struggled with emotions ranging from a deep sadness to guilt that I was upset that my mom and dad wouldn’t see my walk down the aisle, with my blue and white ribbons pinned to my dress and my gold honor roll pin with blue writing in its center.

That was just the beginning. As I went through my teens, the only grandfather I knew died. That was sort of normal. Then as I entered my twenties, the suicides started.

The first was one of my cousins, Dennis, who shot himself. Next my grandmother died, a normal death from old age.  In my 30’s, it was my other cousin, Eliot who committed suicide. Eliot was like a little brother to me. He leapt from a building in Chicago. I attended his funeral with my baby son under my arm. The year after he died, my friend Fern committed suicide. I have yet to recover from that death. She was a victim whose mental health was destroyed by others. I’d call hers a wrongful death. Despite trying everything I could think of to stop her, it happened anyway.

The year after that, my parents both got cancer. My mother survived but my dad died at 67. At the time, I thought he’d had a long life. My, how getting older changes one’s view of longevity. His death was my first bedside vigil. I cared for many of his physical needs as my mom was still recovering from her own illness. I crossed all kinds of boundaries between a daughter and a father. I knew I was changing from those three deaths in a row but I wasn’t sure how. I reeled from their absences. But there was nothing to do but go forward and recognize that being mindful of what was important in life needed to be something I could figure out. Fast. I think I could call that “afterward” period, just a few years before I turned 40, the time when I honed my best critical thinking skills.

I was very intellectually conscious of who I wanted to be, as a daughter, a wife, a mother and friend. I knew that I wanted to be present. I wanted to be available for people who experienced traumas similar to mine. I guess that’s because the process of grief and loss can be painfully isolating. You often wind up feeling like you have a contagious illness that everyone wants to avoid. So on I went.

As I passed through my 40’s and 50’s, people continued to die. There were the uncles and aunts. There were young teens who were friends of my daughter’s, kids she’d known from as early on as day care and grammar school. I wept at the unfairness of life and their wrenching funeral services. There were parents of my kids’ friends. I organized food trains and visited the patients and listened to them and their spouses. I stood in line by myself at their visitations as Michael never went with me. He couldn’t stand those things. My friends’ parents started dying. I went to as many of those events as I could. Dying is part of life, I would tell myself. Of course it is.

Then in 2012, just before my 61st birthday, Michael was diagnosed with his cancer. I couldn’t believe it. Not Michael, the strong, athletic beast, as my kids called him. Not the progeny of all those people in his family who were so long-lived. But there it was. And my grooming in the world of illness and death made me ready for what turned into our 5 year ride on the cancer rollercoaster, up and down, up and down. So many treatments, moments of hope and health, moments of despair and teetering on the edge of death. We talked about everything during his illness. Both of us felt that as devastating as it was, that we hadn’t reached the worst of the worst. That would be if one of our kids got terribly sick. Both of us questioned whether we could survive that. During the few years before his disease exacted the ultimate price, Michael hovered at the edge of life in 2015. My blows kept on coming.

My brother died that April. Michael was weak but pulled back from the brink in June with a new treatment. He was still trying to gain strength when my mother died in July. Her death was followed later that week by the death of our beloved collie, Flash.

I was learning about all types of grief, the sudden, the acute, the drawn out. The surprise grief that bursts out unexpectedly, just when you think you have your act together. And then after a brief respite, it turned out that Michael would never have to face the question of whether he could stand anything awful happening to our kids. After a heroic effort to stave it off, his sneaky cancer returned with a vengeance and took him out, after a grim struggle for life that lasted from January, 2017 to May 28th of that year. I spent myself down to tatters in those months. I stayed with him in the hospital for 32 days and nights. I was able to get him home where through herculean efforts, he survived for close to three months in a blur of home health visits, treatments and eventual cognitive decline. But he died where we’d lived our life, with me holding his hand and our children beside us.

After that, I was whatever is beyond exhausted. My son departed to his postdoc across the world in Guam and my daughter and her family began to resume their normal life. So I could recover and my son could participate, we delayed an event to honor Michael until December of 2017. That’s when I began to understand that this sadness about Michael had a life of its own. I was going through my days with the spirit of Michael on one side of me and this active pain, almost physical in nature, on the other side of me.

Then, about a week and a half after Michael’s death, a dreadful crime was committed in our community. A foreign national graduate student who’d just recently entered the country to begin her work was kidnapped and quickly assumed murdered. The case got a lot of press. An all-out search began, but within a very few days, the FBI had identified the person who they alleged had committed the crime. He was arrested at the end of June. Public outcry was enormous. The student was Chinese and the university in our community has a large Chinese population.

My daughter is a federal public defender, locally based. When I heard about the case, my first thoughts were, please, please don’t let this case fall in my kid’s lap. Our whole family was reeling with fatigue and grief over Michael’s death. Something this enormous was terrifying to me for her, just having lost her dad, at a time when we were so stunned with sadness. Then came the welcome news that a local law firm had been retained for the case. I breathed more easily and slipped back into focusing on trying to comprehend Michael’s death at the now early-to-me age of 67, the same age as my dad was when he died, that I’d once considered old. I was working hard to cope as was everyone in our family.

Our little unit of four was always a tight, intimate group. Such a huge piece was now missing and we were trying to negotiate that big hole. Who thought that a new pressing issue could push its way into our void? But that’s exactly what happened.

Despite the fact that Illinois abolished the death penalty in our state years ago, the federal attorney general, Jeff Sessions, attached the death penalty to this local case in one of his last parting shots in his position. Twenty states have abolished the death penalty. Nine others have a formal moratorium on it in place. That this could happen in a state that clearly banned capital punishment was astonishing. Although most progressive countries have quit this practice, our country remains among the ones where it is still allowed. For me, I have always considered the death penalty to be institutionalized murder. I’ve never understood how family members of a crime victim can derive any solace from the execution of the perpetrator. Their loved one is still gone and will never come back. A personal opinion, yes. But to me, murder is murder no matter who is doing it.

In early September of 2017, the private firm that had been handling this sensational and ultimately gruesomely detailed case, withdrew from the defense, thereby handing it over to my daughter’s office. Suddenly, barely three months after Michael’s death, my daughter was going to be a primary attorney in a case where the client’s life was at stake. I don’t think she ever thought she would be on a capital case. Why would she, in a state that had eliminated the practice? Suddenly a new heavy weight was thrust onto our family’s shoulders. In addition to carrying our pain about Michael, we now had the burden of wondering what this case would do to my kid, who had to rapidly learn the management of a murder trial with death as a possible sentence.

As time went by, the demands on her time increased in many ways. She needed to travel to conferences and to receive training. That meant absences from her husband and children in addition to me. All jobs mean that time must be taken away from family life. But this was different. The stakes were high. I knew my daughter was laboring under the onus of feeling that she was now responsible for a life or death verdict for her client. She had other attorneys and investigators on her team but as time moved along, it was apparent that she would be in a primary role in the case. I could feel the pressure on her, pressure that was coming from within. My daughter takes her job and its constitutional definition very seriously. Throughout her life, she has always given everything to the tasks before her. As a serious athlete through much of her life, at the end of a competition, she wanted the ball in her hands, to try to attain a victory. And I knew that she would, as the athletic expression goes, leave everything on the floor. But this case appeared to be a slam dunk for the prosecutors. What would happen to my daughter’s psyche? The grief I was, and still am, experiencing over Michael’s death was like no other. But I recognized that my daughter would really need me to be her mother during this unexpected situation. Not just the sad, lonely mother missing my husband and her dad, but the mother who I’d been in “the before,” in the time when worries were considerably less than in this new combination of nightmares.

How in the world would I negotiate this situation?  I never felt that I lost any part of myself when Michael died. He and I were both strong and independent. Being strong all the time gets old, though, and I was now in a position where letting down could affect my daughter at a time when I felt like she needed me. Her own family needed her. Struggling to be the best attorney, a good wife and a good mom was huge. The last thing she needed was for me to be in some pathetic state. We went through all of 2018 and the first five months of this year, barreling closer to the time when the trial would begin. Because the public opinion in our community was so visible, there’d been a change of venue and while my daughter hoped to come home every weekend, the workload for a trial like this didn’t allow for that. So she moved away for the duration of the proceedings. What a nightmare for all of us. Could there be anything harder than being separated from your loved ones in the most intense time in your life?

That’s what my kid faced as well as those of us who love her. During the guilt phase of the trial which began in early June, the defense admitted guilt on the part of their client due to powerful evidence that the prosecution had assembled. It was ugly. There was an endless stream of negative social commentary from who I call the uninformed haters, the people who don’t understand what the law says and who were vengeance-driven and angry at my daughter for doing her job. There was also support but it took awhile for that to become evident as many people didn’t actually know what was happening. Perhaps they might have been more vocal earlier along if they had. The admission of guilt meant that everything would come down to the penalty phase when the jury would have to decide whether the defendant would receive the death penalty or life in prison without parole. This case was like the proverbial dark cloud, hanging over us all and encasing us in it at the same time that we were mourning. Now it was a question of life or death. My daughter who had for almost the duration of this case had been missing her dad, who’d slid into death before her eyes, now held a life in her hands and seemingly in her power. We talked about whether she was prepared for a death sentence and I know she was trying. Last Wednesday, a week after my knee replacement surgery, I limped into our local federal courthouse which provided a live feed of the proceedings to the local community.

The prosecutors presented their case first and at the end of their statement m, said death was the only correct penalty for the case. Then my daughter stood to present the closing statement for the defense. I was mesmerized by her. She spoke with no notes and away from the lectern in the room. She spoke from her heart for 64 minutes and when she finished, I wept. She spoke for life and I sat there remembering all the deaths and the struggles for life I’ve seen and the complexity of what it all means.  For the first time I thought there was a glimmer of possibility for saving a life. The jury deliberated a day and a half and finally told the judge they couldn’t be unanimous in their verdict.

That meant an automatic life sentence for the client. My valiant daughter had pulled off a miracle with her genuine and sincere closing statement. I feel terrible sadness for the family of the victim. But I still believe that the client death would never assuage their pain. I am incredibly proud of my daughter for her strength and conviction. She came home Friday and I saw her a little bit then and a little bit yesterday. She is exhausted and needs rest for a long time after this intense haul.

I will always wonder if I might have felt any differently during my process of grieving Michael, absent the extra load of this nightmare. For my daughter too. I’ll never know. What I do know is that today, I feel the relief of this case having ended. To avoid the blistering heat, I sat in my house relaxing, doing busywork and listening to music. My music stream, which plays many artists’ stations at random, managed to play, one right after another, virtually every meaningful evocative song that makes Michael’s face appear in front of my eyes, although I was heaving and sobbing so much, seeing him was difficult.

I finally unplugged and fled to my garden where I watered and pulled weeds from a seated position and pondered if I’m going back to that place I might have sealed off right after Michael died. The writhing in agony place. There wasn’t enough room for it as I practiced my mothering skills. Maybe I won’t go back there. We’ll see. But in the death and life moments, emotions and grief are mutable and unpredictable. That is one thing I’m sure I know.

Death and/or Life? Some people go through their lives without ever experiencing the death of a loved one. My husband was one of those people.

[torentialtribute]

Leicester news: Danny Simpson opens up on leaving Leicester and tragedy at the King Power 

Danny Simpson kept his emotions under control in public, but once alone he couldn't help tears fall. He had just played his last game for Leicester on the last day against Chelsea and when he said goodbye to staff and environment, memories came to mind. ] & # 39; It was very emotional & # 39 ;, he says now, two months later. & # 39; I was welling up inside, but I don't like to cry for people. When private … It was more when I left the dressing room and said goodbye. "

Continuing is a fact of football, a necessary transaction, but the band Simpson feels for Leicester, after five years there, it has a special quality. It was the place where miracles were done, the place where mourning took place

<img id = "i-762f9bd249c1084d" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiPWrY -image-a-98_1563550240463.jpg "height =" 432 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-762f9bd249c1084d" src = "https://ift.tt/2CqCUN8 07/19/16 / 16256868-0-image-a-98_1563550240463.jpg "height =" 432 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-762f9bd249c1084d" src = "https: //i.dailymail .co.uk / 1s / 2019/07/19/16 / 16256868-0-image-a-98_1563550240463.jpg "height =" 432 "width =" 634 "alt =" Danny Simpson known sadness when leaving Leicester City after making history with the foxes

Danny Simpson admitted tears in Leicester City after making history with the Foxes

<img id = "i-204bd311c3951e8e" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiQEp8 0-image-a-91_1563549082018.jpg "height =" 399 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-204bd311c3951e8e" src = "https://ift.tt/2W3ngi6 /07/19/16/16256148-0-image-a-91_1563549082018.jpg "height =" 399 "width =" 634 "alt =" Simpson left Leicester as the Premier League winner after the triumph of her 2016 miracle "

<img id = "i-2b5f99f218d4aa91" src = "https: // i. dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/07/19/16/16256362-0-image-a-94_1563549324704.jpg "height =" 436 "width =" 634 "alt =" The veteran full back (right) celebrates with de t

<img id = "i-2b5f99f218d4aa91" src = "https://ift.tt/2XXTcox "height =" 436 "width =" 634 "alt =" The experienced full back (right) celebrates with the trophy after the storm club title "class =" blkBorder img

The experienced full back (right) celebrates with the trophy after the unlikely title of the club in due course but first, when he settles in an outside booth at the Piccolino restaurant in Hale, I am talking about his future.

Simpson is still a free agent and the summer growls that he weighs up potential destinations. At the age of 32, with a Premier League medalist in his possession, he is determined to find a good club. Celtic is interested and there are a number of options in England.

—-> 2008: Ipswich Town (loan)

—-> 2007: Sunderland (loan)

—– 2008-2010: Newcastle United States

& # 39; I'd like to go back to the King Power to play against the boys & # 39; he says. & # 39;

Simpson has already gone abroad this summer to maintain his fitness. He spent time in Dubai with K3 Performance, trained alongside Daniel James and Josh King, and has been in Greece this week with Mykonos Performance, another center for top athletes looking for sharpness.

& # 39; Getting away is good for your mind, and you work in the heat & # 39 ;, Simpson says. & # 39; It makes me finish the day with the new team. I have done a lot of fitness and strength work, many hill runs. & # 39;

He adds: & # 39; It was an unusual sight to see all the Leicester boys on July 1. They are like family. I was FaceTiming when they were in Evian and the fitness coaches sent me sessions to do. I'm still close to them. "

Strong relationships are forged when shared experiences have been seismic in Leicester. There was the great escape, the 5,000-1 title victory, an unlikely Champions League run and then a disaster.

The Leicester's fairy-tale Champions League campaign saw the foxes reach the quarter-finals "

<img id =" i-b224ec002a051f3b "src =" https://ift.tt/2W3ngi6 /07/19/16/16256522-0-image-a-97_1563549859117.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-b224ec002a051f3b" src = "https: // i. dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/07/19/16/16256522-0-image-a-97_1563549859117.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-b224ec002a051f3b" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiQFtc" height = "423" width = "634" alt = " Leicester's fairy-tale Champions League campaign saw the foxes reach the quarter

Among those horrible

[1 9459010]

Leicester's fairy-tale Champions League campaign saw the foxes reach the quarter-finals

At that terrible moment last October, when the helicopter with Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha and four others crashed in front of the King Power, Simpson was with a group in the team hotel.

& # 39; It just didn't seem real, & # 39; he reflects. & # 39; The news filtered through, but we still believed it had nothing to do with him. It was horrible.

& # 39; Even through the strange incident in my Leicester career, I have always supported myself. I thought good people would go through difficult times. Some owners can wash their hands. That was not Vichai.

<img id = "i-e6db246388710307" src = "https://ift.tt/2Y0sPOP -99_1563550397862.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Fox President Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha died after the helicopter crash in the stadium "

Fox President Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha died after a helicopter stadium crash 9090 in a helicopter stadium accident 90 ]

Fox President Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha died after a helicopter accident in the stadium The football world united in her grief for the loss, and challenged thousands to show their sympathy "

The football world united in its grief, prompting thousands to show their sympathy "for the loss, causing thousands to show their sympathy

] It is not his son Aiyawatt, also known as Top. Disguised in grief, Top has come forward to steer the club in a way that becomes his father. That included taking the team on a post-season trip to Monaco.

& # 39; It took me a few days to glue together & # 39 ;, Simpson says. & # 39; Top understood from his father how important that is. I had some good conversations with him.

& # 39; It's a very different kind of headspace, people come out of their shell. I will never forget the day that Shinji grabbed the microphone from scratch and danced and sang on stage. It was a Japanese song, so we just clapped! "

That was shortly after Okazaki Leicester started, at the start of the glorious 2015-16 campaign. Top has aspirations to take the club back there and that ended in February when I called Claude Puel to dismiss and appoint Brendan Rodgers.

<img id = "i-15d3af9a5baacae0" src = "https://ift.tt/2YiPYA6 16257064-0-image-a-101_1563550449750.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-15d3af9a5baacae0" src = "https://ift.tt/2UINeHc /2019/07/19/16/16257064-0-image-a-101_1563550449750.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Former Liverpool leader Brendan Rodgers was appointed to replace the dismissed Claude Puel boss Brendan Rodgers was appointed as replacement for the dismissed Claude Puel

Former Liverpool chief Brendan Rodgers was appointed to replace the dismissed Claude Puel

& # 39; I don't need too much because what you have seen on the pitch with the same players has shown you what to do & # 39 ;, says Simpson. & # 39; I'm pretty sure this season will show even more.

& # 39; Brendan is the perfect fit for Leicester. He places high demands on time monitoring and the way you behave yourself.

Simpson believes that Rodgers is enjoying a full preseason and new signing sessions in the building where Leicester can close Europe again.

& # 39; I know those players and I know the manager – I think they will be disappointed if they don't get the top six & # 39 ;, he says. & # 39; Leicester has proven before, anything is possible. & # 39;

Simpson came through the academy of Manchester United, but it was Leicester where he won the Premier League. He was helpful in instituting stingy defenses, making 30 appearances that campaign.

& # 39; Sometimes you forget & # 39 ;, he says laughing. & # 39; You are about your daily life and people remind you.

& # 39; At that time we lived in that bubble. We felt that nobody could beat us. Everyone was in sync. & # 39;

Simpson thanks Claudio Ranieri for the & # 39; He and he have a pragmatic view of where things have been unraveled for the Italian.

& # 39; You go through such a spectacular thing and things change & # 39; at night, he says. & # 39; We were in LA pre-season and new players came in.

& # 39; We went from Saturday-Saturday games to flying to Copenhagen, Bruges, and Seville. I spoke with Ryan Giggs and he said when United first started playing in Europe, it took them a few years to get used to the routine. Teams would also play differently against us.

The way Ranieri departed was a reason for Jamie Carragher to give a particularly sharp review. I accused Leicester players of knocking down tools and later jokingly equated Simpson with a snake. Simpson gave as well as he could, and reminded Carragher that he had never won the Premier League, and the couple can now laugh.

& # 39; I have met him a number of times because it is all good & well, "says Simpson, who was currently talking about a performance on Monday Night Football. & # 39; One day we'll go back and I'll get my medal – don't worry about that! & # 39;

Long-term, punditry is attractive.

Simpson has emphasized his desire to play again after he left Leicester. & # 39; The TV channels know that I would like to do that in the future & he says, & # 39; & I am talking to Jermaine Jenas and he is always told if I should ever overshadow him than I can. & # 39;

First he wants to get the most out of his career and his summer has shown that he is ready for action, he last played on May 12, when Rodgers sent him the last 14 minutes against Chelsea.

& # 39; I don't think many players will experience the reception this way & # 39 ;, Simpson says about the standing ovation.

The competitive advantage was still there. & # 39; It was funny, on the sidelines I saw Eden Hazard warming up. He went on the left wing. I came to the right five minutes after him … and luckily I made no mistake! & # 39;

Source link

[ismael37olson]

The Simple Joys of Maindenhood

One of the things that always bothers me is any production of Camelot in which Guenevere is played all sweet and virginal, or in other words, like Julie Andrews played her in the original production. The truth is that Guenevere can be a real bitch from time to time, and I think that's what's most interesting about her -- and what directors and actors miss most often. Without that, the story is far less interesting.

In many cases, original Broadway performances are reliable guides to what the writers wanted. But not always. And not in this case. Andrews had a great voice in her youth, and genuine stage presence, but she was never a very good or very nuanced actor. Guenevere, as she is written by Alan Jay Lerner, is rebellious, immature (at least in Act I), horny, and blood-thirsty! Maybe she's just a product of her times, but she loves violence (see her song, "Then You May Take Me to the Fair"); and her immaturity and restlessness will lead to a lot of needless destruction. Guenevere herself is Arthur's great tragic flaw. Julie Andrews ruined the character with her bland, sexless original performance on Broadway, and more significantly, on the original cast recording. Vanessa Redgrave understood the character much more fully in her film performance, but she was such a mediocre singer, it's hard to get through her songs. Compare Andrews' and Redgrave's opposite approaches to "The Lusty Month of May." Redgrave (with the help of more languorous orchestrations) really enjoys the words lusty and depraved, and in her hands, it's a song about fucking. In Andrews' rendition, it's just polite double entendre. In her first appearance in the show, Guenevere tells us in her "I Am" song that she is a trouble-maker. She wants men to fight over her. She wants them to kill each other over her. How can we be surprised when everything blows up in Act II? Camelot's first two songs introduce two of our three leads, and both as complete neurotics, totally ill-equipped to be married. Of course their marriage will fail. We see in these two opening numbers that they are very immature. Then again, Arthur is only 25 and Guenevere only 17 when they meet. A close look at the lyric of "Simple Joys of Maidenhood" tells us so much about Guenevere. Alan Jay Lerner has packed so much information into this song, all the while surprising us with punch line after punch line. Guenevere starts the song by calling St. Genevieve, apparently her personal patron saint. But Guenevere has to remind the saint who she is; Guenevere doesn't pray a lot. Yet only a couple lines later, she's purporting to be so devout. Right off the bat, we see that she's a liar. She says she's always been a "lamb," but we'll soon see that's not true either. She lets her anger take over and she rages at St. Genevieve, complaining about the details of her current situation, and finally -- and hilariously -- threatening to find another saint to pray to.

St. Genevieve, St. Genevieve! It's Guenevere! Remember me? St. Genevieve, St. Genevieve! I'm over here Beneath this tree... You know how faithful and devout I am, You must admit I've always been a lamb, But Genevieve, St. Genevieve -- I won't obey you anymore. You've gone a bit too far! I won't be bid and bargained for Like beads at a bazaar. St. Genevieve, I've run away, Eluded them and fled, And from now on, I intend to pray To someone else instead!

It is interesting to note Guenevere's 20th century objections to being medievally objectified. But then Guenevere decides maybe offense is a bad tack to take. If she wants rescue, she'd better be nicer to her patron saint...

Oh Genevieve, St. Genevieve, Where were you when my youth was sold? Dear Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, Shan't I be young before I'm old?

So she goes on to catalog the "conventional, ordinary, garden variety joys of maidenhood" that she's been robbed of, that she wants restored to her. And what are those simple, ordinary perks of being a teenage girl? A knight committing suicide over her. Two knights battling over her and one of them being killed. A war being waged over her, and of course, the unstated but obvious death and bloodshed that accompanies war. And finally, the best perk she imagines is not only men killing each other over her, but men killing their relatives over her.

Where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Where are all those adoring, daring boys? Where's the youth pining so for me He leaps to death in woe for me? Oh, where are a maiden's simple joys? Shan't I have the normal life a maiden should? Shall I never be rescued in the wood? Shall two knights never tilt for me And let their blood be spilt for me? Oh, where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Shall I not be on a pedestal, Worshipped and competed for? Not be carried off, or better still, Cause a little war? Where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Are those dear gentle pleasures gone for good? Shall a feud not begin for me? Shall kith not kill their kin for me? Oh, where are the trivial joys, Harmless convivial joys, Where are the simple joys of maidenhood?

That is fucked up. She has a freakish lust for violence and for bloodshed, in complete opposition to everything Arthur believes in. The central joke of the song is that all this extreme violence seems to Guenevere just the "trivial," "simple" fun of being a girl. She is actually insulted shortly afterward because Arthur won't rape her. But that lust for violence will come back to haunt her. She has no idea what she's asking for... She sees war as romantic. She’s delighted when Arthur tells her war would have broken out if they had not married. But at the end of the show, her shallow wishes come true, with deadly results. In “Guenevere,” the chorus sings:

Guenevere, Guenevere, In that dim, mournful year, Saw the men she held most dear Go to war for Guenevere.

She got her war. And it's destroyed everything Arthur built.

In addition to her bloodlust, Guenevere is also far more over-sexed than your average musical theatre ingenue. Too often directors and actors overlook her very sexual behavior. They've spent years hearing Julie Andrews' delicate, lady-like singing on the original cast album and they ignore the actual evidence in the script and score. They want to be reverent with her character because she's a queen and because ultimately she becomes a tragic figure, and perhaps also because they see Camelot as a "classic." But even a cursory look at "The Lusty Month of May" shows the real Guenevere. The title of the song says it all. It's an explicit celebration of sex, of unbridled, wicked, improper, un-wholesome, shocking sexual acts. Guenevere thinks every girl wants her boyfriend to be a cad, that self-control is a bore, that going morally astray is blissful.

Tra la, it's May, the lusty Month of May! That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray. Tra la, it's here, That shocking time of year, When tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear. It's May, it's May, that gorgeous holiday, When every maiden prays that her lad Will be a cad It's mad, it's gay, a libelous display! Those dreary vows that everyone takes, Everyone breaks, Everyone makes Divine mistakes, The lusty month of May!

The fragrance she smells wafting through the air is the smell of sex, make no mistake, that "dear forbidden fruit." But what does this tell us? That Guenevere and Arthur are hopelessly mismatched. In the novel, White says "She had felt respect for [Arthur], with gratitude, kindness, love, and a sense of protection. She had felt more than this and you might say that she had felt everything but the passion of romance." Guenevere just wants fun. No responsibility, no morality, no expectations. She's still an over-sexed -- and long repressed -- teenager.

It's May, the lusty month of May, That darling month when everyone throws self-control away. It's time to do A wretched thing or two And try to make each precious day one you'll always rue.

Her idea of a good time is to do something awful you'll regret. Wow.

It's May, it's May, the month of "Yes, you may;" The time for every frivolous whim, Proper or im-. It's wild, it's gay, depraved in every way. The birds and bees with all of their vast Amorous past, Gaze at the human race aghast! The lusty month of May!

Guenevere is all about appetite. After this song, can we be surprised when she eventually has an affair? Can Arthur be surprised? Or does he just close his eyes to this problem? Arthur needs Guenevere before he can be the king he needs to be. It isn't until he meets her that he feels kingly, that he at last wants to be a king. She is his muse. But she's also a selfish bitch (at least in Act I). Look at her initial comments to Lancelot when she first meets him. She's sarcastic and insulting. Is that proper behavior for the Queen of England to someone the King brings to court? And even though she knows how much Arthur thinks of Lancelot, she keeps criticizing Lance over and over. She doesn't even attempt to be kind to him, to try to understand him, to help him feel welcome. In a sense, she's performing for the knights and ladies around her, entertaining them with her thinly veiled jibes at Lance. But also, we can see she's attracted to him -- and acting like a lust-struck thirteen-year-old. Later on, she helps build sentiment against Lance in the court by gossiping with the knights and ladies. She gives three knights her kerchief to carry against Lancelot in the jousts. And it's with this act that she tries to make her vicious childhood fantasies come true. At last she sees an opportunity for her dreams of knights fighting over her to come true. There will not only be battles; there may well be bloodshed. She knows Arthur will never deliver those fantasies. He thinks fighting is immoral unless it's to promote righteousness. Not only is Arthur not the lover she had hoped for, he's also not the warrior she dreamed of. They are mismatched in every conceivable way. Yet, when the jousts happen, when her fantasies are at last made reality, the result is tragedy. Lionel is killed by Lancelot. Finally, the death of which she dreamed has come to pass, and she suddenly realizes what she's done. She has indirectly killed a man, and not just any man, but a friend of hers, one of her favorite knights. And then the "obligatory moment," that moment in any story toward which everything before it leads and from which everything after it follows, the moment that the story cannot exist without. Lancelot steps forward, bends down, prays, and he brings Lionel back to life. We see for the first time that his claims of purity, his claims that he can perform miracles are actually true. When he rises, his eyes lock into Guenevere's, and we realize in an instant that they have fallen in love.

Perhaps Guenevere already found him physically attractive (in the novel, Lance is ugly, but in the musical, he's hot). But he's accomplished two things. First, he has saved her from her folly; he has brought back to life the knight her immature schemes had killed. Second, he has fought for her and he has won. He is the greatest knight in the court, probably in all Europe, and she sees now that he loves her, no doubt with the same passion with which he loves Arthur and the Table. How can she resist? As Queen, she should resist, but she won't. And later we will see the difference between Lance and Arthur. Whereas Arthur's love for this Table outshines his love for Guenevere, Lance clearly loves Guenevere more (or at least as much). Following her beautifully crafted arc, it's also interesting to hear how Guenevere's music gets more complex, both melodically and harmonically, over the course of the show, as she matures, as she becomes a more complex individual, and finds herself in progressively more complex situations. "Simple Joys of Maidenhood" is the song of a girl. "I Loved You Once in Silence" in Act II is the song of a woman.

I loved you once in silence, And mis'ry was all I knew; Trying so to keep my love from showing, All the while not knowing You loved me too. Yes, loved me in lonesome silence, Your heart filled with dark despair; Thinking love would flame in you forever, And I'd never, never Know the flame was there. Then one day we cast away our secret longing; The raging tide We held inside Would hold no more. The silence at last was broken; We flung wide our prison door. Ev'ry joyous word of love was spoken, And now there's twice as much grief, Twice the strain for us, Twice the despair, Twice the pain for us As we had known before. And after all had been said, Here we are, my love, Silent once more, And not far, my love, From where we were before.

In other words, be careful what you wish for. Especially if it entails harm to others. Guenevere has grown up now, but it's too late, and events are overtaking her.

Having directed the show myself for New Line in 1999, I'll admit that Camelot is a flawed show, to be sure, but still a very good one. There is so much more richness and nuance than most productions find. And as with most musicals, audiences find it very hard to distinguish between a bad show and a bad production of a good show. As long as some directors (and way too many in NYC) think they can turn their brains off to direct a musical, we'll get bland and shallow productions of shows that deserve better (I'm lookin' at you Casey Nicholaw!). If directors and actors would just pay musicals the same respect they pay to Death of a Salesman and A Midsummer Night's Dream, maybe audiences would get more productions that do justice to the material, and they'd discover that even a show with flaws, like Camelot, can still be serious and powerful and truthful. And that's all audiences want. Just tell them a story that tells the truth. Long Live the Musical! Scott from The Bad Boy of Musical Theatre http://newlinetheatre.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-simple-joys-of-maindenhood.html

[cam-laura]

“Make me an Instrument of Your Peace”: Some Summer Updates

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve written—we’re sorry for that! We have been through a whirlwind of changes of plans and have been holding off on updating until we figure out our next steps. It’s been a crazy journey, but we are so excited for where God is taking us next and feel confident in it (after weeks of praying, discerning and stressing). So—here it goes:

As you know, we spent some time at the L’Abri Fellowship in England from June 1st- June 24th. This was an amazing experience that we are so grateful to have been apart of. Here, we lived with a community of students, families, and volunteers who worked and studied in a manor on the southwestern countryside of England.

We learned a lot through personal study time as we explored the large library at the manor. We also learned from staff through intentional lunch conversations and through lectures. We’ve gained new perspectives on our faith that we will take with us on our continued journey in ministry. Some of these things included learning how to share the gospel through the Old Testament laws, the effect technology has on our faith in everyday practice, having intentional conversation to help each other work through questions in our faith, the impact of prayer, the importance of liturgy in the modern church, how God speaks his truth through creation, art, books, music, and the Bible—and that’s just a few!

If you are interested in hearing lectures from L’Abri, you can access them here: http://www.labri.org/england/. It was here that we once again learned that our Christian faith is an integral part of every stream of our lives—our chores, our mundane tasks, our conversations, our careers, our meals, and even our gardens.

It was about halfway through our time at L’Abri that we realized how important it was for us to be apart of community. We felt that if we were to stay in the U.K until January (which was the 24/7 Prayer program we were hoping to be apart of started) we should make sure we were in a good community rather than hopping from place to place volunteering on farms and B&Bs. We became tired of jumping around from place to place, especially without a solid plan, so it seemed like the best decision to fly home to Canada for a bit and intentionally pray and think about what our next step should be.

We have been staying in Newmarket, ON since July 1st, which has allowed us to visit with family, and be present for some important occasions at home. After praying, talking and envisioning where we believe God has gifted us, we have decided to participate in a 3-month inner city missions school through YWAM Winnipeg, MB called The School of Peace and Justice. Here we will be living in downtown Winnipeg learning about issues of peacemaking, poverty, human trafficking, creation care, hunger and more and how we as Christians are to respond.

Something we are grateful for is that God created us both very compassionate people who have felt called to practical ministry in the city and are excited to learn more about how we can live out our calling as peacemakers. Our theology has been greatly influenced by Jesus’ words, in particular the Beatitudes (in Matthew 5: 3-12).:

3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. 8 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 9 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

The Beatitudes (and the rest of the Sermon on the Mount) are some of the most challenging and amazing words ever spoken. Every day we wrestle with what they mean for how we live. Over this next season we will be learning how to do this through serving in various ministries in downtown Winnipeg, through classroom sessions, and through readings and personal reflections.

As a couple, we are looking forward to surrendering our privilege, wealth, and power in what Catholic priest/author/theologian Henri Nouwen calls ‘downward mobility’:

“Surrounded by so much power, it is very difficult to avoid surrendering to the temptation to seek power like everyone else. But the mystery of our ministry is that we are called to serve not with our power but with our powerlessness. It is through powerlessness that we can enter into solidarity with our fellow human beings, form a community with the weak, and thus reveal the healing, guiding, and sustaining mercy of God. We are called to speak to people not where they have it together but where they are aware of their pain, not where they are in control but where they are trembling and insecure, not where they are self-assured and assertive but where they dare to doubt and raise hard questions; in short, not where they live in the illusion of immortality but where they are ready to face their broken, mortal, and fragile humanity. As followers of Christ, we are sent into the world naked, vulnerable, and weak, and thus we can reach our fellow human beings in their pain and agony and reveal to them the power of God's love and empower them with the power of God's Spirit.”

God has been leading us in this journey one day at a time. We thought we knew exactly what this year of serving and learning was going to look like, but God has changed our plans many times and placed us in a better direction. We are not sure what our long term plans will be once we finish the School of Peace and Justice. We’re confident that God is in control and that the Holy Spirit will be guiding us each step of the way.

Thank you for following us in this journey. We will try to keep this blog updated with text and photos as much as possible over the next season. We will leave you with a prayer attributed to one of our favourite ‘keepers of the faith’, Francis of Assisi, one that God really laid on our hearts in the U.K:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

To learn more about The School of Peace and Justice, visit: http://www.ywamwinnipeg.com/peace-justice-initiatives/