#also I wanted to play around with a simpler shape language than usual but then I went overboard only color my sketch

[ups-sups]

Lex and Grace are some of my favorite hatchetfield characters who happen to be played by the same person, but have wildly different vibes

And so I wanted to find away to shift their features so they don’t look the same as well as convey their individual quirks, but also maintain certain feature they share with Angela

I’m still working on how I want to draw them but I feel like this is a good start

[kembenvs3000w25]

Unit 3

Blog 3 prompt: What role does “privilege” play in nature interpretation? Please include your working definition of privilege

Nature interpretation and what it can look like

Nature interpretation’s goal is to help people connect with the environment around them by taking different nature concepts and turning them into something engaging and conveying. There can be a variety of different roles that can be seen with environmental interpretation, guides for different activities like hiking or wilderness tours, environmental illustrators, museum curators, teachers and many more. We can also look and see some nature interpretation is done via social media platforms, articles, videos and all of these different examples are important to remember when we connected it to the topic of the week which is “privilege” and how it has a play in nature interpretation.

My understanding of the word ‘privilege’

Understanding what privilege is, is a key aspect to answering this prompt. Privilege can be understood as an advantage or extra benefit a person has in a social aspect that they did not earn or attain. Privilege is rooted in many historical events that shapes how societies see’s certain traits and factors a person exhibits such as gender, race, class, physical disabilities, etc.. An example of gender privilege that can often be seen is men may feel safer and less hesitant to walk or move through certain areas at certain times of day versus how often women feel unsafe when alone in certain environments. It is also important to remember just because someone may have a privilege that another doesn’t, does not make one persons life easier than the others. Understanding privilege helps promote fairness and work toward a more just society

How are they connected?  

Now that one has the knowledge of nature interpretation and its different roles as well as a good understanding of the term privilege, we can now connect them to see how privilege affects certain aspects of nature interpretation. Privilege affects how people receive and engage with nature interpretation at we will look at example focusing on privileges such as language, education, and accessibility. For example, language privilege means that those who speak the dominant language fluently can easily understand environmental messages, while others may struggle with technical terms or lack translated materials. Education privilege impacts how well people grasp scientific concepts someone with a strong educational background may connect quickly, while others need simpler explanations or hands-on learning. Physical accessibility is another barrier; nature programs often assume mobility, excluding those with disabilities.

Why does it happen? How can we change?

I think often privilege is not always a first thought when it comes to nature interpretation because it is the message being passed along that is usually the focus. At times one can be wrap up in trying to assure the message is understood and comes across properly but forget that there has to be an audience for message to be passed along too. It should be a goal of all interpreters to want to be able to spread their message to the greatest amount of people without limitations. There are also such a vast amount of different privileges that can be seen for different people around the world it can be hard at times to truly take everything into consideration.

Conclusion

In conclusion to be a great nature interpret it takes thinking about every possible challenge that you may run into when it comes to the obstacle that may arise for certain individuals depending on the types of privileges they may or may not have when it comes to nature.

[iluxia]

Unsolicited writing advice???

A ton of you have commented with such kind and complimentary words about my Naruto fic Hiding in the Leaves and its characterization through the shifting POVs. Thank you all! I’m gratified to hear that you’re enjoying it. Some are asking how I shift perspectives and still manage to keep the characters in line. Actually, a fair number of readers have asked for actual advice, so here we go. This is a lot of writing babble, I hope it makes sense but feel free to drop me an ask if anything is unclear! 

(1) I read a lot. I read all the time. Easily a book a day, maybe two days. And when I do, I practice critical reading—or as they say, reading like an editor, so I can pick at techniques other writers use. Writing is an art you learn largely by example. A lot of what I read influences what and how I write, so when I need to change my tone or voice to fit a different character, I usually read something that matches what I want my prose to sound like, on top of using techniques like changing tenses and playing with vocabulary choices. 

I recently had the chance to flex these writing muscles because I went from writing two very distinct human voices (Tony Stark & Stephen Strange) to writing an alien voice (Loki). It was fucking hard; those in the Marvel fandom might know what I mean. Tony and Stephen are both human, born and raised in America, with specific life experiences that inform their daily decisions and personalities. Loki, on the other hand, is an alien: raised in Asgard, stolen from Jotunheim, well-traveled throughout the Nine Realms, and moreover raised as a prince. Just stop and think about that. When your characters do not have the same experiences that you do, they’re bound to not have the same earthbound concerns that you do. Anthropomorphizing non-human (or even non-living) beings is an age-old practice, but to be faithful to his character, I tried my best to twist my writing voice into a different shape—a shape that more befits the prince of a realm that is somewhat humanoid but very different from what we know on Earth. And in order to do that, I did four things: 

I changed my prose from past to present tense; it sounds more immediate and assertive

I read three books, written in present tense, where the prose mimics what I imagine Loki would sound like in his own head

I made a huge spread of everything about Loki (both canon and my own orginal additions) that would inform his motivations, internal concerns, emotional responses, and decision-making processes

I drowned myself in Loki fanwork

Immersion is key! If you saturate your brain in a specific type of rhetoric or style, that’s what’s likeliest to come out of your productive process at the end. So controlling what you read/watch/listen to will help control your writing style too.

 (2) This further breaks down what I just said in the third bullet point above. Before I start writing from a specific character’s perspective, I’ll take the time to brainstorm and build that character from the ground up. This might take a day or two and includes a staggering amount of detail—just as much detail as mine or your life might comprise. Silly little things like favorite colors and foods, hobbies, dislikes. Oftentimes, if you’re a fic writer, this is easier because canon gives it to you. Those amazing wiki-pages exist to make your life easier in this regard. (Bless.) What canon doesn’t give you is where you can dig in. Go deeper. Pin your character down. Think about more serious considerations like emotional triggers, conscious motivations, subconscious motivations, coping and defense mechanisms. When hurt or under stress, are they the type to lash out or curl in? Are they the type to hold on to a grudge, or do they prefer to forgive and forget? Do they get hurt easily or do they have a thick skin? I imagine the character’s relationships in life, I rank them and network them in my head. Who do they run to when they need advice? Who do they like hanging out with when they’re happy? Who annoys them, who inspires them, who scares them, who do they want to be like? Even if these questions aren’t necessarily things you might discuss in your fic, it helps inform this person you’re writing about, so it helps you keep a clearer and more consistent mental picture of them as you go.

But most critical of all, I sit and imagine myself in their shoes and think of how they perceive themselves. That is a major factor when writing, because that’s what their head-voice will sound like. And if the story is written from their perspective, then that means you, writer, are writing in that head-voice!

Here’s a more HITL-specific example (I’ll try not to spoil too much lol):

Sasuke

How he sees himself:

Ordinary; not very impressive as a shinobi, but not absolutely terrible either – just ordinary

Average looking

A slow, impatient learner

Awkward with people, but polite and with good intentions

Emotionally stable

A good reader and listener

How he actually is from someone else’s POV:

Incredibly skilled for his age and level as a shinobi

Actually quite handsome

An intuitive learner, very tenacious and will keep at a task forever until he gets it just right; perfectionist much

Quiet, polite, notices a lot about how others act

Absolutely does not handle emotions well

Selective listener; sometimes only hears what he wants to hear

Rationales:

He’s surrounded by a clan of perfectionists and overachievers who constantly laud his aniki for being a genius while paying him no attention. Of course he thinks he’s ordinary.

No one ever compliments him for his looks in the clan compound, and what he sees in the mirror looks just like a younger version of everyone around him. Of course he thinks he’s average, even though he actually has looks.

Because he’s largely self-taught (except for when Obaa-sama teaches him), he thinks he’s slow. (Ever learned a new skill or maybe even a new language by yourself? I have. I can tell you that my perception of how much time I spent learning ‘basics’ was skewed.) He also holds himself to a higher than normal standard because that’s what gets him positive attention (or attention at all) within his family. Add the fact that Itachi was there blazing through everything before him, and it’s suddenly easy to understand why Sasuke thinks the worst of himself as a student. But he (and Naruto) are actually fast learners—we see this even in canon—and both of them boast high levels of natural intuition, or as I (the neuroscientist) likes to call it, pattern recognition. Some people are naturally better at this than others; there have been extensive tests done to show it. But we also know intuition can be trained, so the more Sasuke works at something, the better he gets, and the faster he learns the next skill—as long as the learning is patterned. Which is why Orochimaru, who has picked up on this trait, walks them through learning each jutsu in a stepwise manner every time.

Sasuke doesn’t have a lot of social interaction outside of his family. The Uchiha clan in this fic is very segregated from the rest of the village, so if you’re not active as a shinobi, you probably don’t get out of the compound much. Interacting with people probably intimidates Sasuke a lot so he feels awkward about it and reverts back to habits of politeness and silence that he was taught from childhood. That doesn’t mean that he’s not paying attention, however; Sasuke is naturally observant and remembers a lot about how people act (and not so much what they say). I have a theory about this related to the Sharingan but I won’t go into too much here because it would be a straight-up spoiler, sorry. :D

He thinks he’s emotionally stable because he doesn’t remember many incidents of severe emotional upheaval in his life. That’s because he hasn’t had them; apart from the whole thing with Itachi, he’s been fairly sheltered his whole life. But he actually doesn’t handle emotions well—something he’s about to find out soon enough—and for the same reason! He hasn’t been exposed to an extensive range of it.

Because he’s largely self-taught, he has confidence in his reading skills. He also remembers all of Obaa-sama’s stories so he thinks he’s a good listener. Well, he is—to an extent. If he wants to listen, he will. If he doesn’t, he’s just as proficient as Naruto at pigheadedness. (I think it’s an Uchiha trait too lmao.)

That was a lot, right? But you can see that if I’m writing from Sasuke’s POV, I have to keep a different set of pointers than if I’m writing from Naruto’s POV about Sasuke. The way I think of it is like changing lenses or shades depending on the light outside.

A few more techniques/guidelines I use:

Stay consistent with vocabulary. Orochimaru is far more verbose than the rest of them, Shikamaru right behind him, and Naruto uses shorter, simpler words. You can even assign particular words to a character, a word only they would use when referring to something. This applies to how your character addresses other people too, i.e. Orochimaru calls them ‘little ones’; Shikamaru calls his dad ‘oyaji’ in front of his peers but ‘otou-san’ in front of his sensei; Naruto is quick to give people nicknames and most of the time it sticks.

Watch the adjectives; different people describe things differently. Orochimaru uses more nuanced words that can mean different things depending on the situation and mood; Naruto thinks in terms of emotions, a lot of how does this make me feel; Sasuke is very visual and notices a lot of colors.

Use speech habits wisely; how your character talks should reflect their life. Just like accents, speech habits can tell a lot about a person. Sasuke always speaks politely because it’s how he’s supposed to talk at home, otherwise there’d be trouble. Naruto grew up in a poorer district and had no one to really teach him how to talk politely, so he’s very casual. Shikamaru cusses at age eleven because his parents and family are incredibly laissez-faire and honest around him, so he thinks it’s acceptable and normal (and he was never reprimanded for it).

Play with your tenses. Writing in past tense sounds and feels very different from writing in present tense. Depending on your character, one or the other might sound more appropriate. There are some expressions and figures of speech that sound fine when written in past tense but awkward when written in present tense, so that will end up inadvertently changing your prose a bit, which can be useful.

Read your work out loud. Cardinal rule of prose-writing. What looks good on paper doesn’t always sound good when read out loud. If you read it and it doesn’t sound like how your character talks, time for a vibe check. You might need to change a few words and move sentences around, or you might need a complete overhaul… an editor (and I mean an editor, not just a beta-reader) can usually help you out.

 A note about editors vs beta-readers:

There is a cardinal difference! A beta-reader is usually not professionally trained but should be experienced enough to point out things that aren’t right. In fandom, I’ve found that beta-readers mostly focus on a story’s general feel, flow and readability, sometimes character consistency, sometimes they point out typos and mistakes. An editor goes further than that. I’m fortunate to have Tria (aventria) who has edited my work for, gosh, 14 years now, fuck, we’re old! I call her my editor because when she goes through a piece, she will fix everything and make my draft bleed and I love it. (I actually get a little upset when she doesn’t fix anything, even if that means everything was good.) As an editor, she does a vibe check and looks for typos/errors, yes, but she also critiques the prose extensively. She can rearrange phrases or entire paragraphs for better flow. She will cut out entire scenes or make me rewrite them if they’re that bad. Like a copy editor, she looks at stylistic inconsistencies, grammar errors, and iffy word use. She’ll usually suggest or replace the offending word altogether. She has a lot of freedom with the work and can actually kick a piece to the curb if it’s really that shitty. She also questions plot progression, character development, and the relevance of a scene. (She’s made me cut out many, many scenes.) – That all being said, it’s not easy finding an editor, much less a good one. It also has to be someone you trust to have this much power over your work. It’s worth it, however, and my writing has gotten so much better because of the help.

If you’ve read this far, wow, thanks! You’re also probably thinking, “Shit, she takes this too seriously. It’s just a fic.”

I have… gotten into fights in the past before because of this. I feel strongly about the stuff I write. Just because it’s fanfiction doesn’t mean it isn’t a labor of love. I’m a perfectionist by nature, so that’s why I put so much time and effort into what amounts to ‘just a fic.’ And you know what? At the end of the day, writing it gives me satisfaction and happiness, so I will keep pouring into it as much as I can. It’s just a bonus to hear that other people are enjoying it too. (Yes, I’m one of those weirdos who intensely enjoy reading my own work…)

 Aaand the final point:

(3) I double-majored in psychology for undergrad and have by now accumulated thousands of hours of clinical hours spent using the theories and techniques I learned from those classes on real people. I’m also specializing in neuroscience, so a portion of my time is spent in psychiatry. Characterization was actually not one of my writing strengths at first, but I definitely noticed leaps in improvement after my clinical rotation started. People skills are just that: skills which are honed with practice. It’s amazing how much you learn about how people think and what make them tick when you interact with a whole spectrum of examples: from your neurotypical everyday well-adjusted person, to high-functioning neurotics and obsessives, to patients who have suffered complex stroke syndromes, to encephalitic brains burning under septic fevers, to druggies stoned so high they’ve breached the atmosphere, to patients whose brains are growing insidious tumors, to schizophrenics and catatonics and the depressed. My job also allows me the rare opportunity to interact with people from all walks of life. All I need to do if I wanted insight about how life is for soldiers who served in an active warzone, for example, is to hit up Bill at the ICU and ask for stories about Korea and the Gulf and Vietnam. Or if I wanted to know about how to survive the Rwandan genocide, I could sit down with Amida, who survived it as a barely-teenager with her brother and sister in tow while only “losing my innocence and an eye.” Or I could talk to Heather, who is building a life with her husband and two rambunctious children, for a perspective on the daily concerns and delights of a ‘perfectly normal and ordinary’ working mother. (Her words, not mine; Heather is amazing even if she eats the doctor’s lounge out of Tita Annabel’s cookies.) Anyway, you get my point. When I write, I almost always write about people, so it makes sense that a lot of my inspiration comes from people too. A lot of my original characters—and even some that are not—often speak with the voices and inflections of people I know in real life. You probably have people with interesting stories to tell in your life; you just have to work up the courage to ask and take the time to listen. You’d be surprised at what you learn!

A few helpful writing resources: (most of these are classics)

The Elements of Style by Strunk & White

The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman

How to Read a Book by Mortimer Adler and Charles van Doren

And more books that helped me get into people’s heads:

Hallucinations by Dr. Oliver Sacks

The Noonday Demon by Andrew Solomon

Far From the Tree by Andrew Solomon

The Lucifer Effect by Philip Zimbardo

Admirable Evasions by Theodore Dalrymple

I hope you got something out of that. Again, feel free to drop me an ask if you have any questions or want to chat!

[ship-trek]

I would like to know everything about your ships with Spock, Uhura and Bones please!!! KJFEWHKJFW if there's lore or fic I wanna read it and if there's art I wanna see it those three are VERY GOOD (I have a lot of love for TOS) @goldenworldsabound

@goldenworldsabound

!!!! I! Thank you for this lovely ask!! I also have a lot of love for TOS, it was the first Trek I watched and it's always going to have a special place in my heart!!

If you really want to know everything, we're going to be here for a while, so this is going under a cut for length. I should never have been enabled like this. None of them have any fics yet and I can't really draw all that well, so there's no art either, but I'm always happy to ramble about them and call it lore, so here we go!

Ok, as I'm writing down the lore for my ship with Spock, it's becoming a lot longer than I thought it would be - as in it's over 1000 words and we *just* got to Starfleet Academy. I'm going to trim it down a bit to try and get a shorter version and I'll probably turn the rest into a fic. Even with the cuts, though, this is really long. You've been warned.

Once I finish my WIPs with Nerys, I have some plans for some TOS fics, so hopefully my lovely friends will get their fair share of fics soon! I can tag you in any TOS fics I write if you'd like, but of course there's no pressure!

Bones:

I selfship with Bones in the way I do to cope with some specific issues, so lore-wise it's a bit different than my other ships. I don't really have an s/i, it's just me here in our world. He's off on the Enterprise doing all those fun space things, but I can call him whenever I like and he always tries to get back to me as soon as possible if he misses the call at the time. He doesn't miss them often, though - he and I set up a system so I can mark calls as high, mid, or low priority and he'll interrupt almost anything to take a high priority call. I hardly ever use it, but it's nice to know I can reach him if I really need to. And he's amazing to talk to! He's really supportive and always willing to listen to me, and he gives the best hugs :)

I'm actually really excited because he's due back on Earth soon, and he promised to come visit! He can't visit often so every time he does he goes out of his way to make our time together special. It's one of the little ways he shows he really cares about me.

This is a fairly new ship for me, so I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do about Joanna. I'm unlikely to add her as a familial f/o, but we might end up as friends or I might just ignore her entirely. It's my canon now :)

Uhura:

So! I am a massive language nerd. I've been teaching myself both Vulcan and Klingon in addition to studying Latin, Japanese, and Spanish in school at various points. (Yes, Swahili is next on my list. Yes, this is because of Uhura.)

Nyota and I met at Starfleet Academy (more details on how I got there in Spock's lore as both ships use the same s/i) during one of our xenolingustics classes. She seemed super cool, but she had a friend group already, so I ended up being too scared to approach her. I haven't always been the best student, so I got into the habit of taking any extra credit opportunities that came my way. Our xenolinguistics teacher offered extra credit if we went to a presentation being hosted by the xenolingustics club, and I figured I had nothing to lose, so I showed up. Nyota saw me there, recognized me from class, and encouraged me to join the club. She seemed nice and I was free, so I said I'd try it out. I came to a few meetings and we ended up becoming friends!

I was never close with her friend group (we didn't have a lot in common and i just didn't fit their vibe) but she worked hard to make sure we still had time to hang out, and I never felt like she liked me any more or any less than the rest of her friends. How she balanced it all, I don't know. I still think she might be superhuman.

She was a year ahead of me and we ended up falling out of contact a little bit when she graduated. Between her (and later my) assignments, there was just never enough time, and as some of you may know (Sorry!!) my ability to stay in touch with people online is atrocious. We didn't stop talking entirely or stop being friends, but it wasn't until we were both assigned to the Enterprise that we were able to reconnect, and we're even better friends now than we were back then. I didn't exactly figure out who I was, but I grew more comfortable with the process of growing as a person and not having all the answers, and as a result I ended up way more confident in myself and with a lot less self loathing. Turns out, that makes you a lot more fun to be around! I still have a lot of work to do in that area, but I'm a lot better than I was back at the academy.

She and I hang out a lot on the Enterprise, sometimes with Spock or Nurse Chapel and sometimes just the two of us. We sing together, play games, talk in half a dozen languages (just because I don't know them yet doesn't mean my s/i can't!) and just do all those normal fun friend things. Sometimes we even teach or help each other learn new languages (I'm learning a new dialect of Klingon and she's learning Latin). One thing I've always really appreciated about her is the way she handles spontaneity with me - when she wants to hang out or change plans on short notice, she always gives me a really good sense of what she's suggesting we do and gives me the chance to raise any concerns or questions about it before we have to make a decision.

Interesting quirk of our friendship: I can usually be flexible about what we do but really need to know in advance who is going to be there, and she can usually be flexible about who's going to be there as long as she has a good sense of what we're going to do. It took us a little while to figure that out and start warning each other appropriately, but once we did things got a lot better!

It's really a crime that the writers didn't give us more Uhura-centric episodes because there are just so many things I want to know about her! This is also a new-ish ship for me, so the lore isn't quite as finalized as I'd like. If you see me changing things about our ship later, that's why!

Spock:

Ok, important warnings time. My selfship with Spock fills a very particular emotional role for me that causes me to be unusually protective of him and our relationship. I'm aware that this isn't exactly emotionally healthy, and that's something I'm actively working on. Part of the benefit of my ship with him is that he can fill this role rather than me putting it on a real person, which, yeah, wouldn't be great. A lot of this has to do with him putting me first.

To be clear, I view my ship with him as happening in one of many similar but distinct universes (there's a TNG ep I'm thinking of here) that's separate from both canon and other people's ships with him. That's why I say that our s/is probably can't be friends (unless we have some universe crossover stuff going on). I would never want to get in the way of another person's ship with him! And this is the division of things that makes it easiest for me to wholeheartedly support others' ships with him, which is something I very much want to be able to do. (What I'm trying to communicate, badly, is that I want to be clear that I don't view the way he thinks about me as being true anywhere outside of my ship with him.)

I do refer to him as my best friend, the platonic other half of my soul, and other similarly intense terms, which he reciprocates. We also have a minor telepathic bond (I have Headcanons about Vulcan telepathy and no one can stop me from using them). Our relationship really is strictly platonic, but if that's going to make you uncomfortable, the time to stop reading is now! I'm also always happy to work out more detailed tags if needed.

Now! On to the actual ship stuff. I've changed around the lore a little bit recently to be a little truer to the way I've been shipping with him for the past 6-7 years, so hopefully this is the final(ish) lore. There are several moments where if canon says otherwise I simply do not see it. I am looking away. My canon now :)

It's late, later than I should have been out, but I'm too young to know better and too excited to care. My cousins are playing in the sand out ahead of me, but I've had enough of the noise and the people for right now, so I'm doing what I do best: wandering off when I shouldn't. The beach is busy but the nearby hills are quiet, so I start to climb. Even at that age, I hate sand, and the stone staircase is a welcome relief.

I was so focused on the climb to see him and by the time I reach the top, I'm too exhausted to do anything but flop on the ground. As soon as I do that my eyes turn skyward and then I'm too focused on the stars to do much of anything else. Even with the lights around, it's a dazzling display. Most call it science, but to my untrained eyes there's a much simpler word: magic.

Between the exhaustion and the stars, it takes me several minutes to realize I'm not alone. A Vulcan boy I don't recognize is sitting on a bench a few feet away from me, staring at something in his lap and staying very still. I watch him for a while and when he still hasn't moved, I walk closer. He twitches - clearly, he knows I'm here - but keeps his eyes fixed firmly on his PADD. If I were older, I would have gone down the hill and this would have been the end of it.

But I wasn't older. I was young, and dumb, and perhaps most dangerously of all, I was curious. I didn't go down the hill. Instead, I walked up, pulled myself up to sit on the far end of the bench, and asked the question that would end up shaping the rest of our lives:

"Have you ever looked up?"

And he did.

I rambled about the stars and asked about his logic homework, and he watched the stars and patiently answered my questions. By the time we parted ways, I was smiling with his contact information tucked safely into a pocket and he watched my go with the corners of his lips pulled up into that classic Vulcan not-quite-smile.

My mom recognized his name and description as the son of Amanda Grayson, a friend of a friend, and she let me use her PADD to keep in touch with Spock until I was old enough for my own. He turned out to be a few years older than me and a lot of fun to be around with a subtle sense of humor that never failed to make me laugh. We'd hang out in person whenever I went to Vulcan or he came to Earth and we talked almost every day online when we were apart. He was (and is) my best friend, and we saw each other through the highs and lows of growing up. Even when his bullies got really bad and when my school social life went down the drain, we always had each other, and somehow that was enough.

Because of something something Vulcan brain development, the eligible age to apply to Starfleet is 20 rather than 16. (ooc this is my headcanon and I need it for our backstory to work, so shh.) I was certain he would apply for Starfleet Academy the moment he was eligible, and I think his decision to wait for a year shocked everyone. I asked him about it, wondering if there was something wrong. We'd talked for ages about how much he wanted to escape Vulcan, so why wasn't he now that he finally had the chance?

His response? "Not all humans treat me as you do. The bullying is unlikely to change, only its source. If I am to be bullied no matter my path, I will choose the one in which we are together."

I have never felt more honored in my life.

We applied for Starfleet together the next year. His father was devastated displeased that he did not choose the Vulcan Science Academy, my parents were upset that I was moving out so young, and we rolled up to Starfleet Academy as the resident pair of family disappointments. Good times.

The academy was a blast, though. We got to see each other! In person! Every day! I was there to stand up to the people who teased him, he was there to encourage me to make good choices, and we both were there to remind each other that sleep is a necessary biological function not to be ignored. We were both studying science, but he focused on the astrophysics side and I focused more on the biology side, so we didn't share too many classes, but we'd hang out all the time in between classes and we tried to take the same electives when we could. Having similar interests helped a lot on that front.

I was a weird child that had by now grown into a weird teenager, so I didn't have a ton of friends at first. Even when it started directly affecting his social life, Spock was never embarrassed to be seen with me, and though he claims that he would be treated the same without me... I doubt it. Still, though, it helped a lot to have him there, and he's never held it against me.

I did convince him to do a show with me once. He tries to hold that one against me but he had fun and we both know it. Besides, it's my job to drag him into illogical things sometimes :)

We graduated together but like so many close friends are, we were posted to different ships. It was a weird time for us. I was doing great, honestly. I was medicated for my chronic illness (finally!), in therapy (finally!), and I loved my ship and fellow officers. My job was interesting and engaging and I was having a blast. Spock, on the other hand, started to struggle a little bit. Though he always treated me like an equal, I think there was a part of his mind that always thought he was a little bit better than me, and seeing me succeed seemingly effortlessly where he was struggling was hard for him. We got through it, though, and he got some better accommodations (and later a transfer to a ship that fit him better) which made everything a lot better. I even ended up taking some engineering classes and wound up getting a degree in engineering too, just for fun.

Before we knew it, he was the first and science officer of the Enterprise and I was a lieutenant commander working for him. (I say working for him, but really it's a lot more like working alongside him. Most people in the science department assume that if you tell something to one of us and don't specifically say not to tell the other, we will, so you can basically report things to either of us.) I do some work for Scotty too, and Kirk likes to joke that I'm an honorary member of the bridge crew at this point. It was a funny joke right up until I started getting invited to briefings, but hey, who am I to complain?

Serving together is a lot of fun. I'm one of the only people on board who doesn't constantly pressure him to show his emotions, with the result that he is a lot more emotional with me. He knows that I don't view his moments of emotion as a reflection of how Vulcan he is or isn't, so he has nothing to gain by hiding them. Mostly, I don't comment on them, which is his preference.

While we're both happy to offer each other emotional support when needed, most of the time we end up just sitting with each other and letting them process it on their own. Between my emotional regulation issues and his I Am A Vulcan mentality, it's been a great way for us to show each other the support we crave without worrying about finding the perfect words.

Speaking of words, I'm one of very few people on the ship who speaks Vulcan. I actually learned it years ago because of him so we've been speaking it to each other for a while, and we take the Vulcan tendency to drop words to a truly ridiculous extent. Uhura tends to joke that we created our own language somewhere along the line, but it's a fun way to annoy Bones when he really gets on our nerves. He can't even complain about it because as it turns out having the ability to converse in a way no one else understands is very, very useful when a mission goes south. You can't really complain about something that's saved your life, now can you?

The telepathic bond (again, very minor and strictly platonic) came about when he had to meld with me on one such mission gone wrong. It wasn't planned, though we'd talked about it in the past and neither of us was upset by it. Bones tried to joke that our minds were so compatible that we were probably going to start dating now and immediately found himself on the receiving end of two death glares. Credit to him, he never made that joke again. We view each other like family anyway, so yeah. No.

But I like the bond we have! It's nice to know when he's uncomfortable but not saying anything and it's easier for me to tell when he's protesting for effect and really does want to go along with my bizarre illogical scheme and when he'd rather not. As someone with no real sense of social cues or sarcasm, it's a lifesaver. Besides, he's been a lot more comfortable with causal touch between us since it formed, which is great for me.

We also play a lot of D&D together. It's something I got him into but which he took to like a fish to water, and the lengths we go to to avoid scheduling conflicts for our weekly game night are probably a bit excessive, shall we say, but it helps that all the friends we'd normally have conflicts with end up getting invited too. He very rarely DMs, but when he does, you better hope someone in your party has a decent intelligence stat because his puzzles are amazing. Seriously, I don't think you've really played a puzzle based game of D&D until you've played one of his. Works of art, I tell you.

I could go on about him for hours, but I'll wrap it up here for time and length's sake. If you have any more specific questions, I think I've already effectively demonstrated that I'm incapable of shutting up about him!

[avalon987]

The river

A story which is part of a collection

https://payhip.com/AVALONCOLEHIVE

Punjab

India

1710

Priti liked to discover the infinite possibilities of the nature around her when she was a young girl.

She particularly liked to climb the trees.

But her favourite activity was to swim in the nearby river.  

She loved to let her body drift with the current.

Priti also liked to watch the reflections of the sun on the surface of the water forming myriads of diamond like shapes.

It was her happiest moment.

But now, she was forty year old just recently widowed.

She loved her husband dearly. She felt totally lost. They did not have children because she was infertile, but they took care of many of them in the village like they were their own.

She decided that she would leave her house.

Priti wanted go back to nature to live a simpler life.

Most people thought that she became mad after her husband’s death.

She built a hut near the river she loved when she was a child, with the branches she found around it.

She would only devote her time to meditate and to pray. She wanted to experience her deepest truth. She laughed all the time very loudly.

Priti liked to watch the birds elaborating their nest. The ballet of all the insects in the air around her was a great source of joy.

Sometimes, some people that she took care when they were children came to visit to check on her.

Priti was so radiant that they thought that she had found comfort by living in the middle of the wilderness.

She had the habit of talking to the people who came to see her of what inspired her at the moment; strangely they felt better and more relaxed afterwards.

More and more people turned out.

Some of them thought that she could heal many illnesses only if you talked to her.

Priti listened intensely. She always gave some piece of wisdom or advice to her visitors.

Her reputation grew in the region.

She became the sage that all types of persons came to consult.

One day a dignitary named Sanjal from the court of the maharajah arrived.

He suffered from chronic headaches, and all the doctors he had consulted before could not help him

“Just listen to your body and you will find the answers.” Priti said to him.

“what do you mean?” said Sanjal.

“Listen to what your headaches want to tell you, they come to help you, and when you do that, they will disappear.” said Priti.

Sanjal was not impressed by Priti. He left her disappointed.

The following night, Sanjal had a dream about the maharajah’ son who was in grave danger.  He was there to protect him and to save him from death.

Sanjal woke up with a massive headache.

He thought about what Priti told him, and strangely his headache lowered in intensity.

Sanjal went back to see her and told her about his dream.

“Now, you know what to do, if you listen everything will be fine.” said Priti

When Sanjal left Priti, he felt more alive.

He had better sense of his higher purpose.

He went to the court where he was an advisor to the maharajah, and he told him his concerns about the prince, but the maharajah did not listen dismissing it as superstition.

During the same period, the wife of a rival ruler who fought against the maharajah went to visit Priti.

She just lost her husband who had been killed by the maharajah during the battle.

“Until you forgive, you won’t be free.” said Priti to the lady.

“Suffering it’s only an illusion created by the mind.”added Priti.

When the maharajah died, his son succeeded him,

but he was too young to rule without guidance because he was only twelve year old.

One day while he was playing in the palace garden, a very venomous snake came at an extremely close distance to him being very menacing.

Sanjal, who was near,  rushed to rescue the young king, and he chopped the snake’s head off.

Since that day, Sanjal became a close confident and the main advisor of the new maharajah.

He advised him to always carry a weapon with him. Sanjal noticed that some people in the palace looked more agitated than usual since his father’s death.

Not long after, a group of men wanted to overthrow the young king in a coup. They tried to kill him, but because he was always armed and on his guard, he defeated them with the help of other guards.

He thanked Sanjal for his advice.

Sanjal went to see Priti to tell her that his chronic headaches stopped.

“you see, when you open your heart, everything starts to flow and makes your life better.”said Priti

After many years, the widow of the rival of the maharajah’s father who came to see Priti a long time ago thought that it was time to forgive.  

She decided to marry her daughter to the new king to form an alliance among the Sikh people.

The new maharajah, who had been nourished by long discussions he had with Sanjal during these years,  considered that all the new territories he could conquer would enjoy more religious freedom even though he wanted to become the leader of the Sikh people. When the opportunity to take back the city that the Afghan kings administered, he decided to do what no other maharajah had done before: he conquered it following the advice his mother in law gave him.  

He formed what would be later called the Sikh empire.

Sanjal assisted the best he could his king during his reign but now he was older. He wanted to go a different route. The different conquests had been very demanding.

The maharajah thanked him for his services.

He wished him good luck.

Sanjal went to visit Priti to decide what he would do next.

“How do you look so young and radiant?” Sanjal asked.

“You remember what I told you a long time ago, the key is to be attentive and to listen.” said Priti.

Sanjal pondered upon these words. He decided that he wanted to travel. He would meet different spiritual teachers to listen to what they had to say.

He started to go all over the Indian peninsula.

During this period, the situation was very chaotic and dangerous, but Sanjal was determined to do it.

He visited temples, mosques and gurus.

He was still not satisfied by what he heard.

The next step for him was to go abroad to meet different masters.

Sanjal went to Jerusalem, Egypt, Rome, Paris and London.

His journey took him three years to complete.

Upon his return, Sanjal enquired to know if Priti was still alive. He found her like usually under her favourite tree next to the river.

“I’m so happy to see you, and I’m glad you still remember to come to see me.” said Priti.

“I travelled extensively the last years, I went over to many countries, and I heard so many languages.

I listened to a plethora of teachers but I still feel empty and I yearn for more knowledge in the dusk of my life.” said Sanjal.

“Give me your hand, let’s go to have a swim in the river.” said Priti.

“Oh my dear friend, I am too old for that!” answered Sanjal.

“If not for a swim, let’s go only to knee-deep.” said Priti.

Sanjal followed her to the river

“Take water in your hand, and feel it between your fingers. Without water, life would not be possible but sometimes water can cause harm. It’s just a possibility. Water is energy. Think of all the good you did in your existence, all the mistakes you made, and all the people you touched by your actions.

Like water you are energy. Water does not look for fulfilment, it’s just a source of creation. Like water you play your part, and for that I’m extremely grateful to have known you” said Priti.

[loserholland]

𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞

𝟎𝟏𝟒 ➺ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫

Pairing ➺  Ceo playboy!Ben Hardy x Reader

Warning ➺ flashbacks and sad benny boy ):

Word Count ➺ 2,428

Summary ➺ An arranged marriage between two polar opposites.

A/N ➺ Two more chapters and the series will be complete! I will be doing a thank you/q&a video once I’m done writing the series, so if you have questions please send them in! They don’t have to be Elite related questions!

Send me your thoughts, feelings, everything! It makes me day/night!

Also send me your theories! Love reading them! TEEHEHHEH

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ -  @hollandfieldblurbs , @beerbottlesandchainsaws @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine​, @spideyyypeter

❁ 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❁ - @financialinstability, @magicwithaknife , @xrumkugelx , @rogertaylorsblondhair, @virtualsheepeat, @hollyissuchahoe , @yourkindabrainy-ilikeit, @fsociety00da1, @lee-519 , @2ptonpt, @sherlokiantheatrenerd , @local-radical-bandit , @calumfornicationx , @softcillian, @kittysblog14 , @peach-barnes , @prettyoddbarnes  , @spideyyypeter, @adepressedstudentslife , @wowza-bowza , @stilesneedsprotection , @anamcg317 , @indescribxbl , @heinz-doofenshmirtz-official , @loveofmylifeben , @captainxmoony , @whateverbakesyourcake , @waving-thru-a-window , @benhrdy , @beerbottlesandchainsaws , @frietjemeloen , @kirket03 , @emmieliabedelia , @sabbrriiinnaa , @justinemayi , @bummmblebeee , @wolverinesbeer , @allieburakovsky , @chocolatekisses8 @i-the-fangirl, @secretsweetscollectionblog, @ksqueenie

☞  Masterlist  ☜

"𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝. 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."

Two Years.

Two wonderful, eventful years.

Filled with heartbreak and sorrow, forgiveness and life lessons. Two years since she last saw Ben, two years since Presley apologized and well since her father apologized. She was able to forgive one out of the three people, that’s a given. She was happy, the business was better than ever and well she was doing so much better letting go of the past.

Ben however, the past two years passed by ever so slowly. He dreaded everyday, he missed flying to New York in July spending half the rest of his year in sunny humid New York with his lover. Alexa had taken the responsibility to keep the company afloat, all the meetings Ben would dismiss she’d sit through and the papers that were suppose to be signed by Ben, she’d have to sign it.

It was safe to say Alexa was beyond annoyed with her son’s behavior, yes she pitted him, but she also knew it was his fault, it was his choice that made him lose (Y/N). The one girl she truly thought could bring her son happiness, instead he brought her pain and sadness. He has all the rights to mop and hide out in the lonely house that would once be his and (Y/N) house, but it’s been two years and he still hasn’t fully recovered.

“Benjamin, you need to get back to work.” Alexa moved around the master bedroom collecting the empty beer bottles into a garbage bag along with empty cigarette cartons that were scattered around the dark room.

Ben stared blankly at his mother sighing lightly as the sound of glass clinked together echoed through the room, “I’ll come back when I want to.” his mother dropped the bag filled with bottles and cartons turning around to glare at her son who sat against the headboard of his bed.

“Alright young man, listen to me. You broke her heart. It was the choice you made that made things end up this way, think about it. You and (Y/N) could be celebrating your two year anniversary! Yet here we are.”

She didn’t want to hurt her son’s feelings, she didn’t want to add on to the sadness he felt but it had to be said and done. He needed to collect himself and move onto the next chapter in his life.

“Listen to me Benjamin, if two people are meant to be together eventually they’ll find their way back. If (Y/N) finds her way back to you, don’t take it for granted.”

It would be a lie to say he never went back to New York in the past two years, he wanted to go to her office, he wanted to see her and apologize yet he never found the courage to do it. He’d just sit in his car as his chauffeur would question if this is the right place and all Ben would say is “Bring me back to the hotel.”

He thought if he didn’t show up, she’d be happier. Her life would be simpler. All he wanted was for her to be happy, even if that meant finding someone else.

(Y/N) slipped her coat on and grabbed her phone and wallet, wanting nothing more than a walk around central park after such a hectic day at the office, a busy morning with back to back meetings, stacks of papers to go over and sign.

It’s been a while since she could find time to go for a small walk to relief the stress she felt, the park was a bit empty and quiet no one wanted to walk around the in the cold weather. She took a deep breath in and out continuing along the path admiring the trees that were kissed with freshly fallen snow, the satisfying crunch the snow made once the sole of her boot came in contact with the sheet of white.

“It’s so beautiful, calming isn’t it?” (Y/N) looked up at Ben taking the beanie that hid his blond hair and placed it on her head, he pouted slightly wanting it back to keep his head warm “Hey! You have a hood on your jacket!” she stepped back standing a few feet away from her fiancée. 

It was a few days away from New year’s eve, central park was empty the streets of New York filled with yelling and honking. She reached down taking some snow and shaped it into a sphere before throwing it at Ben who stood there stunned for a moment before taking some snow into his hands. 

“So that’s how you’re gonna play, alright.”

She smiled at the warm memory, it’s been so long since she’s heard from him. There were times when she laid in bed at night her thumb hovered over his contact unsure if she should call him or just go to bed. There were nights when all she wanted was to be in his arms, she wanted him to be there when she got home after such a long day. She missed him. She missed everything about him, there was no denying the fact that after two years her life still felt so what incomplete. 

Before she headed back to the office, she stopped by a small cafe for a cup of hot chocolate perfect way to end her little break. The cafe she was headed too held many memories she shared with Ben, le petit cafe. Ben would talk about how they’d start their honeymoon off in Paris then go to Tahiti or Bora Bora, if only there was a time machine to go back to that day and to just live through it again. 

“You know a little french right?” Ben questioned as he held his mug of hot chocolate waiting for it to cool down as he admired the woman who sat across him, the woman who held many talents and intelligence. He hoped that their kids would have her smarts and looks.

“Oui, pourqoui?” (Y/N) answered, she knew more than a little french. She had been learning the language since she was in elementary wanting nothing more than to go to Paris and live like the Parisians, one day she hoped when she retires and her kids have left the nest she’d buy a house in Paris. 

Ben sipped on his hot chocolate the whip cream made a small mustache causing (Y/N) stifle back her laugh, “You are such a child Benjamin Hardy.” she shook her head lightly as he leaned forward with his lips puckered “Hm, maybe our kids will have my attitude and they’ll have your smarts and beauty.” ah kids, they never really had a conversation about kids. She’d love to have them.

“Well, we should get going. I wanna get some chinese food before we head back.” Odd now that she thought back to this day, how she danced around the topic of children instead of changing the subject. In times when she felt nervous or awkward she’d change the subject, dance around it and avoid it as much as possible till she was confronted about it. 

“Welcome in, what could I get you?” the worker asked behind the counter with a warm smile watching (Y/N) eye scan the menu briefly. 

“May I get a medium hot chocolate and a chocolate muffin.” after she had her order taken she sat along side one of the chairs near the pick up counter, her eyes fixed onto her phone screen as she checked the emails she had gotten in the past hour or so opening some to respond back and other’s were ignored. 

The door opened sending in a small cool breeze not cold enough to bring her attention to the door as she kept it fixed on responding back to the email she had opened. The noise in the cafe slowly began to drain out till the sound of her name was called, signaling her order was ready. 

“(Y/N)?” a voice questioned causing her brows to pinch in confusion turning her attention to the stranger, “Yes?” the person held a familiar face yet she couldn’t pin point who it was. Usually if she encountered an old classmate who she never knew the name of she’d smile and nod and just go along with what he or she said. 

Once the stranger received his change he walked closer to her standing a few inches away with a small smile on his face, “It’s Ryan.” the moment those words left her lips, her entire body felt numb she didn’t notice she had dropped her packaged muffin. It’s been twelve years since she last saw him, that night he came home with Presley. Ever since that night she avoided him as much as possible, not daring to look in his direction or cross paths. 

Now here they sat across one another in awkward silence. She had noticed the wedding band on his finger, that was the first thing that caught her eye well beside the fact that he grew up to be even more handsome. He had also found someone to spend the rest of his life with. 

“How long have you been married?” 

“A year.” 

If she had married Ben, they would’ve been married for two years. Funny how time works.

“I thought you were engaged?” 

A questioned that was asked ever too frequently. 

“Yes, but I-I called it off.”

Simple answer that would earn a nod from anyone who questioned what had happened to the beautiful ring on her finger, a question that made her heart clench. Ben on the other hand, he’d be completely honest. A little too honest.

“What happened to the wedding?” “Where’s (Y/N)?” “What went wrong?”

He’d sit there in silence for a moment, thinking of a way to address the question but instead he’d say “Well I cheated on her with my ex, who turned out to be lying about her identity and turned out to be her sister. I lost the one person who was the light in my life, the one love I never thought I could have. So yeah I cheated on her with her bloody sister.” 

Ryan smiled lightly placing his hand atop of her’s “You’ll find your special someone soon.” just then his phone began to rang he brought it out of his pocket as the name Brooklyn flashed across the screen, it must be his wife. 

“I should get going, we should catch up sometime!” 

(Y/N) nodded collecting her belongings as she exited with Ryan, she gave him a small hug before departing back to her office. What if her special someone was already found? What if her special someone was living 3,459 miles away? What if that special someone cheated on her but she still loved him?

Ben sat behind his desk a piece of paper in front of him with a pen in his hand. 

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 (𝘠/𝘕),

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮. 𝘚𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘉𝘶𝘵, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵.  𝘐 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺. 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩.

-𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘑𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴

(Y/N) entered the office bidding her workers a good afternoon, as she approached her office Vivian stopped her and handed her an envelope. 

“It came in when you were out.” 

She nodded, shutting the door to her office removing her coat and placed it on the jacket rack placing her drink and muffin onto her desk as she opened the envelope. Her eyes scanned the folded paper slowly she began to read it, “Dear (Y/N), pretty sure I’m the last person..” 

(Y/N) unfolded the letter entirely continuing to read the letter that was written by the person she’s been thinking a lot about lately. She took a sit behind her desk as she read the letter, fresh salty tears blurred her vision as she let out a shaky breath her free hand clutched against her chest. After two years, he was the first person to make some kind of move. He had sent a letter.

She brushed the tears away and leaned back into her chair slowly collecting herself. This would be a perfect time to call him, to talk to him after all he had sent her a letter. She wanted nothing more than to hear his voice.

Hesitantly her thumb hovered over his contact, this memory felt ever so familiar. Something she’d do late nights when it’s been a long day and all she wanted to do was rant to Ben and talk about anything and everything. He had made the first move, now it was her turn to return the favor. He still loved her and believes he doesn’t deserve her love or forgiveness. Before she knew it, the line began to ring she didn’t remember pressing on the call icon or bringing her phone to her ear. It was as if it happened in slow motion, her breath caught in her throat as her blood ran cold. 

Ben groaned looking over at the night stand to see who was disrupting his slumber, he lifted his head from the soft cold pillow slowly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to read the bright screen. His heart stopped, maybe he was dreaming.

“H-hello?”

The sound of her voice, the angelic voice he hadn’t heard for two years. Maybe he was in heaven.

“(Y/N)?” 

[noahstilinski]

Betwitched - Stiles Stilinski

Sorry this one took a while to post, I had to do some research about paganism! I’m not an expert so sorry if I misrepresented it! Also, I read charm as like a piece of jewelry or smth, sorry again if I misunderstood the meaning (english is not my first language)

Hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Requested: Yes

Prompt:  Hey, submitting a request! I’m 25, pagan and do a lot of spells, charms and herb-based work, in the woods, so maybe the reader is an apprentice for Deaton or a solo witch? And Derek or Stiles find out about her somehow, (find one of her charms in the woods?). I think they’d either be really suspicious, or try and befriend her, or be really curious about learning with her. Thanks!

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Word count: 1650

Warnings: Idk

"Where did you find that?"

Stiles blinked several times at the sudden question, not sure exactly what Deaton was talking about until he traced his glance to the charm dangling from his pocket. He hurried to take it out and hand it out to Deaton for examination. "Yeah about that, I found it when Scott took off and left me alone in the woods" Stiles glared at his best friend, who gave him a sheepish apologies shrug. "Do you know what it is?" He knew it wasn't just some jewelry. The charm had a weird shape, one you don't usually see in gift shop crap or mainstream designs. That, and the fact that he found it just beside what he thought to be a makeshift temple. It had caught Stiles' eye, and he preferred making sure it wasn't some cursed relic or anything. 

"It's a charm belonging to... A student of mine, per say" Deaton began as the boys exchanged questioning glances. "This one specifically helps channeling the earth's power for benevolent spells"

"Bene-- What is this? Witchcraft 101?"  "No" He replied calmly. "It's paganism. It's close to druidism. Not quite the same, but we have some characteristic in common" "So who does it belong to?" Scott finally spoke. "Do we know them?" "Maybe. She does go to Beacon Hills High" Deaton said, shifting his glance to the young alpha. "Her name is (Y/N)" /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/ "Hey, (Y/N), wait up!" You furrowed your eyebrows and turned around at the unfamiliar voice calling your name. You watched as a tall, dark haired boy jogged up to you and matched his walking pace to yours.  "You probably don't know me. Or maybe you do, not that I'm assuming you might but--" He paused his rambling when he noticed your raised eyebrow. It was kind of cute, you thought. "Anyway. I'm Stiles"  "I'd introduce myself too, but it seems like you already know my name" You gave him a smile.  "Right" He muttered to himself. "So uh, I kinda found something belonging to you, or so I was told. Here" He reached in his pocket and handed you the charm you had lost in the forest a couple of days ago, when you got caught by the rain and had to leave in a hurry. You grabbed it from him and looked up with wide eyes, clueless as to how he found it and especially how he knew it was yours. "W-Where did you find this?" You asked with a stutter. "How did--" "Hey, I found it totally by accident" He held your arms up in surrender. "And Deaton told me it was yours. I'm not an evil wizard that can trace back possessions to its owner, I swear" You could only blink at the rapidity of the words that came out of his mouth. You went from panicked, to confused and finally to baffled. You had known this boy for a minute and he made no sense to you. Why was he that far in the woods? From where did he know Deaton enough that he entrusted him with your charm? Why would being a wizard was his best alternative explanation? "Uh" You huffed. "Thanks" "You're welcome" He smiled widely, but then it dropped. "I'm not gonna be cursed or hexed for touching it without your blessing, right?" Your first reaction was to laugh. Loudly. It turned heads to your direction, and Stiles sent them awkward waves until it died down.  "Oh god" You clutched your stomach. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?" "I don't know" He shrugged. "You're the witch... Bewitching things. I think" "I think you've got it wrong" You said, a smile remaining on your lips. You had concluded that this boy was not a threat to your secret, and was probably aware of the supernatural by how he dealt so easily--absurdly but easily--with your occupation. "I'm more of a close to nature type of person. I'm not doing actual magic, not like you're thinking" "Huh, good to know I guess" He scratched the back of his neck. He kept walking beside you, like he didn't want to leave just yet. Again, you found him weird, but strangely endearing.  You were curious about him. "... Would you like to see how it works?" You suggested, and he almost jumped in surprise at the offer.  "You'd do that?" He asked, now walking backwards to face you. "Yeah" You half shrugged with a small smile. "I've got a free period right now, and obviously either you're late to class or you have one too" "Observant" He pointed a finger in your direction. "I do have a free period. Let's go" You walked out of the school and crossed the field toward the woods, and only stopped when you were sure you wouldn't be disturbed. You slid your backpack in your hands and sat down on a patch of dry grass. Stiles sat down in front of you, sending you a curious glance. "Why are you trusting me that easily?" His eyes narrowed momentarily as an obvious wave of doubt washed over him. "Well, Deaton obviously trusts you enough to bring my charm back to me" You replied. "How did you even come to meet Deaton?" "Oh, that's a long one" He sighed, leaning back on his hands. "Actually, not that long. Perhaps complicated. Yeah. Not my secret to tell, but long story short, I know too much werewolves and a dark druid pissed me off" "Wow" You blinked a few times at that roller coaster. "I see how Deaton comes to play here" "Yeah" He nodded. "So you're his student?" "Not quite" You said as you reached for some more charms in your backpack. "He helped me with the basics, and guides me from time to time, but our practice differs too much from one another to hold lessons on the regular" "I see" He hummed. "So. How does this all works?" "Well, you see these charms?" You pointed at the four that were lying on the ground in front of you. "Each one represents an element of nature I can draw strength from. I don't have them all here, and I don't have my herbs either, but I still can cast simpler spells with what I've got" "So basically, your environment becomes a source of power, right?" He asked. "Exactly" You nodded. "I can do multiple kinds of spells, but I prefer to stay on the positive side of the spectrum. You know, good fortune and luck spells, spells to end pain. Even protection spells at large scale, but these require more material" "That's awesome" He smiled. "Can you do any right now?" "Of course, it'll even be with the charm you brought me back" You grinned at him as you put back the rest of your charms in your backpack, not to forget them this time. You then drew a construct in the small patch of dirt in between you and Stiles, then grabbed the charm in both of your hands. "This is a strength spell. I will call upon the earth to assist you in times of hardship and give you the power to overcome difficulties. You ready?" He only nodded, not taking his eyes off the construct. You closed your eyes and muttered the first part of the spell, then placed the charm in the middle of the construct. You offered your hands to Stiles, and it took his a second to understand he had to take them.  You chanted the last part of the spell louder, eyes closed and feeling the subtle power of nature take over. Then, it ended and you brought your hands back to you. "All done" You smiled at him. "Alright, this felt weird" He admitted. "Is it normal? Like is it supposed to happen?" "Yes and no" You answered. "Some people might not feel anything, others do. It depends how sensitive to the supernatural you are, and I can only guess you are more than the average" "Is this good or bad?" He seemed worried for a second. "Again, it depends on you" You shrugged. "In your situation, I'd say good. Since you are apparently surrounded by the supernatural, it gives you an edge to understand and anticipate it without being a part of it" "Uh, I guess that explains a lot" He mumbled to himself. "Well, uh, thanks. This is interesting. I mean, really, that's like, totally awesome" "I could show you more spells, if you'd like" You offered as you gently erased the construct from the soil with your hand. "When I have access to all of my stuff, of course" "Seriously?" He perked up at that.  "Yeah" You smiled widely as you stood up. You didn't think he'd be that interested, and his enthusiasm was cute. You certainly looked forward seeing him around again. "Here, text me when you have some free time" You handed him your phone so he could save your number in his. When he gave it back, you walked side by side toward the school again. You made small talk; you learned he was the Sheriff's son, that you had no classes in common and that he was on the lacrosse team. You found out he had quite the sense of humour, and he seemed a pretty smart guy.  He also told you Stiles wasn't his real name, but that he preferred it because it was way less complicated that way for everyone.  "Hey um, it was nice hanging out with you" You said as you paused in from of the staircase when you got back inside the school.  "Yeah, it was" He smiled, and it illuminated his eyes. You definitely liked his smile, you decided. "See you around?" "You have my number" You winked, watching him wave and walk away. You couldn't wait to see him again.

[chrislascl]

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If you want to learn more about this cool new program, check out my blog where I have listed a number of screen shots and a short description about how to use it. If you are looking for a unique new and interesting way to express yourself, or share your ideas, stickman animation can help you do just that. Stickman Animator is a unique new program that let you quickly and easily create and animated stick figures, and unlike many other apps, this app lets you make animations very quickly, simply move a stick to a desired location on screen and then move up or down the screen to move the stick, without having to do every single step over again.

[vaporwave-vampire]

for valeri and lazar 🎤 🔥🐇💐🌵💉🃏 :3cc

Valeri

🎤 Do they play any instruments?

He doesn’t in the canon, but he loves listening to people playing!! I think Bakir regularly played a flute-like instrument for him maybe he taught him a few notes as well

🔥 What’s their favorite candle scent?

Probably some fresh-cut roses or pine scent

🐇 What animal would they say best represents them?

Minor epauletted bat or Sphynx cat in a sweater

💐 Do they collect anything? What’s their most prized possession?

Valeri doesn’t really collect anything out of pragmatism and the fact that there’s not much to collect where he lives. His most prized possession is a crucifix that hangs on a wall in his living room as well as his old bible that also lays around somewhere in his living room. In a modern setting Valeri would probably collect some dumb shit like porcelain dishes or blankets because he’s a sentimental bitch 

🌵 What languages do they speak?

Latin & Old east Slavic

💉 Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?

Valeri would definitely represent Envy, because he’s the only one you should pay attention to!! Play with him and tell him stories!! Humility would be his virtue, because even though he demands attention he knows that he’s little more than a long bat…

🃏 If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, what would it be?

Tbh I have no idea about tarot cards so buckle up his is gonna be awful!!! Valeri would probably be the fool, because that’s just .. who he is dkfl No but he’s nothing more than his needs and urges and is also poor as dirt .. but the star would also fit him since he just wants to go back to his roots and forgot everything that happened .. be closer to god 

Lazar

🎤 Do they play any instruments?

Lazar tried to learn a few instruments because of the ~drama~ He can read notes and could probably pick up instruments if he wanted to. However since he never really committed to learning because he’s lazy he can’t really play any hahaWhen he lives his simplerer farmer life he finally gets good at a string instrument and plays sorrow tunes on his balcony 

🔥 What’s their favorite candle scent?

Lazar wouldn’t like modern scented candles at all since he feels like they smell synthetic and are just too much for his nose. He likes the smell of burning wood/fireplaces and earth or mud though

🐇 What animal would they say best represents them?

Silver-Haired Boyfriend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

💐 Do they collect anything? What’s their most prized possession?

Lazar collects so much what the fuck!!! He likes having lots of different stuff because he gets bored easily and isn’t really attached to any of it

Anyway he collects pelts because they’re soft and it feels nice being cuddled up in them. By now Esther probably made 1000 painted portraits of him, him holding bats or just bats and he still has them all neatly stored away. When he lives as a farmer he has this weird affirmation for potatoes.. he can’t eat them but it’s strangely satisfying to hold them and look at their different shapesHe also collects knifes and bones, he’s an old vampire what did you expect,, 

🌵 What languages do they speak?

Old & middle high German, many dialects of old east Slavic, Latin, ancient Greek and after a while he probably learns one or two more modern dialects/languages before he meets Alistair (around the time the story starts)

💉 Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?

O-oh no Lazar at the beginning of the story could probably represent lots of deadly sins,, let’s see: Definitely Pride because he’s an ancient original vampire and that makes him ~cool~ he’s also fashionable. Lust because he needs a boyfriend (or several) at all times for the validation. And Wrath because he’s very short tempered. I don’t think he’d directly represent a virtue maybe Diligence.. mmmaybe..

After a few hundred years in (around farmlife Lazar lmao) he still takes pride in him being a cool fashionable vampire (and being able to grow crops), but that’s the only sin he’d represent. Though he isn’t free of sin™ he’d more likely represent Humility since he abandoned his title and wealth, Temperance since he leaves in peace with the adjacent village and guides travelers and Diligence since he takes his work very seriously! Maybe also Patience but that’s more from having all the time in the world haha

🃏 If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, what would it be?

Again I have no idea what I’m doing please don’t lynch meBy looking at Lazar you’d probably guess either Devil or Emperor, but his character is actually much more than angry hissing from a throne!! Wheel of fortune and Two of Wands would probably represent him the best. He’s been alive for an awful long time and feels like his life is just..monotone and all changes will lead him back to where he was and that’s how it’ll stay forever. There’s no goal, no meaning behind a cycle of fulfilling his desires. Still there’s something that wants to try to break free from that, but it’s usually being blocked by his pride and doesn’t really show itself until he loses Valeri

oc questions

[jawnkeets]

hello sorry to disturb you lovely person but i was wondering if you had some advices to have a better literary analysis, or a better culture well, i mean how can i improve my literary intelligence basically ? ( it may not be really clear but i hope you'll understand because i feel like i'm lost... )

hello anon! no need to be sorry, ur not disturbing me at all :+) feel free 2 send an ask at any time ✨✨✨

i’ll attempt to answer this by splitting ur ask into 2 parts. first i’ll try to give some tips on literary analysis, and then i’ll try to talk about the sort of wider awareness of lit (or the culture as you call it).

a little disclaimer: pls bear in mind that i am by no means qualified to speak about this in any way (i still very much consider myself a learner). i’ve generally been left alone throughout my education to do my own thing, which is a good thing in some respects and a bad thing in others; i don’t have the solid foundations that most ppl do, never following things like paragraph structures throughout lower school, and i didn’t know a thing about metre until the start of this month. however, because of my education i think i’ve managed to avoid a few conventional pitfalls. so, in short, you can take as much or as little of this advice as you like!

PART 1: literary analysis

• an excellent way to boost your analysis straight away, dull as it is, is to learn some literary devices beyond, say, alliteration and personification. being able to spot things like chiasmus and epiphora not only wows an examiner, but also enables you to talk about more things within a poem/ book/ play and thus broadens your literary scope in close reading.• remember that for each literary device you mention you should say what it REVEALS (DO NOT just list!!!). the best essays move from a literary device to an explanation of why this device is used - what does it reveal about a character, the speaker, or even the society that the poet or author was writing in?• rhythm and meter in a poem tick boxes in an exam, but can also lead to insightful analysis. how do the rhythm and meter add to the overall message of the poem? does, for example, the metre give a regularity to the poem? why might this be? is it broken at any point? how is this significant?• the above can be applied to rhyme scheme, too. look out for rhyming couplets at the end of a poem, which may give a sense of finality to the poem (or may seem to give a sense of finality when in actuality the speaker of the poem is far from decisive…).• it is important to remember that a particular rhyme scheme (or metre) doesn’t ALWAYS mean anything; it can mean different things in different poems, so instead of applying a ready-made formula, try to go into the exam knowing how to identify these aspects of a poem and then try to work out why you think the poet has used them in that particular poem. flexibility is key, which can be daunting but also somewhat liberating.• i personally find a ‘scribble method’ quite useful. this is where, when first approaching a piece of writing, you write down everything that comes into your head, regardless of how messy, or how basic. you then sort through your ideas, expanding upon what you think is worthwhile and discarding what you think is not. this method is generally more handy when not under time pressure, though, as it can get you into a muddle in the exam.• start simple and build up. it can be tempting to jump straight in but sometimes when you start simply new things can reveal themselves as you work your way up into more complex ideas! • perspective is extremely useful to consider. who is speaking and why? are they biased or objective? who are they speaking to and why?

unseen exam tips

• in an exam, i would approach a poetry or prose extract first by simply reading it, and trying to find out what it is about. then i would go through and highlight words/ phrases of interest, and label literary devices. finally, i would go through it again and build the main analysis. a brief paragraph plan can be useful before writing the essay.• acronyms can help sometimes as a go-to in an exam when you don’t have much time. for example, i use CFTTSOL - content (basic story, characters, who is speaking and why etc) form (poetry, prose, drama etc), tense (past/ present etc), tone (happy, sad, why? is the tone at odds with the subject matter? in emily dickinson’s ‘because i could not stop for death’, for example, the poem is about something dark but it is very jolly), structure/ syntax (rhyme, caesura, enjambment, any disrupted syntax, etc) other (anything not mentioned in the rest of the categories) and language (similes, metaphors, assonance, etc). i would recommend finding one that works for YOU and makes sense for YOU, because creating your own can really help to ease you into analysis.

PART 2: literary awareness

• read, read, read! i cannot stress the importance of wider reading enough, and also the importance of thinking whilst you read (making notes/ annotating books whilst you read is advisable). i am speaking from experience here - i didn’t read outside of the curriculum at all until the end of last year, and since i have started my literary analysis has increased tenfold. this is partly because practice is vital, but also because wider reading gave me an awareness that i could never have expected to gain. it enabled me to start making links between texts, genres, periods, etc – i began to see patterns and conventions in literature. for instance, a poem that breaks convention is easier to spot and talk about – to use a very basic example, a sonnet (usually a form of love poetry) about brutality/ violence toys with genre. if you had read some of shakespeare’s sonnets, you could then compare the violent poem with sonnet 18, to elucidate your point. this isn’t to say that you didn’t already know that sonnets were love poems, or that you wouldn’t have picked up on this without wider reading. but having read sonnets outside of class means that you can talk about this with greater clarity, authority and confidence.• i would also advise you to push yourself with the literary material you explore. it is difficult, but try to find nothing intimidating - read thick victorian novels, read modernist authors, read kant if you want, and even if the prospect of reading ‘harder’ texts doesn’t thrill you then try them anyway - you may be pleasantly surprised! part of the difficulty of studying this subject is that preconceived ideas can erect barriers and put you off. it is important to totally bulldoze these barriers and remind yourself that nothing is above you, and that you are capable. that’s not at all to say that you can’t read ‘simpler’ texts, and of course it is probably wise to admit to yourself when you perhaps need a greater literary background before you tackle a text (for example, i tried joyce’s ulysses, a modernist text full of allusion, when i have a barely working knowledge of greek mythology, and i admitted to myself that though it would not be impossible for me to read it, i would like to read more widely and then return to it in the future).• w i k i p e d i a. it’s often sniffed at but honestly don’t be afraid of using it! it’s an excellent way to absorb info fast. also don’t be ashamed of using websites like sparknotes if you don’t understand a poem to begin with! u shouldn’t rely on them for the crux of your analysis but they can be helpful to get started!• it’s perhaps obvious, but it helps to remind yourself that literature isn’t just fiction - try to read some critical essays if you can, and look at philosophy, history, psychology etc and how they relate to literature as studied in school. this is actually wayyyy more fun than it sounds (!) and will improve your general literary knowledge.• tumblr, whilst being a killer procrastination station, can also really help to broaden your knowledge. reblogged quotes from famous writers often stick around in your memory, and period moodboards can help you get a sense of different ages and help you to visualise what you’re studying. it’s also great to be in a community of passionate people - the passion of others on this site has definitely rubbed off on me!• make it relevant!! all of these texts and literary movements have shaped our society profoundly. as overdramatic as it sounds, look for the romanticism in a house party, or existentialism in internet memes, or hamlet in yourself. legacies are all around us, and seeing the world in this way can really bring literature to life.

literature is a subject where you get out what you put in. it’s relatively straightforward, if you work hard, to get very good grades in lit; if this is what you want, then having a solid knowledge of metre and literary terms, being able to spot them in texts, and then being able to describe what this reveals can get you top marks. but, in my opinion, to develop true literary intelligence you really have to let the subject permeate every aspect of your life. this is a subject where you really can take risks, be original and unique, and explore a huge amount of periods and ideas. if you see it reflected in the world around you, and think deeply and thoughtfully about everything you are reading, then the classwork honestly sorts itself out.

i hope this has been useful in some way and that it answers ur ask adequately!! if u have any further questions or require clarification please do not hesitate to let me know. i hope u have a wonderful day 💘

[oraculideluna]

VERY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY

repost; do not reblog !

    ϟ     BASICS

FULL NAME: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret NICKNAME/S: Not many so far. Vi sometimes calls her Sailor Moon, some people have called her Lu, but not much that’s been very consistent. (After all, isn’t Luna kind of her nickname anyway?) AGE: Default she’s 24, but for me that’s verse dependent, and also when in the timeline a scene takes place.  BIRTHDAY: September 24th ETHNIC GROUP: Tenebraean NATIONALITY:  Caucasian?  LANGUAGE/S: (This one is largely headcanon based rather than founded in canon.) Though the local language in Tenebrae has been slowly integrating the common language into it until pure Tenebraean is rarely spoken anymore except at major celebrations and ceremonies, and in religious sites, Luna can speak it fluently, and in fact, it is her first language. She learned the common tongue spoken across Eos second, and her common is spoken with a Tenebraean accent. Growing up, she was also learning the local dialects in Lucis, particularly what’s spoken in Insomnia and by the royal family, but after the invasion of Niflheim, studies of that were put to a stop. She has a passable knowledge of what’s spoken in the Niflheim capital, though speaking it is heavily accented, and she reads it better than she speaks it.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Probably demisexual with a leaning towards men. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: By default, engaged to Noctis, but this is all verse and timeline dependent.  CLASS: Royal, and holy. CURRENT HOME: Tenebrae, but as usual, verse dependent. (Bevelle, Dollet, Citadel, etc.) PROFESSION: Ex-princess and Oracle. (Verse dependent: queen/oracle, high priestess, duchess, etc)

    ϟ     PHYSICAL

HAIR: Light blonde, long with a bit of a wave and some soft curl at the end, hanging between the ends of her shoulder blades down to her hips, depending. EYES: Light blue, perceptive, and the most expressive part of her face when she’s trying not to show emotion. NOSE: Slim, with a soft curve at the tip. The bridge of her nose bumps up ever so slightly in the way that many Tenebraean noses do. FACE: Oval face with a slight and gentle elongation of the chin; almost heart-shaped, but not quite enough to call it that. LIPS: A bit wide-set lips with a soft curve around the corners and a pronounced cupid’s bow. COMPLEXION: A fair complexion that easily shows any color (blushing, bruising, etc) BLEMISHES: Nothing notable, though she does have a small beauty mark on the curve of the right side of her jaw, and one on her right collarbone at the base of her neck. She also has a few scars, though these are more prominent in the timeline after Altissia: a scar across the side of her right upper arm (grazed with a bullet during the fall of Insomnia) that remains slightly raised with a small knot of scar tissue; a white line of a scar across her left cheek (during the fight in Altissia) that’s barely noticeable except in some lights and with careful inspection; a large scar that traces about a 6” line across her abdomen (being stabbed by Ardyn in Altissia), knotted in a couple of places, pulling the skin tight. TATTOOS: None, but in some verses, she wouldn’t be against it. HEIGHT: 5’6” without heels. WEIGHT: Timeline dependent. Probably close to 125lbs until she escapes Altissia. After that, with all the fighting and weapons training she puts in, she ends up closer to 155lbs. BUILD: Slender, but adds more tone definition and a bit more weight as she trains. She probably ends up closer to an athletic build. ALLERGIES: None. USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Usually it’s held up with decorative braids and gemstones, with her bangs styled to be parted over one eye. When possible, she wears it down, and much prefers it down. USUAL EXPRESSION: Very neutral and straight-faced, lips and jaw set, eyes taking in everything around her. USUAL CLOTHING: Dresses. Embroidery, beads, lace, flowing skirts, decoration and accessories, headpieces. It’s fairly rare she gets to dress down, save for days when she has no appointments or public appearances. On those times, she wears far simpler clothing, a lot more relaxed and casual, while still maintaining what propriety is expected of her.

    ϟ     PSYCHOLOGY

FEAR/S: To quote the woman herself: “I do not fear death. What I fear is doing nothing and losing everything.” She’s long since accepted that she will die before she wants to, so the fear of death doesn’t come until well after the war ends. Once she’s survived and realizes she now has the rest of her lifetime to live, she finds that death becomes something she’s less…comfortable? with. She may not fear it, but she also is far more careful with her life now.

Outside of that, she’s afraid of a loss of control. Twenty-four years spent under the control and rule of someone with an agenda, and she now finds that, in most aspects of her life, a loss of control can cause the beginnings of panic. (There’s a slightly nsfw addendum to this, but that can be saved for later. Or asked about, if anyone even reads this far lol.) ASPIRATION/S: To be a ruler that her people, and the world, can be proud of. But also, to maintain their status as a peaceful nation while still finding ways to impress upon Eos that they are not to be messed with ever again. POSITIVE TRAITS: Generous, kind, thoughtful, isn’t too stiff in demeanor, empathetic NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, distrusting (to a degree), MBTI: ENFJ. ZODIAC: Libra, Virgo/Libra cusp. TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine. SOUL TYPE/S: Caregiver and Spiritualist. VICE/S: Complicated, because Luna spent much of her life being told and considering some basic human needs and wants are vices. She wants to be loved, she wants friends, she wants a minute to relax. She wants conversations deep into the night about everything and nothing. She wants to be kissed, to hold hands, to see the beach.

But as for actual vices, she carries in her a lot of anger and just enough vengefulness disguised as righteousness. 

GHOSTS? No. AFTERLIFE? Yes. REINCARNATION? No, though couldn’t one just wish. ALIENS? No? I guess, if she really thought about it, she’d think about life on other worlds, but all things considered, she’s never thought about it. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Oh, that’s a lot to ask in one question. EDUCATION LEVEL: A level of schooling equivalent to a bachelor’s degree, all crammed into tutoring and homeschooling until she was twenty-two.

    ϟ     FAVORITES

BOOK: She’ll tell people it’s religious books like the Cosmogeny, buuuuut give this girl some escapism. She loves stories of adventure, has a fondness for rogue-like characters, and will read the occasional romance novel. MOVIE: She hasn’t been able to see many, what with all that censorship, but she would love a good thriller, suspense, action movie, something in that genre. MONTH: Summertime. Don’t care what month, but the warmth and the summer rains and light dresses and blooming flowers – all of it. SEASON: Summer. PLACE: The beach. Doesn’t matter if it’s an ocean or a lake or a river, she just wants to be barefoot in the sand with water. WEATHER: Warm days and warm nights. She does enjoy a good rainstorm, though. SOUND/S: The sort of not-so-quiet quiet that comes with a peaceful afternoon or evening. The rustle of a gentle breeze through the trees, birds or crickets chittering about outside, the sound of her own quiet breathing. She also really enjoys music a lot, and will usually have something playing softly nearby when she’s working or reading.  SCENT/S: Flowers, especially exotic ones; vanilla, cinnamon, the smell of wood burning in a fireplace. Deep heady scents that are warm and comfortable. TASTE/S: Fruits! She enjoys sweet ones, but finds particular interest in tart berries. Cinnamon is a favorite, and she once tried a heavily cinnamon flavored drink while traveling that she loved, but hasn’t been able to have since. FEEL/S: A warm breeze, soft cotton against her thighs, hot baths, ocean/lake water that isn’t too cold.

    ϟ     EXTRA

GOOD AT: Puzzles, public speaking, dancing, she’s a fast learner, good with her words BAD AT: Self care, driving, understanding innuendo TURN-ONS: Confidence, being trustworthy, a sense of humor, not treating her like she’s made of glass, a charming smile…legs TURN-OFFS: Blatant power plays, a need for dominance, condescension, HOBBIES: Reading, gardening (though she doesn’t get to do it very often), writing TROPES: Cast from lifespan, Nerves of Steel, Stuffed Into the Fridge (the salt is real over this), Super Strength, You See I’m Dying

[emeraldwaves]

Hi-ya, daily request bot Mirai asking for a little kacchako request? What about servant!Bakugou getting princess!Uraraka out of trouble at a masquerade dance? n__n

AHHH Mirai I don’t think you understand how much this idea means to me. It really sparked my muse and I’m so sorry it got so out of hand it’s crazy and this huge steampunk AU now LOL! XD I hope you enjoy this!! Thank you SO MUCH for the request!!

To The Skies

Part 1 (Ao3)

Summary: When the royal family’s masquerade ball goes horribly wrong, it’s up to servant boy Bakugou Katsuki to rescue the princess, Uraraka Ochako. But his rescue mission is about to change both of their lives completely, and eventually Uraraka will want to reclaim her throne.

WC: 5,417

Tiny fingers curled around counter, red eyes barely peering over the edge. The smells of the kitchen permeated his nose, freshly baked bread, shrimp, meat, and in the background was the hint of cake, still cooking in the oven. It practically sparkled on the table, pristine, untouched…and he was so close. If he moved his tiny fingers forward even a bit, he could probably grab–

“Kacchan! What are you doing?” A small voice hissed out behind him.

Fuckin’ Deku. Always ruining his fun.

Bakugou lowered his feet to the floor. “Shut up, Deku. It’s none of your business.”

“That food is for the party! Not us!” Deku hissed. His green eyes darted back and forth nervously, as though they had both been caught stealing from the counter.

“Do you think I’m dumb?” Bakugou growled. “I know who the food is for.” He rolled his eyes; Deku spoke as though they both hadn’t grown up in the kitchen of the royal family.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Deku mumbled, wringing his hands together. “And your mother was looking for you, she said you have to go get dressed! We have to start serving soon,” Deku said, his hand running down his tiny tie.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou growled, wiping his dusty hands on his pants as he stormed back to the servant living quarters.

He and Deku were too young to actually serve, but it was their job to deliver the plates from the kitchen to the ballroom floor. It was a terribly boring job, and Bakugou especially hated when Deku tried to be so damn intense about it. He acted as though the world would end if they didn’t move the plates from one place to the next. However, Bakugou was certain the world wouldn’t come crashing down if they skipped out on one event. But skipping meant getting yelled at by at least five different people, and Bakugou didn’t feel like dealing with that.

He also didn’t feel like getting into formal serving attire, but there was no avoiding it.

“It’s so fucking stupid!” he growled as his mother adjusted the bow tie around his neck.

“Katsuki!” she snapped, tugging on his ear. “Language! If any of the royals hear you…”

“It’s dumb,” he growled, yanking his head away from her grip. “We’re never even seen on the floor! Why does it matter what we wear?!”

His mother sighed, attempting to smooth down his unruly blond locks. “I don’t understand where this poor attitude came from,” she said. “Just be a good boy and do your job Katsuki.”

“Technically it’s your fucking job,” he grumbled, biting down on his lip hard as her hands pressed harder and harder on his head.

“Language!” his mother bemoaned. “You’re ten years old and you’re already speaking like this,” she sighed to herself, clearly disappointed in her son’s poor mouth.

Wriggling away from his mother’s grip, he ran his hands through his blond hair, messing up the poor job his mother had done of attempting to quell the unruly spikes. He folded his arms, huffing out a long breath of air, semi-resigned to his awful fate. He would do his job, sure, but he wasn’t going to be fucking happy about it.

She reached forward, but Bakugou quickly jumped back. His mother’s eyebrow twitched and she rubbed down the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want to deal with getting another scolding from the head chef because you can’t keep your opinions to yourself, Katsuki. Why do you insist on making things difficult for your poor mother?” she sighed dramatically.

Bakugou wrinkled his nose. “Whatever,” he growled, yanking his vest from her hands. “I’ll be ‘good’.” He pulled the vest over his button up shirt, and made his way back to the kitchen to find Deku.

“Wait! Katsuki, your mask!”

“Hah?!” he grumbled.

“It’s a masquerade,” his mother reminded, holding up the black mask.

Every event was the same, they all blurred together. Bakugou in the wings, delivering delicious looking food he would never get to eat. Deku would be a nervous wreck, scared about messing up each damn step he took. Remembering this particular party was a masquerade was the last thing on Bakugou’s mind.

“Why do I have to wear a mask?” he snapped, groaning loudly when she placed it on his face. It was black, covering the upper half of his face, with long flame like spikes curling around his ears. It hooked around his ears and stuck up through his blond hair. “I won’t even be seen!”

“It’s a precaution, in case someone stumbles somewhere they’re not supposed to. The royals asked for everyone to be in masks,” she explained. “Just have fun with it Katsuki!” she said, tying the mask around his head.

“There’s absolutely nothing fun about this!” he growled.

“I don’t know what happened to make you such a bitter child,” his mother sighed yet again, sending him off to the kitchen. “Please, please please be good tonight, and don’t cause any trouble.”

Bakugou chose to not answer his mother, he wasn’t going to make any sort of promise, especially when in the past he hadn’t done a very good job of keeping them.

He found Deku in the kitchen, holding two trays. One was filled with warm, buttery rolls, folded in the shape of crescents.The crescent moon was a part of the royal crest, and was often depicted in their decorations and food. Bakugou was used to seeing the style, and yet it didn’t stop him from drooling internally. The stupid rolls smelled damn good. He yanked the other tray from Deku, filled with some sort of rolled up meat on it. It also looked good, but at least the smell didn’t attack his nose every five seconds.

“I guess you’ll take that one then,” Deku said, a nervous smile on his lips. He was wearing a strange green bunny mask. It looked like something he had made himself, and then his mother had desperately tried to fix it, but had failed. Both of them had failed; one of the ears was slightly droopy, and the nose of the bunny sat slightly crooked over Deku’s own nose.

“Yeah I don’t wanna smell the fuckin’ bread,” he growled.

“But it smells good!” Deku said, holding the tray close to his nose.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “I fucking know,” he growled, “that’s why I don’t want to carry it.”

“Ah…” Deku said, his eyes widening a bit when he realized what Bakugou was saying. “It is pretty tempting,” he giggled, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

Bakugou left Deku giggling to himself as he started carrying the trays to the designated area. Usually they had to wait for empty trays halfway through the night so they could refill them, but at the beginning of the event, it was a lot of back and forth for the two young boys. They would hand the trays to the wait staff, and they would deliver the empty trays back, waiting for more. It was incredibly boring, especially in the down time when they weren’t moving.

He went back and forth, Deku stumbling to keep up with him, delivering tray after tray until they were stuck waiting. Whenever this happened, Bakugou would always crouch near the servant door, and peer into the ballroom.

The ballroom had a high ceiling, golden, and decorated with ornate art. Some of it was of gods Bakugou forgot the names of, and on the walls were large paintings of members of the royal family, both living and dead. Next to their door was a large, white table, filled high with food and fountains of different colored drinks, some alcoholic and a few not. Pink and red flowers decorated the table, scattered around the food.

On the opposite end of the room was a large string band, playing music for the guests to dance to. A majority of them spun around the room with a partner, all their faces covered up by a variety of colored masks. Many had adorned the masks in jewels or lace, showing off their riches. Some held them up to their faces, and others had tied them directly on. Bakugou silently wondered what it would be like to have money like that to squander on random objects like a mask they would probably wear once.

His gaze zoomed over the crowd and fell upon the royal family. They, of course, looked to be the most decorated of everyone. The king and queen sat upon their thrones, holding hands, and it looked as though they were smiling at each other, enjoying the lavish scene in front of them. Bakugou had no idea what this party was even for, probably for nothing. The royal family often held random events, simply to have a good time it seemed, or maybe it was to show off the masks they had had made for the occasion.

The queen’s mask was beige, and covered most of her face, diamonds hung from the side of her eyes, and it was covered entirely in glittered. Pieces of lace decorated the edge of the mask, and it shimmered against the bright lights. The king however, wore a bright red mask with black and gold jewels rimming the edge. His was simpler than the queen’s, but it felt powerful, especially with the way it shaped his forehead and nose.

Then Bakugou’s eyes fell upon the princess. She was smiling, her mouth open wide, and Bakugou could almost hear her gentle laugh. She was twirling in front of her parents, and dancing with a man who Bakugou could guess was her uncle. It was hard to tell from this distance, especially with the masks.

The princess, Ochako, wore a pink puffy dress, and with each twirl it swirled around her tiny body. She hopped about, her long hair flowing around her round cheeks. She had the roundest face Bakugou had ever seen, but the mask she had chosen suited her face perfectly. It was white, lacy, and covered the majority of her face. The sides hooked around her ears and had feathers billowing off the ends, as though she had angel wings shooting from her eyes. There were pink jewels around her eyes as well, which Bakugou could see shimmer against the light when she twirled in the right direction.

“Oi! Move kid!” a gruff voice came, and Bakugou snapped back, immediately taken off guard. He stood up, grumbling and clicking his tongue angrily as he walked away.

“Kacchan!” Deku whispered, waving his arm to him. “We have to bring these trays back!”

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou stormed over to the table and yanked a pile of trays off of it. Someday he wouldn’t just be a servant boy. Hell, maybe someday he’d be the one in the fancy suit with the decorated jeweled mask. He’d made it his goal to get out of this fucking place.

Bakugou made his way back to the kitchen, turning down the longer hallway. There were two men he didn’t recognize coming down the opposite direction. Both were tall, wearing large black suits and had their faces completely covered by plain black masks. He’d never seen men in the wait staff who were so tall. Who the hell were they? Were they supposed to be here? Even if he could’ve seen their faces, he was certain he wouldn’t have known who they were.

Frowning, Bakugou tucked the trays under his arms. “Oi!” he called out to them, both men freezing at the sound of his voice. Their masked faces stared at him, and Bakugou felt a chill on his arms, getting the distinct feeling the men knew they weren’t meant to be in the area. “You’re not supposed to be back here!” he snapped anyway, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them. The two men stopped walking for a minute, but shared a glance before continuing forward, pushing past Bakugou. “Oi!” Bakugou repeated.

“Shut your mouth kid,” one of the men spoke darkly, as he and his partner turned the corner.

“Shit,” Bakugou cursed under his breath, listening to them walk down the hall. However, they seemed to be headed in a different direction than the servants’ hall. Where the hell were they going?

“Kacchan! What are you-” Quickly covering Deku’s mouth, Bakugou turned the corner, pressing his back against the wall.

“Shh!” he hissed. “There are two guys back here I don’t recognize.”

“Eh?” Deku said quietly. “What do you mean?”

Bakugou began following the two men down the side corridor which led to the other side of the ballroom. Technically, he and Deku weren’t allowed down this hall, but neither were these men.

“They had on plain black masks, and their suits were all black too,” he noted, letting Deku follow him. The men were by the other door, near the band, and Bakugou ducked into a small alcove, taking Deku with him. The two men had stopped walking, and pushed their masks up. Both of them looked older and Bakugou had been correct; he had no idea who they were.

“You’ll go in first, gun out, you can fire as many shots as you like. It doesn’t matter who you hit, as long as you don’t hit the royal family. We need to keep them alive. After you go in shooting, I’ll follow and open the main door to the balcony, allowing the others who are waiting outside to come in and help.”

“K-Kacchan! What are they-” Bakugou immediately covered Deku’s mouth again, hushing him. Even with his soft whisper, Bakugou didn’t want to risk getting caught.

“Wait, don’t we want the royal family dead? Isn’t that the point?” he asked.

“No, you idiot. We want to use them as a bargaining tool. Everyone else is fair game though,” the first man shrugged.

“Alright, we’ll give it another song then,” the second man said, peering through the small crack in the middle of the door.

“Dammit,” Bakugou growled, hissing under his breath. “Deku…you run back to the kitchen and tell everyone what’s going on.”

“Right,” Deku nodded. “Wait…what are you going to do Kacchan!? You can’t just dash out there after those men!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “No idiot, I’m going to sneak behind the royal family and warn them!”

“Oh…well…be careful Kacchan…” he mumbled.

“Just get going!” he snapped softly.

“Right!” Deku called back, running down the hall fast.

One song wasn’t very much time, and Bakugou knew he had to act fast. He knew there was a door behind the thrones, but getting to it was another thing entirely. If they began shooting into the party, the scene would be hectic. He had to get to them first.

He ducked down, waiting for a few of the servants to pass by, and for once he was thankful he was just a kid. Peaking around the corner, he stepped forward towards the door, which opened up on a giant curtain.

However, as the door squeaked open, there was a loud shot, followed by a cacophony of screams. “Shit,” Bakugou cursed, peering through the side of the curtain. The scene was a that of a mob. A few of the guards were dashing up the stairs to get to the royal family, though Bakugou saw one fall almost immediately. He could see the king and queen standing, the king stepping in front of the queen. “Shit, shit, shit,” Bakugou continued. There was no point in warning them now…but maybe…

It was hard to focus on one thing, between the screams and the shots, Bakugou tried his best to locate the princess. She was covering her ears, crouched near the throne…The men had said they were going to keep the royal family alive, but he had feeling they wouldn’t keep them alive forever.

‘How the hell did these men get in? What the fuck were the guards doing?’ Bakugou wondered silently as he slowly walked behind the curtain, not wanting to make any fast movements and alert the crowd to his presence. The screams were growing louder, and the shots were more frequent. The first man must’ve opened the balcony doors as he had intended.

Bakugou slipped his hand into the slit of the curtain, pushing it back enough to stick part of his face out. People were running for the exits and guards were attempting to block the thrones, shooting their own guns, however it was doing little to stop the massive crowd, or the intruders. Bakugou slipped through the curtain, pressing his small back against the lower part of the chair, completely hidden from view.

Princess Ochako had her ears covered, her small arms trembling. He tapped her shoulder, and leaned forward, wrapping his hand around her mouth. “Shhh,” he whispered as she began to struggle against him. “I’m going to get you out of here! Just be quiet.”

She turned her head, attempting to meet his eyes. Her brown eyes were wide underneath the white mask, but she quickly nodded once she was able to see Bakugou was about her age. He was thankful she’d calmed enough, though he supposed a kid in serving clothes wouldn’t seem all that suspicious, but given the circumstance, he was thankful she hadn’t tried to get away.

He pulled her quickly under the curtain and through the door, slamming it behind them. Hopefully no one had seen him drag the princess away. “C'mon,” he said, moving his hand from her mouth to her hand. “Let’s go. We’re getting out of here.”

“W-Who…Who are you!?” she stammered, pulling her hand away. “What is…happening?! What about my parents?!” she asked, stopping in her tracks.

“Listen up shitty princess,” Bakugou said, ignoring the gasp which escaped her lips when he swore. “I don’t know what’s going on with these guys, but they’re after your family and we gotta get you out of here. My mother works in the kitchen, I’m just a server.”

Ochako blinked. “A server? That’s why you’re wearing that!” she said, as though she finally realized.

“Yeah, but who cares about that, we gotta go! Follow me!” he snapped and began to run back to the kitchen, occasionally checking to see if she was behind him. She was much slower than him, probably because her damn dress was so puffy. If they could get to his mom, she could give her something else to wear and they could send her out to get away from the castle.

Making it to the kitchen, Bakugou wasn’t shocked to see people scrambling about, running as fast as they could to the servant exit. Letting out a large breath of air, Bakugou grabbed Ochako’s hand. “Alright, this way,” he said, ducking down to zigzag between the cabinets. Behind him, he heard Ochako yelp as a few bowls and pans fell in the chaos.

“Bakugou!” one woman called out. “Get to your mother!”

“Trying!” he snapped back, running out of the kitchen finally, heading back to his room. He was glad no one had stopped him, or noticed he was dragging the princess along with him. Thank goodness for confused chaos.

He ran down the servants quarters hallway, pounding on his door. “Mother! Open up!”

“Katsuki?!” she said, yanking the door open. “Oh thank goodness,” she sighed, pulling her son into her arms.

“Mom, we don’t have fucking time for this!” he snapped, pushing away from her.

“KatsukI! Language! And do you realize what’s going on?! We have to-…” his mother froze, staring at the young girl standing behind Bakugou. “P-Princess?!” she gasped, and looked around the hallway, quickly pulling them both inside.

“Mom. We have to leave!” Bakugou snapped. “We can’t hide, they’re looking for her!” he said, gesturing to the princess.

“Bakugou Katsuki, I have no idea how you found her, but I’ve never been prouder of you,” his mother sighed, and began digging through a small trunk on the side of the room.

“Eh?” Bakugou snorted.

“Come here sweetie,” she said, handing her a pair of tattered clothes. “We don’t have much time. These people…they’ve blocked off the servant’s exit. But don’t worry, change fast.” She pulled out a large hat, and handed it to Ochako. “Tuck your hair under this and don’t take it off for any reason.”

Ochako blushed, but quickly turned around, pulling her large dress over her head as she yanked the ornate mask off of her face, starting to change into the tattered brown pants and shirt.

Bakugou’s mother reached under her bed and handed Bakugou a small bag of coins. “This isn’t much, but it will get you both on an airship. Go. Take her somewhere, anywhere that isn’t here. Keep her safe. She is our princess, and if these…people take over, there won’t be anyone else but her with claim to the throne.”

“What the…Mom, what are you saying? Aren’t you coming?” Bakugou asked.

She cupped his cheeks, pulling him close. “Honey, someone needs to make sure no one follows you out. I love you…and I want you to do your best to not get into any more trouble…” she whispered. “Can you do that for me?”

“But-”

“Bakugou Katsuki, for once in your damn life please just listen to me!” she snapped, pulling him into a final hug. “Now go, take the secret passage out of the castle I know you and Deku have used before, the one that leads to the forest,” she said, gesturing to the door.

Bakugou nodded, silently wondering if Deku had made it out. Probably, the little sneak was good at everything, especially avoiding trouble. The princess probably would’ve been better off getting out with him. He quickly shook the thought from his head. Of course she was better off with him, he was way better than Deku, and hell if anyone tried to get her, he’d fucking punch them out.

“Thank you,” Ochako said quietly, bowing her head, clutching the hat hard so it didn’t fall off.

“No…darling…thank you. I truly believe you are our future,” Bakugou’s mother smiled softly. “Now go…and stay safe!” she hissed, pushing them out the door.

Staring at the door, he paused, unable to look away from his mother’s face. She’d always annoyed him, pressured him into doing what was right, and being good. He’d been trapped in this damn castle because of her…but at least…they’d been together. Swallowing, he nodded once to his mother, and turned away. “C'mon,” Bakugou said finally, as they both went their separate ways down the hall.

“T-Thank you…Katsuki,” Ochako whispered, her voice trembling.

“You can’t fucking cry. You’re stronger than that,” he said, squeezing her hand hard, knowing neither of them could look back. “You’re a princess, you’re our princess, and we’re going to get you away from here.”

Screams called out from further down the hallway. It seemed his mother hadn’t been lying about the men infiltrating from the servant’s entrance.

“Fuck,” he cursed again, and tugged her hand around, heading towards the entrance his mother had mentioned. He’d been surprised she’d known about it, but then again, his mother was a lot smarter than she let on. He climbed down a flight of stairs, and headed to the small door which led down a winding corridor to the bottom floor of the castle. There, he found the tunnel just large enough for children to crawl through. “C'mon,” he gestured, “we gotta crawl through this hole.”

“Right,” she nodded, and got down on her hands and knees, crawling through the hole immediately.

Bakugou blinked, surprised she had done it so easily. He’d expected her to be a snob about crawling on the ground, what princess wanted to get dirty?

“You had no problem doing that,” he muttered, wiping the dirt from the front of his hands.

“Well, I used to see other kids playing outside, but I always had to be in lessons…” she mumbled. “I sometimes wondered if it would be fun to…roll around in the dirt,” she giggled, and Bakugou raised an eyebrow. Though he was pleased they were at least trying to stay somewhat positive.

“Hey! What do you kids think you’re doing?!” A man in black called out from far around the other side of the castle, and Bakugou blinked, shocked the man had seen them.

“Guess it’s time to run,” Ochako said, and Bakugou nodded, taking off into the woods while making sure she followed behind.

“The docks aren’t too far from here, just down the hill and through the town, maybe we can lose them?” he panted heavily, glancing behind himself every so often. The men weren’t directly behind them, but he did hear a few gunshots.

Ochako yelped, stumbling forward as she slipped, landing directly on her butt as she knocked into Bakugou, the two of them tumbling down the steep hill. Normally Bakugou would’ve taken her a much easier way, but after the man yelled, he hadn’t taken the time to think. The two rolled to the bottom, and Bakugou took a minute to catch his breath, looking up at the darkening sky. If the damn sun would just set, they would’ve had a much easier time escaping in the dark.

“There they are!” a voice called from far up the hill, and Bakugou scrambled to stand up.

He grabbed her hand, and ran across the bridge, heading directly for town. A few more gunshots rang out behind them, but nothing even came close. Bakugou couldn’t tell if they were aiming for them, or if the men were simply firing warning shots into the air.

A few small cries of terror left Ochako’s lips as she used her free hand to cover one of her ears. Her other, held onto Bakugou tight, not wanting to let go.

The town was coming up on the horizon, and once they crossed the second bridge, Bakugou slowed his running when they made it to a crowd of people. He panted, his hand on his knee. “I think we lost them,” he sighed.

“Thank goodness,” she whispered.

“Let’s get to the docks…” he muttered softly. “I don’t want to give them any chance to catch up,” he growled.

“Right,” she nodded her head. Not once had she cried, not once had she looked back. She’d followed him the whole way. This whole time, he’d thought Princess Ochako Uraraka was simply that…a princess. A little girl who couldn’t do anything for herself…and yet…she was far stronger than he’d given her credit for. The girl was anything but weak-willed.

The two pushed their way through the crowd and Ochako squeezed his hand. “Thank you again, Katsuki. I know it probably wasn’t easy to…up and leave your mother to help me.”

Bakugou turned around, raising his brow at her. “Me? You left your home too you know,” he snapped. “Think about yourself, ’m doin’ just fine,” he grumbled, his steps growing brisker.

There was silence between them now as they walked to the docks. Besides the occasional hand squeeze, neither of them spoke. There wasn’t much to say, as the reality was beginning to slowly settle in for both of them. Where were they supposed to go? And what exactly were they supposed to do? Be in hiding forever? Was their country about to go to war? Who were the people who had come to destroy their peaceful lives? Bakugou had a million questions running through his mind, and yet, he could only focus on protecting Ochako and possibly destroying those men in the near future.

Pushing through the crowds, both of them paused when they finally made it to the docks. Bakugou looked for the main stand where he could purchase tickets, and Ochako stared up at the massive airships.

“Wow…” she whispered.

“What? Have you never seen an airship before?” Bakugou snorted, turning to look at her.

“Not…a public one…” she whispered. “We would take private airships all the time, but these…are huge!” she smiled. “They’re pretty amazing, right?”

“Y-Yeah, they’re cool…” Bakugou muttered, and pointed to the ticket booth. “We gotta go over there.”

The two approached the desk, and Bakugou dumped the coins in front of the man. “Can I…help you?” he asked, staring at the decent pile of coins in front of him.

“We need two tickets, as far away as possible. What can this get us?” Bakugou said.

The man reached his hand forward, pulling the coins towards himself as he counted them out. “Hm. Should get you a couple islands over…but I gotta ask, why are two kids traveling alone? Where are your parents?” he asked, leaning forward over the desk.

Fuckin’ adults always had to ask so many damn questions. Bakugou glanced at Ochako, and back to the desk, thankfully she hadn’t been recognized. “We’re uh…meeting our father. Our mother had to send us first though…cause she’s gotta…pack a lot of stuff…” It was a horrible excuse and Bakugou was certain he wouldn’t be getting away with it, but the man handed him the two tickets anyway.

“Well, be careful. It’s dangerous for two kids out there,” he said, tipping his hat to both of them.

“Got it,” Bakugou snapped, yanking the tickets off the counter as he dashed away before the man could change his mind. “Fuckin’ adults,” he snapped, glancing at the tickets. “Alright, dock number 7 and then we can get on the ship and leave this disaster behind.”

Ochako giggled. “You handled that so well though,” she said, following after him. “Great excuse.”

“I can’t believe he bought it,” Bakugou smirked, looking rather proud of himself.

“I’m…not really sure he did,” she said.

“BOSS! I found ‘em!” A voice called out from the crowd, and Bakugou’s eyes widened when he realized the men had indeed found them. A group of men in black suits began running towards them and Bakugou pursed his lips. There was no way they’d get away with that many of them in tow.

Taking the ticket, he shoved Ochako’s into her hand. “Go,” he said. “I’ll distract them. You get on the boat, and I’ll meet you. If I don’t make it…just…go. Hide, stay safe.”

“But Katsuki, I-”

“Don’t you fucking argue with me!” he snapped. “You’re the fucking princess, and the whole reason we’re here is to make sure you get away.”

“Katsuki…”

“Shut up!” he growled. “You’re brave. You’re the bravest fucking princess I know…so go.”

Her brow furrowed, and she tucked the ticket into the pocket of her pants. Tugging a small pink crescent moon ring from her finger, she handed it to him. “Here,” she said, shoving it to his chest. “Take this, and show me it when you find me so I know it’s you.”

Bakugou looked at the small jewel, and tucked it into his pocket. “Right,” he smirked. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

She nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “I believe in you Katsuki! And…thank you for everything.”

“Shaddup! Just go!” he said, waving her off, but he heard her giggle at him one last time, and she turned, running up the ramp to board the ship.

The men were cutting through the crowd and Bakugou smirked, stepping forward. “Hey you fuckin’ idiots, you really think you can catch me?!” The men’s attention was immediately on him, and Bakugou turned to run the second they started after him. He was fast, but they were adults, and much faster than he was.

He was probably going to die, die for this girl he’d only watched from afar his whole life…for a girl he’d only talked to for the first time tonight. But he was also going to die for his princess, as though he were her own personal guard.

Bakugou glanced towards the ship, catching the back of her hat as she stepped onto the boat. There was no way these idiots would notice her now. He smirked, he supposed if he was going to die as her personal guard, that was a pretty bad ass way to go. But Bakugou wasn’t one to finish things quietly. Hell no, if Bakugou Katsuki was going to go, he was going to go out with a bang.

And with that, he turned on his heel and charged directly towards the men.

[body-in-revolt]

Performance on the edge of existence: Kris Verdonck's SOMETHING (out of nothing)

an essay by Kristof van Baarle

Recently, the British newspaper The Guardian changed its language policy with regard to the changing climate. Climate change, became  ‘climate emergency’ and instead of global warming, it now says: global heating. The newspaper does this in order to make the urgency clear and to break familiarization – people get used to a catastrophe -. 

And the urgency is real: scientists not only establish more and more tipping points and points of no return, they themselves are surprised by the speed with which glaciers and ice plains are melting, and perhaps most of all by the active denial by some of the most powerful world leaders. Part of the climate emergency is the alarming so-called 'sixth mass extinction' that is currently taking place. This means that in the 4.5 billion years of planet Earth's history, there have only been five other periods in which so many species have died out. The dubious protagonist in this story, we can see in the mirror: the human being. It is our lifestyle, our emissions, our eating habits, our urge for growth and expansion that push the planet on a certain path towards exhaustion and extinction. The solutions we come up with, usually with great hopes for technology, only make the situation worse. Whatever we do or invent, in the long run the only option is to do less, stop. We find ourselves in a kind of deadlock, in which we are already with one foot in the grave.

It is this situation, this state of being, that Kris Verdonck tries to shape in SOMETHING (out of nothing). A situation that we ourselves do not yet fully understand, that may be beyond understanding, and that we should explore more in terms of feeling, by touch. 

Kris Verdonck's work is extremely consistent: time and again it examines the relationship between man and his environment, in installations, choreographies and performances that all gauge the zero degree of the theatre. Since the Industrial Revolution in the 18th century, this environment has increasingly begun to be filled with technology, to the point where it is almost entirely determined by it today. Thanks to the development of technologies, we have been able to fundamentally change the landscape, the air and the soil in and on which we live. This requires us to learn to deal with endings: the end of the existence of certain species and landscapes, of lifestyles, but also to deal with the increasingly clear horizon of the end of man, and by extension: the end of our own individuals' lives.

This shift in the world is also reflected in Kris Verdonck's oeuvre. Whereas in the earlier works human performers were often placed in constellations with machines - such as the dancers in I/II/III/IIII that was taken up by ICK in 2017 - the more recent performances focus on the relationship between 'free' bodies and the environment of the theatre apparatus. That seems simpler, but the opposite is true. Whereas in I/II/III/IIII the dancers hung in armour and were able to float up and down, and from left to right, telling something about the relationship between beauty, technology and catastrophe, the context for the dancers in SOMETHING (out of nothing) is more open. On a mostly empty stage, with an 'open' light, four figures appear. Their faces behind masks, their bodies dressed in black velvet bodysuits, it seems as if they are almost gone. There is no reason to do anything: there is no story, there is no machine that drives them. And yet they try to do something, simple movements, a jump, a turn, some crawl around, connect two movements, follow each other: do something not to do nothing, but to perform the nothingness in which they find themselves. To make the emptiness, the despair, the boredom, the pointlessness of the situation tangible, to  make it 'happen' instead of showing it. SOMETHING is a search for how choreography can become a performance, rather than a written movement that has a beginning and an end. ‘Something’ has to happen, namely nothing. In SOMETHING (out of nothing), Kris Verdonck searches for the performance of the thin line between presence and absence, for that state of being in which you may still be physically there, but where your existence no longer has any impact because your role is already played out. How to perform, what to dance, after everything is over? What is a choreography, after the end? 

This performance is the next step in what has become a series of performances that explore the imminent end of mankind on the (world) stage. What started with UNTITLED (2014), a performance for a performer in a mascot suit, in which we discovered 'nothing' as something that can be performed, was continued in 2017 in Conversations (at the end of the world). In this theatre performance based on the work of the Russian writer Daniil Charms, we found ourselves in a space after the end of theatre. Five people were on stage together and told each other a number of stories that led to nowhere. They tried with great imagination to understand the world and death, to finally disappear into the mountains of grey snow that had formed on stage. SOMETHING (out of nothing) is a search for a step further. After the drama, after the words, all that remains is the body, the physical presence. And in times of extinction and climate emergency, this presence also starts to diminish. What remains to be done after everything has been done and said? Which movements are still appropriate? This is really about a place and a time we don't know, can't know, because it goes beyond the limit of life - into death and the end. That's why we've consulted the Japanese Noh Theatre tradition, in which a ghost is always the main character. In order to perform the suffering of this character, to make it happen on stage, music, language, costume, light, scenography and dance are used. The story is told three times, and each time the perspective shifts to a more inner experience, each time it becomes more intense. The last scene is a dance to music and text, a ritual in which the memory of the suffering coincides with the reliving of it. We also follow this structure in SOMETHING (out of nothing), in order to penetrate as deeply as possible into the darkness of the ecological catastrophe. 

Strangely enough, this sometimes leads to comic moments. Maybe this shouldn't come as a surprise, because besides Noh we also looked at the work of Samuel Beckett. The senselessness of existence and the resulting torments also had theatrical consequences for Beckett: actors and actresses were placed under a tight control, in which light and scenography play an important role, and of course the continuous repetition. Not only in Waiting for Godot, but also in shorter pieces such as Act Without Words I and II, this led to a kind of dark humour, an absurdity that reveals a deep existential crisis. It is perhaps this inspiration from Beckett that also leaves an opening for a small point of light in the darkness. No hope, but more a conclusion: they will continue, even if they cannot: I can't go on, I will go on. The question is how to fill in our existence towards the end. What keeps us from living to the fullest in times of destruction, to prevent people from living where they want to live? What is stopping us, in this state of emergency, from throwing away the mantra of growth and just doing 'less'? If we don't do it for ourselves, we will do it at least for the generations of people and other animals, plants - who knows machines - that come after us. The next generation bears the consequences of the actions of the current and previous generations. We must learn to die in these times, and ask ourselves how we can do this in a responsible way. A first step is to shape the darkness that characterizes these times. 

Kristof van Baarle  is a dramaturge and researcher. He received his PhD in art sciences at Ghent University in 2018, titled From the cyborg to the apparatus. Figures of posthumanism in the philosophy of Giorgio Agamben and the contemporary performing arts of Kris Verdonck . As a dramaturge Kristof is attached to Kris Verdonck / A Two Dogs Company, and he worked / works with Michiel Vandevelde, Heike Langsdorf, Thomas Ryckewaert and Alexander Vantournhout. 

Pictures Alwin Poiana and Bas de Brouwer (portrait).

[onlyonewoman]

Shit I want NT people to know about autism

1. It’s not a disease, it’s a functional disability. There is a difference. 2. Please, don’t say “but you don’t seem autistic” to an autistic person. The reason why this is called an invisible disability is because - wait for it - it’s often not visible! 3. Autistic people exist within all the scale of intelligence spectrum. We’re all different, just like you. Most of us are not like Rain Man (Savant Syndrome is very rare and way different than autism, okay?) and if you throw out a package of peas on the floor, we wont be able to count them, just ask ourselves why we are considered disabled and not the moron throwing food on the floor. 4. We can have romantic and sexual relationships, friends and families too. Some of us are parents and doing fine. 5. The math professor you’re passing by in the corridor at university, the cleaner who’s trolly you just saw around the corner, the teenage girl waiting for the bus, the old lady walking her dog around your block, the musician you just heard on the radio, the toddler that seems uninterested in playing with the other kids in the park, the dad who’s always looking at his cellphone, may all be autistic. We are everywhere. We’re different. 6. When it looks like I’m going through the day smooth, it’s because I’ve done rigorous plans to not get a meltdown. And no, most meltdowns are not visible.    7. Being autistic, often means it’s difficult to reckognize feelings and separate them. That’s called alexithymia and that too is different from person to person. Some have more of it than others. It doesn’t mean we have less feelings or don’t feel as strong as non-autistic people. It simply means a lot of us have to spend time figuring out what we’re feeling and why, because our brain don’t tell us that automatically. That makes us feel chaotic, perhaps even frightened. It’s fucking exhausting too. 8. A lot of us hate surprises. That doesn’t mean we’re boring. It means that our brains have a limitied capability to visualize new situations and to shift focus. It can also be extremely frightening and make us feel loss of control, exposed and vulnerable. 9. It’s very difficult to try and tell your autistic brain that, for example, trying new food or going to an unfamiliar place with your friends to have a good time in safe company, is enjoyable. When you have a hard time both visualizing and generalizing, things that non-autistic people think are about the same, could feel like completely different things. We think in details, not unities, and that makes us perceive the world in ways that differ more than the usual differences between people.  10. We take things literally. Yes, we do. Even people who, like me, belong to the high functional part of the spectrum. We don’t read between the lines, we are often not very good at reading body language, faces or tones of voices. The spoken - or written - words are, for most of us, the one thing communication is about. Don’t get mad at us for not knowing that you really meant “life sucks and I need a hug”, when you said “I’m fine”, okay?  11. Generally, we care less for emotions than facts. Not because we don’t have emotions or don’t care about others - believe me, we do - but because they are a very uncertain navigation tool for us. It often makes us end up in situations where we come off as cold, indifferent, hard or just socially very awkward. As an autistic woman, this is often way, way more difficult with non-autistic women. I’ve lost count on how many girlfriends I’ve lost because of my inability to read between the lines and their inability to speak plainly. 12. It’s a tricky disability, because it takes so many different shapes. Sometimes it’s not visible at all, sometimes it’s even a strenght. Some of my autistic features, I wouldn’t want to live without. Others have the capacity of literally ruining my life. To be a 30+ female with an objectively smart brain in some areas, that somehow fails miserably with food, cleaning, remembering where things are, keep even basic order, doing the dishes, focus on studies, finishing tasks, shift focus and has such difficulties with surveying, short term memory and sense of time, is not a minor inconvenience - it’s a neverending, daily struggle that drains me and makes me feel like a complete failure.  Lot’s of girls and women with autism and ADD, never get the help they need, because we’re so good at hiding our difficulties. The diagnoses still very much describes boys and men within the spectrum, but girls and women often have a bit different symptomes - and we’re good at hiding them. Our family, teachers and friends, may not see our difficulties as “real” difficulties, especially not if we are high functioning in some ways. People think that since I read at least five times faster than the avarage person, that means I must be smart in “simpler” areas, like keeping track of time or knowing proper social behavior. But autism doesn’t work that way and even when our difficulties aren’t shown, they’re still there and make our lives harder than others. It’s not whining, it’s telling it like it is. And if “pull yourself together and just get more organized” helped, believe me, we all would’ve been fucking masters on organizing, planning and prioritizing - and you would’ve begged for our assistance. But, alas, it doesn’t work that way. Do you even think that an autistic brain, who craves logic and order, would freely live in chaos if it could maintain order just by “pulling itself together”? Really? No, I didn’t think so. The world isn’t nice to an autistic brain. And if you, like me, have been blessed/cursed with ADD as well, the world could be your fucking arch enemy.  So, if you’re a girl or woman with autism or ADD or both - or just suspect you might have it, or maybe just think “holy fuck, some of this shit actually describes some of what I’m feeling and thought I was alone and just a fucking failure”, I want to say: You’re not alone, you’re not crazy and you’re not a failure. Your brain simply works different and you have the right to both ask for help and guidance with the struggles that you may feel embarressed about not getting right, and to find ways to use your strenghts and enjoy life on your terms. You’re not spoiled, you’re not a “snowflake”, not a brat or a lazy bastard just because people can’t see your struggles. Be nice to yourself. For many years, I wasn’t. And sometimes I’m still not. I wake up in the mornings, longing for normality, for control and a quiet brain. I accuse myself, I’m unforgiving and ashamed. And then, when I’ve walked down that spiral, I somehow always get back again. And I realise I kick ass, for going through life and not giving up. That I’m not a brat for wanting what the people accusing me of being lazy, unfocused, rude or stupid are taking for granted: a mind that doesn’t constantly, 24/7, does it’s best to fuck up normality in an endless guerilla war you didn’t asked to be a part of.      

[sarahinzhuhai-blog]

Week 2: I can't think of a title

Friends, family, strangers, what’s poppin? Week 2 in 中国 has come to a close and it was a wild one. This blogging on Sunday thing is really great for my procrastination-loving heart, and really bad for actually remembering things, so bear with me. You might notice this is getting posted on Friday, and not Sunday. Well, that’s because of some ~~fun~~ circumstances that you can find out about in next weeks post! Sorry! // 周一（zhōuyī，Monday): Monday started off without a dictation, because 车老师 is a wonderful person who doesn’t believe in weekend homework. Class was, as usual, an information overload, but still fun. We played a new game in class (where people have a verb or noun on their head and you have to ask questions, etc to make them say the word or do the action). Another thing: in Chinese, there is a particle, “了”， that has always confused me (it has many different uses, and I’m not sure when to use it and when not to). So I decided to ask my 语伴. This turned into a conversation with 车老师, the TAs, other 语伴s and on Tuesday, another professor. The question asking went an extra half hour into lunch and then I ended up eating with 车老师， one of the TAs and my 语伴。 I didn’t leave my question asking behind in America, I guess. I was very tired all day because I was up so late blogging the night before 👀…oops. At the end of the day, instead of meeting with our 语伴s (yǔbàn，language partner) for 30 minutes, we met for community service. The project they have selected for us to do this year is to help raise awareness about and reduce plastic bag usage and waste, which is a huge problem in China. To give you some context, Zhuhai is considered one of the cleanest cities in China, but the beaches are riddled with trash. It’s shocking. The plan for our projects was, on Monday we would write a survey and have our 语伴s help us translate it, on Tuesday we would go out and survey people on campus, on Thursday we would plan out our "propaganda” campaign and later in the month we would go out and talk with the public and get people to pledge to change their actions (with the pledge varying with each groups different approach to the issue). My group is me, Richa, Zack and Garrett. Monday was pretty rough. I was really tired and irritable, and I felt like a lot of responsibility was falling on me but I felt that way because I wasn’t sharing responsibilities….anyways, Richa and I talked afterwards so we’re all good now. We finished using the questions and I took the bus home with Matthew after hitting up the supermarket with Matthew and Anthony. // My sister had four of her finals today, and she said they went well, so I went out to dinner to celebrate with my mom and sister. It was so, so good. Pork, goose, noodles, vegetables, fried rice, watermelon, guava...all delicious! It was my first time trying goose, and I have mixed but mostly positive feelings. // Afterwards, we went to 笑笑’s friends house. I got to meet the friend, her little 9mo brother, the mom, dad, and grandparents. I held the brother (who was SO CUTE and very fascinated by me), talked a little bit with the family, helped the mom translate a work email, got a tour of the house, ate lychees and gave my little sister and her friend a ballet lesson. It was so much fun, and definitely lifted my mood from earlier in the day. I walked home in high spirits. // 周二（zhōuèr，Tuesday): Tuesday was the 4th of July! I told my mom in the morning and she offered me a white rabbit candy, which I thought was pretty funny but thoughtful at the same time. Got the 了question figured out at the beginning of lunch (I’m so grateful that literally everyone involved in the program is so willing to help). After lunch, we played a version of Monday’s game with all verbs (it was sort of a mess, a lot of English was spoken, but we had a good time). Chris, BBC and Queen Isabel joined us for that–-in the end, it boiled down to people forcing Shayley to take a selfie with them. I was eliminated early in the game when I flashed a peace sign. // Community service was very interesting. It started off with Grace and Emily getting us all watermelon to celebrate the 4th, which was very thoughtful! Since we are still in the thick of monsoon season, the weather continues to alternate between rain so hard it could flash flood up to your ankles (this happened to my 语伴）and hours of sunshine. Consequently, we decided to survey people who were inside major buildings on campus rather than walking around. My group picked the library. Since only half of the 语伴s came to help with the day's activities, Outing and Chris had to help another group, so learned how to say “traitor" in order to tell Outing how betrayed I felt. // Surveying people was fun, but a challenge…we split our group in half, so Garrett, me and my 语伴 formed one team. We interviewed about 8 people (could have been 9 if the police officer had agreed), and unless we were asking the simpler questions, I couldn’t understand a lot of what they were saying…but I got the gist, and the gist was that most of them were aware of the problem and did some things to cut down on their waste (some more than others…one guy was just totally unaware), but often didn’t have convenient access to recycling services. This is definitely a problem I have run across these few weeks. That being said, we don’t have the means to change city infrastructure, so my group decided that our focus would be encouraging people to use reusable bags and bottles, cutting down the waste at the source (it’s common for people to use 1-2 plastic bottles a day here). // After community service concluded, we were originally planning on going to a Starbucks by the beach and seeing the lovers post office (a famous site here), but the rain cancelled those plans so we settled on KTV instead. Unfortunately, the canteen KTV was closed, so Chris took us to a KTV in the middle of nowhere (aka Huitong, I think) near the edge of campus. On our way there, Alec and Anthony blasted music out of the speaker they bought at Gongbei. The most memorable moment of the walk was dancing to YMCA on the median (and everywhere else tbh we listened to the song like 20 times) and getting filmed by a police officer who thought it was funny. Also practicing my angry Chinese and making a guy who walked by laugh. KTV was really fun--we sang lots of American songs (we belted out Party in the USA more than once) and had a blast even though the program didn’t appear to have any song from after 2010. There was no Lana del Rey, so BBC and I sang Adele instead. While I did enjoy myself, my fun was sort of ruined by the fact that I was in the middle of having what I would describe as not-quite-an-anxiety-attack-but-getting-there because of a dog that we passed that was in really, really bad shape. I won’t go into the details again but I’m constantly frustrated here by the low standard for animal care and the lack of humane societies, etc…I understand that it’s not a priority at the moment but that doesn’t make it any less saddening, frustrating, etc. Queen Isabel and several of my friends (shoutout to Grace, Lexi, Josh, Alec and BBC...y'all are the best) helped me through it and I still managed to enjoy the evening. I had a few McDonalds fries (which was concerning because I had told my parents I was going to eat a full dinner), and Chris helped me and Alec call a cab to get home. // Once I arrived home, my mom brought out some mussels (? Some sort of shell thing) and told me that I had to eat it right now or it would go bad. So we had mussels, apples, bread and milk. A very confusing dinner but very good nonetheless. My sister asked me if I wanted to watch a certain TV show and at first I didn’t know what she was talking about, but then I realized it’s actually a show I watch online in the States and got h y p e d // In the middle of the show, my mom yelled really loud and then my sister started yelling too. At first, I was really confused but I soon found out that my sister was one of three in four hundred to get 100% on her exams. Then I started yelling too. I understood a few things my dad said for the first time (which surprised BOTH of us) and generally had a good evening. My dad told me I should call my actual mom and dad every day, so I called my actual parents before bed and ended up staying up super late again. Oops (are you seeing a pattern here?). Anyways, it was a roller coaster of an evening but everything turned out alright! // 周三（zhōusān, Wednesday): Classes were alright as usual. We’ve started “learning” song lyrics during the after lunch class. Oh yeah, one thing I forgot to mention is that I found out two of the TAs (one of whom I was very intimidated by before) are big kpop fans! They played a song on Tuesday on the projector (车老师 commented that the only kpop group she knew was BIGBANG), which was already a bop, but on Wednesday I found out that Ruby and I are both major BTS fans (specifically, I described them as my favorite group on the planet and she agreed). I did one of the dances I learned for her (she filmed it 😂) and she then immediately added me on multiple social media platforms. You can make fun of me all you want, but Kpop has been the common interest that allowed me to bond with many people here (we’re talking 30-50% of all the Chinese people I have made friendships with). Anyways, after having a fun time in class (we also did calligraphy practice today), we headed to culture class. This week we learned 空竹（kōngzhú， aka Diabolo aka Chinese Yoyo). The class was the most fun after I accepted that I was going to do terribly and focused on having a good time and getting a solid grasp on the basics. My group was Garrett, Sydney, Abigale and Outing as our 语伴（so I stopped calling him traitor). By the end of class, I was definitely still in the bottom 3 but I could do several tricks. After class, Alec, Maya, Garrett and I went to McDonalds at the transfer station (which is waaayyy better than McDonalds in America) and got green tea soft serve. It was really good (especially knowing that, just like on America, McDs ice cream machine se are perpetually broken here), but Garrett said he would never order another matcha flavored thing in his life. Afterwards, we took the bus home together...Maya took the wrong bus. // Feeling content, I got home to an empty house. My mom came home briefly, and imagine my surprise when she pulled out two pieces of apple pie and offered me one. Oops, not a good day to have a gigantic ice cream after school (and a small one at lunch). So I had the pie, then she made dinner (I’m confused about the order too…) and left again. // I decided to give my friend 朱明亮 a call and we talked for the better part of an hour. It was so nice to actually be able to speak and understand Chinese…maybe it’s the accent in Guangdong or maybe I’m just bad at Chinese but I never know what people are saying and it’s incredibly frustrating (I especially can’t understand guys..maybe because of the lower register). While we talked, I practiced my left hand chopstick skills...we don't need to talk about how that went. After the conversation, I practiced piano for Saturday (more details on that in a sec), did my homework (sort of) and went to bed. // 周四（Zhōusì, Thursday): Thursday’s classes were hard. We covered a LOT of grammar points and it was a lot to take in. This whole week was a lot to take in in terms of course material…this class moves almost 3x the pace of my normal class at school. Since this weekend's cultural excursion would be a visit to Guangzhou, the TAs gave us a class on the history of Guangzhou and some cool places to visit there. Then they presented the stamp winners for the week. This week, stamps were kept in a public place, so I got a little more competitive. My efforts paid off, however, because I got that #1. // After class, it was time for community service again. My group wrote our campaign, Chris helped us create a slogan and we designed t-shirts. Since our group wasn’t focused the whole time and we talked a lot about what we were doing, we haven’t actually translated the elevator pitch to Chinese but that’s okay. Also, I definitely didn’t write the wrong character in the slogan on the back of the shirt...I don’t know what you’re talking about. Zack got w o k e about plastic pollution in China and our final slogan is: “笑笑改变，大有不同 - Cleaner Zhuhai, Brand New City” (Translation: “A small change can make a big difference"which is already apparently a phrase charged with environmental connotations according to Chris, so that’s good). After community service, Maya and I definitely didn’t go do ballet in a studio on campus. Nope. I definitely wasn’t instructed to keep that on the DL (which is equally fun to say in Chinese, as it turns out). Other things that definitely did not happen: 1) being super out of shape and barely being able to do a grande plié 2) Having a really awkward conversation when two university students who were actually supposed to be there came in to use the room. After not-dancing, Maya took the wrong bus so she could ride with me, and I headed home to practice piano, pack up for Guangzhou, and otherwise prepare. // 周五（zhōuwǔ，Friday）: On Friday morning, we met up at the hotel and took the bus to Guangzhou. I tried to sleep a bit on the way there, but the scenery outside was really cool (SO different from the US omg) and the kids sitting in the back of the bus were blasting music (YMCA made a comeback), but the music was good so I can’t complain. My favorite was when they played "Empire State of Mind” but sang “Guangzhou” every time Alicia Keys said New York. Our first stop was the American Consulate in Guangzhou. After getting through security, we entered the building and I immediately felt like I was in America again. Maybe it was the super strong AC. Maybe it was the bathrooms (which not only had the first western toilets I had seen in two weeks but TP, soap and paper towels. I literally did a celebratory dance. There were several witnesses). Maybe it was the diplomat who spoke with us’ southern accent. Or maybe it was the fact that technically we had returned to America (apparently the consulate is considered American territory? According to Anthony). Anyways, after speaking with a Foreign Service Officer about his job, the role of the US embassies in China and of the Guangzhou consulate in particular, we bid our farewells. Leaving the consulate and returning to daily life in China was a weird and unexpected shock to my system. I don’t know what happened inside that consulate but it was like a weird mindset shift. Anyways, soon enough I was back to normal. Our next stop was a restaurant called Panxi. This was, no exaggeration, the most amazing restaurant I’ve been to in my entire life. Not because of the food (although the food was good), but because of the building itself. We entered into a courtyard where there was a waterfall (not a baby one but like 14+ feet) flowing into a koi pond, lanterns hanging from the wooden roof over the walkways, and several pathways leading to different rooms where we could eat. Our room was not only overlooking a pond, but appeared to be over the pond. It was absolutely gorgeous, and I had a great time chatting with friends as we watched the monsoon rain pelt the surface of the water. We also watched construction take place on the building, and construction is terrifying here. They use bamboo scaffolding, and it seems really unsteady and no one uses harnesses, even if three stories high. I have seen this in both Zhuhai and Guangzhou and it is very impressive but very nervewracking. // After lunch, we went to two museums–the Thirteen Hongs museum and the Liwan museum. The former was a museum that talked about the history of the Thirteen Hongs, which were a group of businessmen/companies that were the only ones licensed to do business with foreign countries during the Qing dynasty (the last dynasty before the Republic of China). They did their trading out of Guangzhou, and the museum was full of items that were traded,old maps, information, paintings, everything you can imagine. Guangzhou has a history of combining East and West (because of the Thirteen Hongs situation, I think), and this manifested itself in very interesting ways. One of the most interesting things I saw at the museum (although everything was absolutely stunning; the intricacy and care that went into every product was overwhelming) was a shell carving that had been done by a Chinese artist of the Last Supper and other Biblical scenes. Guangzhou also has a much higher foreigner population than Zhuhai (I saw more there in two days than in my entire time in Zhuhai). The second museum, called the Liwan museum, was a replica of a typical Xiguan house, which were a group of people that often did business with/interacted with foreigners. As such, several architectural elements included Western components. That being said, a lot of the house was built with traditional Chinese beliefs (and some specific to Guangdong/Guangzhou, e.g. Things related to how words sound in Cantonese), which was very interesting. Afterwards, we were given time to explore this very pretty little area of town. Richa and I paired off and saw a shrine, traditional opera, passed by a beautiful lake (which had some boats underwater that were clearly there on purpose but for no apparent reason), several vendors, and met some people who were very excited to say Hello to us. We also might have gotten followed briefly but 没关系。We were supposed to get dinner on our own, but we didn’t realize where we were supposed to go (up this one road) so we quickly walked over there, got 包子 and milk tea (I was very proud of us for successfully ordering both in Chinese and surviving when the 包子store owner tried to hold a conversation with us…I have a feeling neither of us were understanding each other but that’s pretty standard for my conversations here so I’m not worried about it). After, we rode the bus to a ferry stop by the Pearl River and were given time to walk around. Grace, Maya and I walked together. The experience started off by me getting yelled at at full volume by a old guy on a bike with some baskets because I didn’t realize I was in his way. Some bystanders found this hilarious, I did not. After our walk up and down the river, we ran to make it back on time and got on the ferry. The ferry was ~awesome~. We got to see the lights of the city at night (and on the water), and got to go up close to the Guangzhou tower (which is the seventh tallest building in the world, apparently). It was absolutely gorgeous (I’m not doing it justice with my words here). Also, after helping these people take a picture, they asked to take a picture with me which is the first time I’ve been asked for a picture in China (yay?). I also got to talk to Grace a lot which was really nice, she is very similar to me and I enjoy her company. After the ferry, we headed to the hotel. For this trip, I roomed with Tully. Before room checks, after a failed attempt to go to the roof, we all met up in Garrett’s room. Matthew was spooked because the room across (next to?) his and Josh’s was room 444 (which is, like, the worst and most unlucky number possible here…I’m actually surprised the hotel has one) and then their lights went out, so he was doing martial arts. It was very intimidating. Josh, Maya, Anthony and I then spent the hour stretching (or in Josh’s case, struggling and suffering) and goofing around. The stretching was prompted by Katie showing all of us that she is RIDICULOUSLY flexible (after which I encouraged her to take up ballet), which made Garrett look physically pained just from watching. After curfew, Tully and I talked, which was mice because I don’t see her or talk to her a lot, and we went to sleep without showering because the room was kinda gross. // 周六（zhōuliù，Saturday): Saturday was just as wild as Friday, if not more so (which I didn’t think was possible). The first order of business was breakfast. Fully, David, Abigale, Shayley, Maya, Reyna, maybe Zack (sorry I forgot) and I went to a local shop to eat 肠粉 (chángfěn），a Guangdong specialty. It’s a dish that they make by pouring out rice batter (that’s definitely the wrong word) in a thin layer on a sheet, adding veggies and/or egg and/or meat and then cooking it (I think they steamed it). Then they roll it all up and cover it with a sauce. I had the veggie one and some chocolate bean milk thing (as far as I know) and it was very delicious. Then we were off to a local elementary school. They gave us an orchestra performance using traditional Chinese instruments and these kids were crazy good. They were between ages 7 and 11 and they had been selected to join this orchestra. Saturday was their first day of break but they all seemed happy to be there. After a few traditional songs, they let us go up to kids and have them teach us how to play. I tried out the guzheng (which was super cool), the erhu (which I was terrible at but had fun with) and another instrument whose name I forget right now (you use hammers to hit strings and I was very very confused and bad at it). Most of the kids I talked to were practicing an hour or more a day, and were very very good. One kid who stood out was a guy who could play both the hammer+strong instrument and a Chinese drum. When they went around and introduced all the instruments to us, kids did solos on each instrument and he did the drum-it was stunning. He played so quickly and precisely!!! Then, it was time for us to perform for them. I played the Rachmaninoff Prelude (a shortened version), but I sort of botched the performance and I’m not sure why. Then we all sang the chorus of “对不起” (the song about our Chinese being bad) and the kids played more traditional music and a western classical song adapted to their orchestra (which was really cool). After, I was feeling kind of crappy about my performance when we went down to the bottom level and goofed around on the playground before taking some pictures with the kids and heading out. Imagine my surprise when one kid asked for my autograph, and then suddenly a group of kids all wanted me to sign things and give them my WeChat username. That was quite literally my 15 minutes of fame! // After heading out, we spent a few minutes in a square nearby (some of my new elementary school friends were there) and then headed to lunch. Lunch was not as good, which was probably not helped by the fact that there were several older guys smoking inside. This is one of the things I’ve had a lot of trouble getting used to here–there are a LOT of smokers here, and while I often see signs inside that say no smoking, I also have gotten used to seeing ashtrays inside those very same rooms. The toilet experience there was….unpleasant, and then we were off to a tea house. // As we got off the bus and began to walk to the tea house, rain was POURING. I was wearing my rap jacket (I forgot my umbrella at school, oops) and by the time we entered the tea house, my entire lower half was drenched. I spent the first few minutes awkwardly wringing out my dress and using tissues to attempt to dry myself off. // This teahouse was very different from the one my mom took me to; rather than one table, it had three stories, multiple side rooms, and many many many different kinds of tea (for a significant price). One of the coolest things was getting to talk to the owner about his company (he also owns a tea bank and apparently a mountain? I heard he rents the mountain? Not super clear), getting to see this big wood fourpostbed-looking thing that people would drink tea at from the Qing dynasty, and getting to have a conversation (entirely in Chinese) with one of the ladies about the different tools used at the table. The latter was a bit stressful because I couldn’t understand a lot, but I had to help my friends. We got the gist of what was going on, so all was well. Afterwards, we headed down for the tea ceremony. I have always thought of drinking tea as a quiet affair, but there were three guys there who were really loud and an absolute RIOT. One of them really hit it off with Alec and Isabel, and I will cherish the memory of them all loudly yelling 干杯(gānbēi，cheers, coincidentally one of this weeks vocabulary words) and making everyone on our half of the gigantic wooden table toast (and then them taking selfies together), which I’m pretty sure isn’t traditional tea protocol 😂 After tea, they gave us each a bag that had information and a teacup in it (!), which was super generous, and we were swept back onto the bus. // A few hours later, we were back in Zhuhai. Everyday Zhuhai feels more and more like home, so I am getting more and more sad at the thought of having to say goodbye. But returning to Zhuhai didn’t mean my excitement was over for the day. My sister had a piano recital, and I was in charge of getting myself there. My mom had sent me directions for which bus stops to take, and the first ride went perfectly. But then, there were no busses coming any time soon to my intermediate stop, so I had a problem. My mom told me to take a taxi, and if I couldn’t figure it out, to ask someone at the station to help me. No one was at the station. Now, in case you were wondering, here’s a list of things I have never done: 1) Taken a taxi by myself 2) Completed a taxi transaction in an unfamiliar place in the middle of China 3) Completed a taxi transaction in Chinese. Well, I’m proud to say that I managed to do all 3, and I even had a conversation with the driver about how long he had been driving, how long he had been in Zhuhai, how long I had been in China, etc. He helped me find my building, and my journey was complete! My mom was very proud/impressed/surprised that I had successfully navigated (I was a little concerned at how surprised she was), and I was greeted with a good old fashioned fast food dinner of French fries, a chicken sandwich and soda. That was a little bit of a shock to my system (the first "American” meal I’d had since I arrived) but a welcome taste from home. After, we headed upstairs to watch the recital. //The recital was my little sister and a bunch of high school students, and some of these kids were really good. One girl was 15 and played 4 songs, including a full sonata and the Revolutionary Etude. I was floored by her talent. At the end of the show, I ended up befriending her and a few other students. I’m excited to have some friends that are around my age! I goofed around on one of the pianos outside during intermission (aka poorly played Rachmaninoff and Chopin) and some people started filming me…not because it was really good, just because I’m a 外国人 . I don’t mind, it’s just a little odd when people take pictures of you/film you without ever talking to you or asking permission. // 周日（zhōurì，Sunday): After the excitement of the past few days, Sunday was a welcome rest. I woke up a little later than usual and my family and I went out to 早茶(zǎochá）, which translates to morning tea but is actually like lots of small dishes that you can eat for breakfast or lunch or in our case, brunch. We had 早茶 in this really cool restaurant where the top floors were hotel rooms and the bottom floors were like hotel rooms but for eating. Each party gets its own room with a table and very nice bathroom. The bathrooms had western toilets, toilet paper AND soap so the restaurant definitely got my stamp of approval. Okay, back to the food. We had everything from red bean buns shaped like pigs (which were SO CUTE) to squares of what looked like super fancy layered jello (I would say the flavor but I have no idea what the flavor was). It was very delicious but my stomach got a little overwhelmed by how many sweet and oily things there were. When I declined sugar in my warm milk drink, my mom declined it for me first and told my dad (in Chinese) that I was afraid of getting fat and so I wouldn’t want any. I retorted that I was not in fact afraid of getting fat and that I just didn’t want sugar in my drink. I think she thinks this because I don’t eat a lot, but I DO eat a lot (I was literally never hungry the first week because I am constantly being fed or having more food put on my plate). Confusing remarks aside, I had a really nice meal and this was the first time our whole family sat down at the same table to eat together, so I enjoyed the morning. Then, my dad, sister and I took the train that goes alongside the road home, which was very nice and a fun new experience. // After getting home, my sister and I both worked on homework. She asked me to help her translate the English text she was reading into Chinese, but my Chinese wasn’t good enough so I was pretty useless there. Her homework and mine made me so tired I fell asleep (that’s my homework strategy in America too…I’m a consistent student). After I woke up, Maya and I decided to meet up to hang out in TangJia. I took the bus over and had a really nice time walking in the park and goofing around on all the exercise equipment with her (despite the weird looks we got from some police officers). It was also nice to have a long, peaceful conversation with a friend after such a whirlwind of a week. I came home for dinner, watched TV with the fam, and started writing this blog post!// Okay this last part is going to be a little TMI, so if that’s not your thing, catch you next week. For you brave souls, I have a few more comments to make. 1) Being a girl and dealing with all the bodily functions that come as a result of that is Not A Fun Time in China. It’s annoying and inconvenient and has made me like squat pots less. 2) Having some stomach emergencies during your sisters piano recitals intermission and then running out of tissues in the land of no-TP-in-public-restrooms is an experience you won’t and can’t forget. // Okay, that’s it for this week! ✌️️

[discoabc]

Ch 4 Deleted Scene: Chinese Whispers

A/N: I was looking through all the versions of chapters I rewrote and found this one from ages ago! I deleted it for multiple reasons but I thought the game Sakura described was quite a fun idea : )

There were perks to being Ami’s self-proclaimed friend that began to make up for the irritating fact that I had to interact with her, a child and, worse, a child bully. She was the kind of girl I would’ve have avoided like the plague when I was mentally her age, too humiliated by her stupid, immature insults to ever stand up for myself. I imagined the original Sakura would’ve gagged at the sight of me sitting with her to eat lunch.

But it meant I didn’t have to ever worry about accidentally having any of the rookie nine attach themselves to me. Ami was fairly disliked by a lot of my classmates, especially the smarter ones who could see how awful she could be. Apparently, her random insulting of me hadn’t been by chance, she’d in fact been going around to those who hadn’t found a group of friends yet or people she considered below her and just reeled off the remarks meant to hurt.

Luckily, she’d yet to have fired off her mouth at Hinata when she had decided we were friends and I’d managed to discourage her from saying anything to the Hyuga heiress. Hinata was as sweet as she was shy, and I felt often a painful kind of second-hand anxiety for the girl. Bullying at school was the last thing she wanted considering her life at home wasn’t free from carefully aimed insults.

Aside from being able to avoid those I wanted to avoid and carefully point the gun of Aimi’s sneers away from those who didn’t deserve it in the slightest, the girl came in useful as we were made often by Iruka to work in groups. I hadn’t exactly dreaded not being able to find a group accepting of me joining them, but it made things simpler when Ami included me without thinking, glaring at anyone who suggested I wasn’t welcome in her clique.

It took a little while for me to stop her trying to get me to sit beside her in lesson rather than the bench behind the girl though. I wanted to concentrate during class, or at least give off the impression that I was so Iruka didn’t pencil me down as a problem child. Usually I didn’t have to feign interest, although often not because of the actual topic being discussed but the implications of it.

We had the ninja rules shoved down our throat fairly early on and were reminded of them daily. Sometimes we had tests on them just to see if we remembered what they were, and those were the tests I realized fairly quickly weren’t ones for me to pretend I didn’t know them as well as I did. The average for them was one hundred percent starting front the third week. Even Naruto could recite most of them by then (if with slightly different wording that is).

The speed at which we were indoctrinated into the system was almost terrifying. Our pride in our village was also inflated quickly through very biased tales of our previous Hokages and other well-known ninjas alongside much repetition of the importance of the Will of Fire. The love for Konoha was drilled into us so much that eventually it became easy to think you’d always thought so highly of your home and were more than prepared to protect it with a patriotic zeal!

As someone who refused any attempt at this child-friendly brainwashing, it was morbidly fascinating to watch as my classmates, who previously hadn’t cared that much about Konoha as a whole, began to mention their love for our village more frequently and have it stay at the forefront of their minds.

Aside from the ninja code being engraved into our brains and artificial emotions being grown in us, we learnt the barest basics of maths and even then only things that would be useful to us as ninja. Instead of studying books for literature and language classes, we were taught about simple codes and the Konoha sign language alongside other general signs that even civilians might know due to their literal nature. Games my classmates assumed were for fun breaks between lessons were in fact exercises meant to improve our teamwork and intelligence gathering skills.

A favourite game of mine was a strange version of Chinese Whispers. The main goal was to get the message from the informant to Iruka, who took the role of the Hokage. A handful of people however were chosen to be the spies and enemy ninja whose aim was to change the message so no useful information would be passed on. The informant couldn’t directly pass on the message to the Hokage and could only say it three times to three different people. Likewise, everyone playing the game was restricted to whispering the information into someone’s ear at most three times, although it could be to the same person. The last person who was able to speak after the information had been tossed around the entire class was the one who told the Hokage the message. The final twist was that, if rightly accused, the enemy ninja was removed from the game and no longer allowed to play. But accuse wrongly and you and the innocent accused were removed.

As soon as the rules were ingrained in our minds, the game became increasingly complex. People would start trying to catch out the enemies by lying themselves, silent alliances were built between people, and spies would start accusing innocent classmates to throw off the suspicion placed on their allies that they were visibly communicating with. Sign language was technically cheating but we all started making our own specific signs. Iruka would catch on after a while and we’d be forced to stop only to start up new signals.

I loved it with surprising fierceness. Perhaps it was because it was one of the few times I didn’t have to act completely average. It was such a complex game that any genius move I implemented could easily be discounted as luck or even not ever be noticed. I had fun playing it.

Fun, as long as Naruto wasn’t ruining the game. Since a lot of our classmates were now obviously ignoring him, he’d taken up his infuriating class clown role. That meant sometimes whispering purposefully loud so everyone could hear. Other times he would change the message into an insult about Iruka and get us all into trouble when the message was spoken at the end. At first even I found it a little funny. Now it was just a hindrance to the one thing I really enjoyed.

For god’s sake Naruto, I am trying to tell Iruka that we must move now to save a small village we trade with before our enemies burn it down and kill all men, women and children, would you just piss off?!

Our PE classes weren’t as rigorous as I’d thought they’d be. Since we were still in young, fragile bodies, sparring wasn’t allowed until next year (which would be such a different time, I thought whilst internally rolling my eyes). Sharp weaponry couldn’t be touched for a whole eighteen months too, and we certainly wouldn’t be learning how to use any explosive tags or smoke bombs until we were nine or so. So instead we did the extreme basics. Our hand-eye coordination was improved by throwing games, at first using balls and later more strangely shaped objects. We ran increasingly longer distances to improve our stamina. Climbing walls and scaling trees without our chakra was a must.

It became a more intense lesson when everyone started enhancing their limbs with more chakra unconsciously to keep up with our training. My awareness of my chakra became a hindrance as I had to concentrate it to specific parts of my body, not too much so I was moving way faster than my peers but not too little so I lagged behind. PE became a class of physical and mental exhaustion.