#because i don’t love my family apparently which admittedly is one of her favorite phrases to use at me

[lilyaceofdiamonds]

The sentence ‘my mother is pissed at me because i refuse to quit my retail job so i can fly to [redacted state] for christmas and when i said they could come to my state she said they had already bought tickets’ is just. How does that even sound real.

[usergreenpixel]

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 7: SCARAMOUCHE (1921)

Hello, Citizens, and welcome to the seventh meeting of our lovely Convention!

I deeply appreciate your wishes for my speedy recovery and I assure you that I’m right as rain.

So, with that out of the way, let us begin.

1. Introduction

“Scaramouche” is a historical fiction novel written by Rafael Sabatini, who might be familiar to some of you via works like “Captain Blood”, which was among my favorite novel series when I was growing up as I’ve always loved (and still love) me a good swashbuckling story and I never quite grew out of these tastes in literature.

In the case of this novel, it never was a blip on my radar when I was a kid but my renewed interest in the French Revolution and my research of topics for future reviews led me to this story. Apparently there’s a sequel and I might review it in the future.

I found the ebook readily available in English on Project Gutenberg so it’s pretty much in public domain now.

I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that there’s a swashbuckling novel set in Frev - the setting is like a perfect fertile soil for external and internal conflicts, adventures and drama, so it was only a matter of time before someone came up with an adventure novel in this setting.

That being said, at first I had quite a few fears that this book would be just another propaganda piece, especially since the author was technically Anglophone.

Did my fears come true? Let’s find out.

2. The Summary

The story’s protagonist is one André-Louis Moreau - a ward and godson to a Breton nobleman and a lawyer by education who swears revenge on a Marquis who kills his friend in a duel.

To escape the gallows after landing himself in hot water for igniting the fire of revolution in Rennes and Nantes, André-Louis joins a troupe of traveling actors and performs as a character called Scaramouche, hence the title.

3. The Story

Like I said, I have a soft spot for swashbuckling novels so I actually quite enjoyed reading the book. And, on a pleasantly surprising note, the revolution is NOT demonized. If anything, the protagonist actually becomes an idealistic republican by the end, which is a really uncommon narrative choice in Frev media.

The narrative clearly portrays the nobility as too privileged and corrupt and the people are in the right - at least, this is what the protagonist understands during his arc.

There’s also not that much Thermidorian bullshit, at least no popular stereotypes, which I really appreciate.

That being said, I do have three main issues with the story.

Firstly, sometimes there’s too much filler and it feels like the narrative is barely dragging along, which got tiresome at times.

Secondly, I didn’t like the romantic subplot between André and the niece of his godfather, Aline. For context, the two were childhood playmates and grew up referring to each other as cousins, only to fall in love as adults.

Maybe it’s just me, but I find romance between family members (no matter how honorary) gross even if there are no shared genes involved. I know cousin marriages were more common in the past but personally I think the novel would’ve benefited from Aline and André only sharing a platonic bond and familial love.

(Spoiler alert!)

Thirdly, I highly doubt the “I’m your father” twist was necessary here as I usually dislike such plot points because they’re hard to do right.

Here there was no proper building up to the revelation, at least in my opinion, and the twist itself can (and most likely will) seem predictable to modern audiences.

However, it was resolved in a fairly realistic way. Marquis de la Tour and André don’t immediately reconcile just because they’re father and son but André calls off his revenge quest, grants the Marquis a safe passage out of the country and doesn’t want to see him again, which is understandable considering their prior enmity.

On that note, let’s take a closer look at the characters.

4. The Characters

Right off the bat, the biggest issue the modern readers might have is that the characters are too “black and white”. In the era of “grey morality” and complex characters, these archetypes might come off as done to death and boring but, other than that, the characters were mostly easy to empathize with.

Personally, I didn’t like André himself in the beginning but he grew on me.

He starts off as a stoic almost to the point of coldness, a cynic and a borderline nihilist who believes fighting against the noble class is futile and there’s no point in trying to improve the country.

But when his idealistic best friend is killed, André vows to take the Marquis down by using the volatile revolutionary climate to his advantage. Slowly, André too becomes a revolutionary and an idealist, which is admittedly rare as usually people in stories become cynical by the end.

Seeing this character ark but played in reverse felt quite refreshing to me so even though at times André’s sarcasm and stoic attitude made him insufferable, I think he is pretty well-written and fleshed out as a protagonist.

Next is Aline, and unfortunately she is underdeveloped in the novel, more so than a female lead should be. She is ambitious, which makes her consider marrying the Marquis, prejudiced against actors due to her upbringing and in general is a typical noble ingenue.

Her and André are playfully witty at times and verbally cruel to each other at others and, unfortunately, they suffer from the “misunderstanding” trope which makes them unable to talk things out. I always find this trope annoying and, coupled with prejudice and not being fleshed out enough, it played into my apathy for Aline as a character.

Then there’s Marquis de la Tour, the typical privileged corrupt noble. He loves women, is a master of fencing and has no heart. André even calls him the embodiment of sin various times.

I know despicable people can and do exist, but here it seemed like he was made a bit too evil, to the point of being simply cartoonish and hard to perceive as a threat or, for that matter, take seriously.

At least he wasn’t threatening for me personally as a character and was more amusing than anything else.

Interestingly enough, historical figures don’t feature much in the story but we do get cameos of Marat, Danton, Robespierre and Desmoulins, as well as Mirabeau.

Mirabeau is called a hypocrite by the author but the other four, surprisingly, aren’t portrayed as evil villains. Marat is even called a philanthropist and his pamphlets inspire André! How rare is that, Citizens?!

Anyway, let’s continue.

5. The Setting

Although at times the text is overloaded with descriptions, all of them were vivid enough for me to imagine myself in the story with the characters.

Sabatini sure knows how to convey the images of villages, cities, nature, inns, etc in an exciting and engaging manner. I just wish that the descriptions were a bit shorter.

6. The Writing Style

Seeing as the novel was published in 1921 and I’m pretty good at English, I didn’t have many problems with reading but there were some outdated grammatical structures and vocabulary so be prepared.

Besides, in the version I read didn’t have translations of French and Latin phrases that occasionally pop up in the text, which was a bit annoying but not that much as I could understand the context of the phrases and therefore figure out what they mean more or less.

In general though, despite occasional overload of descriptions and the aforementioned grievances I have with the text, the writing style is engaging, very easy to understand and not too complex.

7. The Conclusion

In short, I can definitely recommend this novel to anyone who loves good swashbuckling stories and hates propaganda. Not the most original story but enjoyable and a good read regardless.

With that, I announce the end of the meeting. Stay tuned for updates and stay safe, Citizens!

Love,

- Citizen Green Pixel

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.1}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.6k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

Robin slumped down in her seat with a sigh and the oddly bittersweet feeling of melancholy mixed with excitement. Over the rim of her sunglasses, she observed how Jorien rolled her eyes at Cas, but helped her stow away her enormous bag in the overhead compartments nonetheless. It was still before noon, but the sun was already scorching Robin's skin as it flooded the compartment of the Hogwarts Express they had chosen to claim. The school year was over. Time to head back to London.

Minutes later, when the train slowly started moving and the two other girls finally sat down as well, Robin couldn't help feeling more excited than sad at last. Sure, leaving Hogwarts had always dimmed down her mood quite significantly, but this year it was a bit different. For one, she had intentionally chosen to take the train back to London together with her roommates. She also could've apparated back home, now that she had passed the class and gotten her license, but she had decided against it. Perhaps for nostalgic reasons, perhaps because of her constantly babbling but very much appreciated company. But most importantly –and therefore the real reason why she was more excited for the summer to start than dreading to part from her beloved castle– she actually had plans for the holidays for once. Plans which included two of her favorite things in the entire world; potions (in the broadest sense) and Snape. The latter obviously being more reason to her current excitement than the former, but ultimately she was very happy about both.

Really, she had been planning it for a while now. Robin wanted to continue her hunt for rare ingredients, or rather her studies thereof, and after the by now renown success she'd had last October, she had been quick to decide that she would spend the summer with the same kind of expeditions to confirm her theories. Obviously she wouldn't be able to work her way through the entire handbook, which she had kept on expanding and improving throughout the last year, but she would just start somewhere and work her way through as far as she got. Fortunately, from the very moment she had told Snape of her plans, he had been dead set on coming along, saying how it was far too dangerous to deal with some of the things she would necessarily have to encounter on her own, and after a while of teasing and prodding, he had also admitted that he simply wanted to do this together with her either way.

To Robin, the prospect of that, of their plans, was enough reason to keep smiling to herself from time to time, or really any time she thought of it. The only dimmer on her mood was that their adventures would only be able to start from next weekend on; before then, Snape was still stuck at Hogwarts for whatever boring thing Dumbledore had the professors do after the students had left, and Robin for her part had promised to wait until then. For his sake more than her own, and unfortunately, that left her with a week to spend with her parents. Lovely.

"Earth to Robin! What are you all smiley about?" Cas wondered loudly, snapping her fingers in front of Robin's face to get her attention.

"Oh, just excited about my plans for summer." She shrugged in return, yet again unable to stop grinning to herself. Damnit, she really was as subtle as a pink elephant.

"You actually have plans for once? After years of saying you literally don't care? Spill the tea, what's the story?" Jorien quirked an eyebrow at her in doubt and question, and Cas nodded in agreement to the objection.

"No story, I'm just excited, that's all."

"What's your plans then?"

"Proving my theories about different substances and ingredients, testing methods and means to find them, and improving all of it based on the results of practical research." Robin explained in one breath, and received two questioning looks in return. With a sigh and a smile she added, "I will travel around and look for plants and animals I can use for potions."

"Uuh, going on adventures! Why didn't you just say that!" Cas beamed in return, then went off into her own direction with it. "You should write a book about it! Or better, a comic! With moving pictures and all that kinda stuff! 'Robin the lone scientist'... How about that?"

"More like 'Robin the mad scientist'." Robin laughed in return, letting her head fall back against the seat for a moment until she could tone down her grin a little.

"Perhaps you should let us come with you! Then you certainly won't be alone anymore." Jorien mused carefully, more hopeful than intrusive, and Robin's eyes fell onto the two grinning girls again.

"I won't be alone at all, actually… My best friend is coming with me." She finally allowed herself to admit, and the words were already enough to make her skin tingle. Geez, she really shouldn't be this excited about it… but it didn't hurt anyone either.

"Oi, that mysterious guy you never lose more than a word about?" Cas' eyes lit up, and she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Perhaps you will finally get that passionate romance I've been hoping for!"

"Speaking of which, have you made plans to visit Simon?" Robin inquired, brutally changing the topic before they would try to snoop any more.

"Unfortunately, my parents aren't too fond of the idea of me having a boyfriend." The blonde rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, falling back into her seat with a huff. The grandeur of the gesture made Robin want to snort, but she suppressed it for empathy's sake. "So I probably won't see him at all until summer's over. I hope he doesn't find someone better than me in the meantime!"

"You can always write letters to him." Robin suggested with a shrug. "The anticipation and delay in that can be quite exciting as well. Carefully chosen words, the time taken to share a piece of one's mind with the other, the reassuring physicality of someone's handwriting on parchment…"

"You're terribly romantic, you know that?"

"Don't tell anyone." Robin replied, rising her eyebrows at them with a small smirk. "I have a reputation to uphold."

… … …

The one good thing once they arrived back in London, after Cas and Jorien had found their parents who had come to pick them up like always, was that Robin didn't have to deal with her trunk anymore. With a swoop of her wand, it shrunk down to a miniature and disappeared in the depth of her backpack. Thank God she was finally over seventeen… had been for a while now, actually. The summer would be so much more enjoyable now that she could use magic outside of school.

Instead of taking the first train back to Oxford like she usually did, Robin spent some time strolling around London. After all, she could be at home in a blink now whenever she fancied to be, and she didn't have luggage other than her backpack either. When she eventually sat down in a small cafe with a book Cas had practically forced upon her (not without making Robin actually promise to read it over summer), she couldn't help wondering what Snape might be up to right now. It was around this time when they would usually have pre-dinner coffee, or take a walk around the grounds, or set up for that evening's work in advance… oh bloody hell, she missed him already. But in the light of the impending week with her family, she also found herself missing Jorien and Cas. Anyone was better company than the people who were (probably not even) waiting for her in Oxford. For a moment, she wondered if they would care if she didn't come home today. If they would even notice.

Sighing, Robin ordered the largest coffee on the menu and then went to distract herself from the inevitable necessity to go home by reading Cas' book for now. It was the kind of read Robin wouldn't pick up even with her eyes closed; a cheesy romance novel about a girl around the same age as her, who slowly discovered the 'wonders' of love and physical intimacy in a plot that otherwise didn't even fit the romance. Robin couldn't help rolling her eyes every other page, but she had promised Cas that she would read it, and thus she had to suffer through all the drama and badly phrased make-out sessions now. Why on earth was this Cas' favorite book?! Admittedly, the girl deemed fashion magazines the high art of literature, but this… ugh. Sometimes Robin wished she didn't take her promises quite so seriously.

When her coffee was empty and a good third of the dreadful book behind her (which at some point had gotten a little less dreadful… not that she would ever admit that to anyone), she decided that it was late enough to make her way home at last. If she didn't want to sleep in the gutter, there was little else she could do. Well, technically she could camp out somewhere up north… she had everything she needed in her backpack… but some stupid part of her mind wanted to give her parents another chance to care. Some sparks of pathetic hope had crept through the cracks in her walls once again, even if she knew that she would only be disappointed again. It couldn't be helped either way. After paying for her coffee, she sought out the first space away from prying eyes, and finally went home in a swirl of time and space.

… … …

It had been three days, and Robin was already going insane. During her absence, her parents' house had turned into an outpost of the local university, or so it seemed. Not only had her bedroom been unrecognizable and all her things were packed up in boxes in the basement upon her arrival, but there simply were too many people around her on a constant basis, and no possibility to hide; Robin's parents, the three American scientists currently living with them, and usually two to five other people working on the same project even after hours. Begrudgingly Robin had accepted that she no longer had her own room in this house, and even that she had to live out of cardboard boxes for the moment… But the five other people living in this house with her currently were just too much.

The moment she'd come home on Monday evening she had noticed two things right away: One, her parents hadn't expected that she would actually want to sleep on the couch for more than a night. Two, the people from the States were assholes, to stick with their language. Well, two of the three, at least. A married couple who had moved into her old bedroom, and honestly, they could be summarized as mainly three things: religious, respectless and rude. Right on the first evening, they hadn't hesitated to make not so subtle but very much mocking comments about Robin 'attending a boarding school for special children', as her parents seemed to have explained the situation to them. Then they had gone on to comment on her 'disorderly choice of clothing', which they deemed entirely unsuitable for a young lady of any respectable family. Them finding out that Robin, in fact, didn't pray before meals (nor at any other time really), and also had absolutely no intention to, had resulted in a lengthy speech about the importance of God's guidance for a young lady (that term again…), especially when she was constantly tempted by vicious males around her. (They had also found it outrageous that the school she attended wasn't just for girls!) At that point, Robin had regretted ever coming back to this place, ever allowing herself to hope that it might not be completely awful. That had been three hours after her arrival.

Three days later, she was going insane for real. The only good thing was that every one of them was gone throughout most of the day, which allowed her to take a break from the constant orders and remarks given to her by four people by now, none of which actually had the right to do so. Honestly, she didn't know why she didn't just leave. Pack up the boxes in the basement and find some other place to live, where she wouldn't be either entirely ignored to the point of feeling invisible or pestered with disdainful comments. And now, four days into this mess, she made the decision that she would have to adapt her plans if she wanted to survive this summer.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow. I'm going to travel the country with a friend until the end of summer." She declared out of the blue, during dinner on Friday evening, after being silent for over three hours. Originally she had planned to take day trips with Snape, and come back here in the evenings to spend the days in between excursions at her parents' house. But now she just wanted to have a decent enough reason to leave and stay gone for as long as possible. Perhaps forever.

"That's amazing, sweetie! I'm glad to hear you have plans." Her mom was the first to reply, smiling in what looked like sincere relief upon the prospect of having her daughter out of the picture at last.

The conflict growing between the American couple and Robin hadn't passed by her parents unnoticed, indeed they were as well aware of it as everyone else, but they had always made an effort not to get involved, always avoiding to possibly upset their guests, even when they had clearly crossed a line. To Robin, they had thereby picked their side, and it had never been hers.

"Traveling the country… Spending your parents' hard earned money, eh?" The scarecrow on the other side of the table scoffed in a too high pitched voice, and Robin had to make a conscious effort to keep her facade of perfect neutrality plastered onto her face. "If I was your mother, I would see to it that you find yourself a job and get working as soon as possible!"

"We offered to pay for her expenses, should she wish to spend the summer elsewhere, because we had to clear out her room for you." Robin's dad explained almost apologetically. "But it might as well be a belated gift for… two birthdays and two Christmases, I believe."

"Never coming home and then expecting to be paid for nonetheless…" The scarecrow made a face at Robin as she let out a scoff. "Children, they're all the same no matter where you are in the world. I know why I never wanted any."

Robin's jaw clenched for but a second, the only tell of her true emotions, but then she calmly went back to cutting her chicken into neat pieces of exactly the same size as she had previously cut her vegetables and potatoes as well. "I won't need any of your money, thank you for the offer nonetheless. I believe it would be best for everyone if I was… financially independent as soon as possible. I'm an adult, so I might as well pay for myself."

"Oh, you're one of those types." Scarecrow's husband mused in an unsuccessful attempt at subtle distaste. "Traveling around like a gypsy, always deep in someone's pocket for a dollar… The youth these days just doesn't know what work is anymore."

"Actually, I work hard and earn my money like everyone else does." Robin replied coldly, not even honouring the man with a glance. It was a very twisted version of the truth she was presenting here, but it would have to do. "Just because I attend a school quite far away from the larger cities doesn't mean there is no opportunity to make a living on the side."

"Yes, and we all know how pretty young girls can make a living the easiest way, don't we?" Scarecrow scoffed, and the entire table fell silent for a moment. Nobody dared to speak, and all eyes eventually sought out Robin, who in return was desperately glad for her years of practice in looking entirely indifferent. On the inside however, her mind was raging. How dared this woman to make such accusations, or even hint at something like that?! A small part of Robin wondered what would happen if she simply cursed everyone in the room, and took their memories of it afterwards. But instead, she settled for merely being silent and clinging onto the thought that she would be gone tomorrow.

"Do you by any chance work in a kitchen?" The third American, the only decent human being in the room and the only person Robin wasn't currently mad at, asked and thereby broke the uncomfortable silence. "Because I couldn't help noticing how adept you are at cooking. The dinner you made last night was amazing, and I've never seen someone so skilled with a knife."

"Thank you." Robin offered him a small smile, and inwardly thanked him for saving her from the ridiculous situation like that. "I really do sort of work in a kitchen, actually. For the past few years I have been trained quite a bit in addition to the normal school curriculum, to properly select and prepare ingredients for example, but by now, I actually get to make entire recipes by myself." Again, not a lie. Cooking and potion making were quite similar in a lot of ways, and she would shamelessly take advantage of that now.

"I didn't know you were training to become a chef." Robin's dad frowned at her, then shrugged and continued eating at last. "But I'm glad to hear that you are looking into a serious and decently paying career path. Not that… odd stuff they teach you at school."

"So, who's the friend you're going to be traveling with?" Her mom asked, changing the topic and the tension that had been hanging in the hair was resolved as the others continued with their meals as well.

"You wouldn't know him; someone I know from school." Was all Robin replied, but perhaps she should've thought better of it.

"A boy?! Excuse me, but I just have to intervene here again, entirely for your own good…" The scarecrow was quick to respond, and Robin cringed at every single part of the vile woman's sentence. "Just imagine how that might look to some people! A girl and a boy, traveling the country together all by themselves… Do you truly want to have such a poor reputation?! Just think about the disgrace it would be for your parents! Or for your future husband! People might assume you were dishonored!"

If that woman knew that Robin was going to travel with Snape, a man who was eleven years older than her and who used to be her professor until a week ago, she surely would combust in outrage, or faint in shock. Robin had to suppress a snort at the thought, and the idea of telling her suddenly became very tempting. But she wouldn't, as that would surely only end to her own disadvantage. After all, it would put reality into even more of a false light… they were still going to part ways in the evenings to meet up again on another day. Either way, Robin had quite enough of the woman sitting across from her at this point.

"Bold of you to assume that I have any honour left for him to take in the first place." She said nonchalantly, in perfect indifference, and while four jaws dropped just like intended, the nice American scientist merely let out a snort. At least one person understood the joke inherent in this bloody situation… Still, this probably hadn't been the smartest thing to say if she ever wanted them to stop bothering her, but as it seemed, her reputation among them had been ruined long before she had arrived here in the first place. And it was the truth after all; at almost eighteen, it wasn't unlikely that she would have a lot more experience than she actually did. It wasn't her fault that a hug was the only form of physical intimacy she'd ever lived to share with anyone… even Cas had more experience than that, and she was only fourteen! Not that this bothered Robin in any way… it was just a fact, and she might as well use it to her advantage at this point.

Dinner continued quietly from then on, and while the silence seemed to be uncomfortable for everyone else, Robin actually found herself feeling more at ease than she had all evening. When willingly allowing yourself to sink quite so low in someone's eyes, even if based on false information and half truths, the result for your own self was quite liberating. No reputation to uphold, no need to impress, nothing to justify. Honestly, she just should've done this from the start. But then again, she had still wanted her parents to pay for her travels at that point. Still had hoped that the boxes in the basement would be unpacked again eventually, once the esteemed guests were gone. Now however, the idea of cutting herself off from her parents entirely had a shocking appeal to it, and she couldn't quite bring herself to step back from it again. Didn't even want to. No, she still had some Christmas money left that she had saved over the years, and from there on she could find some sort of work to make ends meet. Tomorrow morning, she would take the boxes in the basement with her and leave for good.

… … …

If there had been any doubt left in her mind by Friday night if she actually should go through with it, it was blown away Saturday morning when the only thing saying goodbye to her was a note on the kitchen counter that told her to put the rubbish out before she left. Thus she spent the early hours of the day gathering everything that was hers and storing it away in her backpack, while also taking some minor things that surely wouldn't be missed around here. An old record player and a few of her favorite records (both which weren't used anymore), that chipped mug she had been using when she was here for as long as she could remember, but also a photo album that only had the first five pages filled with pictures of her as a baby and toddler. If this was all that would be left of her childhood other than her own memories, she wanted to be the one to have it. She added in a picture of her parents that had been in one of their own albums, then hid the entire thing very deep down in her bag, in a box of things she wanted to keep but still forget about.

When finally she shouldered her bag to leave, she didn't even feel sad. Only bitter and, in a way, deeply hurt that it had come this far. Perhaps it had been her fault, partially at least. Perhaps it had been inevitable. But if the last five days had proven anything, it was that they would be better off going separate ways from here on. Maybe one day, if by that time they still remembered that they'd had a daughter once, she would come back to visit them.

… … …

Half an hour later Robin sat high up on the cliff on the Scottish east coast where their first adventure had started last year, legs dangling over the edge against the stone wall that dropped down way too far, as she waited for Snape to show up. They would have to meet somewhere after all, and this place had seemed like a good idea. Both of them had been here before, it was practically deserted, and thus it was easy to find each other.

The wind whipping around her cleared some of the bitterness the morning had left, dried some silent tears, and it was a reminder of the bigger picture, a reassurance that her problems weren't the end of the world. As dark as things might seem, the planet was still spinning and the only way to move was forward. She took a deep breath, and when the sun broke through the clouds at last, she put on her sunglasses and let it warm her face for once.

"You're early… A bit excited, are we?" Snape remarked the very moment Robin heard him arriving somewhere behind her, and even just the sound of his voice made her smile in an instant.

"So are you, in case you haven't noticed." She replied, leaning back on her hands to look up at him upside down when he came to stand behind her. Surprisingly enough, he was clad in ordinary black bottoms and a simple long sleeved shirt of the same colour. "I think I've never seen you in anything other than those robes you always wear at school…"

"Yes, well, our last… expedition has proven my usual choice of clothing to be rather unsuitable for the occasion." He mused, and finally sat down next to Robin so closely that their shoulders almost touched. "That, and muggles tend to be irritated when one wears robes around them. Since we haven't decided where today will take us, I thought it best to be prepared."

"Clever. As always." Robin smirked, and he rolled his eyes at her using his own expression on him, which she however didn't mind one bit. "How was your week?"

"Dreadful. Yours?"

"Even worse."

"Good."

"Hey!" Robin protested with a laugh, then with a grin she just couldn't fight. "What's good about me being worse than dreadful for a week?"

"It means that no matter if we succeed in our goals today or not, it will still be a better day for you than the last few were."

"Of course it will be better! An infinite number of times better even! Spending time with you is better than anything, you dunderhead."

"Call me that one more time and I will shove you off the cliff."

"Shove me off the cliff and I'll pull you down with me."

"I expect nothing less. That is what I'm here for, after all." He stated with an expression that was too serious looking to actually be serious at all. The not-smirk was an even better tell of that.

"You're here to jump off a cliff?" Robin quirked an eyebrow at him with a teasing smirk.

"I'm here to make sure you aren't alone when you do."

"So if I jump, you will too?"

"I would rather keep either of us from doing something ridiculously stupid as that, but generally, yes." He said, and the fact that he actually seemed to mean every word of that sent a wave of electric sparkles all through Robin's body and mind. She couldn't even put into words how much she adored him for that, and how infinitely glad she was to have him with her. If this was what being his friend was like, she couldn't even imagine how it would be to be more than that. Then again, she shouldn't imagine it in the first place. They were friends. Best friends, but only friends. That had to be enough.

"Good to know." She finally replied, allowing herself to smile at least, so very brightly that he almost had to smile in return. "So… what theory are we looking into today?"

"Get out that handbook of yours and we shall see."

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[solange-lol]

not so typical love song - ch. 2/13

Chapter Title: Never Fall In Love

Words: 4,751

Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3

[ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight (coming soon)]

read on ao3

---

Nico woke the next morning to his dog, Mrs. O’Leary, licking his face. (How she had gotten into his room, Nico didn’t know, but he blamed Hazel.) The Mastiff was nearly crushing him, being just about the same size as he was. He gave her a quick kiss and a pat on the head before pushing her off of him, rolling over with a groan. Curse the education system for making them get up at ungodly hours.

He heard a notification go off on his phone, and immediately the events of the previous night flooded back into his brain. Nico reached for his phone, hoping for a reply from Blue from the night before. Maybe if he was an early sleeper than he was an early riser. Unfortunately for him, there was no such luck. The notification was just a text from Piper reminding him to print his essay for English. The inbox for his email remained empty, besides the previous emails from the night before. 

He clicked on one from Blue, rereading it. Then reading the following email from himself. Nico couldn’t help but smile; the excited tone was evident in his writing. Generally, he wasn’t the biggest fan of change, but this was one he could vouch for. These conversations were something he needed.

Now he was just hoping that Blue would respond again. 

The pondering came to an end when Nico realized that if he didn’t start getting ready for school soon, he was going to be late. Quickly jumping out of bed, he threw on the first things he saw in his dresser (perks of an all black wardrobe), which turned out to be an old black and white checkered t-shirt along with black jeans and converse. He then shoved his laptop in his bag, grabbed his phone, and raced down the stairs.

“Nico, hey!” Hazel called from the kitchen. “I made pancakes!”

Hazel’s cooking was amazing, not that Nico would ever admit it. That wasn’t to say that nobody else could cook in their family. Nico’s father had some recipes that he kept from Maria, Nico’s mom, for authentic Italian food. He then passed those down to Nico whose skills were admittedly still limited, but he was improving. Persephone, Nico’s stepmother, was more of a baker. 

But Hazel? She could do it all. She knew how to make the soul food her own mother used to cook before she died. Along with that, she was obsessed with Food Network and would try out cuisine from any culture. (She once made a lasagna better than Nico’s own family recipe. This opinion was never voiced out loud, but it was clear when everyone had thirds.) 

Unfortunately, if Nico didn’t get in the car in the next two minutes, there was no way his routine would play out as usual.

He leaned over the counter, grabbing a forkful bigger than he probably could fit in his mouth. He shoved it in anyway, though, nodding at the taste and shooting Hazel a thumbs up. Since he couldn’t talk through this giant mouthful of pancake, he settled for miming a steering wheel with his hands and then pointing in the direction of the school as if to ask do you need a ride?

Luckily, Hazel got his little charade and shook her head no. “I’m getting a ride from Frank.”

Nico just raised an eyebrow at her. After a couple of swallows, he managed to say: “I better meet this Frank before you two get serious.”

“He’s in your grade, you probably already know him. Plus, we’ve talked, like, twice. We’re just friends.”

“For the time being,” Nico pointed out. 

That earned him a rare eye roll from his sister. “I swear, the moment you mention a girl, you are never going to hear the end of it from me.” 

He gave her a harmless glare, but inside, Nico could feel his stomach twist. Right. Almost forgot the entire world thought he was straight after spending the night talking (flirting?) to a random person about how gay he was. 

He couldn’t waste anymore time worrying about that, though. Waving to Hazel and calling a goodbye to his dad and stepmom, Nico stepped outside and towards his car.

Before he could step inside it, something caught his eye. Or rather, someone. 

Apparently his neighbors had called someone to come mow their lawn, and the guy who was blowing off all the grass onto the road was hot. He had light hair that was peeking out from under his hat, and dark eyes from was Nico could see. The best part, though, was this tight shorts this guy was wearing. He’s pretty sure he’s seen this guy working before, but maybe it was all the conversation last night that just put everything into a new light.

Nico fiddled with the keys in his hand. He was going to be late if he put this off any longer, but who knows? This could be the start of something.

“Hey!” he called out to him. Either the guy didn’t hear him or he just didn’t care, though, because he completely ignored Nico.

“Hey!” Nico tried again, and this time the guy turned around, a puzzled look already crossing his face. 

Not knowing what to say next, Nico panicked. “I like your boots!”

The guy squinted in confusion, holding his hand up to his ear and turning off his leaf blower. It was clear he didn’t hear Nico.

“I said I- I like your boots!” 

If he wasn’t confused before, the guy was definitely confused now. He just nodded before getting back to work,

Nico sighed, opening his door. What was he thinking anyway? He slumped into the seat, resting his head on the steering wheel, which accidentally caused the horn to beep, and him to jump. Great, now the guy must think he was honking at him. 

Nico sighed again. It was going to be a very long day.

---

Picking up his friends was a routine that was established the moment Nico got his license. He no doubt had the nicest car out of his friends and actually kept it clean. Plus, it was just easiest for them all.

Jason was first, followed by Reyna. They lived across the street from each other; they grew up together and had been friends all their lives. While they drove to their next stop (and Nico’s personal favorite), Jason would usually try to analyze his dream and how it was going to affect his day, usually losing both Reyna and Nico halfway through his retelling. 

They then stopped for a morning coffee at their local coffee shop. Nico preferred his hot with a shit ton of sugar, Reyna liked tea, and both Jason and Piper preferred iced lattes.

 “Oh, can you get Piper’s with almond milk?” Jason said, tapping Nico on the shoulder from his spot in the back seat.

“How do you know so much about Piper’s coffee order?” 

“It’s not hard to remember that someone prefers almond milk to regular.” 

Nico just rolled his eyes before adding Piper’s request. Jason’s crush on Piper was so obvious, but he still refused to act on it. Something about not knowing her for long enough, since she had only moved to their town that summer. 

From there, they went to pick up Piper, who lived on the farther side of town, and then headed for school.

It was a miracle they were still on time considering Nico’s morning tangent. He was so distracted by trying to make the bell that he sort of forgot about Blue.

That was, until third period English when he went to search up a quick fact and noticed a new email notification. There was only one person who knew that email address.

He tried to ignore it, tried to pay attention to the lesson, but his phone felt like it was burning through his pants pocket. 

Blue had responded again.

He quickly snapped back to reality and raised his hand.

“Nico?” the teacher asked, and he quickly realized that she had just asked a question judging by the other hands lowering. “What do you think?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?” 

The teacher sighed, nodding her head in the direction of the door, and Nico rushed out. It felt like he was racing down the hall towards the bathroom, the weight of his phone still heavy in his pocket. 

It felt like time was slowing down as he locked himself in the last stall of this thankfully-empty bathroom, staring at the loading screen of the app. Finally, the email popped up. 

Nico took a deep breath and tapped it.

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Oct 3 at 10:20 AM

Subject: Re: Punchability

I’m so glad I qualify for an exception of punchability. But I’m confused, because I heard there was actually a second punctuality exception for cute guys who don’t know slang (I believe the phrase you are looking for is ‘catch these mittens’) and poor judgement. Re: Nutella, despite being warned. 

And how did you know about my interpretive dance skills? Though I don’t really think of it as an extracurricular activity. It’s more of a calling. 

I know exactly what you mean about it being easier to be open with someone who doesn’t know you. We exchanged, what? Like 5 emails? Already, you know things about me that I’ve never told anyone else. I guess it makes you think about what it really means to know someone

I’m okay with being each other’s Ultimate Therapists, even if we both suck at it.

-Blue

He let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding before laughing quietly to himself. Of course Blue would respond, and he did it in typical Blue-humor fashion. It was clear last night that emailing Nico was as therapeutic as it was for Nico emailing him. 

Thousands of heat-filled butterflies entered his stomach as he read it over. Was Blue flirting with him? He hardly remembered the conversations last night, but it was clear now that this had gone a little farther than plain old friendly teasing.

He quickly typed a response, already anticipating Blue’s next reply.

From: bettertoburn@gmail.com

To: blue0919@gmail.com

Date: Oct 3 at 10:50 AM

Subject: Catch These Mittens

What about me makes you think I have poor judgement? 5 jars of Nutella sounds like a fantastic idea, if you ask me. If anything, I’m not the one with poor judgement; that’s all on YOU, Blue. You’re the one who ate the Nutella, if I remember correctly. 

I relate to everything you’re saying, though. I already feel like I can tell you things I haven’t told any of my close friends. I do think a big part of it is the anonymity. It’s not just that, though. It’s weird but I feel like you get me in some way. Which is probably why I responded to your post in the first place. Or maybe it’s just something that comes from nobody knowing you’re gay.

It’s like, I’m not lonely. I have great friends, a better-than-average family. But I still feel lonely more often than not. At least I’ve felt a little less lonely in the past day, thanks to you.

-Angel

It was weird, he’s more honest with Blue than he is with himself. Like some sort of alternate-persona situation. All of the jokes and the extra personality he kept inside himself out of fear was just let loose when he talked to Blue.

Nico tapped send without thinking and almost immediately regretted it. What if Blue was in his English class and saw him rush out? If he had email notifications on, it would be obvious that Nico was on the other side. 

Nonetheless, Nico felt his heartbeat speed up with slight excitement and nerves. If Blue found out it was him sending him emails, there was a chance that his undecided maybe-love story could speed up a bit, or at least cure his curiosity about who this other gay kid was. On the other hand, it could also scare Blue away, and Nico really needed him right now. 

Nico switched off his phone and pocketed it. He was out too long already, and he needed to get back to class. He could worry about Blue there.

---

Lunch came, and Nico found himself observing the room more carefully. All the juniors had the same lunch period, which meant any guy in that room could be Blue. He was praying it wasn’t like one of those dramatic teen show situations where the homophobic asshole turned out to be the gay one. 

Turning to his own lunch table, he realized that any of his own friends could be Blue. They were all theatre kids, which meant it was more than likely at least half of them were queer anyway.

Percy Jackson was sitting directly from his left. He was their stage manager as he loved to lead the team and also couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. The looks made up for it though, with the gorgeous sea green eyes and unkempt black hair. He was a lot taller than Nico (though most people were) and while previously assumed straight, he also doubled as a soccer player along with some of the other guys at their table, including Jason. The way he treated, teased, and tackled Jason, there was no way he wasn’t at least bisexual.

On his other side was Jason, and while Nico admitted he was attractive, his heart eyes for Piper were clear.

Next to Jason were Travis and Connor Stoll, some of the other soccer players. Travis was also part of backstage, but Nico ruled him out as he was dating Katie Gardner. And while Connor was in the show and hypothesized as gay due to some apparent flirting between him and Mitchell that Piper overheard, Nico doubted it was him.

Across from him was Will Solace, who he was only recently introduced to. He wasn’t a part of their theatre program, but he was friends with Lou Ellen and Cecil, both of which were in theatre and who had invited him to the table. Nico hadn’t had many conversations with him, but he had an adorable head of golden curls and blue eyes that reminded Nico of an eclipse. He had thousands of freckles splattered across tan skin. So, a contestant along with the other hundred of guys in his grade.

“Nico?” Will asked, waving in front of his face. Nico snapped out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah?”

Will gave him a huge grin, clearly about to ask for something. “Can I have a fry?” he asked, pointing to Nico’s tray.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He was still halfway in daydream mode, and the words didn’t really register in his brain. 

Jason looked curiously. “Is this the day Nico di Angelo finally finds his soul and is kind to another person?” he teased, still managing to find his fatherly humor within him even when surprised. “Guess not,” he continued when Nico flipped him off, and everyone laughed. 

They went back to their conversation after that. (Jason was proposing that they all shaved their legs for the next soccer game which would supposedly make them run faster, an idea that was immediately turned down by all the other members.) There’s laughing and teasing; it’s the good-natured humor of his lunch table that begged for him to come out right at that moment. He knew his friends would accept him; he knew he was in a safe environment. And yet, did he know that? 

He thought back to what Blue said, about wanting to come out but also being insanely relieved that nobody knew yet. He’s safer when nobody knows. So, he didn’t say a word.

The memory of Blue reminded him that he sent an email earlier in the day, and there’s a chance that Blue may have sent one back during lunch.

Nico pulled out his phone, quickly trying to refresh his email app. Unfortunately, with the amount of kids on their phones in that room, the internet was essentially nonexistent. The screen just kept on loading.

“Why is there no service in this school?” he mumbled to no one in particular as he jumped up from the table. Curious and confused looks from the other members at the table were exchanged, but nobody rushed to follow. 

Nico didn’t bother rushing at this point without the promise of an email waiting for him. However, risking pulling out his phone in the hallway turned out to be a mistake, as he bumped right into the vice principal’s wheelchair.

“Nico,” Mr. Brunner addressed him. He was actually pretty nice most of the time, always going out of his way to see what was up with his students. It was almost like he doubled as a guidance counselor. (Mr. Brunner was better at emotional support than their actual guidance counselor, that was for sure.) He was still sort of stuck in the past, though, and while he never gave out detentions for phone use, he did confiscate them.

“Hey, Mr. Brunner. How are you?” Nico winced slightly at his feeble attempts to get out of punishment. 

Mr. Brunner didn’t even answer his question. Instead, he just held out his hand. “You know the rules, Mr. di Angelo.” 

Nico sighed. If the administrator weren’t so nice and if he was out, he would call this homophobia. Instead, he just bit the bullet and placed his phone in Mr. Brunner’s awaiting palm. “When do I get it back?”

“End of the day, after play rehearsal.” That was another thing, he had somehow memorized everyone’s extracurriculars. “You can come retrieve it in my office.”

Nico nodded. “Got it.” Going the day without knowing if Blue hadn’t responded wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t really have a choice. 

---

As it turns out, Nico had some sort of heavy reliance on Blue in the past day. Even if they hadn’t known each other for long, and their conversations were short, they still meant a lot. They were a safe space, and the knowledge that he was now derived of that safe space, even for a few hours, made him uncomfortable.

Even in the theater, which was usually Nico’s comfort zone. They spent countless hours a week here. Just about everybody in the cast were friends, all having shared laughs or tears depending on how the rehearsal was going and what kind of mood their director, Mr. D, was in. Even Octavian, who was a slimy, stuck up kid whose body boiled with drama even outside of the auditorium, seemed human during a long rehearsal.

Without his phone, he also had no way to check the time, which meant he was relying on (i.e., bothering the crap out of) all of his friends.

The show itself was going as well as a public high school musical with limited theatre program funding could go. 

“That was—” Mr. D started, rubbing his forehead from his spot in the audience. He tapped his pen on his clipboard, still not finishing his sentence. “Peter, help me out here?” 

“That was a start?” Percy (Mr. D had a habit of getting his name wrong, even after three years in the program. Probably out of disrespect; they had a weird unspoken feud) supplied. The phrasing was nice, but the message was clear. The show was a complete trainwreck, and they only had until after the holidays to put it together. It was already October.

Mr. D pointed his pen at him. “Yes, that was a start.” He got up from his chair and advanced towards the stage, which meant he was about to change the entire set up. 

“Piper,” he hissed between as Mr. D gave new directions to Jason. “What time is it?”

Piper just glared at him from her spot on the half-finished staircase. “Ten minutes since you last asked me!” 

“And di Angelo! I need your jazz hands to be more dramatic! You just look like you’re trembling! This is a cabaret, not a breakdown in the bathroom!” He heard a snicker behind him, and turned to wear Percy and Cecil were mocking his shaky jazz hands offstage. If it weren’t for Mr. D standing near, he would have cursed them out.

Instead, Nico just sighed. Usually this was one of his favorite parts of the day, but they were barely halfway through rehearsal, and he already wanted out. 

By the time the rehearsal was over, Nico had already packed up all his things and was bolting out of the auditorium. 

He skidded to a stop from his near-sprint right outside of Mr. Brunner’s office, taking a moment to collect his breath and play it off as he strolled into the room. (The last thing he needed to do was look attached to his phone, otherwise Mr. Brunner might decide to keep it a little longer.)

“Nico! How was the unplugged afternoon?” Mr. Brunner smiled from his desk. 

“Great,” Nico said, forcing a smile and giving a thumbs up. Whatever he had to do to make this conversation go faster. 

Mr. Brunner reached into a drawer in his desk to grab Nico’s phone before wheeling around to where he was standing. “You should try it more often, maybe you’ll finally relax a bit.” Nico just laughed and nodded, not really sure how to respond to that. So, Mr. Brunner continued. “I know I’m hard on you, but I’m just looking out for you.” He regarded Nico now with slight concern in his eyes. “You’ve seemed kinda stressed recently, anything you want to talk about?”

Nico just forced another smile. “Nope! I’m good. Just, uh, a lot of homework to do, which means I should probably head home.”

Mr. Brunner nodded, handing Nico’s phone back to him. “Go, do your thing. Just remember, my door is always open.”

The words didn’t register, though, because Nico could see now that he got a notification from Blue. “Right, thanks!” he called, already rushing out of the room and outside.

Nico waited until he was in his car to open up the email. 

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Oct 3 at 2:46 PM

Subject: Re: Catch These Mittens

I’ve felt less lonely in the past day too. It’s nice to finally have somebody who just gets it. It’s funny, my mom even commented that I’ve been in a good mood lately. I told her it was because Taylor Swift had a new song, but I’m not sure she believed me. I think she knows I’m hiding something.

Anyway, I have a question for you: how did you know you were gay? And I know you said you haven’t come out to anyone yet, but do you think anyone suspects?

-Blue

A car honked behind him, snapping him out of his daydream as he quickly backed out of the parking lot. Nico nearly sped home from there, eager to respond. He barely acknowledged his stepmom or Hazel before grabbing a granola bar and racing up the steps to his room, Mrs. O’Leary right by his heels. 

Nico flopped back on his bed, pulling out his laptop from his backpack and typing out a response.

 From: bettertoburn@gmail.com

To: blue0919@gmail.com

Date: Oct 3 at 5:14 PM

Subject: Re: Catch These Mittens

I keep thinking about this whole coming out thing. I have a pretty open group of friends and a good family, I don’t think they would really be that torn apart over it. Still, though, I’m scared.

You know Mitchell, right? He’s been out for years now and as far as I know nobody has given him too much crap for it. Probably because everybody basically knew (which I feel is a really crappy thing to say, but it’s not like he was that subtle.)

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I guess I just feel like with me it’s hard to tell. I think my dad suspects something because I never talk about girls, but my friends like to joke that I don’t like talking about anyone, even if it’s strictly platonic. But besides that, nobody really talks about it. I mean, ‘who do you think is gay’ isn’t really a hot topic at my lunch table. Or a topic at all. (Though part of me wishes it was, or just wishes I was out, because I’ve had so many good joke opportunities.)

Anyway, as for how I knew I was gay, it was a bunch of little things. My older sister tried to get me into Harry Potter with her (instead I just got obsessed with a card game called Mythomagic.) But everytime she would turn on one of the movies, I would always watch with her. Afterwards I kept having this recurring dream of Daniel Radcliff. I also got really into Panic! at the Disco, and it took me a while to realize it wasn’t really about the music. (Brendan Urie is a god, don’t deny it.) And, of course, the pitiful crushes on half of my friend group.

I’ve never had a girlfriend, and I’m honestly not even sure if a girl has ever even liked me. I just never bothered paying attention to that sort of thing the moment I realized I didn’t have to. 

What about you, how did you know?

-Angel

P.S: because I know you’re wondering, I’m a Gryffindor. (Or at least I am according to my sister.) Hope that doesn’t affect this friendship, because I really like emailing you. 

He hit send, then immediately fell backwards with a groan. Since when did he become so mushy? If anyone ever saw these emails, he would probably implode. Even the idea of someone reading them made his stomach twist, although that’s probably more about the being-gay-and-in-the-closet thing more than it was about the being-mushy thing. 

He stayed in that spot for a few moments, hoping that he’d hear the notification sound of a reply from his laptop, but ten minutes passed with no such luck. So, he sat up, closed the tab, and started to work on his calculus homework instead while he waited. After a while he forgot about Blue. 

It’s only when he stepped out of the shower later that night and his phone lit up with a missed notification that he realize he got a response.

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Oct 3 at 6:29 PM

Subject: Re: Catch These Mittens

I know what you mean about the nobody-really-thinking you're gay thing. I mean, I don’t think it’s usually at the top of someone’s mind unless they like you, but you seem to not have much experience with that. Which isn’t a bad thing. Plus, I like you.

And actually, I had my own share of a Brendan Urie crush (who didn’t.) That was actually one of the first things I noticed about your email which, I could be completely wrong here, I believe that’s a P!ATD reference. I hope you don’t expect me to know any other of those alternative-edgy type bands. I’m more of a musical theatre person, which means I have about the same music taste as my Aunt Artemis.

Another one was Game of Thrones. I’m not a huge follower of the show, but every time I watched clips or walked in while my mom was watching it, I was always crushing hard on John Snow.

I’ve never officially had a girlfriend. I had a girl ask me to a seventh grade dance before, but I just really wanted to Cupid Shuffle on my own so I turned her down. She’s actually still one of my close friends to this day, funnily enough, and still showed up at the dance and kicked my butt at Cotton Eyed Joe. So, that turned out to be a better experience.

-Blue

P.S: I think you should actually take the quiz, because you seem more like a Hufflepuff to me. Or maybe I’m just self-projecting my own house onto you (I’m as Hufflepuff as you can get.) But no, even though you claim to be in the fraternity of Hogwarts Houses, I still like emailing you too. 

Nico smiled, and unfamiliar heat pooling in his stomach as he reread that last line over and over again.

[aq2003]

FULL ENDGAME REVIEW

6.5/10 was ok but could’ve been a lot better in my opinion and by a lot better i mean

tony should’ve lived

-the russos are war criminals for what they did to tony alone. he had a family to go back to, JUST like clint. but i guess self sacrifice is cool, right?

-ever since iron man 3, tony’s story has essentially a dark twist to the “great power great responsibility” trope: the hero internalizes the motivating phrase (“don’t waste your life”), and let it interfere with their ability to take care of themself/open up to others. it started strong in iron man 3, got undermined in aou, got slightly more prevalent in the context of civil war, FINALLY got foreshadowed in infinity war. his arc was ultimately about letting other people HELP him with the responsibility he feels like he needs to carry 

-until endgame threw it under the bus again. in an objectively cool way, yeah, but it still got thrown under the bus and i’m mad

-so now tony stark’s story is ultimately a tragedy. and i fucking hate it, man. he had happiness (but not really, because peter’s not there) for 5 years and that got snatched away from him too! he underwent so much trauma since his goddamn origin story and he had a few moments of peace, sure, but he died before he could fully reunite with his loved ones. and it SUCKS. 

-god this is . this is like. if obi-wan kenobi went through All That but got really close to luke before he died and also never got any closure with anakin as a force ghost

-the russos have said, like outright, that thanos was a symbol of what tony’s been fearing of since 2012, the being that symbolized the root of his anxiety and ptsd. so what does tony do to defeat it? uhhh idk he dies i guess. but it’s okay! he can finally rest now!

-really great message there for the kids, right? 

-also there was a whole sequence about him talking to his dad about not abandoning his kid and being there for her. but now he CAN’T be there for morgan because tony stark is fucking gone and dead and i can’t fucking handle this he deserves so much better

-also also not to be a DudeBroGeek™ but he totally got nerfed during his fight scenes

thor shouldn’t have been played off as a joke

-my whole theater laughed at him being . fat. and i was SUPER SUPER SUPER uncomfy the entire time

-he has a PANIC ATTACK and people LAUGHED i mean way to treat more of your mentally ill characters like shit, russos! sure! just devaluate thor’s suffering by saying “oh he’s fat so it’s funny now! hehe!” FUCK you

-i mean, yikes, i can’t believe we went from iron man 3 (where mental illness is one of the major problems the protagonist clearly struggles with, where tony’s panic attacks are disturbingly real and in no way funny) to THIS SHIT

-don’t even get me STARTED on his arc. like from thor 1 to dark world it’s about putting aside his arrogance for the good of his people. for ragnarok it’s finally stepping up and finding his powers while taking up the responsibility as king. in infinity war i was able to turn a blind eye to it, but it’s so prevalent in endgame how little the russos care about thor’s journey in his movies

-in the end he passes off the responsibility he took up in ragnarok to val and just straight up fucked off to space. like what the hell, man?

-ALSO . loki said the sun would shine on them again but the sun DIDN’T fucking shine on them and i feel robbed. i feel like the russos broke into my home and stole something important.

-the brodinsons deserve better.

-how can taika even be there, like physically. i mean. the thor from his movie got entirely retconned

-also not to be a DudeBroGeek™ again but. but like tony he was so 100% nerfed especially during the fight against thanos HOW did thanos even touch stormbreaker aka the weapon made to kill him like what

-i hate to put this all on james gunn but he’s GOTTA fix the crimes committed in endgame against the guardians and thor

steve’s entire character arc shouldn’t have been undermined

-one of his defining character traits is that he won’t stand by and let bad things happen when he can prevent it

-if you could describe steve rogers THAT’S what you would say about him. 

-it’s like tony being smart. or thor being powerful. steve is just Like That

-so why did he go back in time when two full movies were dedicated to him adapting to the future

-idk it doesn’t really make sense to me

-i don’t actually have much to say about steve, i’m not as attached to his character as tony and thor but it still rubs me the wrong way. maybe it makes more sense to steve stans but from what i’ve seen they’re PISSED even though out of the trio he got the most time to shine in battle lmao

also

-the time travel fuckery was. hmmm

-nat wasn’t there for the admittedly cheesy but still sort of nice girl-power shot

-wong did nothing until the final battle. like him surviving the snap did nothing to impact the story

-why was okoye even on the poster? she should’ve gotten a bigger role imo

-WHAT was dr strange even doing holding back the water

-my brother (who watched the movie with me) thought that the lgbt rep in the movie was “america’s ass” rather than the gay russo in steve’s support group, which just goes to show that the lgbt rep is SO small and the media should really stop hyping it up. not really salt towards the movie itself but it’s still salt

-fortnite

general saltiness out of the way, i’m going to list what i did like about the movie

-those posts going around about how knowing the spoilers take away from the movie are actually really, really wrong. i went in knowing more than half the plot including who lives and dies and i still found it entertaining, to say the least. the movie had a lot of effort put into making it and it really shows. if you ignore the parts you don’t like, you can actually kick back and have a relatively good time

-also the action was really, really good. throughout the entire movie. it’s an avengers film, so the action has to be good, but the fights were still super awesome and a lot were actually a cut above the rest of the mcu (especially the melee fights)

-the final battle was amazing. up until the end, i was on the edge of my seat, because even though it’s another “big final battle against an army of cgi monsters” i actually really really liked it. pretty much everything was perfect about it, and it was so fun to watch the theater go ham whenever a hero did something badass.

-the score. god, the score. alan silvestri did so good with calling back motifs from other solo mcu movies (something marvel should’ve been doing the entire time). ant man’s theme after scott pops out of the quantum realm, captain america’s march when tony hands the shield back to steve, the reprise of “even for you” from infinity war during clint and nat’s mission to vormir, captain marvel’s theme when she blows up thanos’ ship? beautiful

-the actors did a superb job with everything they were given (which probably wasn’t that much). since the russos were paranoid about spoilers apparently no one knew who they were talking to which sucked? because the marvel cast is pretty good at improv lines. but the actors still did a REALLY good job despite this (and really do carry the movie). i felt in my BONES tony’s frustration and anger at steve during the wheelchair scene, thor’s pain and self-loathing when he reunited with frigga, and peter’s DESPAIR when he watched tony die (i will never be okay ever)

-the callbacks to previous mcu movies were fanservice, yeah, but it was the GOOD kind of fanservice in that it was really really cool and served the fans. it’s a great way for the last movie in the infinity saga to end, by revisiting some of the iconic places it touched on before

-tony and nebula! they were only together for the first scene of the movie but the scene with paper football was really soft and nice 

-the civil war conflict was glossed over save for that one scene of tony going the fuck off on steve and i couldn’t be more grateful

-MORGAN STARK. god if i had the capacity to cry i’d be sobbing through writing this entire post. morgan and her soft dad made my heart MELT into pieces i love them 3000

-they still deserved better though

-scott. like in general. he was one of the highlights of the movie. his reunion with cassie was :’)

-carol’s haircut

-by the way a lot of people complained about her makeup in her first scene with the avengers shown in the trailers but it literally wasn’t a problem for any other carol scene in the movie (because that was the only scene in the entire runtime where she was wearing noticeable lipstick/eyeshadow or whatever)

-professor hulk. i actually didn’t expect to like him, but he made a lot of actually funny jokes and i liked his personality contrast with 2012 hulk. also he made scott tacos! he’s really wholesome and i’m willing to ignore the part where he dabbed

-the mark 85 is one of my favorite iron man suits now, even though it didn’t get a lot of screentime

-speaking of which it’s REALLY great how most of the time when tony saves the day it’s because of his smarts. it brings back the main theme of the character: tony stark, the human, plays ball with gods, aliens, and monsters just by being quick witted.

-the entire sequence of tony, steve, and scott getting the scepter and the tesseract was PURE gold. (it’s my favorite part of the movie honestly)

-tony: ok scott to create a distraction i need you to put my past self into cardiac arrest. \ scott: uhh. uhh ok dude?? \ tony: my self loathing is this strong

-rhodey and nebula! they were an awesome teamup and i really really liked their friendship/dynamic

-PEPPER IN RESCUE ARMOR. WE DIDN’T GET ENOUGH OF THAT BUT IT WAS SO GOOD I LOVED IT HER ARMOR DESIGN WAS REAL GREAT

-tony reuniting with peter. i teared up. legit. i teared up.

-thanos: *headbutts carol* \ carol: *doesn’t even move an inch*

-wanda was so badass in her 10 second scene. i just thought it was really cool

-peter using instant kill mode

-tony using the gauntlet was badass. i hated it but it was SO amazing at the same time i wanted to cry and cheer at the same time so i ended up in a semi catatonic state for the rest of the day

-the little wreath with the first arc reactor, morgan craving cheeseburgers, tony’s last message.....;-;

-i love you 3000.....:((((((

-SAM GETTING TO BE CAP. (this was one of the best parts of the all-new all-different avengers comic) even though i still don’t like steve’s ending, i love that sam is going to take up the mantle (and i’m super excited to see the falcon winter soldier show now)

-the movie ended with the soundtrack of tony building the mark 1 solidifying that none of this would’ve happened without iron man. good thing endgame credits said that maybe tony stan lives do matter

-a rat is responsible for saving half the universe and i find that REALLY funny. my favorite theory is that the rat was loki the whole time and that doubles the hilarity

tldr: the movie had an ending that didn’t really fit the characters, but the rest of it was fun to watch: the action scenes were great, the interactions between the characters were mostly good, and it’s overall pretty entertaining as a film by itself. as a closing to the infinity saga it feels unsatisfying, but as a movie it’s enjoyable

[childoftimeandmagic]

Hopes and Dreams...

So this piece got very far away from me. It’s well over my aimed 1,500 words for a drabble. This is my Day Four AU Piece for @everythingisklaroline KlarolineAUWeek. It’s a College AU. 

           Caroline glared at her phone and the text from her best coworker/friend Rebekah, not only had she bailed on her shift forcing Caroline to spend what should have been her easy middle shift, training. But! The girl who had taken Bekah’s shift was a fucking ditz who refused to listen to her. As Caroline glared at her phone, she was mildly happy that at least if she was getting shafted at least Bekah was on a date. Turning her hundred-watt smile on the customer who was walking in she slipped her phone into her back pocket.

           “Hi, Welcome to the Union Café, how can I caffeinate you today?” she said her voice faltering slightly, he was hot. Just then Vicki walked over from the storeroom. Caroline turned slightly and her eyes went from sunshine blue to ice in a second. “Hey Vic, could you please refill the pastries, I can handle the customer.”

           “Sure Care, if you need help, just shout,” she said while openly checking out their customer. Rolling her eyes Caroline turned to the man in question.

           “Apologies, what can I get you today?” she asked her smile slightly less bright.

           “You’re alright luv, I would like a large English breakfast with some milk. Oh! To go if you don’t mind,” he said fishing his wallet from his back pocket. An English accent seriously, Caroline just nodded as she started going through the process of brewing his tea and fishing the milk from the small cooler under the counter.

           “You’re far from home,” she said smiling trying to make some form of conversation.

           “Ahh you caught the accent did ya?” he smirked and leaned on the top of her counter looking at her.

           “You know my ears work pretty well,” she said pouring the milk in over the tea bag before turning to the register, “that’ll be two-fifty.”

           “Seriously that cheap for a to go cup of tea?” he asked his eyebrows raised as he handed over the crisp five-dollar bill.

           “Well we live to shock and amaze.” She said smiling at him as she handed him the corresponding two-fifty in change. “Have a great day.”

           “I hope so, my sister is having me meet her inept American boyfriend and I’m supposed to suss him out for mum and our brothers.” He shook his head and looked back at her. “Apologies you don’t want to hear about my plans, thanks for the cuppa.”

           “No problem-” she paused as the clues fell into place, “holy cow, your Nik! Bekah’s older brother!”

           “You know my sister?” he asked turning back to look at her eyebrow cocked again.

           “Well we work together here, have been since Freshman year. We’re both in the event planning and public relations major here. Plus, she’s mentioned you a few hundred times, and the rest of your family of course.” She felt the heat rising on her face as she realized she was officially rambling.            “So that would make you Caroline?” he asked holding out his hand which she quickly shook while nodding.

           “Yep that’s me, Caroline Forbes. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

           “Well luv, it’s been a pleasure but I have a boyfriend to scare and a sister to annoy. Have a great afternoon.”

           That was the end of a rather awkward and stilted conversation, Caroline nodded mutely while cursing her luck. The first guy that she was mildly interested in post-Tyler Fiasco and he was related to her best friend. Making him officially off limits. Groaning Caroline pulled out some wet wipes and got to work cleaning the counter and all obvious surfaces. At least, Kat, Elena, and Bonnie would get a kick out of this later when she went back to their  apartment.

           “Seriously brother, you want to invite Caroline out for drinks with Stefan and me?” Rebekah asked eyebrow raised as she looked at her older brother, he was being weird. When he just nodded as he continued to sketch in that ruddy notebook of his. She growled and snapped her fingers in his face. “I’m talking to you here, why do you want to invite her to drinks?”

           “Because Bek’s she seems pleasant and if I’m honest I’m intrigued by her,” he said simply looking up once at his sister who was still holding her mascara wand in her hand. “Shouldn’t you finish your makeup?”

           Taking her responding huff as a consent to make the appropriate call or text he went back to his sketching. While she’d gone from cool and collected to rambling when she recognized him he’d found it endearing. If the fact that half of her face was currently coming alive on the page of his notebook was any indication, Klaus Mikaelson was into the young blonde.

           “Caroline is coming and she’s going to be late, so you can try and learn to like Stefan,” Rebekah said walking back into her living room.

           “He’s alright enough, a bit stiff around the edges. Reeks of Catholic guilt though,” Klaus said closing his notebook quickly, and giving his sister a pointed look when she pouted that he’d denied her a peak at her latest work.

           “Mum’s still hung up on the fact that I’m not dating an Anglican?” she muttered pulling her thigh high books up her legs.

           “Mum’s never getting over that you’re dating an American I’m afraid.”  He nudged her with her elbow and stuck his tongue out at her.

           “Ahh and in the middle of Washington DC where was I going to find a fellow Brit who didn’t immediately recognize my name?” she said returning her big brothers sass.

           “Embrace the scandal love I have and my paintings are selling better than ever.”

           “That’s fair, but what if I simply want a guy who loves me for me not my money and possible title.”

           “Of course, that’s a reasonable request, we’d just like him to be British.” Klaus wrapped an arm around his sister and pulled her close. Rebekah sighed and giggled a little as she rested her head on his shoulder.

           “You want to fuck my best friend, don’t you?!” she asked suddenly sitting up straight. Klaus blanched at her phrasing and felt his face flush.

           “I wouldn’t go that far-” he tried to get out.

           “I mean of course you would want to fuck her I mean she’s the hottest girl on campus besides me. Oh god you cannot fuck my best friend,” Rebekah stood up from the couch pacing back and forth in her living room.

           “Why not?” Klaus asked slowly leaning forward watching his sister absolutely loose her shit.

           “Why nOT?” he winced as her voice rose to the pitch level most dogs hear at, “because you don’t’ fuck your sister’s friend! It’s in the bloody sibling code! If you guys fuck and you disappear like you’re won’t to do-oh god, it would crush her. Then she’d resent me for it. Niklaus, I swear to all that is holy and Kol’s beloved baseball bat, if you ruin this friendship for me I will beat you bloody!” Her rising shoulders and her hard glare convinced Klaus that maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to bring up her best friend.

           “Bek’s love, I don’t want to simply bed her, I want to know her hopes, dreams and plans for her future. I wasn’t lying when I said she intrigued me and most women don’t intrigue me.” He stood up and walked over to her slowly. “I promise that I won’t ruin this friendship of yours.”

           Bekah took a couple deep breaths and held her phone up to check that she hadn’t ruined her make-up. Once she was sure that her make-up was still impeccable she cleared her throat. “If you promise not to then I trust you, but my promise stands.”

           “Right well we should go, don’t want to keep Stefan and Caroline waiting,” he said handing Bekah her purse.  

            “I know we were having a roommate movie night, but Rebekah apparently needs a buffer between her boyfriend and her brother,” Caroline said as she pulled on her favorite heeled booties, and checked her make up in the mirror.

           “Okay spill you’ve checked your make-up twice now and you’re wearing your leather leggings with your ‘I’m not trying to hard’ sweater top,” Katherine said leaning against the bathroom door looking at the blonde again fluff her curls twice in a row. Suddenly an evil smile split across her face. “You want to fuck Bek’s brother, don’t you?!”

           “What? No, of course not! That goes against everything in the girl code.” She responded, checking her lipstick as she smoothed it across her lips. Katherine giggled and shook her head clapping.

           “Caroline Ann Forbes, you have the hots for this Mikaelson brother,” she pulled her phone out and looked at her before tapping away on the screen, “I don’t blame you he looks great in a suit.”

           Confused Caroline spun around and grabbed the phone from Kats hands and looked at it to see an admittedly handsome face with brown hair and a well-tailored suit and a stern jaw staring back. “Kat this is Bekahs other older brother Elijah.” She tapped some more and found a picture of Klaus on a sofa. “Here this is Nik, the one that’s here this time.” Katherine whistled and took the phone back eyebrow raised.

           “I think the other brother is hotter, but you two would make beautiful children,” she said ducking when Caroline threw a hair brush in her general direction. “REMEMBER THE RULE!” Shaking her head, she walked back rubbing her back.

           “No throwing shit, because I have the best aim in the house,” Caroline parroted to Katherine while rolling her eyes.

           “Jesus Care, you nailed me dead center of my spine, like you have scary aim,” Katherine muttered as she resumed looking through his Instagram account. “You have to admit though he’s the got the bad boy mildly successful artist thing down.”

           Caroline shook her head grabbing her phone back from her roommate and while she also slipped her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll text you if I’m gonna be gone all night.”

           “Care! Over here,” Bekahs excited call alerted Caroline she was heading in the wrong direction with her glass of white wine, when she turned and saw her favorite other blonde standing at a tall table in the other corner. Two men that Caroline quickly recognized as Nik and Stefan were talking and standing as far apart as they could be around a small round table.

           “I’m so sorry I’m late, I was wrapping up some homework for my public policy course,” she said smiling embracing Bekah and giving both men a quick hug, though she would be remiss if she didn’t acknowledge that Nik smelled amazing.

           “No problem we only got here about ten minutes ago,” Stefan said stepping closer to Rebekah and wrapping an arm around her waist, this successfully put Caroline and Bekah between him and Klaus. Caroline offered him a small smile and turned to Klaus.

           “How are you liking Washington DC?” she asked as she sipped her wine looking at him and trying to keep her eyes planted on his face.

           “It reminds me of London, the lobbying, the politics.” He shrugged shooting a quick glance towards Rebekah and Caroline reminded herself why she was here. She turned so she was facing the middle of their little round table.

           “So, Stefan how goes the world of law school? Still convinced you made the right choice?” she asked winking at Rebekah who beamed as Caroline brought up the one topic that Stefan was never shy on.

           “Well now that you bring it up…” Stefan dove into his personal analysis of the last six months of his first year of the legal program at Georgetown. Caroline smiled as Klaus jumped into the topic hoping to trip up his sister’s boyfriend. Soon they were standing next each other debating the purpose and validity of government sanctions in the world of foreign policy.

           Caroline slid over to Rebekah who had been uncharacteristically quiet as Stefan and Klaus talked. Nudging her lightly she raised an eyebrow and spread her hands slightly. Rebekah sighed and grabbed her hand and started to pull her after her towards the bathroom line. Caroline quickly set her almost empty glass of wine on the table and smiled apologetically at the confused men.

           “Bekah, what is wrong?” she asked once they were out of ear shot from the guys.

           “Oh, Caroline I’m so worried, what if Nik goes home and tells everyone that Stefan is exactly the kind of man that they’re worried I’m dating.” She pushed through the line towards the far back end of the wall of the bathroom by an unoccupied sink. Stopping she looked at Caroline expectantly as though her best friend had all the answers.

           “Does your brother know how much you care about Stefan?” she asked slowly knowing that Rebekah had a massive habit of downplaying her affections and her emotions when it came to her family. It was the most annoyingly British trait about her.

           “I mean, I-well I said that his good opinion of Stefan mattered a great deal because I can see this relationship going somewhere,” she whimpered looking at her best friend as she tilted her head back trying to keep her panic tears at bay.

           “Then unless Damon crashes, your brother will give a glowing report back to your mother and other brothers,” Caroline said gently handing her best friend a Kleenex. As Rebekah dabbed at her eyes she cleared her throat and took a few deep breaths. Once she had calmed down and had thrown the tissue out, Caroline pulled her into a hug. “If she doesn’t I’ll kill him for you okay?”

           Rebekah gave a weak laugh her arms clinging to Caroline tightly before pulling away and facing the mirror behind the two girls. Taking the opportunity to fix her make-up, with Caroline quickly followed suit fixing her make-up. As she fluffed her hair and reapplied her lipstick she looked at Rebekah out the corner of her eye.

           “So, is Niklaus seeing anyone?” she asked slowly keeping her focus on her reflection ahead of her. When Rebekah paused in reapplying some powder, Caroline started mentally kicking herself.

           “No…,” Rebekah said slowly going back to touching up her make-up and not looking at Caroline.

           “Oh really, a guy like him? All brooding and mysterious?” Caroline pushed forward not looking at Bekah still. This time Bekah put her purse down and looked at Caroline.

           “Caroline Forbes, are you asking me for information on my brother’s romantic life?” she asked her voice quiet. Caroline mentally swore and slowly nodded. “Do you like him?”

           “I don’t know, I’m attractive to him-I mean nothing has happened, and I barely know him,” she trailed off as Rebekah just stared at her, eyes not meeting hers. Taking her friend’s hands, she pulled Bekah closer forcing her to look at her. “Rebekah, I would never date your brother, or even think about it if you don’t want me too. Even if he is the first guy I’ve found remotely interesting after everything that went down with Tyler.”

           “For fucks sake Care, you can’t expect me to not give you permission after hearing something like that,” Rebekah sniffled looking at her only best friend, aside from Stefan who honestly didn’t count. “Though will you promise that even if things don’t-” she took a deep breath, “if things don’t work out, we’ll still be best friends?”

           Caroline burst into laughter and pulled Bekah into a tight bear hug laughing as she grabbed another tissue from the box on the counter. “Beks you are an idiot, we’re friends for life, we’ve got a business to launch and your wedding to plan. Regardless of what happens with me and Nik, you and I are for life. You’re my soul-sister.” She wiped at Bekah’s eyes gently making sure her make-up remained perfection.

           “Then of course you can explore this attraction with my brother, though I should warn you, he wants to hear all about your hopes, your dreams, or some rot,” Bekah shuddered as she said that shaking her head. “I think he’s into you too, and if you go right now you can bring him to our favorite 24/7 diner for coffee and discuss all of that.”

           “You and Stefan going to be okay if we disappear?” she raised an eyebrow and silently cheered when Rebekah shooed at her. “You are an absolute angel on this earth!” Caroline raced through the crowded bar to find Stefan and Klaus still embroiled in their debate. “Sorry to interrupt, Klaus could I borrow you for a second?”

           “Of course, excuse me Stefan,” he said stepping towards her watching as she grabbed her purse. “Is everything alright?”

           “Oh-” she looked at Stefan who looked a little relieved and was hugging Rebekah tight to him. “Everything is fine I just thought maybe we could go do our own thing.” She leaned forward so she was against his chest and whispered, “You know talk about dreams, hopes, and other sappy stuff.”

           Klaus raised an eyebrow and when Caroline responded with a cocked brow of her own, he didn’t need any further encouragement. Soon they were walking into the low-lit DC streets arms linked as they went.

            Caroline sighed happily nestling closer to the warmth against her, before the rather unyielding pillow chuckled. Cracking an eye open, she felt her face flushing as a very much awake Klaus stared down at her.

           “Morning luv,” he said smoothing some hair away from her face.

           “Good morning,” she mumbled closing her eyes and blinking a few times to clear the sleep from her eyes. “So, we stayed out almost all night?”

           “Almost, and before you worry if you did or not, you texted your roommate group chat last night,” he said leaning over placing a quick kiss to her cheek as she sat up and cuddled against his warm body.

           “I remember, were you watching me sleep?” she asked yawning as the time on the clock flashed only nine am, four hours of sleep.

           “No as Beks puts it, that would be creepy, I was debating going for a coffee run. My hotel doesn’t have a coffee maker in it,” he said chuckling as she brightened considerably.

           “Since we’re both up could go out breakfast?” she asked softly worrying her lip as she stared him in the eye.

           “That sounds like the best way to spend the morning I could think of,” he said leaning over the side to pull his Henley over his head. When he pulled it down dislodging completely for a second he was caught off god as Caroline placed a light, hesitant kiss to his lips.

           “I’m glad we went off on our own.” She said pulling away pushing another loose strand behind her ear.

           “Me too,” he said wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer, “remind me to thank Bekah.” Caroline made a noise of agreement as she closed the distance and kissed him again.

           “I think we both owe her a favor at the bare minimum.” She mumbled against his lips.

[caesurabywriting]

do you have a drabble or headcanon of your otp: fooling the world & each other becoming engaged? pretty please. c: i'm curious.

because you said please + i’ll take any excuse to talk about them, i’m obligated to answer this. honestly i have way too many headcanons but i’m going to try and be concise and coherent here (+ huge apologies for how long this is anyway, but these two are hella complicated and i’m way too Extra for their angst)headcanons:

- they only get engaged because she claims she’s pregnant (spoiler alert: she’s not, but she’s relying on the fact that she can get pregnant soon after/in a close enough window for it to be true) - she uses that excuse to get his attention bc he seemed to be getting more and more distant and passive re: their relationship and she wanted to have a way to lock him down even if she has to heavily manipulate the situation to get her way. she’s like a milder form of amy dunne.- she’s also the poster child for abandonment and trust issues because her parents were awful, but it’s what brought them ~together~ in the first place. his ex-gf, viv, was her best friend. they all lived together in NYC, along w tom’s own bestie, for six years ( which is what #manhattan memoirs is about ) before viv one day abruptly moved out without an explanation, dropping contact with them both, abandoning their perfect unit of four. up until that point tom and tessa barely tolerated each other + had an ongoing banter thing going on. she had a short fuse and he loved to light it at any chance he got. antagonizing her was his favorite hobby. later on, they proceeded to ‘bond’ over angry and angsty hate sex to avoid being sad over her viv’s departure. but then feelings were caught. oops. anyways…- she’s a ~first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby~ kind of person, and he knows this. having a baby without being married first would be a huge deal breaker for her. if he declined stepping up to ask her to marry him there would be no baby and she’d tell him to leave (in theory, but between you and me i don’t think she could and would have come up with something more dramatic to get his undying attention)- it was very non romantic and went down more like a business deal discussion. she presented a serious ultimatum that needed addressing. she sprung it on him. essentially, pre-proposing his proposal. there was no ring or down-on-one-knee business. it was very much a highly staked version of ‘should i stay or should i go?’- she went out by herself after the ‘proposal’ and chose her own ring and everything. anything he chose would have been complained about and returned- he wanted/wants to propose again in a more romantic and thoughtful way because even though he’s pretty neutral about marriage, he sees it’s important to her and she deserves the best of things. alas, time kept ticking by and it seemed like he’d lost his shot, so he kept such plans to himself and lets her resent him a little extra for his apparent lack of involvement, as usual.i do not have a full drabble composed ( yet - but i probably will one day even though it will ruin my life ), but i do have various fragmented flashback/extracts from actual replies/past threads that may or may not make sense out of context but, regardless, i’ve collected them below if you’re interested on a glimpse of things somewhat engagement-related:

1. Their tables had done more than shift, they had been flipped and spun out. The undeniable truth tightly wrapped around his reality, pinning him transfixed in place. For better or for worse, those two lines had seen Tom’s uncontrolled fishtailing hitched onto a finite track. A duo of one dimensional pink had the power to change everything. Tom blinked over dilated pupils, his sentimental conscience sucker punched by a one-two hit of remorse and disquietude. It was all still etched into him like the grooves of a record, designed to be played on repeat at his masochistic leisure — Tessa presenting herself empty handed after already discarding the evidence, bearing the news with clutched hands and a penetrating gaze. Her voice, poised and decisively urgent: ’Stay.’ They were standing in the same room for the first time in three days. He’d avoided the sheen of her dark hair for the floorboards, ‘That’s not all you’re asking.’ His timbre noticeably wavered in comparison to hers. Like a whip, Tessa’s voice cut across with a warning flatline: ‘No. It’s what we are.’ Her eyes, calculating, soften magnanimously the moment he looks up, ‘You know your answer, don’t you, Thomas?’ 2. Her reveal had been a surprise. Admittedly, he was the only one to blame for that belief, his sense of awareness not particularly careful nor attentive during the time between an office shift ending and them falling from a fight into a bed together. In all it’s ‘A one time thing. We’re not doing this again,’ ( gradually switched out for ‘make it a one more time thing,’ ) glory. What had only ever been meant to be a secondary arrangement, intended to fill space, to pass time. The most beneficial way to end a combative argument. It was an exhausting interlude that matched the tone of his routine, wearing him down until he was nothing but fine grains. He had been confused, torn, and collectable.3. No celebratory graduation ceremony marked their progression as they impassively watched their shared temperature rise from ‘fling’ to ‘fiancé’, endlessly fluctuating between offensively heated and dishearteningly tepid throughout. Their anniversaries as somber as the sticker announcing it on the square of calendar. That catalyzing moment of history turned away from very deliberately. There were no sweet heart-eyed how did you two meet narratives to supply. Just Mr. Type-B and Ms. Type-A, two heartbroken kids susceptible to distraction. Amusing themselves until it became real. Maybe it did. Or maybe it was harmless and it was pure paranoia making it seem like a neon sign blinked above his head in an infinite line of alarmed exclamation marks.4. Wreckage was imminent no matter which way the pieces aligned. Home ( now ) was sleeplessly staring at a ceiling, deliberating in the dark and into the glow of the morning. Most of all, an internal pleading line of looped thought: Oh, God, let today be a normal day. Let him be normally nervous, unhesitating, and spontaneously happy. Let him not squint as Tessa walked away, the disheveled shadow of dark hair thrown down her back strongly evoking of another’s in poor lighting. Familiar shades of umber and taupe clashing with the lesser known notes of sangria and mint on her breath, the scent of rose in her hair. Tessa, an intended sojourn; a breathing space. An operating lightbulb to illuminate the dreary darkness of a vicissitude neither wanted to admit they were blind in trying to navigate. No one was ever prepared for a demotion into the limited edition status of another’s life when, viewed in the other direction, they’d presumably been branded essential. But it had happened, and Tessa was the only tangible reason not to go too far off an precipice that led to no tomorrow. Pulling at hands smudged with paint instead of cigarette ash in a desperate attempt at capsizing the insurmountable detritus of past imprints drifting throughout his system. Taking the brunt of all frustration, tremor, and every emotion banned from expression. Aggressively sidelining the only language he wanted to feel, touch, and listen to. Relearning a different one. Everything that had been absentminded and easy now requiring vigilance and humorless behavior. Yet as exhausting as all her short tempered glares and cavilling was, it had also been her strict accountability and interception between him and acts of stupidity that kept him together.5. She was a person to whom his surrendering murmur of ‘I love you’ often had the bitter aftertaste of something over-steeped. His palliative precursor, a promising commitment not to be cowardly, invitingly interchangeable with other prosperous phrases of three: I am here. I am staying. We are family. The woman who’d engaged in an unrequested initiative, yanking the dusty rug out from beneath their at-risk stale situation and pulling them into dazzling sunlight. He couldn’t have said no if he’d wanted to. He was prepared to try — faking it until it was true — just as he shouldered everything else. Maybe saying yes to Tessa, and in turn something that scared him, had been the gateway drug.6. There were many shouldn’t-ridden clauses, both spoken and not, between the two of them. Tessa and Thomas. One of the very first in-depth conversations they’d had ended with a shouldn’t. The first time he hadn’t felt the need to crack a prolonged, tensely held, silence with something deprecating. Instead, tentatively entering the humid air, a plea and a concern all in one: We shouldn’t do this, it’s too soon. Then, only two days later: we shouldn’t stop, I can’t do this alone. And the rest fell into natural order, the reoccurring theme of expectations fallen short: He shouldn’t come home so late. She shouldn’t have to ask twice. We shouldn’t talk about that. The clarity of her voice in his head was almost identical to a certain other someone’s. A different inflection, a different time — but just the same; a damning memory able to be plucked from the recesses of his mind at the most inconvenient of moments. Tessa’s censorious commentary was never far behind. He’d been consumed by it in slowly advancing increments for nearly ten years. In the beginning, a day-to-day routine of merely pretending he was listening to her as he dotingly observed the accompanying figure that she’d arrived with. More recently, her unimpressed narration wove through the fabric of any of the romantic or couple-y things they tried to do. Tom, begrudgingly following her into the overcrowded abyss of whatever public outing she’d pre-arranged, always far too absentminded, staying alert for all the wrong reasons. Looking down to check on even the slightest vibration of his phone — a problem? A meeting? A respite? — whilst completely avoiding having to provide any input on Tessa’s newly favorite subject ( it rhymed with bedding ). Their verbal tennis matches, a ceaseless tit-for-tat game of passive aggression, could run steady laps around everything else they did. It was almost an entity of it’s own. There was Tom, there was Tessa, and there was that low pressure that hung in the atmosphere whenever they entered into the same room as if someone had made tasteless a joke at a funeral. The one beam of hope through it all was the fact that, admitted to or not, they knew each other too well. Despite what they withheld from one another — even though, if presented the same card drawn during a Rorschach Test she’d see the shape of a book where he’d see a pint of beer — they could never return to being strangers. Getting to know her had been a muffled process, a slowly sinking feeling. The diluting of a strongly flavored concentrate with hot water. Three parts scathing to one part cordial. Mild enough to eventually be widely palatable as opposed to the too-potent original double dose; the sort of thing that appealed to rush-seeking junkies and hyperactive children and those who fell somewhere in between.

[bookreadalongs]

November 9

17:16 5/9/2017 I should've waited until 11/9 to read this. It did not escape me that those numbers were 9/11 in a different order. This is not that kind of book at all though. Was. It a huge fan of the first part. It was not relatable , unbelievable, and just full of instalove. It was interesting that Fallon pointed out a lot of the shit. They both pointed out a lot of it, actually. It just felt weak...yet here I am, unable to put it down. Second November 9 Also, I did appreciate that he could not articulate his thought spectacularly. I appreciated that as a writer (and a person in general) he knew the importance of digging beneath the surface, finding motivation and truth that cannot immediately be seen. 87. A manic episode? So...he's bipolar? - also, doubtful now...but I thought he could possibly be a prostitute when his room mate was like yoooo where ya been 99. He seems to be the only one (okay, only Fallon and her dad are the other people I took into consideration) emphasizing her life in the whole...ordeal. 104. haha that's Kyle's girlfriend, right? Who's living with them now? I went to go back and check, but then I stopped myself. I should just read on. - Ah...so Fallon is what he wished his mom was...weird phrasing. I meant, alive. Hey, Fallon also compared Ben to her mom. 111. Yeah, as soon as Kyle came in and acted like that I was 10% more intrigued. Now, it's been amped up to 25% more 112. I don't get it. Is Kyle...it can't be Fallon in particular that he had a past with. CHoover has already done that shizz. 127. He's so loaded... 133. She so isn't going to be able to do all that with him. It's too perfect...too planned. This book is about things- reality- stopping plans from coming to fruition 138. You got a last minute plane ticket for her. Her dads not rich, but she seems well enough off to see you. And this book will be weird if one of the only times you see each other in five years is a phone call. 152. All of her nakedness and he hadn't even been shirtless yet. I've a feeling his jealousy is no match for what hers should be comparing his romantic endeavors with hers. I'd like her to keep the shirt 168. This is good. I like this. It's just not as compelling as LJ...maybe I'm just not grown up enough...but this is just... wry clearly a romance novel 171. Did he cause his mom's death? I have noticed (obviously) CHoover's method of having a character have some deep dark secret. Blaming himself for something that is not his fault is...not it. I don't know. 176. I appreciate CHoover's consciousness of people (okay, admittedly frequently females read her books) are quick to blame the female character. I'm kind of glad I didn't. I used to be that way. Such double standards... 180. Oh my gosh. HOW DID SHE DO IT? I TOTALLY FELT THAT WOULD HAPPEN? WHAT FORESHADOWING DID SHE DO? Like how it was obvious that one guy was deaf. She just gives out these subtle vibes. That's what really impresses me. I was thinking how it would be weird if brother thing...THEN IT HAPPENED. But it's also like...they were at their weakest ever...surely it couldn't have continued...yet her we are. Talk about bad timing, huh? Always. @LJandJohnAmbroseMcClaren 182. Wow. That's what he thinks? That's really what he thinks...that's what t alluded to I suppose. 183. I realized why it seemed like he was with Jordyn. He was being a dad. I mean...that had to been all there was...but, hm. I don't know. Those vibes, man. 184. I'm dying. This is it. This is why. I can feel so enamores and captured by the book even if I feel kind of a tinge apathetic and a little not connected to the characters...yet also tear up at these moments. 185. Obviously you can't leave like this...on the off chance you both decide to come back next year. "Off chance"...but for them it could be the last time they see each other. I guess she just makes weirdly real characters even though they also feel so fake...I really do admire her as an author. I feel like that admiration isn't coming through enough. I do love her work. 186. WOOO LOVER BOY NOTICES. This just makes for such a fucked up family. Like, the future? After they've had se x? Like...no. What the heck. Uncle...uh...Ben? And mommy? Ewwww! 188. Ohhhhhhh! Ben was with Jordyn first? Maybe? Interesting! I just read about Fallon not wanting to take him away from a woman who has been through so much. How did that cause me to think that? How does she write like this? 189. AH THAT WAS GOOD. That was SO GOOD. Fifth September nine 193. I bet this is the first one that started...not about one of them thinking about the other. The fire. I want to read Slammed. She says that...because she's afraid she'd lose the race of love. 198. "I'm studying the probability of soulmates" I love it. I hands down love it so much. That is my favorite sentence in this whole book. Because, of course he's studying that. That's just...him. I love it so much. Especially after Fallon began this chapter not believing in fate. It's great. 199. Okay, maybe I'm completely being ignorant here, but I feel like vibes were to be given off that Theodore was being a like...I need to find another word...rapey. 200. He never loved her though...did he? See, if I as the reader don't know, it's completely fair for her not to know. Did amber tell him? 202. They. Not we. Home? Surely he lives somewhere else then? But...that house is too big for only the two. 206. STOP SHE IS KIND OF A LITTLE DRUNK INSTEAD OF ROOTING FOR HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE NOVEL I WAS LIKE WHAT THE HECK 207. So, Amber did not tell Ben.... 208. Haha cue the scene where you're meant to love Amber 209. Ahhh! So it was Glenn! Obviously. Good job, dude! 210. I want her to say no. But that tomorrow-yes, that would be good. She needs to feel bad for how he felt too. 211. HOW DARE YOU!! Awww her friends....plus Ben 213. Agreed. Very agreed. A million times agreed. I hope the epilogue is like November ten -year six A year needs to pass OF them being a couple for an epilogue 214. He never told her he loved her. Not in those words, sure that he was falling in love with her, but not actually there. 215. See? That's what I knew would be really weird and bad and icky for a long time. 219. Okay, when is his bombshell going to drop though? It's always in these last few pages. 221. AHHHH HOW DID HE DEPICT HER? Maybe that's it. I feel like it'll have to play a role. Maybe after she broke his heart? I don't know! I'm so excited! 224. Honestly, better restraint than me. 227. Wow. I imagined he was the cause of his mother's fire. This is...not what I really thought. Awkward. Weird. Very secretive. Not poetic. 228. He did evade that one question early on. It was before I started taking notes. Mental notes though...Amber, I think asked when they met-no. That was how long they were dating. Fallon said something? I don't know, oh wait! About the first time he saw her, I think? Then he was like "well when I first saw you in that booth an hour ago..." and I was like that's so not what she said. But he didn't know the accident or...I guess just the situation she was referring to...oh. Welp. 228. Why would he incriminate himself by telling everyone? I'm confused by that. 230. I thought he commit arson for so long. How does she do this? 232. I like it. Like, that's what he dad instilled in her for so long. She had so many walls built up. For the one to help her take them down to hide this...and do it. Woah there. 234. I came into this book thinking it would be the fact that she didn't know he was writing about her would be the breaking point. Then, she knew the whole time, so I stopped thinking that...well...assumptions will be the death of me. 236. Wow. I like it. Ah, yes. Another year. 241. Okay, we all know it wasn't Amber. 243. Okay, even though she won't read it obviously her mom would. Or else, how else would their love story progress? We see his perspective to understand it's true. It weed out the fabrications imagined by a girl who has only seen him 5 days over the course of her life. 249. What? Was Fallon's father the cause of it? 250. Apparently...she went through with it. So, no foul play. Her tattoo, how does t relate to his? I guess just the fact that she was a poetry major. What about the fact that it was on a staff? 251. I see now. Something to do with his father, maybe? Uhg. Please don't let them be siblings...unless Fallon's mother was also unfaithful, but that would just screw up HER character. 252. I guess he did say music was important. Well, he only said that because of his mother. I need to go to that first time he went home. I need to reread that. 53-54. Where was he last night? 254. No page numbers is making this difficult. This is...obvious, right? 258. Oh, was he outside of their house that night? I want to go back to when Fallon talked about the girl who married for the money Donovan didn't have. I want to see Ben's response. Again. Not now though. Not right before the arson. 265. Panic attack? What does he have? Anything? Definitely something. Counting down? Ah, DEFINITELY something. 273. So, when Kyle died...he lost. He lost everything. 276. Wowza. This is long. I feel like my suicide letter- woah. Like, hypothetically. Completely hypothetically, would be super long too. Because I ramble. This note is very inappropriate. Did not realize that when I began it. Welp. What can ya do? WOAH WOAH WOAH PLOT TWIST. I saw the others coming, this? Not so much. 278. Had Kyle read the letter? He tossed the money on the table like he knew what he was doing. If Ian had to go to the station, and only just picked up a copy...Kyle couldn't have read t yet. WOW LOOKY THERE! BEN DID KNOW! That date was important for Ben too. That's why he was at their house the night before. That's why he was so unkempt. That's why neither of them slept much. 280. What do you mean half the manuscript? That was three chapters, none of which had you. Oh, she must have read more. Must have, right? 281. Oh. So, he wasn't visiting their house. He was with someone. Just as I thought earlier. Who the heck is it? How did Jordyn know? 382. He said once he met and talked with and did everything that day with Fallon, actually, it was in the middle. Because that's when he saw Kyle. But he said to himself, in his inner monologue, that he would change now...because of her. 283. Uhhhhhhhgggg fuck. That's exactly what I thought. Kyle. Kyle knew...that's fucking kid. Oh my gosh. I'm so blown away right now. Kyle was such a fricken trooper. Oh fuck. Goodness gracious that was such a trip. Good. I'm so glad. 287. Ahhh! Then you follow him to wherever he goes because you want to talk? 296. Ahhh! After all those spin offs of the story from the guy's side, this is the best. Well, she always alternates. She tries to make them more...masculine with boobs and whatnot, but they're always sensitive. Not just her, a bunch of writers. That's okay though. Because they're so dang lovable. Wait wait wait. Half way through the manuscript? That isn't that long. Certainly not enough for a novel...hmmm... 298. Ah, yes. Fate was in that little poemy bit hat has been before each action. HEY MY EPILOGUE IDEA OF NOV 10 IS LIKELY...or they'll just finish things up on the ninth like usual. I'd actually, again, prefer a flash forward...so Year 7. Like Harry Potter! But...why did they always wait so long so solve any bit of their problems? Interesting. "Last". Wasn't the fifth the last? Is it one in the same? It must be. Obviously they must make up...now. 305. Throwback to before when I started writing notes and she was like and there's this awesome guy who's practically a fictional boyfriend in front of me and I was like hah eye roll. 306. Aww that's actually quite cute. Could've gone straight to him though...and just gotten it together. You really scared him. But, it's fine. 307. Haha spoilers. I love it though. It's just as cutesy as one would only expect. Also, it's good that it didn't end on the twelve thing. I like that. It's cause of the whole author thing and her love of reading. Can we take a second to adore that she opened up a whole new genere to him? That's huge! A whole new world of possibilities were introduced. That's so sweet. I mean...also that they saved each other, but details, you know? 20.57 read straight through for the first time in a while 4 stars

[thetexpatriatemama-blog]

The Texpatriate Baby Arrives

Ask any mama: Every pregnancy is unique. Compound that with the vast differences of pregnancy and childbirth in different countries, and you get two experiences that are, literally and figuratively, miles apart.

My life is not the most dramatic by any stretch of the imagination. Likewise, both of my pregnancies were remarkably average (thank goodness). Besides a smattering of back pain, searing heartburn, and insatiable cravings for chocolate and cottage cheese, I can’t really complain. But just because two pregnancies are average does not mean they are even close to being the same.

During my first pregnancy in Texas, I worked two jobs, moved mid-pregnancy, and spent any free time planning my registry, decorating the nursery, and yes, sleeping. Ahh…the perks of life BC—that’s Before Children. Healthcare in Texas made things easy and I loved the pregnancy perks. Constant sonograms and imaging to check in with my little guy, excellent baby care, birthing, and breastfeeding courses offered by my hospital of choice, and the luxury of knowing my hand-selected hospital was only a 5-minute drive away. I loved that my OBGYN listened to my input and that the hospital was receptive to my (admittedly picky) birth plan. Other than being induced due to low amniotic fluid, my labor and delivery was decidedly normal. Long and arduous, but normal. Overall, it was an exceptional experience.

When we moved to Sweden with our then 18-month-old, we talked about the possibility of having another LO in the next year or so. Because we didn’t know how long we would be living abroad, we decided to go for it! I was hesitant to go through the pregnancy and birthing process in a foreign country, especially one with such a different health care philosophy from that of the U.S. Truth be told, I should have just steered clear of any and all Facebook groups consisting of expat moms who were pregnant abroad. Let me tell you, it’s usually only the negative experiences that moms feel the need to share. Between those horror stories and articles popping up on my FB feed about babies being born in taxis or moms being sent to Finland because the hospitals here are so overcrowded, I was a little nervous to say the least! (These were actually some of the less scary stories! 😥)

After we began trying, it didn’t take long (okay, a week) to seal the deal. It was official. We were having a baby in Sweden. Navigating the socialized health care here is not always hardly ever easy…especially when your Swedish doesn’t even compare to your 2.5-year-old’s. 😊 Nonetheless, I was assigned a midwife (you only see a doctor for a pregnancy here if there is an issue) and was told that the first appointment wouldn’t be until around week 12. At which point, I found out that the phrase “laid back” does not do justice to the Swedish philosophy on pregnancy. No need to confirm the pregnancy with a test. No need for more than 2 or 3 sonograms during the entire pregnancy. No need to be weighed at each appointment (Score! 🎉). Heck, my midwife never even gave me a single internal exam or breast exam throughout the entire pregnancy…not that I am complaining!  

In Sweden, it is assumed that the default is a normal pregnancy, and additional precautions are only taken if problems arise…but no need to stir up drama where there is none, right? This laissez-faire approach has its pros and cons. Obviously, a hands-off approach is more affordable for taxpayers, and the Swedish philosophy is to not “bother” the baby with constant monitoring. Apparently, the paparazzi of monthly sonograms is just too much for babes to handle while they are developing in the womb. In terms of the mother’s mental well-being, it can be frustrating not knowing for sure that everything is going by the book. That being said, even an infinite number of tests could never guarantee that no problems go overlooked. And since every pregnancy is different, what is “by the book” anyway? Overall, I appreciated the easy-going approach more than I expected because it made me a little more easy-going, too. I simply had no choice but to let things go and just try not to worry (of course, it helped immensely that it was my second pregnancy).

Although I didn’t have much choice in my midwife assignment, I found myself blessed with an absolutely fabulous one. She was reassuring, knowledgeable, friendly, and most importantly, knew I wasn’t Swedish. She did everything she could to explain the hows and whys of the Swedish pregnancy to me in a way that I would understand.

As the weeks passed and my due date loomed near, I told her that my first pregnancy had to be induced due to low amniotic fluid and expressed my concerns that this pregnancy might follow suit. She was receptive to my concerns, but ultimately, the Swedes really really don’t like to induce labor any earlier than absolutely necessary. Their rationale? It can up the risks of a C-section and yes, it would be a shame to bother the baby before she is ready to make her debut. Perhaps this is why Sweden has one of the lowest C-section rates in the world (about half that of the U.S.)...

Well, my due date came and went. I was convinced that I was not meant to go into labor on my own. (The women in my family have a tendency to go two weeks late and then need induction, so I figured I would be no different.) Four days after my due date, I woke up around 3am with a stabbing pain in my right side below my bump. This was no labor pain. I called the hospital.

“Can you feel the baby moving? Call back in an hour or so if you haven’t felt her move.”

Okay…A few spoonfuls of cottage cheese and a tablespoon of Nutella ought to get her moving. An hour later? Nuthin’. I jostled and wiggled, but she just wasn’t having it. Although the pain in my side was still going strong.

I called back.

Okay, we are headed to the hospital. We hopped on the nearby subway with our packed hospital bag and car seat just in case we left the hospital with one more person than we had arrived with.

After around 10 hours of testing and monitoring, the sharp pain in my side was still a big question mark. But one thing was clear: I was not in labor. A few irregular contractions here and there and the first internal exam of my entire pregnancy confirmed that much. Because the baby had finally woken up a bit (literally the second we walked into the pregnancy wing of the hospital), they chose not to induce, despite my pleas to get on with it. Far and away, my least favorite part of giving birth under socialized health care is the distinct feeling that I didn’t really have much say in how things were going to go down. I missed having a voice, having a vote, in how my baby was born. It had been my body for 30 years, and it seemed absurd that my opinion didn’t amount to much, despite my ability to recount to the doctors and staff the growing risks of allowing this little egg to cook for too long.

So, instead of giving me a baby, the staff pushed a few pain medications on me (despite my outspoken desires to avoid narcotics during my pregnancy). I had avoided taking a single “optional” medication throughout my pregnancy, and strong pain relievers have an adverse effect on me, anyway. That didn’t seem to faze any of the staff.

I was told to return the following day to check on the progress of my nebulous pain. It hadn’t subsided completely, but it was not as excruciating, so they considered it a win and sent me home. Again.

I cried the whole way home. Five days past my due date and all I wanted was to be induced. I could even handle a long labor and more painful contractions if it meant not going another week with the aches and pains of being overdue.

Once the woeisme phase passed, I went home and tried cheering myself up by Googling hilarious ways other mamas had tried inducing naturally. A few of my favorites?

·       Eat 8 whole pineapples.

·       Castrol oil. (You read right. This is not to be confused with Castor Oil. 😂)

·       Shine a flashlight…up there.

·       “Put the vacuum on your boob.”

·       Row to the middle of a lake in a small boat.

These ideas definitely cheered me up—and I may have tried a few of the more commonly known techniques myself. 😏 From prunes to peppermint oil, and some slightly more embarrassing strategies, I did everything I could to take matters into my own hands.

So, what happened? I woke up the next morning in labor, folks. Whether it was timing or technique, we will never know. I crossed my fingers that the hospital would have a bed for me (they didn’t the last two days I visited due to overcrowding and too few staff). Luckily, it was as if my little girl had timed her grand entrance conscientiously because there was a spot open with our name on it. We waited until contractions were 4 minutes apart and headed in. When we arrived, I was around 4-5cm dilated and the delivery midwife said something very Swedish. “Go take a walk for an hour or two. Get some food and then you can come back later.”

Seriously? I didn’t know if I should be offended at basically being told to get out of her hair (in the nicest way possible, of course) or excited at the fact that I was allowed to eat! One of the perks of being in a country with such a low rate of C-sections. 😉

When we returned around 1.5 hours later, it was time to settle in for the long (or short) haul. When I couldn’t handle the contractions anymore, they administered a “walking epidural” that would relieve some of that pain. Little did I know that it didn’t do much of anything to relieve the pain of the delivery itself. 😲 After my experience in Texas, it was decided: Not all epidurals are created equal, my friends.

After around 12 hours of laboring, our little girl was popped onto my chest (sans bath) and we got acquainted with one another. She came out at 8 pounds even (exactly 1 pound heavier than my son) and 20” long. Her APGARs were 9 and 10 and she was amazingly chill for a baby who had just made her entrance into this brave, new world. One of her first executive decisions? EAT!

An hour or so later, we checked out of the hospital and into the “Patienthotell,” which is basically exactly what it sounds like. We chatted with a midwife for a bit before crashing hard. Our first night was surprisingly simple. No nurses constantly checking in, a snuggly bed, and a good decent night’s sleep. In the morning, we had breakfast at the hotel and an appointment with a pediatrician to make sure our little Dreampuff was happy and healthy. One more chat with a midwife and we were on our way home to introduce the newest family addition to our son.

So, how do the two experiences compare side-by-side? If I had to choose one over the other, I would honestly be hard-pressed. 

For me, one of the most important things is knowing that my voice and my opinion on what should happen to my body and my baby matter. In my experience, I found this to be the case more so in the U.S. because I was footing some of the bill myself. I had a choice of doctor, hospital, birth plan, and on-the-fly decision making. That was not always the case in Sweden, although I felt incredibly lucky to be in such capable hands for most of my pregnancy. 

Plus, I loved the hands-off approach in Sweden and in the hours after the birth, I would say Sweden wins hands down. There was a feeling of calm and serenity afterwards that helped us settle in, as opposed to the hustle and bustle of testing, bright lights, and uncomfortable recovery rooms in the U.S. Seriously, it is beyond me why the rest of the world has not adopted the idea for Patient Hotels.

Now that we are back home with our precious little Squeaker, we are looking forward to the next part of this journey: raising a tiny tot abroad. This could get interesting.

Hej då,

TheTexpatriateMama

[f3v3rw0lf]

1/21/2017

100,000 people showed up in downtown portland today for the women’s march. it was fucking incredible-- for a while the streets were too packed to even march. i think my favorite cheer was “we will not go away, welcome to your first day”

there was a marching band, and thousands upon thousands of incredible signs. my housemates ditched me so i took the bus and everyone sitting near me wanted to look at my pins and patches and my sign (one side: support your sisters not just cis-sters. other side: queer goblins for women’s rights) and i ended up talking with a lovely older women in the back about college and debt and progress. everyone was so kind and excited and even though we got absolutely drenched, the atmosphere was positive. it was a celebration as much as a protest. it was so supportive (for the most part) and i am so glad i went.

there was also the knowledge of the history we were creating. in a hundred years (should our species survive that long) future generations will look back and they will see that we fought. they will see how angry we were, how much we wanted to survive, how badly we wanted to love and to be kind. i hope they will trust the personal accounts more than the bare-bones misinformation of the media. i hope they will admire our art and our dedication and our passion. 

there was a little more that went on, in the personal sphere: kissing and getting lost and not being able to find my friends in the crowd. there were awkward interactions and sweet interactions. i got hugged by a lovely queer woman who liked my trans girl sign (it was a little bit popular, and i hope most of all that trans femme ladies saw it and i hope they felt a little bit safer). i danced my ass off in front of the band, of which there is definitely internet footage. (i am not looking for it; i don’t want to look at myself, i feel shitty enough occupying this corporeal form) the last song the band played was “i will survive”

there were also the bad parts-- Aru, Lloyd’s girl, getting separated from her group and being harassed by terfs at the march because she wasn’t “feminine” enough. i am so fucking angry. i can’t think of what else to say. i am furious and in pain and because i am myself, i’m angry for not somehow preventing it. im angry for not having more energy to argue with terfs and im angry at my own internalized transmisogny that makes me surprised it happened. 

i’ve been feeling numb recently. i guess its normal in such different environments-- my body suspending my emotions until i’m safe enough to filter through them. i find the fear leaking back in, and even among all the pink and the solidarity and the music, i can’t forget that some of us will not survive the next few years. maybe all of us. 

for example:

yesterday, inauguration day, we took to the streets. it wasn’t a sanctioned march-- i heard they tried to get permits and were refused, i also heard they don’t give a fuck about permits, i heard a lot of things. it started out as always-- talking a little longer than the crowd was prepared to sit for, and then out onto the streets. the cops have learned since the election day times, and they were out in full riot gear everywhere they didn’t want us to go, which was roughly everywhere. on the news sites, they’re saying protesters threw projectiles. i just want to say that the whole march, i didn’t see anything like that. there were legal observers all standing near the cops, people with cameras recording, but i didn’t see anything that could be construed as violence.

eventually, i guess they got tired of us marching. they forced us to go up toward pioneer square and then, once next to it, they told us our protest was unlawful and to disperse. unfortunately, they’d blocked off all the exits (the way we’d come was open, but everywhere else had lines of riot cops) and nobody was really ready to go. they used flash bangs and tear gas and pepper spray. i got to know what the phrase “snatch and grab” means. 

we made the best of it. my heart swelled for every single marcher that night (even the white anarchists). bobby had a megaphone they kept using, to heckle the cops (”I’ll go home if you make out!” “give us some sloppy coppy” “just kiss each other!” were some notable shouts) to spread information, to attempt to find me (apparently a whole section of the crowd was on the lookout for me. once i was located, they reported their finding and the entire section cheered). after the cops declared the protest unlawful, they started a rousing round of “All Star” by Smash Mouth. i shared the chocolate chip cookies i’d made earlier (they were a little underdone and squished-- more slightly baked dough, but no one complained) and later received a delicious scone from some humans. everyone i interacted with was kind and strange and angry. it was clearly stranger, sharper, and more homegrown than today’s protest. more dangerous as well, but just as worth it.

not to say i’m completely happy-- i go back and forth with the anarchists. their actions put the more vulnerable members of our community at risk, and making a mess that pam the janitor is just going to have to clean up in the morning. some of them are so fucking shitty to working class people (Aru let us into her work so we could pee, some time around 8, and a crowd came past. they dragged one of her works dumpsters into the street, presumably to stop police following them. one of the store’s managers came out, because they’d only have to drag them back, and the one of the protesters mocked her.) it’s messier and some of the people are worse. in the days following the election i got into a screaming match with a few. i dont know if i trust the organizers of the event-- i want to, but we admittedly don’t know much about them. i hope i’m doing the right thing

i think we are. i think i am. i think i could be doing more-- i think we all could, and i think if i believe we’re doing enough, we’ll be losing. we have to walk the line of staying strong and striving for more, so we don’t wreck ourselves, but we don’t get complacent. i’m going to be honest, i love the graffiti, and i have some stencil or sticker ideas to look into. im going to keep writing, and im going to put angry words on my clothes and flowers on my vest and i am going to hold my friend’s hands in public and i am going to call my representatives and heckle them and i am going to sing at the riot police and i will participate in whatever marches or strikes or sit-ins or teach-ins i can. i will defend my family to the best of my ability, and i will try to forgive myself for my inevitable failures. i will keep myself strong and i will hold out my arms to pull as many people up as possible. dark days ahead, but i’m the monster who thrives in the dark.