#cause she can't remember my name even when I still had her as a teacher
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Omg that's sooooo true lmao
#except for my french teacher#cause she can't remember my name even when I still had her as a teacher#reallll#jokes#humor#lol#spiderman#teachers#doctor octopus#memories#caca#triple baka
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the leaks:
skimming through the entire chapter 431 with my rough translation skills.
Uraraka's Quirk Counseling expansion seems to be her (and Tsuyu) trying to single-handedly screen for problems and child abuse by spending one month at every single (elementary) school/school district? They're helped by volunteer heroes.
She's also helped by Hawks, who negotiating with the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology and other organizations to provide support to change quirk education.
She is the best hero. 😭😭😭
My worries about quirk counseling have been slightly mollified by this. Slightly. It's geared towards very young children, and we don't see the actual counseling, just Heroes spending time with kids to make sure they're not showing signs of distress, but it's nice to see this tiny glimpse.
Uraraka has dreams about Toga, and wonders if Toga left her blood/quirk/will inside of Uraraka similar to how OFA functioned. Uraraka can't remember the content of the dreams, though, and wonders if Toga is trying to send her a message.
Deku says he's developed a policy to help students develop their quirks. He also goes around to elementary schools and facilities and give lectures, sharing his experiences with young girls and boys.
Shouto has taken up pottery-making classes, after thinking a lot about fate and inevitability and his path
The entire class mobilizes to capture a car thief who may or may not have used his quirk - alert said that if he does just his quirk, it might cause a big accident? idk about this part.
When Deku asks Uraraka out, Uraraka finally remembers her Toga dream, which is Toga telling her that just like how Toga lived as she liked, Uraraka should live as she likes. So Uraraka says yes to going out with Deku.
.☠️☠️☠️.
Laughing so hard because 'go live as you please!' is so Toga! It's Toga's ideal and guiding principle. She clung to being her quirk-influenced, bisexual-love, creepy-smile self, fighting to love and die as herself. She would be happy for Ochako following her heart! But did it have to be the most conventional hetero cutesy romcom shit.
The OFA-esque accumulation of will and power of Toga's quirk and love and ideals............... to encourage Ochako to date Deku.
I don't believe the League is mentioned at all by name except for Toga via Uraraka's dream, and one line from Shouto saying he was praying at Touya's altar (thus confirming that Touya is dead).
AFO is mentioned but in context of young heroes deriving their impressions of heroism from the AFO battle? idk about this part.
Two flashbacks to Shigaraki, from Deku.
First is Deku flashbacking to him inside Tenko's heart, holding Tenko's hands, as he talks about how even if he had OFA, he would still come to want to be a teacher.
(Feel like this is interesting because AFO has always been 'Sensei'/teacher to Shigaraki. In a way it feels like Deku is trying to be a Good Teacher to AFO's Bad Teacher, I guess?)
Second is Deku ruminating on Shouto's talk about 'inevitability' and how he's doing everything he wanted, and he's blessed. He flashes back to Shigaraki's "Really, do your best," which is when he also notices Uraraka laughing and get heart eyes.
So i'm laughing again that even without a dream ghost, Shigaraki's words about destruction also gets used and recontexted to fuel Deku/Ochako.
Did that extra panel of Shigaraki's almost-smile in Chapter 423 come about just to give us this ~*~parallel~*~???
It's pure gold. Villainous creeds (Destroy everything / Live as I please) ultimately used to not even prop up the Heroes doing heroic stuff related to the society that the Villains were rebelling against... but rather to get Deku and Uraraka on a date.
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The beginning | Hazel Callahan
You need help from the club so you are going to ask them.
English is not my first language.
this is going to be a series (hopefully)
Song recommendation: Girls Make Me Wanna Die by The Aces (Hazel coded fight me)
Enjoy 🌱
When you talked about the problem with your teacher, he recommended them to you. It's not like you haven't considered it, but they were honestly kind of intimidating. But in desperate times desperate solutions. And now you needed their help. Cheering yourself up, you opened the gym door at the same time someone fell painfully to the floor with a hollow sound.
"Suck my pussy, Sylvie!" PJ screamed at the top of her lungs.
With unsteady steps you approached them.
"Hi" you spoke with a soft voice.
They all stopped watching PJ's obscene dance celebration and turned to look at you. Even Sylvie who was still laying on the floor.
"I need your help"
"And this one?" PJ asked in confussion looking at you up and down. "Nevermind you are hot" She approached you moving her hair. "What does my lady need me for?" she asked with a flirtatious voice.
You looked around for help.
"Leave her alone" Josie pushed PJ away from you and stood in front of you. "Hi, I'm Josie, you say the you need our help?"
"I know who you guys are" You said looking around at the familiar faces.
"So you knew my name" PJ asked in a flirtatious voice, again.
"Shut up" Josie said as she pulled PJ's ponytail.
"You killed the Huntington guys" you began to explain "My ex... He's been a pain in my ass since I break up with him. He doesn't stop calling or texting me, he has even followed me to my house several times. I don't know what to do. I went to the principal but he told me I shouldn't have broken his heart"
"You want us to do the same thing that we did to those Huntington guys?" Josie asked confused.
"I'm in"
"Shut up Sylvie and get up you're going to choke on your blood" PJ looked at you with a smile "It would be a pleasure to kill for you"
"No, it wouldn't be, wait. We can't kill more people" Josie's exaggerated gestures were kind of funny but you didn't laugh. "We wouldn't even know how, that time it was an accident"
"But it was funny" Stella remembered.
"I didn't say it wasn't, cause I enjoyed it. But we can't kill people... Or more people"
"What about just hurting him" You were sure that the one who just spoke was called Hazel. "Like... Something that is not going to kill him but that is going to cause him intolerable pain"
They were silent for what seemed like minutes.
"Well, it doesn't involve murder so why not?" PJ said as the others shook their heads in approval.
"Now we are gonna end up in prison" Josie complained quietly.
"You know that men think that women are not capable of things like that, we will be fine, don't be a bitch" PJ made everyone sit on the floor "We need a plan, a strategy, something that makes us look smart."
"What about a bomb under his car" Isabel suggested.
"We cannot repeat script, boooring" The one with the ponytail complained.
"What about under his bed?" Brittany said.
"Now we are talking"
"We just said no murders" Josie shouted. "We are gonna help you just... We need time to think of something... legal"
"Boring"
Ignoring PJ Josie turned to see you "Where do you live?"
"Near the store that sells drugs and food for flamingos"
"Perfect" she clapped "Hazel will walk home with you in case your ex shows up"
"Why me?" she asked looking up.
"Because you also live near that store"
"Not so close actually"
"Hazel!"
The two had a strange staring contest where it seemed like they were communicating.
Suddenly Hazel began to nod her head, making her hair strands move in a somewhat hypnotizing way. Wait what? "Ah! that's true, I practically live inside the store, it will be fine, we can go... together. Yes. If you want, cause I want if you want. If you don't want to, that's fine too. Yes"
"Stop" Annie coughed under her breath.
"Smooth" Sylvie scoffed.
What had you gotten yourself into?
#hazel callahan#ruby cruz#bottoms 2023#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan x reader#hazel x reader#wlw#lesbian#sapphic#PJ#stella rebecca#josie#annie#sylvie#isabel#brittany#bottoms movie
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Normally, you're happy to visit the Head Housemaiden's office. You've dedicated your life to Change since you came to the House, and she's guided you for many of those years, first as a teacher in various courses you took and then as a mentor as you made more and more Changes. She was even considering naming you as her successor, as her hair loses its darkness and she feels ready to take new Changes more slowly and languidly than most practicing Housemaidens. But right now, she looks at you with pity in her eyes, and you feel ice in your stomach.
"I've noticed a Change in you, Euphrasie. I'm not sure if you're aware of it…or perhaps you are, but didn't wish to talk about it," she says, adding on that last bit as some twitch in your face betrays you.
Your hands wring each other in your lap. "I'm sorry," you say.
The potential for Change is a motivating force for the faith's adherents. But all but the most innocent children know that Change is not always good. Change requires Destruction, and Change is not always voluntary or desirable.
This Change is terrifying.
"I should have told you when it started, but I thought perhaps I was just tired, or stressed--I thought it was temporary, or that I could Change to be able to work around it, but--" It's getting harder and harder to explain yourself as tears choke your throat and spring up in your eyes. You wanted to give yourself time to adapt, and in so stole time from Amandine. She could have had another successor picked by now.
"Euphrasie." Amandine reaches an open hand across her desk, and you take it. She gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and when you look at her through the haze of tears you glimpse her kind smile, one you've striven to emulate. "I'm not upset, only concerned. Changes of the mind can be very difficult to cope with, and I'm worried you've been trying to deal with this alone."
It takes at least three more minutes of crying before you can speak again. Amandine can surely discern the answer from that alone, but she waits patiently for you to speak again, her thumb rubbing over your hand in a calming gesture. "I--I didn't know what to say," you admit. "I'm--forgetting my tasks, forgetting words--I'm worried I can't even be a Housemaiden anymore, and I don't want that. I love being a Housemaiden! It's all I've ever wanted."
"You will always be welcome in this House, Euphrasie. Never doubt that," Amandine says, and you grasp onto those words even if they're not quite enough. You want to be a Housemaiden still, you want to help others Change, you want to remember. The number of things you've forgotten of late makes you feel so hopelessly adrift. "We need to figure out what is causing the Change. That's the only way to address it properly. You might still be right that it's a temporary issue of stress, and I think a break from duties may be good for you. It may be a health issue, and I do hope you'll get a check up soon and let me know if there's any support you need from the House if the physician finds anything. I was also wondering if it might be…"
She's considering you uncertainly, and you feel a new wave of trepidation wash over you. "If it might be what?"
"I don't want to hurt you by asking," she says, immediately grimacing at herself. "Let me put it this way. You say you've only ever wanted to be a Housemaiden, but is that right?"
"…Yes?" you whisper.
"I don't mean to doubt you," she says, and you wait for her to continue because you don't know how that's supposed to be anything but doubt. "Euphrasie, I remember you being different from most Housemaidens because you made a major Change before formally becoming one. I remember you had a different name, and came from a different land, and converted from a different belief. But when I try to think of the details, I get the biggest crabbing headache." She smiles in an attempt at lightheartedness, but her brow is wrinkled with worry. "But I am getting older myself. Am I wrong? Were you always a Vaugardian, an adherent of Change?"
You open your mouth to say yes, of course you've always been, it's all you remember--
"Who were you before you came to this House?"
That's such an easy question, and you start over again to tell her.
And then you start again.
And again, and again, fresh tears spilling out of you as you start to tremble. Amandine squeezes your hand. "Forget I asked, Euphrasie. Please. Breathe. Please, I'm sorry--"
How can you forget? Now that you've glimpsed how vast and yawning the hole in your mind is, how can you forget? "I can't remember. I can't remember, I can't, oh Change, I'm broken--"
Amandine's hand leaves you briefly as she gets up from her chair and circles the desk to hug you. She has to bend down a little, with you still sitting, but not very far. She's on the shorter side, and you're rather tall. Why are you tall? You don't know. You don't know. You don't know why any part of you is the way it is. You grab onto her like you're drowning at sea.
She rubs a hand on your back, soothing, and waits for you to cry yourself out as if you're the child you can't remember ever being. The shoulder of her dress is thoroughly soaked by the time you run out of tears, still shuddering with horror. There's a headache raging through your skull. You slowly manage to open your arms and let her go, though you're relieved that she doesn't let go of you completely, keeping a steadying hand on one shoulder.
"I'm going to help you however I can," Amandine promises. "You started forgetting things about two months ago, didn't you?"
You have to think hard through the pounding headache, and your throat feels too dry to speak, but you manage a nod.
"That fits, then…Euphrasie, I think you're from the island that vanished two months ago."
#euphrasie#in stars and time#in stars and time spoilers#islander!euphrasie#STARTING THIS ANYWAY#I still gotta figure out what's going on with the people in the house
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"Moving Forward, Spiraling Downard Ch3- Try to Remember Them"
Good news, I was off work today which meant I could finish the chapter! Bad news, I was off because I had a fever </3 (if there are any spelling mistakes I will make sure to fix them in time LOL)
Summary: Now that Jas is getting old enough to have questions about her family, Shane decides to show her some old photos and films from years back. While the night starts off well enough, Shane will find he can't help but slip deeper into a bad habit that's been building for some time
TW for alcohol usage at the end of the chapter
AO3 Version here !
Tumblr Version below the cut! :
The conversation had started much earlier that day with Shane driving Jas home from preschool. Snow was starting to fall, decorations for the upcoming Winter Star celebrations decked all over the streets in the city. Shane was blasting some old 80's dad rock (the censored versions, for Jas' sake), mumbling along the lyrics, sipping from a cola in the cupholder. This ride home was one of the most peaceful events in their daily routine, and he loved it.
And while the thought of driving still made him anxious, even after all these years, he still found himself enjoying it. He'd not have to worry about work for the night, and Jas always had some entertaining stories to tell from school that day. Ever since the girl learned how to talk, she'd chatter on a mile a minute, having a surprisingly rich vocabulary for a nearly 4-year-old. She was so smart too, getting heaps of praise from her teachers every time he went to pick her up. He was so proud of her, and he knew his friends would've been too.
So when Jas got in the car that afternoon, quiet as a mouse, Shane instantly got the feeling something was off. By now she was usually already halfway through her first tale of the day, but not today. All she did was stare down at a little paper in her hands, not looking up or making a noise even once the entire ride. Shane kept checking the rearview mirror every chance he could, feeling his nervousness grow. Did something happen today? Was something in classes making her upset? Every possibility ran through his head.... Well, every possibility except for what was actually happening.
In her hands, Jas held an art project the kids were tasked with today. They'd been asked to draw their families, and she was so excited to work on it. She, ever the artist, was so proud of her piece. It was simple, just her, her Uncle Shane, and Aendi Marnie all standing together in a little field. She put so much effort into it, so much time and love! But when she proudly showed it to one of her friends, all they said was:
"Where's your mommy and daddy?"
And Jas didn't know how to answer that. Well… Uncle Shane was her dad… right? Her teacher said a dad takes care of you and loves you, and that's what he did. He did everything a dad was supposed to do. But that answer didn't exactly feel right. If he was her dad, where was her mom? And if he wasn’t , then where were either of her parents? Staring at the page in her hands, she couldn't help but wonder that something was missing from this story. Something was being left out, and she was going to find out what that was.
"Jas.... Jas.... Jassy .... Jasmyne Rose Anderson ."
The little girl's head finally shot up; eyes wide. Uncle Shane never used her full name unless she was in trouble. He didn't seem upset though, like the time she was running around the apartment and knocked over a table, shattering a special trophy of his. He seemed... Worried.
"You alright, chickadee?" He asked, brows furrowed, "Nothing happened at school today, did it?"
"No...."
"Then what's up? Usually you're a little chatterbox back there." He laughed a bit. Jas looked back down at her paper, and back to him, "Can I ask a question?"
"Anything, kiddo."
"Are you my dad?"
Shane hit the brakes a little harder than he intended to at the stoplight, causing Jas to yelp in surprise. Shiiit, he was not prepared for this conversation. He knew she'd have questions soon enough. It was inevitable. But no amount of preparation made him feel ready for this moment, especially while driving . Gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, he regained his composure just enough to answer her question.
"No, Jas, I'm not." His tone was solemn and soft, "I'm your uncle, remember? Uncle Shane?"
"Yeah but..." Jas furrowed her brow, "You act like a dad. And teacher says everyone has one."
"I know, I know... But there's different kinds of families, Jas. Not everyone has them, and that's okay! It's just different," he tried to explain, tsk-ing softly, "You... You did have them though, a mom and a dad, but-"
He was tripping on his words, not sure how to get this across in a way she could understand. She was so little still, and he had to handle this the right way now so he didn't have to deal with repercussions later. Jas didn't seem satisfied with the answer so far, still looking incredibly confused and lost.
"Where are they?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, "Are they coming back?"
"Yoba-dammit I can't do this." Shane thought to himself, hands still holding tight onto the steering wheel. This was such a bad time, the worst time for this kind of question. But he couldn’t just ignore it. He prayed that they would be home soon enough.
"No... They aren't. They're-" he stopped for just a moment, taking in a sharp breath. He tried to break it in the softest way he could, "They're dead, Jassy..."
"...Why?"
"I don't know, I wish I had the answer," Shane muttered, "Sometimes sad things happen and we just... Don't know why."
"Oh..." The girl's voice trailed off, "Okay..."
The air in the car was tense, Shane entirely certain he didn't handle that with the grace he needed to. He really should've thought this out ahead of time, made a plan to talk to her about this. He just thought he had more time. He kept looking back at her through the rearview mirror, worried about how she was taking it. Seeing a mostly neutral expression was... odd, concerning even. He really thought she'd be more upset at this.
"If you have any feelings about it, it's okay..." He assured, "If you feel sad or angry, I get it. I feel that way about it."
"I don't know," Jas shrugged, "I don't think I'm sad."
"Really? You don't miss them at all, anything?"
"I don't know 'em."
That realization hit Shane like a ton of bricks. He hadn't thought about that, that Jas would have been far too young to have memories of them. It made sense, she was barely even a year old at the time, but it still hurt to know. He thought back to his mom, about how few memories he had of her. Everytime he tried to think of her he could only picture Marnie in her place. He didn't remember what her voice sounded like either. It was all a blur to him. Was that what was happening with Jas? He didn't want her to grow up with no knowledge of Jason and Amelia, no memory of their faces or voices. He wanted her to have at least something. That's when he remembered a special box of mementos he kept up high in the closet, full of memories from back in their college days.
A small smile appeared on his face, "I think I know somethin' that will help you remember them."
"What is it?"
"You'll just have to wait till we're home to see!"
Back to the present, the two were sitting on the couch, dressed in their pajamas as they ate dinner and looked through memories. Multiple binders of old photos and memorabilia were laid out on the floor, open to some of the happiest snapshots of Shane and his friends' lives. Trips they went on, mundane little moments in their dorms or apartment, and all the memories that made life so enjoyable.
The TV was blasting, playing old reels the three of them made for their film class years ago. They were absolutely cheesy, and maybe even a bit cringy, Shane knew that much. But the three of them absolutely loved campy, low budget movies, so that was just fine with them. What was important was that the class had brought them all together and gave them some of their best memories.
As the last short film, a live action interpretation of Journey of the Prairie King, ended, Shane slipped yet another VHS into the player and sat back on the couch, giving Jas a grin, “This one’s funny, it’s all the takes we couldn’t use!”
“Why?”
“Oh you’ll see!” Shane laughed. The TV flickered to life, a little clapboard right in front of the camera.
“Okay this is… Yoba help me, this is take seventeen for the JojaMart commercial project.” a tired voice called out, “Let’s take this one seriously, guys, I’d like to be doing anything else.”
The board was removed, revealing Shane and Jason sitting at a table, dressed in fancy suits in front of a plain backdrop. Shane looked like he was using all of his effort to not start laughing, a devious look on Jason’s face. He had been purposefully going off script for an hour now to try and get Shane to break character and laugh and had succeeded every single time. Jason gave Amelia a cheesy grin, letting her know he was up to no good yet again, and leaned forward, starting his practiced spiel, “Join us and thrive! That’s our motto at JojaFart-”
Shane immediately burst into giggles, punching Jason playfully in the shoulder, “Screw you man, that one wasn’t even funny !”
“You’re laughing though!”
“Because it was stupid !”
“Still laughed!”
The two cackled on, Amelia’s voice from behind the camera being heard, “Can you two take anything seriously?” her voice warbled a bit, obviously trying to hold back her own laugh. Jason’s jokes were always corny and she was growing frustrated at how many takes they were at, but seeing those two laughing and carrying on never failed to get her to join in.
“Now you got her laughin’!” Shane motioned towards the camera, “The ice queen finally melts, huh?”
“Oh stop !” Amelia scolded playfully, “You two are so lucky I tolerate you.” she joked.
“C’mon you loooove me,” Jason batted his eyes exaggeratedly at her, feigning innocence. Amelia sighed wistfully, “I’d love you more if you did a serious take for once!”
“Okay, okay… I’ll do one serious take. I promise,”
“Thank you, honey,”
“Did he do it?” Jas questioned. Shane laughed and shook his head, “Oh no, we had to do ten more after that. Your mom was sooo mad, we never took anything seriously.”
The reel switched over to another scene. Jason was in a bandit costume, standing further away in the background, facing away from the camera. Amelia was dressed in a cheap western costume, adjusting her gloves as she waited for her cue. She caught a glimpse of Shane’s face, and gave him a suspicious look, “Oh you two did something stupid, didn’t you?”
“No! You worry too much, Ams,” It couldn’t be seen on the reel, but Shane had the biggest smirk sitting on his face.
Of course the two planned something, when did they not? Jason was the king of pulling pranks during their film sessions, much to Amelia’s chagrin. She was always the more serious one in their relationship. While Jason was off having fun with gridball and his classes, she was working herself to the bone trying to get her degree. And while that dedication was something both Jason and Shane admired, they knew she needed the chance to unwind and laugh every once in a while.
“Let’s get rollin’, you ready back there, Jay?” he called out, simply getting a thumbs up from his friend. Shane gave Amelia a nod, letting her know her cue was about to start. She nodded in return, holding up her prop rifle and pointing it towards Jason.
“I’ve got you right where I want you! Nowhere to turn!” Amelia sounded so believable, like she was made for the stage, “Turn around with your hands up!”
“Did you get me?” Jason started, forcing his voice into a deep southern drawl, “Or did I get you?” he turned around quickly, brandishing his own prop weapon… Or what was supposed to be his prop weapon. It looked cartoony, nothing like what they initially planned on. Amelia looked towards Shane, a confused look on her face, “Where the hell is his normal-”
She yelped as a shot of water hit her in the face, Jason laughing maniacally as he brandished his water gun high in the air, running towards the camera and shooting it all the while. Amelia ran offscreen, laughing herself as she tried to escape him.
“You ass , you two planned this didn’t you!” she laughed, covering her head.
“There’s another one on the table for you, Ams!”
Jason stopped in his tracks, giving an expression of mocked betrayal towards Shane, “That’s not fair, that wasn’t part of the plan!”
“Oh you deserve it!” Shane scoffed, pulling out his own and waving it in the air, “Better start runnin’,”
Jason ran off far into the background, followed close behind by Shane and Amelia, both holding their own water guns as they barreled towards him. The king of pranks was getting usurped by his primary targets, and he found it hilarious. The further away they got, the more the echo of their laughs boomed. The film session had devolved into absolute chaos, as it often did. Amelia couldn’t even pretend to be upset about it, having far too much fun with her two favorite people in the world to care about the take.
The next few scenes had both Shane and Jas in stitches. Between normal bloopers, or another elaborate scheme Jason cooked up to mess around during the shot, the two were in hysterics. And even though Shane and Amelia (mostly Amelia) could look annoyed with the stunts, they truly did enjoy it. Messing around like that was Jason’s love language, and it was how he showed he cared about them. Making those two laugh was one of his favorite things in the world, and it was so obvious with each and every outtake.
Even though he was laughing now, part of this made Shane’s heart break. Knowing he’d never get to do this again, never get to mess around with his best friends and get up to all sorts of trouble, it just made him miss it even more. He’d never get to hear Jason’s jokes, or Amelia’s laughing and playful scolding of the both of them ever again. He wasn’t religious anymore, not by any means, but for the moment he just let himself believe the two of them could be in a better place, a safe place. There, Jason was still running around and causing mayhem, Amelia being her sweet and loving self. And maybe, someday far in the future when he too was gone, he could see them again and get right back to their chaos. The thought put him at just a bit of ease, and for a moment he understood why so many people were religious in the first place.
Jas was absolutely loving the tapes, every second of them. Seeing just how fun and goofy the three of them were back in the day made her miss something she never even had. She could imagine herself playing pranks with her dad, getting up to no good together, and having fun. She could see herself with her mom, reading stories together and dressing up. They seemed so nice, so fun, and she wished so much that she could’ve known them. Having Uncle Shane and Aendi was great, and she loved them both, but knowing that she could’ve had them too just made her wish the circumstances were different. It was a difficult notion to grasp for someone her age, and she didn’t yet understand all the feelings she had about it. Maybe it was too complicated to understand for a long while. But in the moment, all she could do was laugh at the memories of what once was.
The last video on the tape began to play, a clapboard reading “Knights Promise” sitting in front of the screen. A look of recognition appeared on Shane’s face, “You’re gonna love this one, Jas,” he whispered.
The scene finally came into view. The camera was laid out to look upon a rocky shore. Amelia stood and waited in the background, dressed in a flowing gown and a fake tiara. Coily, purple hair was pulled back into a thick braid, tossed over her shoulder. Jas stared on with excitement in her eyes, “She’s a princess…” she whispered, voice filled with awe. A quiet conversation between Jason and Shane could be heard happening just behind the camera.
“I can’t do it, man, I’m nervous.”
“Jason, I swear to Yoba I’ve been helping you plan this for a month , if you don’t do it today, so help me- ”
“Alright! I’ll do it…”
“You got this, Jay.”
Jason emerged in front of the camera, dressed in some cheap knight costume. Amelia turned to look at him, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a mildly exasperated look, “Finally! We’re losing daylight, let’s get this scene done.”
“I know, I know, I just had to get somethin’ ready,” Jason stood in front of her, looking deep into Amelia’s eyes, “Yoba, you’re so pretty…”
“We’re rollin’!” Shane called out, giving them a thumbs up. The pair got into position, stepping up carefully onto the slippery rocks near the shore’s edge. They got themselves in character, preparing to film the finale scene for the film.
Jason took Amelia’s hand, the two looking at each other with longing, “I’ve been waiting for you, all this time…” she whispered, leaning in close. Jason cupped her cheek with one hand, wrapping another around her waist, “I needed to fulfill my promise, to my people... But now, I’ll fulfill mine to you.”
He pulled away from her grasp, fumbling for something in his pocket. Amelia frowned and whispered, “Jay, this isn’t in the script, what are you doing?” He gave her a big, toothy grin, “Something I’ve been waiting to do for a long time.”
Getting down carefully onto one knee, he pulled a little box from his pocket. Opening it, a glimmer of light hit the ring inside, making it sparkle in front of the camera. Jason smiled softly up towards his girlfriend, “Amelia May, will you-”
Amelia immediately clapped her hands to her mouth, eyes wide in excitement, “No way!” she exclaimed, in complete disbelief. Jason’s face fell, looking like a kicked puppy for just a moment, lowering down the ring box. He didn’t expect her to say no, especially that fast.
“No no, I meant yes!” Amelia laughed, kneeling down with him, “I will! I will marry you! I just didn’t expect that!”
“Really?!” Jason’s smile returned, eyes scrunching at the corners. Amelia nodded fast, happy tears biting at the corners of her eyes. She pulled him in close by the face, smashing her lips into his. He held her tight, the two laughing softly and exchanging little “I love you's” back and forth. The sun was setting behind him, the golden hour for filming this scene quickly passing, but the two of them didn’t care. You could see in their faces just how much they were enthralled in this moment. The take could wait, this moment needed to be savored.
“Hell yeaaah !” Shane screeched from behind the camera, knocking it over in the sand as he ran to them. Even with the device on its side, you could still make out him tackling them in a hug, the trio laughing and chattering away in their excitement. A low beep could be heard, the battery running low on the camera. Moments later, the feed cut out, leaving the screen dark.
Jas smiled wide, feeling so happy seeing just how in love they were. It reminded her of all those princess movies she loved so much, with those happy fairytale wedding endings. She looked up to see Shane sniffling, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, “Are you said’?” she asked.
“No, no…” he sniffed, giving her a smile, “It was really nice seeing that again.”
“Can we watch more?” Jas asked, clasping her hands together, “Pleaaaase?”
“I don’t know, it’s too close to bedtime, kid,”
“ Pleaasee! ” Jas gave him a pouty expression, one that always seemed to get him to reconsider. But tonight was different. Shane stood firm in his decision and shook his head, “You know we have to leave early tomorrow to go to aendi’s.”
“Whyyyyy,” Jas complained, throwing her head back dramatically.
“Because she wants us over for Winter Star, and I know you’re excited for that,” Shane explained, standing and motioning for Jas to follow, “Come on, we’ll watch more later.”
“Promise?”
“I promise .”
Reluctantly, Jas slipped off the couch, making her way towards her bed that sat against the wall. Piled high with stuffed animals, and decorated with fancy pillows and blankets, a “canopy” hanging above it (made from pink curtains and fairylights Shane had merely thumb-tacked into the ceiling). It wasn’t much, but Jas insisted it made her feel just like a princess. Shuffling under the covers, she made one last pout, trying to make Shane feel bad for the crime of being a responsible parent that made sure she went to bed at a proper time.
“Come on Jassy, you know if I let you stay up you’ll be cranky all day tomorrow,” Shane tsked as he got her tucked in, “Did you like the movies, though?”
She gave him a sleepy smile, “Mm-hm…dad was funny…”
“He was! He was the funniest guy I knew,”
“Do you miss ‘em?”
Shane took a deep breath and nodded, “Everyday, Jas. I really wish you could have known them,”
“Yeah…” Jas mumbled, “You’re funny too… I’m happy you’re my uncle.”
“So am I,” Shane smiled softly, “Let’s get to sleep though, okay? Biiiig day tomorrow.”
“Not even sleepy…” she mumbled, yawning immediately after. Shane shook his head, “Mm-hmm, sounds like you’re wide awake there,”
“Yup…” Jas retorted, barely able to keep her eyes open, “Wiiiide awake,”
She fell asleep almost instantly unable to stay awake a moment longer. As much as she would protest bedtime, she’d always be lights out in minutes without fail. Shane turned off the lamp next to her, whispering softly, “Night, Jassy,”
With the apartment now sitting in the dark, the smile he had been forcing onto his face all day vanished. He sighed deeply, holding his head in his hands. Between keeping a customer service attitude for work, and staying strong for Jas, he was exhausted by the day’s end. The soul crushing bitterness he felt had no buffer anymore, feeling free to just overtake him now that there wasn’t anyone awake or around to see him. Every day was a struggle, forcing him to bottle up his fears and frustrations for the greater good. He couldn’t mask how he was feeling anymore, and he didn’t want to. Lifting himself up from the floor, he drug himself to the kitchen, pulling a new six pack from the fridge.
The bitter taste of beer almost made him gag, but he forced it down. As awful as the cheap stuff tasted, it was one thing that helped quiet down his mind when there wasn’t a readily available distraction. Before all this he’d normally watch some crappy reality tv, or blast some music to keep his mind busy, but that wasn’t possible anymore. He was left just in silence, him and the can in his hand.
Leaning against the counter, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wouldn’t let this become a habit; he couldn’t let this become a habit. When they were in college, Jason talked at length about his fathers drinking habits, how he became a moping, pathetic man the moment he could get a bottle in his hand. It was miserable, and made Jason feel so incredibly lonely and sad when he was growing up. He hated it, and rarely drank because of it. Shane didn’t want to become that kind of man, not when he had Jas to worry about. He promised himself he’d never get to that point, that he’d never make Jas feel miserable because of his own habits. Every time he pulled that can towards his lips, he could just envision Jason’s face as he talked about those experiences, and just felt a little bit worse. But he wasn’t going to be like that, he knew his limits, he knew when to quit. He’d just have one more , and head to sleep.
That’s what he’d been telling himself just about every night for months now; just one more. It was just a small part of his routine; it wasn’t a problem… was it? He didn’t even want to entertain the idea of having one. He was fine, he would be fine , he just needed a bit of extra help at the end of the day. Plenty of people did the same and functioned just fine, right? He’d been finding every possible way to rationalize it since he started. But it was progressively getting worse, as much as he wouldn’t admit it. First it was just one drink occasionally, then one can a night, then two, then three. He promised himself he’d stop here, just like he promised himself at every other stage. He was stupid to believe himself, but he chose to anyway. He finished a fourth can and tossed it into the recycling, feeling the miserable feeling in his heart grow just a bit more numb.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room, wincing at the sight. Oh, he was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so tired and unkempt, his hair choppy, once bright eyes dull. The man that was once so happy and full of life was replaced with this… husk, and it was getting harder to keep up this charade that he was doing fine.
Lumbering off to the couch, he grabbed a pillow and blanket and curled up as much as he could. It was far too small for his stocky frame to lay upon comfortably, but he made do. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept on a proper bed. The apartment wasn’t large enough to accommodate two of them, and there was no way in hell he was affording a larger one, so he had given up that privilege for Jas’ sake. He tried not to be bitter about it though. Sacrifices had to be made for family sometimes, that much he accepted long ago.
And who knew, maybe someday soon he’d get some big break. Maybe he’d win the lottery, and they could actually move into a nice, big house and never have to worry about money or anything ever again. He could pay off his looming debts, get Jas into a good school and good college someday, maybe help fund the ranch so Marnie could afford to have help on it again. Ah, the “if only”’s. His ambitions for the future were big but felt so unobtainable in this tiny little space.
The exhaustion of the day and growing buzz from the drinks he just downed drew him into the comforting arms of sleep. The last thing he saw was the screen on the TV, a beautiful image of him, Jason, and Amelia all together, happy as could be. They were all so innocent, so clueless of what would befall them in just two years time as they chattered away. Shane envied it, the obliviousness of his younger self.
His eyes glossed over as he listened to the hushed volume of the tv, hearing just one last conversation the trio had on the outtake reel. Jason was being silly as always, putting two straws in his mouth to look like tusks, acting wild in an attempt to get the other two to laugh.
“You are such a dork .” Amelia laughed, zooming the camera in on him and Shane, “ Both of you are dorks.”
“Well if you’re hanging out with us that makes you one too,” Shane retorted, a big ole’ smirk on his face.
Jason pulled the straws from his mouth, leaning over to give Amelia a kiss on the cheek, “My favorite dork.” She giggled in response, kissing him right back, “And you’re mine,”
“Wow, ouch,” Shane joked, feigning disappointment, “It’s like you two don’t even like me, anymore!” his voice was dripping with playful sarcasm.
“Oh, hush,” Jason punched his shoulder playfully, getting a laugh from Shane, who kept the bit going, “Nope, you two made your choice, guess I’m alone now,”
Jason rolled his eyes and smiled, “Come on, you know we’ll always be here for you, man,”
Oh, how Shane wished that was true.
#stardew valley#sdv#sdv fanfiction#stardew valley fanfiction#fanfic#sdv shane#stardew valley shane#sdv jas
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I remember watching volume 1 of rwby and knowing something was going to happen to pyrrha. Either a villain arc, or she'd be killed. She had some kind of flag over her that was too big to ignore and everyone I'd met I'd tell my theory.
So when she died in volume 3 while I was happy to be right about something, it also meant that people who were unsatisfied with her handling also had merit to their feelings. Because Pyrrha was made too perfect. She wasn't allowed to have flaws until the episodes right before she dies and even then her only flaw was how ready she was to shoulder every burden. She was crafted to be loved and missed when she was gone and they didn't think of her outside that.
And this isn't to say she shouldn't die, her death is incredibly important, but her treatment throughout volumes 1-3 don't do the best job in showcasing that. We as the audience know she's a big deal. We've been told it since her first appearance. She's always winning fights and perfectly landing shots. She fumbles sometimes bit overall is clearly as skilled as she's intended to be. Her polarity makes her untouchable to most.
But they didn't push far enough with her and that's to their detriment. They wanted so bad for Jaune to be a 0-hero that they didn't actually think about a way to do it that would benefit both him and Pyrrha as characters.
Make her the leader of team JNPR if she's so incredibly talented, have the teachers and school itself laud her as someone for her peers to look up to and rivals to look out for. Put her on a pedestal that causes her to be so divisive in the student body that we are just as likely to find someone challenging her as we are to see those admiring her. Make it so we can't escape her. Have everyone buzzing during the tournament about watching her and her team fight because it's not every day you get to watch the rise of a living legend. Let her teach Jaune but still allow him to have his moments as a character outside of her.
Everyone we meet should know her name to some extent, and I beg that we let her be flawed beyond being sacrificial. Them constantly having her hover following her death is good, but she needs to hover more. If pyrrha's death is the one that changes everything, we needed her to be inescapable before we had the chance to miss her.
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Mirrorverse Crossover- Zoé
Princess Zoé of the Southern Isles was strangely looking forward to meeting her alternate self. Who knows? Maybe a few jabs at Chloéstasia's past abuse and tearfully bringing up her own dreadful siblings will strike up a little discord amongst those heroes. Perhaps she can cause another argument between Aladdix and the good version of her sister.
Fixing her face, she enters the room with a regal grace- not just due to years of training by her etiquette teachers, but to show this rag-dressed maid who had the upper hand here.. Just looking at her makes her want to recoil. Those innocent blue eyes and that smattering of dust on her clothes are sickening. But, part of being royalty (No matter how far away you are from being in line for the throne) is keeping up appearances. She sits at the table and arches an eyebrow. As expected, the other blonde quickly brushes off some of the dirt on her shirt.
"I have to say, this is a pleasant surprise," the Princess chirps. "The heroic version of me is... Well, a maid." She laughs, and CinderZoé gives a wry smile in response. "No shame in that, dear. They're hard workers, a working-class often looked down on. Truly, I could never do what you do."
"I can imagine," CinderZoé says, his eyes darting to the side. "But, I'm not actually a maid; I-I was just forced into the role-"
Princess Zoé interrupts, "Oh, yes, I remember, by your dreadful sister." Paying no mind to the hero's narrowed eyes, they continue, "I know a thing or two about sisters. Well, twelve things, really if you catch my drift."
"... Y-you have twelve sisters?!"
'Got her.' "Yeah," he chuckles with a fond expression to mask his hateful scowl. "I was never alone when mother and father were off tending to their duties... Though, being the youngest, I'm sort of the runt, and they got a kick out of reminding me. I remember once when I was five, three of them pretended that I didn't exist for two years." He bursts into laughter and goes so far as to slap his hand against the table. Across from him, Cinder Zoé looks aghast.
Her mouth opens and closes a few times, and Princess Zoé is certain she wants to scream some sort of profanity. "That's horrible!"
"Well, it's just what sisters do," Princess Zoé merely replies. "Why, it still goes on to this day. Just a few weeks before I attended DuPont, my five eldest sisters thought it would be funny to tie the tablecloth to the loops of my trousers during a political meeting. So, when I got up to walk away, documents ended up drenched in wine!" He laughs again, trying to keep up the facade and not show his rage. His parents were furious that day, humiliated in front of dozens of dignitaries, and locked him in his room for two days.
CinderZoé gapes. Sure, Chloé was... Well, she wasn't great, but her sisters just sound awful.
"And of course, father reprimanded me for being an 'idiotic embarrassment to the family name,'" she continues, using finger quotes. "I'm pretty sure the old man despised me; he hates weakness, and sees being the youngest as being weak."
"But that-"
"Doesn't make sense? Well, it's just the way some families are. We literally had to fight for even just a bit of his love, dear." Princess Zoé holds her finger and thumb close together. "I guess I just wasn't strong enough for him." She doesn't even need to fake the single tear streaming down her face. Seething through her teeth, she turns to Zoé. "I've been talking too much, haven't I? I believe you mentioned something about your Chloé? So, out with it." Chin resting in her hands, she leans over the table a bit. "What was the worst thing she's ever done to you?"
👠👑
"I can't be the only one hearing this!" Adriunzel shouts. "Does anyone else hear what she's doing right now?!" Jafardrien, still traumatized from his encounter with the seemingly sweet prince, slinks away into a corner of the room.
"Love, try to stay calm," Kagamerida says and rests a hand on his shoulder. "She only wants to rile us up." She glances over at Aladdix. The pinkette is sitting on a desk, looking anywhere but at the bubble and Chloéstasia who's keeping to herself in another corner of the room.
The blonde takes a deep breath, looking much calmer, but it's a little eerie. "I'm calm... I'd just like to talk to her."
"Nope," Marilan quickly says and pulls him away from the bubble. "That's enough of that. Let's go, sweetie."
"I only want to talk to her."
"I know how that talk is going to go."
"As if you could take her," they hear, and turn their attention to the sheep hybrid, drinking coffee from a thermos no one knows where she got it from.
Seeing them staring, they jump a bit, looking nervous as they readjust their glasses. "S-sorry. Thinking out loud again," Cosette Bellwether giggles. "I'm just saying, my insanely gorgeous girlfriend," she continues, making sure to look right at Robette when she says that. "Could easily do some damage. She always keeps a sword somewhere on her person, and well, you're not the only one with years of pent-up frustrations due to a- pardon my language- shit parent, hon. And twelve abusive sisters? She's gotta take all of that rage out on someone, you know? Like... Oh, I don't know the first person to attack her, hon."
They laugh, but it does nothing to diminish the malicious glint in their eyes.
"That is one creepy sheep," Kimules whispers to Ariondine.
Robette gets up from their seat and approaches their villainous counterpart. "Was that a threat, hon?"
"Oh! No, no, of course not... Just a warning," it says ominously. Cosette Bellwether looks its' counterpart up and down, taking note of the 90s aesthetic she has going on. "Cute shoes!" It grins and goes back to watching the bubble.
👠👑
CinderZoé slams their fist down on the table. "Chloé is getting better! She doesn't deny the shit she's done, unlike your bleached, walking one-dimensional prissy bitch of a sister!"
"Oh, please," Princess Zoé scoffs. "You think she's truly remorseful? Newsflash, little miss gold digger-"
"Shut. Up." She loathes that name. It's been in the tabloids ever since she and Robette started dating. The insane fans screamed that she didn't deserve the singer, that she was only after their money and influence so she could finally stop working as a scullery maid. She's been called every name in the book, but Gold Digger just really ignites something.
Princess Zoé continues, "Once a villain, always a villain. You think Marinette will wake up one day and just think, 'Oh, what am I doing with my life? I should make faux fur fashion!'" He mocks in a high-pitched voice. "Or that Nathaniel will stop cutting heads off-" He snaps his fingers. "Like that? Or that Kim will stop being a meat-headed knuckle-dragging misogynist bastard? No. Because that is who they are. That is who they will always be. So, face facts."
The room seems to grow colder as Princess Zoé approaches the other blonde and whispers to her, "If only there was a sister out there who actually loved you." They pay no mind to the way CinderZoé's pupils seem to vibrate, turn on their heels, and head for the door. However, before their hand can even graze the handle, the Princess feels a sharp pain in her shoulder. They turn pale when they see CinderZoé right behind them gripping their shoulder tightly.
They didn't even hear her footsteps.
"You fucking bitch."
👠👑
"ZOÉ! Babe, don't do anything you'll regret!" Robette shouts from the other side of the locked door. When trying to force the knob to turn doesn't work, they resort to another tactic. Being a famous pop star, Robette has to learn some self-defense in case of the more rabid fans. This one time, one of Erin's fans snuck into their dressing room and locked the door. It was a miracle security broke the door down before anything really bad could happen.
After that day, the five band members learned how to kick a locked door open.
The moment its' foot connects, the door bursts open, and Robette and Cosette Bellwether see CinderZoé putting the Princess of the Southern Isles in a headlock. "ZoZo, come on, let go of her!" Seeing the sheep-hybrid reaching for pepper spray in her blazer pocket, it snatches it and tosses it out of the door. "Don't even think about it!"
Robette carefully pries CinderZoé off of the other blonde, and Cosette Bellwether helps her girlfriend out of the room before shutting the door. "Babe, focus on me, okay? She's gone."
"She's get- she's getting better," CinderZoé stammers. She tears her nails through her hair, skewing her beanie.
"I know she is," Robette whispers and carefully pulls CinderZoé's hands away from her head before she can scratch her scalp. "Can you focus on my voice for a bit? Just forget everything she said, alright? You're never not on my mind, oh my, oh my," it begins singing. "I'm never not by your side, your side, your side. I'm never gon' let you cry, oh, cry, don't cry. I'll never not be your ride or die, alright."
After a few more verses, CinderZoé looks at Robette and smiles. "Love you, RoRo," he whispers.
"Love you more, ZoZo." It interlocks their fingers before kissing CinderZoé. Realizing the others can still see them, Robette takes off their jacket and throws it over the bubble.
👠👑
"Bested by some gutter girl," Princess Zoé hisses as Cosette Bellwether fixes her braid. "God, if my sisters were here-"
"Forget them," her girlfriend whispers, their 'skittish secretary' persona long gone. "They're about as useless as all the damn heroes in this lousy universe. But, you won't have to worry about those brats ever again." They immediately blush when the blonde kisses their hand. "Now, what's say you and I have a little fun of our own, hm?" They reach into the inner pocket of their blazer and pull out a small vial filled with a blue liquid.
"Is that-"
"Sure is. Just a drop of this stuff in a hybrid's food and hello savagery," they cackle and the princess can't help but look at her with admiration in their eyes.
@imsparky2002 @msweebyness
#hans of the southern isles#cinderella#frozen#Zoé Lee#Class of heroes#Class of villainy#Disney au#Disney#Disney heroes#Disney villains#MLB oc#mirrorverse
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Last Twilight ภาพนายไม่เคยลืม Ep 2
I apologise in advance for inconsistent name romanisations, I TRY to remember what the official ones are for names I've seen but I also watched this without subs so all new names are a guessing game, and the EXISTING ones aren't consistent within the show, so. idk. I had a point. Reaction log!
is that his technical college/vocational school shirt?
"hunger is the best spice!" can I say Y I K E S
oh, she's a chef?
ooof the music when he asked about the dad
that's like. almost twice a foreign high-school teacher's salary.
asdfasdf Night
oh so Night is using Day's caretaker as his personal … idk, help? too? that'll be the source of zero conflict, I'm sure :grimacing:
แค่ดูแบดๆ อะ THANKS FOR THE SONG STUCK IN MY HEAD NOW, NIGHT
(I'm going to have to comment of how much I love seeing Mark as a member of the main, not just recurring, cast for at least another two episodes. He'll get a lead role eventually.)
oh that looks like he's likely to run into it and make it spill though
>_> awww little prince + badminton? wonder who made that painting
I'd say don't stick your hand in there but that water looks like it BADLY needs changing/cleaning anyway
oof impressive
kinda weird to wander around the room while Day's asleep, think, but -- asdfadsfasd the PLANT
I really love how we get to see Jimmy just act here. NO speaking, we just get to see Mawk Mhok move in space. I love that
ow Mhok you don't just move people's stuff around without their consent
I love Phawjai (also fuck this she's Phawjai and he's Mawk, or she's Porjai and he's Mork, it's the same fucking vowel what in the romanisation hell)
asdfasdf he's such a LOSER I love him
omg Jimmy's skin ACTUALLY looking like a real person's right now? whoa
hey maybe you could ask Day to open the door for you
Onn … heh
adsfasdfasd they're so silly I love it
I like what they're doing with the eyework in the scenes with Onn and Day
YAY assistive technology
I love that that doesn't even seem to have occurred to Mhok here
and I think Mhok is just getting that Omm is not judging him on his looks
yep here we are
adsfasdf I love that Onn told Mhok
I'd just go, honestly, but I love that Mhok seems to think it's a challenge
oh, that's the little prince audiobook?
the music now that he's dropped the eye drops (hah) is like something out of a horror movie
he's gonna have to call for help
asdfasdfadsf oh Mhok that's gonna come to bite you in the ass, it's not your SHIRT that smells
dfasdfsdfsdfadsf oh dear
Mhok you can't just do that just 'cause he can't see
asdfadsf he Khun Nuu'd him
I TOLD YOU THAT TANK NEEDED CLEANING and also all that knocking must've been stressful af for the fish, just saying
Jasmine!
oh that looks good
asdfdsfd the comic timing on "what are you afraid of" here was GOLDEN
horror movies, oh no
well shit
are you telling me they didn't even tell anyone he was in Thailand? what the actual fuck, Day's family
harsh, Day
look this kind of sitch is probably sorta not cool for Mhok
oh fuck poor Phawjai (also: called it)
yeah
oop this is gonna backfire so hard
yeep
oh shit there it is
oh, there's a part 5 for those horror movies?
BUT Day's down in the living room again, I notice
Phawjai, you absolute star
GOLDFISH SLIPPERS omg
oh you'll leave the house with HER
Mhok trying to put himself in Day's shoes, huh. not sure if smart or offensive, but at least he's trying, I guess, which is more than we can say for most folks we've seen around Day so far?
Mhok's "fart proudly - stand behind me" shirt is taking me OUT
yeah, that makes sense
Day, wtf, that's so dangerous, I'm sure you've been on a scooter in Bangkok traffic when you could still see! you must know you can't tell for sure there'll be room for you to do that left and right of you!
a friend for the fish, huh, let's hope they don't kill each other
I hate to be this person but how often, exactly, are you supposed to use these eye drops, Day? I mean I guess his eyesight is going anyway, but …
I'm really enjoying the show so far. Solid. P'Aof material is being P'Aof material and I'm really enjoying that.
#last twilight the series#last twilight#ภาพนายไม่เคยลืม#last twilight ep 2#bl watch liveblog#my nonsense
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My Realization of Self and God
I never thought much of my spirituality and how it affected the people around me. Especially my family, relatives and friends. I always thought it was strictly between myself and God. Growing up as a young boy no one ever called me a name,nor degraded me in any way because of my "religion" or my "religious practices." I never had to defend myself against harsh religious comments. I can't say that during our younger years, we all "respected" each other's religion. Sixth grade and below, we didn't really understand things such as respect and religion; Seventh grade and above, guys were more interested in girls and cars and girls were more interested in guys and their cars. Religion just wasn't one of the personal characteristics we were interested in. As an adult however, it seams to be just the opposite. Religion and the religious practices of a person are very important to that person's family and friends. Sometimes a change in a person's religion or religious practices causes such an outrage in that person's family that the person becomes ostracized from his or her family.
My "spirituality" has become a concern of some in my immediate family. My beliefs and spiritual life is not the same as it was when I left home at the age of 18 after enlisting in the Navy. Words such as "idol worshiper" and "Mary worshiper" have been used by those who I hold in very high esteem. My core values (which I will explain later) have been strained, but they do remain in tact. I respect everyone and their view of what I have become, even if I don't agree with their assessment. when I was very young, patience was one of the things I lacked and a temper was something I had in abundance. Today I have an abundance of patients and the strength and guidance from God to use it wisely against the temper I once had. So, bring on your judgments of me and my wife but also know that I leave judgment to God. I will continue to live the religious practices, traditions and spiritual mannerisms I have learned from the Catholic Church, prayer and research. I leave it to the Lord to defend His religious practices, traditions and spiritual mannerisms as they are lived out in my life.
Some might say I "converted" to Catholicism but, no, I think I grew into it. It took a lot of thinking, soul-searching, research, looking back and looking forward, trying to see how God and spirituality fit into my life. It did not happen "overnight" or even over a decade.
I was born into a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant world - Baptist to be precise. The first church I remember attending is Donald Smith Memorial Baptist Church in Oaklawn, Illinois. It was kinda-sorta behind our house. It was a rectangular two-story building. The first floor was for "Sunday School" for the kids, the second floor was the main chapel. It was just pews, pulpit and a large head and shoulder portrait of Jesus above the choir loft behind the pulpit. I even remember Mrs. Cunningham who was both my first grade public school teacher and my Sunday School teacher. She would seek out my Mom every Sunday morning <sigh> I couldn't get away with anything that year. I was too young then to really understand who God was and what he did.
After 5th grade, my family moved to New Lenox Illinois. We started going to Ridgewood Baptist Church in Joliet. I don't remember too much about it. If my memory serves me correctly, both of my sisters, at one time or another, worked in the Church Office. it was another rectangular building with pews and a pulpit, with no pictures, statues or any other artwork. It didn't leave much of an impression on me. I don't know, I was still young then. After a couple of years, my parents started going to the First Baptist Church of New Lenox. It was very small. Again, it was another rectangular building with pews and a pulpit, no pictures, statues or any other artwork. I don't remember much about it either. I was baptized into that church when I turned 18 and was on my way into the military. I think it was more of me "covering all my bases" than a real commitment. I was a senior in high-school, I didn't want to commit to anything. I had just joined the Navy because I didn't want to be drafted. At that time, most draftees were being sent to Vietnam.
The military had all kinds of "chaplains" ironically, the only ones I met were Catholic Chaplains. It's "ironic" because my record clearly stated that I was Protestant.
My first ship, the USS Oriskany took me all over the Pacific and Indian oceans. Everywhere we went there was always a Catholic Church and the Catholic Chaplain always made it a point to invite me to "tour" the Church with him. Many of them were very old and very elaborate with sculptures, paintings and stained glass. Many people have what I will call an "uneducated view" of the religious sculptures, paintings and other artworks. The artwork in a Catholic Church comes from a time when most people could not read or write. Many of the great Masters could not read, but they wanted to glorify God. They did so through their artwork. What I see in especially the old Churches is the Bible in pictures and sculptures. Michelangelo, painter of the Sistine Chapel, creator of many statues - most notably, "David", architect of St. Peter's Dome, and much more, could not read or write; but he could praise God and preach the Gospel through his hands, to others who like him, could not read the scriptures but they could "read" his sculptures and paintings. It's the God that the artwork portrays that is being worshiped, not the artwork nor the artist.
Is it wrong to sit down and gaze upon a picture of someone long past, say, a parent? Someone you might have loved very much, and yearn for them to come back? Is it wrong to look at that picture and talk to that person as if he or she was there with you and tell him or her how much you miss him or her? Is it wrong for you to believe the person in that picture is in Heaven looking after you? Is it wrong to ask the person in the picture for help and believe that he or she is praying with you to God for an answer? Is it wrong to go to the grave-site of someone you love and discuss a problem with them? Is it wrong to ask that loved one to help you pray or to pray with you to God?
Through the Catholic Church, architecture and art, I have come to know and believe in two families; my earthly one, consisting of my parents and sisters, and my spiritual family, consisting of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Pictures of my earthly family come from cameras, pictures of my spiritual family were made by the Masters. Both are made by humans.
The Rosary - nothing seems to say Catholic more than the Rosary. I've heard many say that it isn't found in the Bible. That's true, very true, the Rosary is in fact not found in any Bible. But, the Bible is in fact in the Rosary. Again, artwork created for those who could not read or write. The Rosary through it’s mysteries, contain the New Testament, from the birth of Jesus to his death, resurrection and beyond. I use it every day as an aid in prayer, it helps to "make the world around me go away", so that I can speak and listen more reverently and clearly to God. If non-Catholics would just listen to the words or read the Rosary, especially the last sentence of the "Hail Mary," they would know that we are not praying to Mary or anyone else, we are in-fact praying only to God.
My commitment to God and to religion did not happen over night. It happened over many years of searching self and soul; searching the earthly world and the spiritual world; searching various religions, cultures and ways of life. I have called on St. Peter, St. Paul and a few other saints who were once as human as I am now, in just the same way I still call on my Dad and Mom for advice. Catholicism as I know it, is not a religion, it's a way of life. A way of life defined not by anything earthly, but by a God that is open to everyone, a God who is compassionate but demanding unquestioned faith and belief.
The self and soul search goes on, the earthly world tries to pull me in one direction, the spiritual world tries to pull me in another direction. I put no boundaries between worlds, I try my best not to judge anyone in either world. I do my best to leave judgment to God.
It doesn't matter what we label ourselves as, Protestant, Catholic, Jehovah Witness, Methodist, ... What matters, to God, is how we live. Do we follow Jesus and his disciples? Or do we judge each other on how we go about our daily lives, how we as individuals worship, or how we as individuals interpret individual passages in the Bible? Do we throw away the Bible and peck at each other over "our" individual interpretation of individual passages of a very large book?
God made us all different, maybe we should accept the differences and accept each other as brothers and sisters the way Jesus accepted his disciples and all those who believed and had faith in him. "Catholic" is only a label, how and what I believe and have faith in along with how I worship is my way of life. It is between me and God and wrong for me to judge others on their way of life.
Lastly, through my research, Catholicism teaches me that I should not only "love" all of humanity, but that I should also respect everyone's race, age, sex, career, culture, customs, traditions, character, religion and their points of view. Essentially, as a Catholic, I should respect every aspect of every person's life. It is OK to respectfully disagree with someone but wrong to disrespect them or any part of their being. So, bring on your criticisms of my religious practices. I'll just pass them on to the Lord and let Him deal with them.
#catholic faith#catholic#catholic life#catholic church#catholic tradition#mother mary#our lady#family prayer#catholic saints
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"I've loved you three summers now, but I want them all." | Aori X Fatgum
Merry Christmas @kankuroplease / @xxcinnaxx <3 Thank you so much for your friendship, your insight into art, the fact that we can rant about anything, create Au's about everything and your wonderful oc's . I feel very lucky to have befriended you and everytime you puplish one of those amazing artworks you do I can't believe it. Earlier this year we art collabed and I had a lot of fun and I also learned quite a bit from that, so thank you!! I really enjoyed building up the BNHA AU with you and the others this year too, so I hope you like this little present.
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Fatgum x OC
Post War, I have no idea how bnha ends so I was rather vague LOL
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When he came to, he could hear a woman crying. It wasn’t loud and wailing, it was silent, as if every sob was causing her too much pain to even make a sound. It took him a moment to place the voice, his mind still foggy from sleep and medication.
Taishiro had no idea how long he’d been asleep, but by the sound of Aori crying, it had been a while. Everything was still spinning inside, but he needed to show her that he was alright and well and though his insides still felt like they were aching, there was no pain.
“Aori,” he said in a half cough, his voice sounding thinner in the air than in his head. In case she hadn’t heard he wanted to repeat her name again, but he could already hear her suck in air in surprise and then he felt her grasp for his hand.
“Honey,” she said silently, as if loud noise would startle him too much. Taishiro pressed her hand and realised how small his was in comparison to hers. He must be thinner than he’d ever been.
He forced his eyes open and it took him a moment to adjust to the light around him. There was an evening sun shining in through the windows. Taishiro blinked. What hospital had they brought him to, he wondered, vaguely remembering that most structures by a wide margin had been completely blown up.
Aori’s hair was shining light blue in the sun, her back was illuminated by it, as if she was an angel waiting to welcome him back to the world of the living. There were tears in her eyes still, her cheeks sunken in as if she hadn’t eaten anything for a while. He never liked when she wasn’t eating right, not even if it was because she was so busy making sure he was eating right.
“I’m home,” he said in the absence of anything else to say. “Hungry,” he added, but didn’t dare look down on his body. There was no time right now to assess how much fat he had lost. He could already tell that it was a lot.
“I have muffins for you,” Aori said and reached into her bag. “I brought fresh ones everyday for this occasion. I knew you’d be hungry.” She opened the bag next to her and then ripped a part of the muffin off so she could feed it to him. Taishiro ate diligently as she fed him. How many times had she gone and bought a new set? How many had she thrown away? He felt guilty of making her worry so much.
He kept the left hand tightly around hers as he ate, pressing down on her soft skin as if to remind her and himself that he had indeed survived. “I must have caused you so much grief,” he said finally. “I’m very sorry.”
Aori let out a deep breath. “It wasn’t the first time you were fighting and it won’t be the last. I have always been prepared to see you like this. Still, it doesn’t get easier…” Her voice trailed off in the end, but she caught herself again. “This is the profession you have chosen and I would never want to take it away from you. I wish it were a less dangerous profession, but it is out of my hands.”
People who said that pro-heroes had the strongest mentality in the country surely had not met kindergarten teachers, Taishiro thought and a smile appeared on his face. “Nevertheless, I’m very sorry.”
When he’d been small, there had been nobody of his stature and definitely no one of his condition in the pro-hero circuit. They were all outstandingly strong, smart or good looking men, that Taishiro himself could never identify with, even with his above average grades. He took it upon himself to change that, to show that really everyone could be a hero, even if his parents had reminded him that this was a dangerous career to pursue. He had never really thought about his own death and the ramifications, not until he met Aori.
Suddenly he was thinking about the future more than the past, about a time when he wasn’t incredibly busy with his agency and training young people. Maybe he could have a little break time, a family, a house, such things that seemed for old people. There was nothing he would give his job up for, not completely, but other things he didn’t mind adding - as long as he survived long enough.
This had definitely been the most difficult fight he’d ever had in his career and he remembered that before his eyes went black he’d thought of Aori’s smile and how he’d promised that he would come back no matter what. Maybe that had kept him alive even then.
“When I saw the destruction,” she said bitterly. “I was thinking you might not be making it back to me. I tried to stealth myself for the possibility that you, my sister, the kids - any and all of you might not make it. But then you were here and I got so excited thinking that maybe I was wrong after all.” She sighed. “When you didn’t wake for 4 weeks and I had to watch you get smaller and smaller I thought that maybe I had celebrated too early…”
Taishiro laughed a little: “As if any amount of evil entity could keep me from getting back to you and eating your tasty pastries. Nobody could ever hold me back from that.”
And miraculously, Aori laughed too, pressing his hand again. “I will make sure you get nothing but that if you get out of here.”
“I can’t wait for that. Maybe some of Katsura’s famous cookies too.” He felt hungry just thinking about it. “I know I am just in your way when you cook and use 6 arms to work at the same time, but I have to insist once again that since it is food for me I should be at least helping-”
“You were involved in saving this country,” Aori furrowed a brow. “You don’t have to do anything for a long time.”
“Don’t say that. I’ll get fat and lazy.”
“Exactly.”
They looked at each other like this for a moment, these weak smiles on both their faces that covered up the hurt that was still there beneath them. Aori was strong, he knew as much, but she had still suffered a lot in the past month for his sake and he would have to make up for it as soon as he could stand on his own feet again.
“There was no way I would not have come back,” he said, definitely. “I am so lucky to have you and I would not be in the business to let anything take me away from you or let anything take you away from me.”
Aori’s lips curled and she looked like she was going to cry again, so he pressed her hand tightly once more. “I don’t know what the future brings from here on out, where this country and society is headed in the next ten or twenty years, but I know that I want to find out with you. I want to always be with you.”
“Me too,” she sighed and Taishiro realised she was crying again, but maybe not out of desperation as before. At least he hoped so. “Everything seems so up in the air from here on out, but whatever it is I want to be by your side as we experience it. If that means I have to visit you 20 more times in the hospital then so be it.”
“I’m trying to limit it to 16”, he joked and she laughed again. A genuine, happy laugh, which made his heart very happy.
Then, as if she’d noticed something, her head snapped up and her wide eyes stared at him: “Wait, was that something like a proposal?” There was blush quickly developing on her cheeks.
Oh, yes, he had made it sound a little like that. Well, if it was his choice he wouldn’t mind marrying her tomorrow right in this hospital, with the evening sun shining into her hair just like it did right now. But he supposed that was not what she was searching for and he hadn’t meant it as a proposal in the first place. Still, her observation definitely gave him ideas.
“No, it was not really,” he answered in earnest and then grinned: “Though I definitely will propose to you sooner rather than later.”
“Sooner rather than later?!” She repeated and was now completely red.
Taishiro winked. “You’ll never see it coming and it will knock your socks off.”
He felt very satisfied when she dropped the next muffin she was about to hand him, because her hand was shaking too much. He could not turn back time to take her suffering away from her, but he could make sure that every moment he was awake and conscious and at her side were the happiest she could ever spent.
#fic tag#this is queued so idk where i am when this goes up#what? you say this hero academy is for me?#other peoples ocs
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Author Interview: Ashley Godschild [Vacancies in Time]
Authors note: I know this isn't something I would typically post, but due to my Professor being a literal joke, and the fact that I had the chance to interview a great local author AND the fact that people deserve the chance to read my interview with her, it's getting posted here.
Check out the Vacancies in Time trilogy here.
Follow her on Instagram and TikTok.
For the sake of some sort of timeline, the interview was conducted on February 20th, 2024 and the write-up was completed on March 20th, 2024.
Introductory Questions
Q: Tell me a bit about yourself and your background as an author (name, age, etc).
A: My name is Ashley Godschild, I turn 25 in a week (which I’m kind of looking forward to because with age comes grace). I started writing in grade 4, we had a writing assignment to write four pages, and I wrote 12. We had an author come to class and she explained to us that she wrote as a career, and I knew immediately that was what I wanted to do with my life. After that, I wrote for one hour every day until I finished my first book at age 12. I showed my mom, and she kindly pointed out there were no dialogue tags and so many, just so many run-on sentences. Looking back on it now I can see the perfectionism I had because after hearing that I deleted the whole thing. Cause it was easier to start from the beginning than to go through and edit it.
At 16 I did have an agent who had seen my manuscript and wanted to publish. But I still don’t know why I said no. I’m not sure if it was God saying “It’s not the right time” or if it was me if it was a gut feeling of discernment of “this person is not going to do it for you”. I also was not doing great mentally and I think the pressure I put on myself mixed with the pressure that would come from other people would have been bad. I think my biggest complaint was that they hadn’t had any problem with my manuscript, it was just “Wow this is so good, I’m so impressed someone as young as you could have something as good as this”. I’m not one for flattery, and I appreciate encouragement, and I’m not great with criticism, but having absolutely zero feedback, absolutely zero thought on something that could make it better, just sounds like you’re not someone who is going to look out for my best interest, you’re just gonna look out for money and for what you could make from me. I consider myself someone who prioritizes integrity, and there's the fact that everything can get better. There is no such thing as perfection. You can get close to it, you can kind of on it, but you can’t tell me that at 16 this book I had written was perfect and ready to publish – like no, absolutely not. I never want to have to compromise my own story and what I’m trying to tell people for the sake of sales for this big publisher.
Q: Who or what inspired you to become an author, and how did you start your journey?
A: I feel like it’s a lot of little different things, and I actually can't remember a time when I didn’t want to be an author. I know for a fact that the first person who ever said “Oh, so you’re an author” was my fourth-grade teacher. I’ve always been a storyteller. Even as a three-year-old, I used to go up to the cashiers at Superstore and tell them my real parents had died so I could get suckers. But I honestly can’t think of a time when I didn’t tell stories. It was a very natural progression, and having a lot of people help me along the way to say “This is how to better it, how to funnel it, this is how it should go”. My Oma was also a huge part of that because she used to come over and read with us, so books were always very important to her – she wasn’t born speaking English, and so language and the ability to learn and education to her was just such a huge deal to her. And she loved reading. Until her death, she was still reading and still looking for the next great story. I think she was the first one to print off one of my books and she brought my book around to all of my family members at a family reunion and told them to read it. She was very much a support and an inspiration for that. And I would say my mom, too. My eldest sister had tried writing, but it wasn’t her dream. My mom had tried writing – which I didn’t know – and my Oma tried writing, and it was like all these different things, I felt, were in accumulation to me. It was like it all built up to me trying to pursue it and do it right. Ms. Gordey was also a huge inspiration because, at 16-17, you’re trying to figure out “Okay, Lord. If this is what you truly called me to, what the heck am I supposed to do with this? Where am I supposed to go with this?” I was struggling with personal life, and mental health and all this other stuff and at the end of grade 12, Ms. Gordey had written all of us a letter. And in it, she had said “I’m not worried about telling you to always keep writing because you’re a writer. It's oxygen to your lungs. That is who you are. But I will say that you aren’t a teen author, you’re not a developing author, you’re not an aspiring novelist, you are an author, And I can't wait to see where you go from here and to follow your career from here.” And even just having that unshakeable belief in me was mind-boggling. It means so much from someone outside of your family to say “you’ve got this.” I still have that letter.
Book Related Questions
Q: Can you give a brief overview of Vacancies in Time and its central themes?
A: It’s based on a dream I had about my younger sister, it is… It’s hard to do anything with it and summarize it because I genuinely feel like there’s nothing like it. As I said, I try hard to be humble and say it how it is, but I’ve struggled marketing this because what do you even say? Who is the audience for this? It’s based on a dream, and that in and of itself is a challenge – it's something only you have seen, something only you have thought, and trying to turn it into something other people want to read, it’s hard.
I would honestly say it’s a story about an older sister's love and a journey into adulthood and figuring out what that means, and independence. Because, everyone has to get to the point where they, not leave their family, but spread their wings. I think Emma never wanted to be the burden, she never wanted to be the person that kind of stuck out or made her family's life harder. So she tried to be the responsible one, to be the person that her sibling needed. And then comes along this complete curve ball that she has never even thought about, and suddenly this person, this thing, is requiring her to choose between her family and herself. And that’s never been something Emma has had to think about.
Central Themes: Love conquers all, is huge throughout the entire trilogy. Fighting fate, which I find ironic because I don’t believe in fate, destiny or soulmates. I am very cut-and-dry with that sort of thing. And the irony does not leave me that I wrote a trilogy based on fate and time travel – which are two things I hate. I don’t like writing it, reading it, or watching it. But I think I did a pretty good job. Time and the value of it is another huge theme. And, again, just the irony of that alongside everything that happened throughout publishing, where it’s just all summed up in a quote from my second book: “Time is the commodity we cannot make more of”. And in the sense that, you can make more money and material things, but you can’t create more time. It’s a huge theme through it all to say, what will you do with the time you have? What are your priorities with it? Walk by faith, not by sight. That, again, was a huge thing with the publishing journey of this series. I almost threw up when I felt like God was telling me to drain my savings and publish this – and I went to my family and told them, and no one told me I was crazy. Everyone told me that now was the time to do it. There were a lot of ups and downs throughout the entire thing, and it's reflected from my personal life in the books. When you have a calling, or that gut feeling, or that thing, you just have to go and run with it. In my Oma’s words: you just gotta give’r!
Q: What was the timeline for writing and publishing Vacancies in Time?
A: I planned the entire trilogy in 3 hours, from start to finish. At first, I didn’t want to write it, but I was persuaded by the comments I got on my TikTok to go through with writing it. I wrote book 1 within a month (started in July and finished by the end of the month), and it was close to one month for each book. Finished 3rd book in 21 days. It took just over a year to decide to publish and go through with it. It was between August 2022 and June 2023 to publish all 3.
I’m not someone who regrets things; I refuse to regret the things I have done because I don’t think it's helpful. But, in the future, I know that I didn’t give it the time and the energy that it deserved. And I stand by the fact that it’s a good story, in fact, I would argue a great story. However, I don’t necessarily think the writing and the editing portrays that as well as it should. And, I know the first book is difficult to get into – basing a book on a dream, it’s hard to set up, and it takes a lot of time to get into. The first book is boring, let's be honest. It hasabout 27 filler chapters, with a few chapters with big action in them that make you want to keep reading. Books two and three are fast – like every page, you are on it and you’re rushing through it. I would almost argue that book one is a different genre than the other two. Book one is more romance, and books two and three are more sci-fi.
Q: How did this idea come to you? Was there any pop culture that inspired it?
A: I’ve always had very vivid dreams about my younger sister. The dream was only the first book, from start to finish. Some of the things that are in the book didn’t necessarily happen in the dream, but everything that did happen in the dream went into the book. I remember picking up my sister, bringing her to the condo, her sleeping, the massive (iconic) windows, the neon lights, hearing the bang, looking at the museum, seeing the people inside the museum dead, making eye contact, and feeling the sudden heart-stopping dread and thinking “there's no way he can see me”, seeing and hearing the door of the condo opening and watching them come in. I don’t remember a lot within the timeframe of them being in the condo, just a lot of questions and weirdly invasive eye contact. And I very clearly remember the feeling of “I’m never going to see you again”, and the feeling of Darcy’s hand on my face. The weirdest part was the shift from myself to Bingley in the car, and seeing from like a third POV, and watching the conversation and witnessing the switch from “No, we’re leaving” to “this is something I’m going to fight for”, and then realizing that I wasn’t there when they got back. Right to the moment of eye contact, running to each other, reaching for one another and then nothing.
I always kinda say that I write books for myself, but I am happy that I gave in to the peer pressure to write it. My goal is always to get it out of my head, otherwise it takes up space. And the quote I always refer back to is by Maya Angelou, and it is “there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you”.
Pop culture Influences: Pride and Prejudice had an inspiration on it, but I wouldn’t say that it’s a retelling of it. I do remember having those conversations about classical literature in my dream, and I really do love Pride and Prejudice, and I thought “If I’m going to write this book, then I might as well include some of the things I love”. I also would say, based on the time period, the TV series Loki and the TVA probably had some kind of bearing on the dream. Just knowing that I had watched it within 3 months before having the dream, it's very likely it was a subconscious inspiration.
Q: What were some of the challenges you faced while developing your characters?
A: This goes back to when I was saying that I wish I took more time. It's not that I don’t think the characters are well-rounded – I do think they are, and they’re very dimensional characters. But how am I, as a white woman who is 25 living in a northern, western country, supposed to properly represent all these different people, who have had these awful things happen to them? Like having someone who is black and was a slave, someone who is Chinese, someone who is Jewish. Writing these people who have these awful pieces of history they are representing and not being able to grasp that fully because I can’t. It doesn’t matter how much I try to put myself in their shoes, I can’t accurately and entirely represent their stories. Arguably, you can say that no one can because those things are so far removed, though we continue to see them crop up, and we see the effects of them. You don’t have people who have experienced it firsthand, anymore. But I do wish I had taken the time and will take the time in the future to look through and make sure that I am doing my best to tell stories that aren’t mine, that are humanity’s stories. So that was a big challenge – trying to make sure I didn’t whitewash my characters, and to make sure I respect the history that has been told as well as respecting the history that possibly hasn’t been told or represented.
Q: Family appears to be a key theme in the novel – how did or did not your family inspire some of Emma’s family in the book?
A: Avery was inspired/based on my 12-year-old sister, who is now 15 and it's very weird for me to think about that. She got to pick what Avery looked like, she insisted on the ferret, and she chose everything about Avery. So writing her and drawing inspiration from other events in life and trying to not give too much away but also at the same time share. Avery's journey with leukemia is not based on truth – I did have a sibling who almost died, and it definitely shook the family, there was a lot of fear and anxiety that comes with that, and there’s always the thought of trying to lower the amount of pressure on your family because this thing has happened. I wouldn’t say Mo is based on anyone – she is an archetype of a person, and I really just feel like I should put that on the record. I remember my Oma asking me if she was meant to be someone, and I was like “Nope, not at all.” It's funny because I wouldn’t say anyone else is heavily based on someone from my family, but all of them are an inspiration to it. Because no matter what you do, what you read, who you see, who you talk to, you're constantly drawing in that information. There were a couple of times reading back where I read something that I didn’t even remember putting into the book and it felt a little too revealing on my psyche and I decided to cut it out.
Q: How did your family react to A) the book being written and published, and B) to finding themselves written into the book (if they were)?
A: My family was very supportive, obviously they had been waiting for years for me to publish because I’d been doing it for ten years by this point. I had started a gofundme to cover bills and whatnot while I was in the process of publishing and they really showed up with that. Even that December they had given me a new laptop because mine had broken, and I had no idea about it and I was so heartbroken because that was the first Christmas I didn’t have gifts for anyone because I couldn’t afford it. They really showed up, time and time again. My mom and my roommate found out that I had published it a day early just to make sure everything was working, and they raced to see who could buy it first and then who would get it first. My roommate ended up reading it first, and that was super special to have people competing to read my work. My mom sent me a photo of a picture of my dad lying on our giant bean bag chair with his headphones on, reading on his Kindle. It was very sweet to see the way they showed up. There's so much doubt that happens when you’re writing and publishing, and having my Oma pass a month before the release date, it was super hard.
As for my sister, I don’t think she ever told me what she thought about Avery and if she liked the representation. I had gotten to surprise her because it’s partially dedicated to her, and I surprised her with that and she had no idea so she just started crying. She’s such a cute kid, she said she didn’t want anything else for Christmas except my book. So I got to surprise her with that and give her a signed copy. I’m very fortunate.
Q: What do you hope readers will take away from reading Vacancies in Time?
A: In context to the first book, I relate it to a verse in the bible that says to be open to inviting people into your home, because you will never know if you're feeding angels. It’s the idea of loving your neighbour the way they should be loved and never closing yourself off from showing the love of God, providing for your neighbour and inviting them to your table. I think that is something that Emma did very well, which is something I don’t always do super well. For Emma to just stop and relax in her faith and the certainty that she had that God would sort this out. She just let it happen and allowed the agents to make themselves at home in her apartment. It was very important to me that Agent Darcy never tried to placate her, never tried to comfort her or make up for her lack of social graces while he was talking about his history.
I think the biggest thing I want to be taken away from that is just to have compassion for people, to have a willingness to hear and be open to others' stories, and to be aware of how it impacts you. I think in terms of history and how people can argue so much about different historical events and what it means, I truly believe that history lies within the person telling it. That’s often the victors who want you to believe that they should be the victor, and to understand that sometimes not everything is what you see.
Always have an open mind and see people for more than what they appear to be. And also be willing to take a chance; I think that is a lot of what Emma was scared to do and Carter came in and told her “No, you have to take the chance”. I was fortunate enough to have people like that on this journey, and without them, I never would have taken this chance.
Q: Who is/was your favourite character to write, and why?
A: Carter. I really appreciate who he is, and I know that’s ironic because I wrote him. But I would say in so many ways he is everything I’m not. To just be so unapologetically himself – in the best and worst ways. He is a little off, thinking the moon landing was faked is… interesting. And I think people who are conspiracy theorists and question things get a bad rap. I have people in my life who think like that, and so it was interesting to explore that character and question “Who is he, what is he and why is he this way?” And I don’t think there's anything wrong with questioning, now I do sometimes think they can get a bit too intense over it, but to have a character who stood by his guns and is always willing to question everything and to seek the truth and not willing to take everything at face value. And on top of that all, he is an amazing friend to Emma. It shows more in the second and third books how smart and driven he is, even though he appears to be a dishevelled mess, he is who he is. And he's pretty great. And he’s got a special place in my heart because he’s such an amazing, supportive friend.
Q: Are there any particular scenes/moments that hold personal significance to you?
A: Chapter 19 You Make Me Feel So Young. It's this moment where Emma is really rushing to get things done. She’s watching everyone have a good time and dancing around her. But she’s also scared to join them; she needs to be responsible and it reminded me of a bible story. It’s the story of Mary and Martha – Martha is trying to be a good hostess while Jesus is speaking to his followers, and her sister Mary is just lying there just listening to Jesus. And the lesson from that is, you are always going to have the next job to do, and more people to take care of but you’re not always going to have this moment. I think even what Darcy was talking about when he said “I finally understand what it means to be young” and this idea of there is no responsibility, there's no deadline, and you just exist in your own world. And that’s not necessarily the best thing, but I think in a culture that emphasizes the hustle and the grind. And even myself, I place so many deadlines and expectations on myself and there's this constant need to do a full day of work and then come home and do more author stuff, because if I don’t do it now, then it’s not going to happen. To have those moments where you stop and just live in the moment without any of the distractions, it’s priceless.
So that chapter has a big significance to me. It’s not just because I love Frank Sinatra and I love that song - but because did Darcy recognized that Emma wanted to join them but wasn’t willing to. And also the fact that Darcy was willing to be vulnerable and share that part of himself and say “To me, youth has always been foolish. But with you, I feel young and I can be foolish with you.” And I think every girl has that dream of dancing around their apartment with someone, and I think having that moment and having that intimacy shown was nice. And just shows that you will find that person and that there is timeless love, and you can take a moment to breathe and absorb the moment and be with the people you love. I think it’s important to make space for those moments, otherwise life will pass you by.
Q: Discuss the significance of the title of Vacancies in Time and how it shaped the book.
A: I had gotten the book planned, and I sat there trying to figure out what to call it. Based on the dream and the contents of the first book, you can't really use the metric for a science fiction title. You don’t want to give too much away, but you also want to hint at what’s in it. I knew I wanted something to do with time, and it just hit me – Vacancies in Time. And it works, and it makes sense because there are vacancies in time.
Q: Book covers play an integral role in attracting readers – how involved were you in the design process, did you have any specific concepts or themes you wanted to convey on the cover of Vacancies in Time? (Read in acknowledgements you made it on your own, on Canva)
A: In three hours, the day before the release. Once again, I don’t suggest the way I’ve done this, it was so not a good idea. I didn’t do the art myself, necessarily. Canva has a lot of artists that it pulls from, and they have to put on it if it is AI-generated. I feel very strongly about AI-generated things, especially art. But I found an artist who had a lot of Sci-fi kind of things – and the cover is nothing like the idea that I had, and still have. I would love to, in the future, republish and include a pronunciation guide, the cover I wanted at the very beginning, and all these different things.
Q: What was your concept for the cover?
A: On the front of the book is Emma looking out, from the POV of her bed, almost, looking out onto the street with the neon lights and everything. On the back cover, you see the outside of her building with her looking onto the street, and at the bottom corner, you see a head (who would be Darcy) looking up at her. In like an animation style.
I had someone lined up to do this kind of cover that I wanted but the timeline just didn’t work, and unfortunately, when I had talked to them it was the day my Oma died. So obviously things were derailed. I didn’t touch anything for two or three weeks, and I just didn’t have the time to make that cover happen. I’m happy with the cover now, I don’t love it necessarily, but I love it for what it is. The big thing for me was that, it is a science fiction novel, and I wanted it to convey that. The neon was important, but every single one of my books has an element that hints at something that happens in the book.
I’m not sure if you noticed, but on the back cover the rain is going upside down. And that kind of thing continues throughout all of the books.
Writing Process Questions
Q: What does your writing process look like? Do you follow a routine or have any rituals for when you’re writing?
A: Getting a full-time job has ruined the process that I had. But what has remained the same is that I open my laptop, and bring up my characterization sheets, my cheat sheet. And I bring up the manuscript – I just use Word. I know other people use Scrivener and other things, but I’m not fancy. I was 10 or 12 when I started, and I don’t like new things, so Word is where it’s at. When I was 20 I started doing novel outlines – so by the time I actually started writing it I already had every single chapter planned. I have, from start to finish, everything that is supposed to happen, chapter by chapter. I taught myself to be a plotter because I found it so much easier. And I would say, by doing this, I don’t struggle with writer's block anymore. There is occasionally the moment where I realize what I am writing just doesn’t fit anymore, but other than that I am never out of inspiration because it’s all written down.
I send myself notes on Messenger all the time, so I often check that before I start writing and add it to my sheets. With work, however, I have been trying to use what’s called the “Momentum Method” – the idea is you go to work, come home and immediately start writing or editing, and use that inspiration and motivation to get going. It doesn’t always work for me, because sometimes I find that I need like half an hour to decompress after work and get my brain settled before writing. I also have a walking pad, and I try to walk while I’m writing and editing – I haven’t been super great with that lately, just because I’ve been putting a lot of effort into the newsletter and getting it finished.
Q: Can you share a memorable moment from your writing journey that had a significant impact on your development as an author?
A: I can’t pinpoint one specific moment, because this journey has been a lot of highs and lows, and even in the lows I have found something to keep me going. I would say for publishing specifically, I had come across this interview with Leigh Bardugo, and she said “Your job is to make art when no one cares, that’s the battle”. Because as soon as you get the recognition, and you get the readers, everyone wants to praise you. It’s when you’re in the trenches with no readers or money, that’s when it matters most. Continuing to go forward is a skill you have to learn. I’ve always had that thought in my head, and it meant a lot to me to see a very well-known author, at one point, felt the same way and had the same doubts as myself. It was enough to push me forward and to publish the third book.
Q: Are there any specific authors or literary figures who have influenced your writing style? If so, in what ways?
A: The answer always goes back to every little thing is an inspiration. I would say Jane Austen is definitely someone who I aspired to be like. I think she always had a very personal way of telling stories, I feel like you always saw her in her novels. And, it is my hope (because I am planning on writing so many books) that I’m never predictable, but I do hope there is always a moment in every book I write where the reader goes, “Oh, this is Ashley”. I think Jane Austen does that very well.
I also really love C.S. Lewis – he is a huge inspiration of mine, in just the way he wrote books, how he wrote them, and who he wrote them for. I also like J.R.R. Tolkien for how descriptive he is, even though he spent three pages just talking about a blade of grass – I think that’s excessive, but I appreciate the way he could just paint the world for you. Leigh Bardugo, also, I just love the way she makes her characters. She does “found family” really well, and it's interesting because I would say so many of her characters aren’t really likable. Which sounds crazy, but it's like almost every single one of her characters has these massive flaws that are staring you in the face, so you almost have to question why you like them so much. But at the same time, that’s what makes you human – it’s your flaws. You can’t love someone without loving their flaws.
Q: What role does research play in your writing process, especially when tackling subjects that may require in-depth knowledge or understanding?
A: I try and do research, but there is a bit of previous knowledge because I took Wester-European AP, and history has always been very interesting to me. I remember in grade five learning about Greece and Athens, and the birth of democracy, and that has always had a place in my heart – history in general has always had a place in my heart. Mostly because it’s our story; they call it his-tory, but when you’re looking at history, you’re looking at the story of the world, of humans, and you can see where we’ve been and if you look hard enough you can see, in my opinion, where we’re going. I would say I gained a lot of knowledge from my education and my love of history, but then there was also a lot of research.
One of my biggest things while developing characters was figuring out what dictators am I going to use, who was going to be connected to each of these people, and what is it going to eventually lead to. Now, admittedly, and I won’t give too much detail, but one of the dictators I chose is just because I like them and learning about them. Obviously, they’re a dictator so they’re not the best but I think if any dictator was “good”, it would be this person. There was a lot of research, and there were times when I had to stop writing to look something up.
Q: How do you handle writer’s block or challenges in the creative process, and what strategies do you find most effective in overcoming them?
A: More often than not, in my experience, writer's block happens because there’s something wrong in the story. Whether that means you’re trying to force something, or because this idea you had no longer works and you’re not sure how to fix it, or if there’s something you left behind that needs to be brought in. Most of the time when I would get writer's block I would just go back and read it and find what was wrong. There have been times when I’ve deleted entire chapters and started over because something from however long ago caused things to not work. And even with using a novel outline, there have been times when I realized I’ve shot myself in the foot and I need to do it over again. I can admit that sometimes you have off days, but I’ve learned that you sometimes just need to force yourself to write – discipline doesn’t grow out of nothing, it's something you have to practice. But I also believe in taking a break, and that having a bad day can affect your writing. So going back and reading what you wrote on that bad day is definitely worthwhile because your mood does impact your writing and you might be putting something in that you don’t necessarily mean to put in.
While I do believe that your book is you and you should be able to do whatever you want with it, at the same time you’re not honoring the story if you’re basing your characters off people you know and killing them off because that person hurt you. You’re not honouring the story, or yourself, or the reader. That person may have existed to you through this character, but to everyone else, they exist in the book, separate from you and your life. Once you have people reading your novels, you have to acknowledge their interpretation might not be the right interpretation. Don’t get me wrong, you can think whatever you want about something that’s been written, but that doesn’t mean your interpretation is right.
Personal/Fun Questions
Q: Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice seems to be an influence on Vacancies in Time, can you elaborate on any inspiration drawn from it?
A: I think for every romance, people need to have something in common. And how do you find something in common between a black slave from the eighteen hundreds and a mostly white woman from the 2050’s? I was trying to find a common thread, and I think in the argument of “timeless love” and the idea of history being a form of storytelling, and having a thread that connects all of us – I don’t believe in soulmates – but I do believe that sometimes people are cut from the same cloth. It wasn’t a process of “how do I bring these two together” – I knew it had to be a connection and a shared experience, and I thought about what brought Darcy and everyone else together and it was this idea of wanting adventure and having this craving for the unusual. I think every reader has that craving; you might not be the bravest person but you do want a taste of a new experience – and that is what brought both Emma and Darcy to reading.
Pride and Prejudice is my favourite book, and I think because stories were what always connected me to people, I wanted to play with that idea in the book and play with the idea of “What is going to bring you all together and keep you together?”, and that’s how it turned out in the book.
Q: Religion is openly present in Vacancies in Time, how has your faith or religious background influenced the theme and messages you explored in the novel?
A: It influenced my writing in so many ways because God is so integral to who I am. I know for a fact I would not be alive if it wasn’t for him, and I never would have written and published if it wasn’t for him. Sometimes I struggle with saying the right thing and being understood by people because I often am not presenting myself well, or people will misconstrue what I am saying – which makes me relate to Darcy, in a way. But my writing is where I get to shine. And I believe that I can use my writing to accurately give people an idea of who I am, but also who God is and what he has done for me.
Q: If you could travel through space and time and meet anyone (fictional or real) where would you go and who would you meet?
A: I would probably go to the UK and meet C.S. Lewis – and I would probably try to convince him to come back to our time so he wouldn’t have to deal with the bombs and the war. On a more personal note, I would probably meet my Opa Morris – my Oma was married to Opa Morris before my current Opa, and I hear so much about him and I live his legacy every day. I just think to see where it all comes from would be very special. On the other hand, I might choose one of my ancestors from the other side of my family. I was raised with the belief that half of my family was indigenous, and there have been questions raised in recent years about whether or not that is true, so I would probably want to meet an ancestor from the other side of our family to figure out if it's true. It was something I used to be so proud of, and now there’s so much that has happened surrounding my ancestry – so I would like to get some answers about that.
Q: What’s some advice you can give to emerging authors?
A: You need to genuinely understand that it’s not going to be easy, and it’s going to suck at times. Big time. There’s going to be times where you’re going to question yourself, you’re going to have other people question you. You’re going to have moments of shame and moments of excitement, and it’s a bit of a rollercoaster of questioning.
The other thing is that you should know what your reason is. I've said since I was 16 that I am writing because if my books change even just one person's life, that would be enough. If one person feels seen, if they identify with a character, if they get help because of something I write that would be enough for me. Reading was always an escape for me, so if I can create a safe space where someone can escape from the turmoil that is life – that’s enough for me. Just figure out what your reason is for writing, and stick by it – despite having bad reviews, or no reviews or when you’re having those moments of self-questioning.
Q: What’s next for you?
A: I have two possible books that I can publish next – both are the start of a trilogy. I’m leaving it up to people to vote on through Google Forms because I genuinely don’t know which one to do next. One is a Werewolf-Hunter paranormal romance, kind of like Shadowhunters meets Vampire Academy, meets Twilight. The other one is about a group of young adults who create this group called “The Outcasts”, loosely based on Robin Hood, and they steal from the rich and they learn that this treasure they’ve read about is real and it’s hidden in this castle – and the leader decides they're going to get it, but for her, it’s not just business, it’s personal. I’m not sure which one I want to publish more, and part of me wants to publish both at the same time, but I know that’s crazy. So one of those two will pop up within the next… who knows.
I’m editing another book right now, and reverse outlining another book and rewriting that. My goal for this year was to shift my focus to becoming a better author – so I’ve gotten books about being an author, I didn’t know that books were supposed to have a three-act structure. I didn’t know about story framing or the eight-beat story. So I’ve been learning a lot about that, and learning about how to better my craft and refine it. I learned about the Writers Helping Writers series. So I’m trying to slow down and learn more and to build on the basics and get better as a writer.
#on-these-scorched-pages#author interview#local authors#local#Vacancies in Time#Ashley Godschild#Before anyone asks YES this was an assignment for Uni#Words cannot describe how annoyed I am at my professor bc not only did he cheat his students out of a potentially great class#he also got the hopes up of SO many people involved#original-ish writing#interview
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DROP EVERYTHING! Teacher's Pet part II is up and i read it (ofc i did, the way i rushed here—) and i am in your walls again to gush about it with you! first of all, thank you for tagging me! also, i think i read that you've been busy so thank you for still writing and finding the time and surprising us with 10k words. whaaat? you're amazing!
as always, here are some of my favourite parts, i can't help but talk about them:
"Ain't nothing to be sorry for. S’your first time. It takes practice. Now, c'mon. Try again. Nice and easy. And if this man tries to-"
But you're not in the mood for another Joel Miller Life Lesson, especially when he’s about to mention the other man who's name you can barely even remember anymore.
i love the way he can't help himself, he always makes her feel at ease, and comfortable, and reminds her she shouldn't feel pressured and shouldn't feel ashamed about anything. anything. !!! but the way she doesn't even care anymore about the other guy is hilarious to me, this is joel miller's sex class and she is the most diligent student
But that's a problem for another day.
For the next time.
i was writing down my reactions as i was reading so i didn't know what happens later but this part got me like - you're telling me... you're... there's gonna be a next time? she's already thinking about a next time? this is not a one-off thing? i got so excited about the prospect of that
And maybe, most likely, the words slipped out unintentionally, the heat of the moment forcing out things that he doesn’t really mean. But all the alarms and sirens in your head warning yourself to not fall too deep into this trap that is Joel Miller with his pretty words and sweet praises and soft smiles are all dead silent right now. There’s not a single part of your brain that’s trying to resist him right now. You doubt you could even if you wanted to.
i just love the way you wrote this. (like, i'm obsessed with it, i can't find words to describe it, it is so good, i keep coming back to it to read it again and again and aga—)
"If I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. If I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you. To kiss you," he says, punctuating his last word with a kiss to the center of your chest
uhmmm so gentle and hot and then this part
"Or do you plan on letting him have you too?" He asks, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple before closing his lips around the pebbled peak, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing it before he pulls back. "'Cause I'm not too keen on sharin', baby."
i died here, then continued reading as a ghost btw
It's useless, trying to avoid it. Trying to push it down, bury it, ignore it, how you've been feeling and what you want.
this part! i'm obsessed with the way the words just roll off my tongue when i read it. there's a rhythm in my head and i love the way you wrote this and you should know that, you talented genius you
"You've been trying to sleep with me for a whole year?!"
"I wouldn’t say trying," he says with a casual shrug. "Just waiting. Wanted you to take the lead but you’re a little stubborn, baby."
just waiting. joel miller, a. man. that. you. are.
also, the fact they both admitted they had feelings for each other was something i didn't expect going into this, i thought they were gonna end up bottling it, so now that we have this turn of events, it's everything.
tl;dr: part two is passionate and hot and insane and i don't think we're ever gonna be the same.
the way you write is captivating and compelling and the fact that you can just write 10k words and have it be this !! wow! how does it feel to be this talented? you have it in spades and i'm glad to be your reader bb. and all of this for free?? unbelievable! anyway, this is just my way of saying thank you, and that i enjoyed it, and i hope you're proud of what your brain can do. i'm sorry for the lenghty message, i had to gush!!
btw this was me at jm and his filthy mouth in this part:
sorry I am so late replying to this but THANK YOUUUU BABY THIS IS SO SWEEETTTTTT!!!!!! 🥹🥹😭
I am also amazed that I managed to crank out 10k words but I fr cannot stop myself when it comes to this man and it honestly all just flowed so nicely I think I'm just in love with their dynamic :')) Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to say these lovely words they mean the whole world and more to me 🥰🫶🩷
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There's a boy in the girls' bathroom.
When Diamond's mother requested a meeting, the Principal expected just about anything. This would be the sixth of the year so far, and the last two were about her concerns for the kind of books kids were reading (they hadn't yet started with literature at that point, so he didn't really understand what got her so worried) and how he should name her President of the PTA since her cookies where 'the most organic ones'. He was still puzzling over that one.
So when mother and daughter entered his office, he put on his best smile and got ready for half an hour of incoherency. As he was opening his mouth to greet her-
"There's a boy in the girls' bathroom", she cut him off, not bothering with pleasantries. "He's been using it for weeks now! And no one does a thing!"
Still, he knew from the last time that if he went ahead and addressed her concerns first, she'd get mad that he didn't greet her, and start yipping about politeness, and how he was giving such a bad example to all students, including her precious daughter.
"Mrs Stacy, it's great to see you. I hope you didn't wait too long in the reception this time."
Karen Stacy motioned for her daughter to take a seat in one of the chairs by the desk, taking to other to herself, frown still firmly in place as she glared at him. Diamond sat down, glittery gel nails making a tap tap tap against her phone screen as she typed with abandon. He'd tell her to put it away, but remembered meeting number three, and how Karen had screeched at him that he was violating her precious angel's constitutional right to have her phone on her (?),so he decided to choose his battles and focused on the matter at hand.
"Hello, yes, good morning. What are you going to do about the boy?" She pressed on, undeterred.
Had Karen been born in Greece during ancient times, the invasion of Troy would have ended on half a day. The woman had such a one track mind, it reminded him of hunting hounds.
"What boy?" It'd be so much easier to just get a name out of her, promise to look into it and then punish the other kid with less troublesome parents.
Karen stopped for a second. Then looked at her daughter.
"Matt", Diamond offered, not taking her eyes off her phone. Who was she even texting? She was twelve, and all her friends were (supposedly) in class right now.
"Matt", Karen repeated with finality, as if expecting him to order the execution of the boy on the spot.
"... Which Matt?" He insisted, because the school had like seven Matts among their thousand something alumni, how the hell was he supposed to know?
Karen looked at him like he was dumb for needing that clarification, but Diamond shrugged and answered.
"Matt Kingsley. He's in my year", she further specified, slowly. Her tap tap tap didn't stop.
He thought it over for a moment, slightly confused.
"There's no Matt Kingsley in your class", he wonders, careful to not outright question Diamond with her angry dragon of a mother in the room. Then, like a bucket of ice water, came the revelation. "But there's a Nataly Kingsley. She cut her hair a few weeks ago, right? Is that the issue here, Diamond?"
Diamond sighed, long and deep, like she was so over this. Karen's glare sharpened, like a hunting knife.
"No, the issue is that Matt shouldn't be using the girls' bathroom. And he says he can't use the boys' cause the faculty doesn't let him. One of the teachers said it'd make the boys uncomfortable, but me and the girls asked everyone and literally no one gives a shit-"
"Language", he automatically chided.
"Don't interrupt my baby", Karen immediately jumped in.
Diamond kept going, like neither of them had uttered a word. She just grimaced a bit, as if the message she was in the process of typing was a difficult one.
"-So we asked again and the teachers said nothing could be done cause you didn't want any parent to complain about Matt using the bathroom he SHOULD be using. And I thought, 'they are scared of angry parents? Bet, I'll give you angry parents'. And here we are. We -the girls, boys and basically everyone in my year, really- want Matt to use the proper bathroom."
He was getting a headache, fuck.
"Diamond... Her name is Nataly. And she has to use the girls' room. It's the rules. I understand maybe her new... Fashion choice might make you girls uncomfortable, but I promise it's a phase, you just have to hang in there and wait it out -"
"She said the boy's name is Matt", Karen spit out. She looks sideways to her daughter, a little concerned. "Does he make you feel unsafe, baby? Gives off creepy vibes or something?"
Diamond shakes her head. It somehow doesn't make her dislodge her eyes from the screen.
"Matt's cool. You know him- his mom is the one who brought the oatmeal cookies you liked to the bake sale last year. She's a single mom who works double shifts at the hospital, so that's why Matt doesn't ask her to come complain. He just does his business and leaves. But he's a boy. He doesn't want to use our restroom. We don't want him to use our restroom- what if I have a crush on him someday? How am I gonna tell my besties, if there's the chance that he might walk in while we are on the bathroom and hear? Last week Millie had a pimple, and she wanted to hide it before any boy noticed, but Matt was in the bathroom; she had to swear him to secrecy."
The Principal sighs.
"Nataly -"
"Are you deaf? She's talking about Matt, and honestly, I'm appalled you've allowed a boy into the girls' bathroom when they clearly don't want him there, and then say it's for their own comfort."
Behind her phone, he could have sworn he saw Diamond smile. Good, at least someone found the situation funny.
"There is no Matt, Mrs Stacy. Diamond is talking about a girl on her class, who's been insistent on being referred to as a boy lately. As you can imagine, we can't just allow a girl to use the boys' bathroom just because she decided she was one of them one morning."
"Matt's been using that name for months now", Diamond's voice, while still confident and even, had an undercut of steel, so much like her mother it was grating.
"But she-"
"Listen here, Mr Principal", Karen interjected again. "I don't really care what name he went by before. He's using a boy's name now?"
"Y-yes."
"Does he LOOK like a boy?"
"I mean... A little."
"Does he call HIMSELF a boy?"
"...yes."
"Then he's a damn boy. And my daughter doesn't want him in her bathroom. End of story."
"But-!"
Karen's phone pinged. She glanced at it.
"It's my hairdresser, dear", she informed Diamond. "A spot cleared on her schedule, so I can go in earlier. I have to go." Then, back to him. "We are done here. If Diamond comes back and tells me you didn't let this boy use the correct bathroom again, I will call your manager."
"The Board, mom."
"That. Whatever. Did I make myself clear? Good. Bye, baby angel! I'll see you at home."
"But- if the other parents complain-?"
But Karen had already left, in as much of a whirlwind as she had dragged in with her when she arrived.
Diamond stood up, too, stretching a little.
"Don't think about other people- who's scarier and more annoying for you, them or my mom? And if anyone complains, not that I think they will, just give them my mom's number. She'll take care of it. Last time someone complained about what I wore to dance class, she made them cry. And if any bully tries to make it Matt's issue, I'LL make them cry."
The Principal blinked. Could it be...?
"You knew what you were doing, bringing your mother here, didn't you? Does she know the 'boy' she's defending is actually just a girl? A girl you like?"
For the first time since she got into his office, Diamond put her phone away and looked him straight into his eyes.
"Matt. Is. A. Boy. Stop fucking up his pronouns. But to answer your question, my mom dislikes everyone equally, and what do you think will be easier for her to swallow? That her daughter likes a girl, or that she's in love with a boy who was just born in the wrong body?"
And with the most scheming, twisted smile he'd seen in his whole career, she excused herself to go back to class.
Utterly defeated and more than a little impressed, he turned on his computer to redact a mass email about Nataly- no, Matt Kingsley being allowed to use to boy's bathroom.
"Teenagers scare the living shit out of me", he muttered under his breath.
#my writting#i was at work and this kid was readinf a story called 'a boy on the girls'bathroom '#it was nothing like this snippet but it gave me this idea#Diamond knows her mom is the most stereotypical Karen ever#and she makes the Karen system work for her#tw: transphobia#maybe?#just to be sure#its dealt with accordingly#hope you like it!#creative writing#my writing
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No more facts about ourselves, we are boring fleshbags, I want to hear about imaginary people.
What are four facts about your oldest OC? Even if they're no longer in use, forgotten, discarded, tell me about them.
Then go ask four other people about theirs, if you want, I'm not your mother.
The very oldest?
When I was in kindergarten I used to dictate story ideas to the third-graders who would write them down for me, and then I would illustrate the books and give them to my teacher to stable for me. That was the Cat family. There was cat, mother cat, baby cat, and father cat (I believe that there were 4 of them, and the 1st "book" was about bringing baby cat home from the hospital).
In 3rd grade I wrote my first actual story which was about a girl named Josefina who went north looking for gold during the gold rush, and also her irrepressible younger cousin whose name I can't remember who was sent to go live with her because she was a witch and was causing problems at home. Among other things, she made the dogs talk, so I guess they counted as characters too.
I dithered around here and there for a while with a bunch of stories that I remember the plots of but not really the characters, plus some RPs and suchlike. I definitely had a magical girl story and a sort of magical school story which were inspired by W.I.T.C.H. And The Circle Opens series respectively. And then when I was 12 I made up Sanne, who later was replaced by Ithea, and Ithian. The fact that he is technically older than her drive me nuts LMAO
As Ithian is the oldest character that I can remember four facts about, here we go:
1: Originally he was trapped somewhere outside of reality and it was only his ability to travel through and manipulate dreams that allowed him any window into the real world. He actually still does have the ability to manipulate dreams! 2: Originally he was hunting down Sanne through various agents that he managed to convert via dreams, I think he was trying to kill all of her race because they were the ones that trapped him and he thought that would break his confinement or something. Now of course he's still hunting/pestering Ithea but not for the same reasons 3: When the story changed and he and Ithea were twins and I needed a new name for her, I named her after him because it felt like their parents were the kind of people to do something like that… But even so Ithian and Ithea are not really pronounced all that similarly since one is a soft 'I' and one is a hard 'I' lol 4: In every version Ithian always had a particular grudge against Sanne/Ithea's love interest so in older versions he was the one who killed Aidian, and then he was always after Anthem. Of course in the current version he and Ithea die at each other's hands and Anthem outlives both of them. Still, it's interesting!
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I was gonna put this in the tags but... I feel like the Story of how she got her name also requires the Story of how she came into my life and I was very quickly nearing the tag limit and had only just gotten to the actual naming bit of it.
For starters, this Story requires a few pieces of Context.
I was born on a Friday the 13th
Because of this, I've always joked that bad omens/things that cause bad luck are actually good luck for me
I have the tendency to remember words that most people have never even heard of.
My cat is a black cat.
OKAY SO, one day this lady drops her cats off at our house, because she's being evicted, and my aunt agreed to watch over them until she got a new place to stay. The cats are named Megan and Momma.
One day, my aunt tells this lady "hey i cant watch these cats for forever, you have like a month or whatever before i give them over to the shelter". The lady doesn't find a place to stay, unfortunately the cats will have to go. Except shelters in my area have long waitlists for cats. We have no idea how long it'll be until these cats are accepted.
Megan, she's a ridiculously friendly cat and she's accepted in like a month give or take. Momma? She's skittish and mean and she does NOT like to be touched for very long. We're gonna have to work on warming her up before the shelter will even consider her.
But I adore this cat and I see her potential!! She used to be a feral cat and the lady was the first home she ever lived in!! Of course she's mean and skittish, she's in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people and is no longer being let outside like she was with the lady. I'm patient and quiet so eventually Momma warms up to me and her friendly side is revealed. The shelters still can't take her though.
One day, a family member needs to stay overnight in the room Momma was being kept in. And because this family member is Frail, the cat will need to be moved elsewhere. Of course I offer my room. Of course it comes with the caveat that if nothing goes horribly wrong, I will end up keeping this cat. My aunt is like ugh okay fine whatever. Everything goes absolutely swimmingly. This cat is on my lap within minutes of being in my room (she would not get in my lap in the other room).
So. Now that this is my cat, her name has got to change. I HATE the name Momma. Despised with my entire being, but I had put up with it until now because it wasn't my cat and we weren't going to be keeping it long. I knew i wanted her name to be unconventionally sweet and have a russian vibe to it (actual russian origin not required).
Eventually, I settle on the name Maisie. It's not quite right but I've spent a week searching for names and I want to just be done with it...
Except that my aunt on the other side of the family has a cat named Maisie.
Do i see this aunt often, let alone speak to her?? Not really!! Renaming this cat Maisie would not be a problem!! But I just can't do it now that I've remembered this and I mean the name wasn't quite Right anyway. My search continues.
Anyone with siblings will know how desperate I was when I asked my little brother for help. He doesn't have any ideas that i like, and so being the Little Shit that he is, he starts listing off Fancy Long Names. Think Bartholomew. Then he moves on to Fancy Long Words. And then he gives one that has -phobia at the end of it.
Immediately, I am reminded of the word I learned from my 7th grade english teacher.
Triskaidekaphobia.
The fear of the number 13.
And everything clicks. That's it. My birthday, the word, the superstitions around black cats. It's perfect.
Triska. Triskaideka, offically. I will never ever name anything so wonderfully fitting again in my life, I just know it.
TLDR: My cat's name is Triska, after Triskaidekaphobia. She's a black cat and naming such a superstitious animal after the name of a superstition that directly tied into my birthday was Perfect.
Bonus points if you reblog with the pet's name in the tags
#anyway#I would describe my 7th grade english teacher as a soft butch ms frizzle#i loved her#she was also russian come to think of it...
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Book: "Vessel." Pairing: Oh Junseok (ATBO) x Reader 1.3 - "ΕΝΑΣ ΞΕΝΟΣ." Word Count: 2,500
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───── ❝ a stranger.❞ ─────
But he's dead.
He shouldn't be here.
All I could do was stare at the boy who sat next to me with an unexplainable feeling that made me hold my breath. It was that same feeling I felt when I saw the flowers placed around his locker while a framed picture of him was hung on the front, smiling back at me while tears quietly streamed down my face.
Everyone mourned for him loudly yet once the bell rang, they were nowhere to be seen. But I was still there, standing still as what he told me before he went on that trip was still stuck in my head.
"Oh, you're really not allowed to go?"
I should've known he was wishing for me to come with him. I could've been there with him but what can I do? My parents wouldn't say yes.
"Dear, are you alright?" I remembered how one of the teachers asked while I sat on the floor, still staring at the locker. That time, everyone had made their way home already while I was still there, trying to accept what had happened but until now, it's still in my head.
"But his body wasn't found, right?" I asked her back.
"Yes, but he is… gone.” Mrs. Lee already sounded as if she regretted asking me.
I could remember that exact moment I was finally on my feet, crossing my arms as my eyes chose to look everywhere but that locker. "You can't change what the police stated. He's gone, Dear." She shook her head right after, later caressing the top of my head as she turned away, already on her way out.
But then, she turned around once more, facing my eighth-grader self as she seemed to have noticed that it was already late in the afternoon. "Be careful, hm?"
I don't know if I ever was careful.
And today, I kept on staring at him as he minded his own business, even putting his legs on top of his desks as his pen was in between his lips.
He was almost unrecognizable but I knew that it was him. I couldn't even pay attention to the first two classes because of the way I always found myself looking back at him as if I had expected something from him.
But who was I to expect something from a dead person? Was he even real?
"So, why were you staring at him?" Seunghwan was apparently quick to notice everything I've done since the start of the day as I looked back at Hyunjun, noticing how he also seemed interested to know the reason behind it.
"It was nothing!" I excused myself, taking a bite from the fried chicken I ordered for lunch while they both raised their eyebrows at me in doubt.
"Yeah, well, it doesn't look like it was nothing at all,” Hyunjun muttered between gritted teeth and a slight smile as I breathed out, choosing not to mind whatever he said.
Should they know? I'm sure that they shouldn't know anything about it. From a few steps away, I could hear him laughing with his friends, causing me to turn around and watch him enjoy his time alongside different students that I didn't know either. Turning back to them, Seunghwan tilted his head to the side, not buying the excuse I made earlier.
"Honestly, that doesn't seem like it was nothing…" His tone was somewhat filled with a melody as he hummed, which made the boy beside him chuckle.
Does it look like I can escape this damn situation? No.
Great.
How do I explain to two people that my dead best friend is actually alive and doing well? I'm not even sure if he even remembers me. It's been a long time since his death was announced. "... I just thought he was someone I knew." I snickered, playing it off as if it wasn't so serious but Hyunjun still looked skeptical about it.
He wasn't going to let this pass. I just know it.
As soon as he grabbed his phone, he began to surf the internet for answers as I tried not to roll my eyes yet still failed despite my attempts. "What's his name again?" He asked the boy next to him as the other one looked up at the ceiling for a while.
"I think his name is… it's Junseok Oh, right?" Seunghwan questioned, looking into my eyes as I faked a smile, nodding slowly.
"Look, guys, it's nothing. I just found him cute and all."
I excused myself yet again but this time, they were both convinced that it was why I was staring at him. Well, at least, they wouldn't have to know that Junseok has been pronounced dead for the past three years.
But I never realized how that alibi would backfire immediately. “Really? Then, why don’t you go talk to him? You were literally sitting next to him earlier.” Seunghwan teased as I squinted my eyes at him, both jokingly and nervously as I looked behind to see him talking about something with his friends.
How could I talk to him? He’s already so different yet so the same from three years ago.
“He’s probably not interested in me.” I made up another excuse, causing Hyunjun to let out a whine, disagreeing with what I told them as he shook his head furiously.
“You two don’t even know each other yet! What if he changes his mind in the long run?” He immediately showed me the bright side of it but sadly, it wasn’t just because I thought that he wouldn’t be interested in me… God, it feels like I’m seeing a ghost.
But how?
How did he survive?
How is he still alive after all those years?
I shuddered, gulping at how much he’d changed as I wasn’t sure if he’d even be happy to see me.
“Come on, Y/N! You can do it!” Seunghwan cheered from the other side of the table as I gave myself a nod, taking a deep breath before deciding that it wouldn’t probably end up as bad as I thought. Getting up from my seat, I heard the two boys from behind faintly cheer – because they probably didn’t want to be too loud – while I headed towards Junseok’s table, my shoulders slouched as I bit my bottom lip, keeping my head down.
“Is this seat taken?”
It took me a moment to finally lift my head from the sight of the tiles, facing Junseok straightforwardly as his lips were suddenly sealed shut as well as the other boys who sat with him.
“Hello, there? Do you need something? My name’s Rakwon by the way. You?” The blonde one extended his arm towards me, his eyebrows slightly raised as he had somewhat of a confident look on his face.
“Oh, uh… Hi, there. My name’s Y/N-”
And then, I was interrupted by another friend of theirs. “So, Y/N, do you like parties?” The other one beside him asked. Honestly, the first thing I noticed about him was how plump his lips were.
“Parties? I’ve never been into one so I don’t know,” I replied, reading the tiny pin he had. I’m guessing his name is Junmin Ryu.
But I guess that’s not much of an important thing since Junseok chuckled at how I wasn’t invited to parties. Great.
“So, not a party girl, huh? Why are you here, then?”
Everyone in Junseok’s circle has already asked me too many questions when all I wanted was to talk to him – not the others. “I just want to talk to him,” I quietly answered, the words coming out of my mouth almost as silent as a whisper as I was weakly pointing toward him. His expressive eyes widened as his finger pointed at himself in surprise. I mean, I can’t blame him.
To be called by a stranger on your first day in university is overwhelming. “Me? What did I do?” The boy in the all-black outfit and the brown cap asked, later letting out a chuckle as he hesitantly got up from his seat. “What do you need me for?”
I needed an explanation, Junseok… I have so many questions. How could he act like he never knew me?
“A minute,” I coldly requested, which made his other friends react as if they were poking fun at him while finding me odd at the same time. In their minds, they think that I’m just a complete stranger but in mine? I knew him before they did.
Junseok sighed, taking my wrist in his grasp as he quickly led me to a space a few steps away from his table. “Okay, can you make this quick? We’ve been trying to plan Rakwon’s party out, you know?” He was irritated, crossing his arms at me as he even rolled his eyes, making me understand that I was wasting his time. And all I could do in response was hum, not wanting to piss him off even more.
“Why are you here? How did you survive?” I questioned bluntly as he stared at me, confused. Junseok leans in closer to my face, still looking into my eyes as he raises an eyebrow.
“Excuse me but what the fuck are you talking about?” He asked back, cursing in the process as he backed away right after.
Does he not know? How does he not know what happened before? How does he not remember how that ship sank?
“You were on a trip to Crete three years ago with your family… How could you not know what I’m talking about?” I tried to keep myself calm but the laugh that Junseok let out was too heartbreaking for me to handle. It hurt. Getting that out of my chest hurt and now, he’s laughing at me like I was a complete maniac.
“Look, I’m sorry if you’re offended but I don’t know you… and I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”
And maybe the waters embraced him so much that he forgot about the storm. “But Junseok, I’m not just anyone you know… We were best friends. Do you not remember me?” I still kept trying to hold onto what I knew about him, walking a few steps closer to him as he backed away once more, maintaining his distance.
Why can’t he just tell me he had amnesia or something? Why does he keep on insisting we never knew each other?
“Me and you? Best friends? Trust me, I have never met anyone named Y/N…” He trailed off, his brows furrowing even more as he took another deep breath, scratching the back of his head afterward. “... Also, what do you mean by survive?” Junseok added yet another question with an agitated tone, which caused me to be frozen in place as that picture on top of his old locker washed over my mind again like it was waves from the sea that would meet the shore. But then, his present self waved his hand over my sight, returning me to the real world.
“Can you answer me? I’m politely asking you a question.” He was impatient, clicking his tongue after asking me as his face expressed nothing but annoyance.
I have no idea what to tell him. He’s never raised his voice at me until now and I was way too startled to even answer him.
Oh, and he was never polite with that question.
“Are you just gonna stand there and not say anything after telling me those things?” He pointed out as I took another step back, choosing to keep myself silent instead of fueling the obvious flame he had. I didn’t know if he truly didn’t remember me but seeing him acting like this is continuing to break me. “Fine, then.” Junseok shrugged without any hint of insecurity, turning away from me as he took his cap off, fixing his hair for a bit before looking back at me once more. “Just don’t talk to me like this again, idiot.”
And he left me there, standing all by myself.
He left me again.
When the day ended, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at that picture on top of my desk. I didn’t know what I was actually feeling towards him. Should I feel angry? Should I feel ashamed of myself for walking up to him? I wasn’t sure of it one bit because he had every right to question me if he really had no memory of who he once was.
Was it my fault? I don’t know.
“Junseok… Why are you like this?” I asked, speaking into thin air as if he was really there, later deciding that it would be best for me to flip the framed picture down, its glass touching the wooden surface of the desk. Even if no one heard our conversation, I felt humiliated over it.
“Do you really not remember me? Or do you hate me for not saving you?” The words that came out of my mouth were all out of anger.
I’m so angry at myself. Why should I call him my best friend when I couldn’t even save him? Why should he care about me when I couldn’t even bring him back? Why should he remember me when all I could do was stare at his emptied locker for days? Weeks? Months?
Three years and all I’ve done was that. I don’t deserve anything from him.
It should’ve been me.
But then, I heard several knocks on the door, causing me to take my attention away from what happened earlier. I thought for a moment if I should even answer the door since everyone who studied Literature stayed there, which meant that I could see Junseok again even if I didn’t choose to.
But because I’ve had enough of myself being a coward, I decided that maybe it was better for me to just walk up there and talk to the person no matter who it was.
Behind that door was Seunghwan, who had a few snacks in both of his hands as he seemed to be with the boy who weirdly looked like a living cloud.
“Want to join us? We’re watching a movie together in my room!” He invited me with a cheeky smile, which also never failed to persuade me to do the same in return if you haven’t noticed that yet.
“Sure, why not? Just make sure you still have enough snacks left for me!” I joked, changing my mood to cover up what happened earlier as the two were at least glad to know that I was joining their movie night.
I guess it’s time for me to forget about my pain for a bit.
#atbo#at the beginning of originality#angst#vessel#self insert#atbo x reader#junseok x reader#y/n#atbo angst#seunghwan#jeong seunghwan#atbo au#junseok au#kpop au#kpop angst#junseok angst#seunghwan angst#ist#the boyz#the origin#oh junseok#kpop#kpop x reader#original work#kpop series#mgnifiqueyoo
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