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redahlia-writes · 1 year ago

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you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc

five. songbird

content (for this chapter): family feels (a lot), implication of cheating (in previous relationship), references to a past bad relationships, parenting, benny is their honorary child actually, talks of pregnancy and fertiliy, self-doubt, some suggestive language

word count: 5.2k

a/n: this chapter is a little shorter than the previous ones, with more, kind of quicker scenes, but i really wanted it to be out there before i start exams because i don’t know how soon i’ll manage to write the next one. i love my silly little family

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

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“Well, Camila’s crying so I’ll have to keep it brief or I might start doing the same. My brother and Pope said a lot about you, but they forgot the most important part: your heart. Your big, wonderful heart that had space for all of us, for Alba, for all our shitty baggage. Sorry, I know, I’m sorry, I just–I think we take it for granted sometimes, how much you’ve done for us, too. Not just by loving Frankie the way you do, but by being there for us–for me. You took care of my bruises when we’d only just met, you spent nights awake on your couch just listening to my complaints even though you had work in the morning, you overfed me on multiple occasions, and–I warned you I was going to cry. Alright, Cami, you–I love you, thank you for everything, but mainly for being you and taking care of us when you really, really didn’t have to. And Fish–Frankie, thank you, too. Yes, because you brought Camila into our lives, but also for you. You were the first of us to make it out, to get your shit together–sorry, again, I’m sorry–what I’m trying to say is you made me realize love was still a possibility for people like us, that we could have a new life, if we put in the work. I’m grateful for that, and I’m grateful for you–both of you. Now, maybe we should go back to some of those stories Pope was mentioning–”

The Sunday morning crowd made the café feel smaller, a little more chaotic than they were used to, and Frankie did not lose sight of Camila as she gathered their orders while he sat at the small table with Alba–the same table they always sat at, from that first morning still hungover. The people there had started to recognise them, smile at them, linger in small-talk, so it wasn’t all that odd one or the other would be held back for a few moments.

But Frankie noticed the tight line of Camila’s shoulders, the guy in front of her wrapping his arms in a quick hug–she seemed to try to reciprocate, but her arms were stiff at her sides, back pinched together. He frowned, while Camila nodded and responded to whatever it was the other guy had told her, and her gaze flickered towards him and Alba, a tight-lipped smile in their directions even with her eyes a little wider–it took him everything in him to not get up and reach for them both, especially when the guy’s eyes moved from him to the child and back, eyebrows slightly arched, and back further to Camila.

The talk was cut short by a blonde woman pushing a stroller and simultaneously holding a second child on her hip. Camila’s posture went even more rigid, though her gaze softened at the two kids, and with a quick movement of her head she gathered the small tray and walked away, a goodbye thrown over her shoulder as she made a beeline towards the table.

When she returned to the table, sitting between Frankie and Alba, she exhaled heavily and reached for one of the fuming cups of coffee–he bumped his knee with hers, making her glance up with a worried gaze. He frowned again.

“You okay?” he asked, soft enough that some tension left her but not so much so she couldn’t hear him from above the noise.

“Yeah–yes, of course,” she tried and failed to plaster on a smile, another sigh escaping her afterwards as she sagged in her seat. Frankie placed his hand on the table, palm up, and she immediately let her own fall into his, picking it up to bring it up to her face. She brushed her lips to his knuckles in a quick kiss, and he leaned in closer.

“You can talk to me, baby. What is it?” he reassured softly, and this time her smile was true though softer, pushing her cheek against the back of his hand and looking up at him. She cleared her throat then, taking a slow breath in.

“That was Jason,” Frankie looked back towards the man, then at Camila again. “Yes, that Jason,” she added before he could ask. “The very same.”

The same guy who’d broken up with her after a decade because he was bored; the same guy that didn’t like when he could hear her–in their everyday life, or in the bedroom, the reason why she had started singing a little louder, had stopped holding back; the same guy that, despite the years, had still an influence on her sorrys and her fears, although less so now. The same guy who had told her he didn’t want a family, but now pushed a stroller out of the café.

“With a kid?” was the first thing he could ask, baffled.

“With two kids,” she replied, bringing the cup up to her face. “And a wife. Of almost three years, give or take,” she added before taking a sip, flinching at the warmth of the drink.

“Of–wait, what?” he frowned again, glancing over his shoulder as if he could still see them.

“The first kid, too–he’s around Alba’s age, little older maybe,” she smiled at the kid that waved her hands at the mention of her name, placing down the cup to give her the other hand.

“Mila,” he called gently, bringing his chair closer.

“I’m fine, honey, I swear, just a little–” she trailed off, then scoffed with a grimace. “It’s not even confused–it’s not like I didn’t know,” she shrugged, turning to look at him with a softer smile, almost to reassure him. “I did not lose anything after he left, only gained. The loss was all before.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said gently, leaning in to rest his chin over her shoulder, their joined hands falling onto her lap. “You can be disappointed–God knows I wouldn’t be if I found out Sophie has a family now.”

“I don’t think I am, though,” she admitted, tilting her head to look down at him still resting against her. “It feels odd, sure, but I don’t think I care,” she brushed her lips to his forehead quickly, then turned to kiss Alba’s hand, pulling a giggle out of her just as she tilted her head against Frankie’s. “I have all I need, Frankie.”

That same night, when Alba was fast asleep and the house was quiet, Frankie reached towards the other side of the bed and found it empty. Still half asleep, he pulled his head up from the pillow and turned to look at the vacant spot, patting it lightly as if to make sure before sitting up.

“Mila?” he called, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He waited for a response a few moments longer before getting up, padding quietly outside the room.

The door to the bathroom was open, lights turned off, and when he looked to the other side he saw Camila sitting on the floor by Alba’s ajar door, her eyes wide as she nibbled her bottom lip, crossed legs bouncing ever so slightly in agitation. Frankie walked up to her quietly, and when she didn’t look up towards him–when she kept staring at the door instead–he kneeled by her side, ignoring his legs protesting at the movement and position.

“Camila, baby, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, reaching to take one of her hands she fidgeted over her lap, picking at her nails. She blinked rapidly at his touch, gaze flickering unfocused for a moment from the door to him before lingering on the tilt of his head.

“Sorry,” she murmured, giving a quick squeeze to his hand. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just wondering where you were,” he shifted back slightly, trying to alleviate some of the pressure to his knees. “Did something happen with Alba?” he asked then, and Camila shook her head quickly, offering him a tight smile.

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” she reassured. Frankie didn’t budge, arching his eyebrows slowly, and she sighed, looking down. “You’re awfully stubborn, Francisco.”

“And you’re sitting in front of our daughter’s bedroom and staring at it as if it’s about to catch on fire,” he retorted, returning her smile a little wider–there was a flicker in her expression he almost missed, a light quiver of her bottom lip and her gaze shifting back towards the room. “Come on, let’s get up.”

She hesitated just a moment longer as Frankie stood up, offering her both his hands, and then let him hoist her up and wrap his arms around her, pulling her up–enough so that when he walked forward and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs dangled just above the ground. She chuckled softly, letting her forehead fall to the curve of his neck.

“You’re gonna strain your back, Frankie,” she murmured, and he scoffed lightly.

“Are you calling me old?” he put her back down at the top of the stairs, hands sliding down her sides and back into her hands as she chuckled again, eyes fluttering open.

“I would never,” she said in mock offense, tipping her chin up. He caught her pouting lips in a quick kiss before leading her down the stairs, their hands joined behind his back.

He could feel her hesitate every now and then, lingering a step behind and turning her head before he squeezed her hands, encouraging her forward without turning to look at her. She’d done the same for him the times he’d woken up from a nightmare, clinging to her breathlessly until she woke with a startle, shushing him gently and coaxing him up and out of the bedroom, the kettle already on the stove before he fully came to it sitting at the kitchen counter–he did the same now, her eyes following him around as she sat on the counter itself.

The silence that accompanied his presence seemed to be doing part of the work already, her posture relaxing as her legs dangled and rocked slowly–he slotted himself between her knees before placing the fuming cups at her side, the tags of the tea bags wrapped around the handle. When he looked up at her, her eyes had softened, hands searching for him again now that he was within reach.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he hummed the same question she asked him those nights, his hands running up and down her thighs slowly, a soothing motion that had her leaning forward. Frankie kissed her cheek, chaste and delicate, coaxing a quick smile out of her.

She basked in the feeling a moment longer, eyelids shut as she rested her hands over his, palm to knuckles–he hooked his thumbs between her thumb and forefinger, stopping rubbing her legs when she tapped against the back of his hands, exhaling slowly.

“He changed his mind,” she murmured, looking back up at him. Frankie frowned lightly.

“Who?” Camila sighed again, tilting her head back.

“Jason,” his name sounded almost like a groan, and Frankie kept his frown up a moment longer. “Or maybe he didn’t and he just happened to knock her up, the poor girl,” she scoffed, shaking her head lightly. “Or it was just me he didn’t want a family with, which–fine by me, that’s not what bothers me.”

“What is it, then?” drawing small circles over the back of her hand with his thumbs, Frankie brought her gaze back to him, his head slightly tilted, his eyes soft.

“He changed his mind,” she repeated, a worried edge in her voice. “So what if–if Sophie does, too? What if one day she just changes her mind and wants Alba back, and–she’s still her mother, Frankie,” the last sentence was whispered, eyes wide and glossed over. He sighed softly, letting go of her hands with one last squeeze to bring his own at the sides of her face, pulling her closer to kiss her forehead.

“She surrendered parental rights, you know that,” he started, voice gentle–still, Camila scoffed softly, looking down at her hands as she began picking at her nails again. It used to be a sore subject for Frankie, the way Sophie had cut ties so drastically, the I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you–not even for his sake, but for Alba’s, the possibility she might search for her mother one day and have to face the reality of the situation, maybe blame it on him. But not ever since Camila had entered their lives.

“She carried her, still, she–” a shuddering breath caught in her throat and she shook her head again. “Where would that leave me, then?” her voice cracked, cheeks flushed. Frankie picked up one of her hands again, stopping her picking, and bringing it up to his mouth, a delicate kiss to her knuckles.

“You’re her mom, Mila, in all the ways that matter,” with their joined hands, he brushed across her cheek, stopping the few tears that had escaped her. “How about this,” he said then, pushing gently underneath her chin to make her lift her gaze, “we’re going to take the day off work tomorrow, keep Alba home, and go sign some papers. I think it’s about time.”

“What?” it was her time to frown, sniffling slightly as he locked their hands together, fingers intertwined still under her chin.

“We’ve lived together for over a year now, no? That’s enough time,” he said, shrugging a little. He tilted his head when she did, too, as if perplexed, and smiled softly. “You are her mother, Camila. Just because you didn’t carry her doesn’t mean you’re not,” he added, careful to hold her gaze.

“I know,” she sighed, then shook her head again with a soft groan. “God, I know, I know–I just can’t help but think she’s not mine, and that terrifies me.”

“She’s yours just as much as she’s mine,” he let his free hand brush across her cheek and through her hair, pushing the dark locks away from her face and, in doing so, keeping her head upright. “And I meant what I said–we can go tomorrow morning, and it’ll be down on paper, too.”

“What about Alba? If she doesn’t–” Camila sounded a little breathless still.

“Mamá?” Alba sounded just like Frankie when she called her that–the same tilt of the voice, the same accent, too. She stood at the entrance of the kitchen and rubbed her eyes, hair standing on edge from where she’d rested on the pillow while she slept.

“Hi, sweetling,” she wiped her cheeks and eyes quickly, and Frankie helped her off the counter so she could walk up to the child. “What is it? You alright?”

“You weren’t up,” Alba pouted, arms extended towards her as soon as she was within reach. Camila picked her up right away, holding her on her hip–the kid let her head fall on her shoulder, buttheading her chin gently as she settled into the curve of her neck.

“I’m sorry, baby–dad and I were craving something warm,” she said just as softly, gaze flickering towards Frankie–he was holding both their mugs now, his eyebrows arched and that same smile softened furthermore, looking at them with a shimmer in his eyes. “Did something happen?”

“Sueño,” she mumbled, one of her hands wrapped around the collar of Camila’s pajama shirt.

“Buen sueño o mal sueño?” she asked, slowly rubbing her back as she began rocking side by side. Frankie got closer, her gaze lifting up to him, as he focused a moment longer on Alba.

“Bad,” the child said, a clear pout in her voice. Camila brushed her lips to the top of her head, sighing softly.

“How about,” she said, hoisting her up a little over her hip so that the child would look at her, “tonight we protect you in the big bed?” Alba was already nodding, tugging the collar of her shirt as Camila smiled. “Is that what you wanted? To stay with us?”

“Yes,” she nodded again, and Frankie chuckled softly, leaning in to leave a kiss to Alba’s head first, then Camila’s.

“Come on then,” he said, his voice softer than before. “Mama and I can have our drinks upstairs. Do you want anything else?” Alba shook her head, arms winding around Camila’s neck as she cuddled against her once more–Frankie looked at the woman then, still smiling, and gently bumped their hips together. “I think that answers your question,” he added in a whisper, to which Camila sighed.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and Frankie leaned in again to press a gentle kiss against her lips, brief and tender.

“Song,” Alba demanded, tugging Camila’s shirt twice with a tight fist.

“Song?” she asked in return, one last look towards Frankie before she turned for the stairs. The child nodded firmly, making her chuckle. “Of course, baby.”

Frankie lingered a few steps back, watching their heads bent together, dark hair of one and the other blending together as Camila began humming a song soft-voiced–she’d first sang Songbird for Alba to calm her down during a thunderstorm, both of them curled up on the child’s small bed (Camila had then complained about a backache). He’d watched the tears dry up on Alba’s face as the song went on and then started again, Camila’s gentle caresses across her face and head to soothe her furthermore, until she’d fallen asleep in spite of the storm raging on. When she could not sleep, Alba would ask for the song again–Frankie had tried, too, but she’d just started giggling, claiming it was not like mama’s. He couldn’t argue with her.

That night, he stayed awake a while longer, watching them sleep–Alba was curled into Camila’s chest, head notched underneath her chin, still clinging to her shirt. Camila had one arm wrapped around her, keeping her close, and the other extended towards Frankie, fingers hooked into the sleeve of his shirt as if in the process to bring him closer yet.

When sleep crept up to him, he turned to his side, sandwiching the little girl in the middle of them, and wrapped his arm around them both, leaving one last kiss to each of his girls’ heads.

Frankie believed he was seeing double. Maybe triple.

Camila held Alba’s hand tightly in the middle of the airport, while her other arm was wrapped around a woman’s shoulders with such strength he could see the strain in her muscles, head bent towards hers and a light shake in her shoulder, as if she was about to cry.

“Ya, ahora, ¿dónde está mi nieta?” the woman said, a gentle pat to Camila’s back as she pulled away. It was uncanny, really, the way the two looked alike–Camila’s mother hair had more gray, tied in a knot at the nape of her neck, and lines crossed her face, but other than that it seemed like a mirror. And Alba, with her dark curls and big brown eyes, a continuation of the picture. “Hola, muñeca,” Emilia said softly, the words almost lost in the chaos of the place.

Alba clung to Camila’s arm, shuffling to hide behind her leg when the woman bowed to her height, pressing her cheek into the fold of Camila’s skirt. The women chuckled softly, and Camila crouched down next to the child, one arm wrapped around her to keep her close while the other rubbed gently at her chest.

“Don’t you recognise her, nena?” she asked gently, a smile on her reddened face.

“’puter,” Alba said, wide-eyed, shying towards her mother’s touch. Camila's smile widened, holding her close to her side.

“That’s right–you saw her in the computer, that’s my mama,” she nodded, encouragingly.

Video calls with Camila’s mom had been frequent, Frankie shying away more often than not until Emilia demanded to see him, the same scowl on her face that Camila had when something did not go the way she’d planned it. She’d given him the talk over video call, met Alba and Santi, too–they’d celebrated one of Camila’s birthdays with her on the screen, and eventually invited her over for the next one.

They hadn’t seen each other physically in years.

“Mama?” Alba frowned, looking from one to the other. Emilia was smiling, too, her eyes shimmering as she watched the scene play out. “Yaya?” Alba asked then, and Camila scrunched up her nose with a soft laugh.

“Yes, sweetling–your yaya,” she nodded again, dropping the hand that was resting over her chest before tilting her head. “Wanna say hi?”

“Hi,” the child said, wide eyes lifted towards the older woman while she still partially hid behind Camila’s skirt, fist tightened around the folds. Frankie chuckled from his position a few steps behind, shifting forward to rest his hand on top of Alba’s head.

“Cami was the same,” Emilia shook her head softly, looking up at Frankie, grinning almost conspiratorially. “Tímida,” Camila huffed, a pout pulling at her lips as she stood, picking Alba up with her. Her mother arched her eyebrows as if to highlight her point, then stepped forward, opening her arms. “Come here, you.”

Frankie shuffled forward, placing Emilia’s back down carefully before leaning into her embrace–she was quick to pull him down, the hug leaving him slightly breathless in the tight wrap of her arm, one hand patting his back right between his shoulders.

“Gracias, mijo,” she whispered, a kiss to his cheek that reminded him all too much of his mother’s. “Me la has traído de vuelta.”

His breath stuttered, gaze flicking up to Camila’s face–she held Alba against her side, the girl looking up at her face while she looked at them, eyes shimmering and face flushed. Most of all, I missed my mother, whispered in the nights they’d spend talking about the days before.

Before–that’s how their lives were timed now. Before and after them.

Before, Camila had left home for college, to find a job, and had gone back once in 15 years. Before she didn’t miss home, but she did miss her mother, especially those days when she felt particularly alone. Lovely. Left back. Frankie would wish they’d met earlier then, perhaps their lives would’ve been different then, both of them less beat down by it.

“But we wouldn’t have Alba then.”

Alba clung to her, wide-eyed, a crease between her brows that made her look so much like Camila as she looked at her first, then Frankie and Emilia. Emilia, still patting his back with words of gratitude he’d heard before through a screen. You brought her back to me, as in you brought her back to life.

“Come on now, let’s get home,” she said, walking up to them. Emilia mumbled something that sounded vaguely like impaciente, fondness in her voice as she released Frankie and turned around, hooking her arm with Camila’s. At the same time, she reached for her mother’s bag, gently nudging Alba towards her father. “You got her?”

“Yes,” he picked the child up, not wanting to risk the airport crowd. Alba’s arms fastened around his neck, a small pout forming on her face as she watched the other two walk ahead. “What is it, nena?”

“Is mama sad?” the little girl asked, her voice small. It took Frankie everything to not start laughing, the earnestness of her question catching him by surprise. “She’s crying,” she added, a justification of her pondering. He chuckled softly, leaving a quick kiss to her cheek.

“She’s not sad, sweetie–those are happy tears,” he explained softly, and the frown returned to the girl’s face. He reached up to smooth his thumb over the crease, something he’d do with Camila, too, when she focused too much on papers from work. “See, she hasn’t seen her mom in a long time, and now that they’re together again–that makes her happy.”

“Oh,” Alba kept pouting slightly, then tightened her hold on Frankie abruptly, bringing herself close to him. “I wanna keep seeing mama,” she said quickly, clinging to him. Frankie couldn’t help his laughter again, louder this time, to the point Camila looked over her shoulder with a questioning look. He smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, your mama’s not going anywhere.”

The backyard was lively with chatter and soft music, sun setting slow above their guests. Friends from Camila’s work would come and go, old friends from her college days who seemed to adore Frankie stayed longer, chatting mostly with her, or her mother, or Frankie himself, or the boys who, as always, had arrived first and would be the last to leave.

With Alba on her hip, a glass in her other hand, Camila laughed with Will and her whole face brightened up. Frankie smiled, silently walking up to them–Will was the first to notice him, reaching out for Alba and turning her around before she could spoil the surprise, but said nothing otherwise. Not until Frankie shifted forward, wrapping both his arms around Camila and pulling her back against his chest–she squealed and extended her arm as the drink spilled from the glass, letting out a laugh right after as he placed her back down.

“Let’s go bother your uncle Santi,” they heard Will tell Alba, while Camila turned to look up at Frankie. Her face was bright, cheeks flushed with laughter and smile lines etched at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

“Hi,” she hummed, the empty hand falling to his hip while she curled the other over his chest, glass now half-emptied held carefully between them. Frankie leaned in, leaving a quick peck to her mouth.

“Hi, cumpleañera,” she scrunched up her nose, following the slow rocking rhythm he’d set with his arms wrapped around her, fingertips tracing slow lines up and down her spine. “So–your mom just ambushed me.”

Camila’s eyes widened as she leaned into Frankie’s embrace, her head tilted back to look at him–her smile faltered slightly, brows knitting with worry as she mumbled a, “Oh, God.”

“Asking if Alba’s getting a sibling anytime soon,” he went on, slightly amused. Camila groaned softly, her head falling forward against his chest, her eyes screwing shut before the impact–chuckling softly, he wrapped his arms around her tighter, rubbing her back.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled with a light shake of her head. “I asked her not to, but–”

“Baby, it’s alright,” he pressed the words with a kiss to her temple, nudging her head to look back up. Eyes big again, a small pout formed on her lips as she did, and he left another kiss to her forehead before shifting slightly. “Have you ever thought about it?”

“Have you?” she asked tentatively, her voice unbelievably small. Frankie shrugged.

“Few times,” he admitted, and she tilted her head to the side just a little, inquisitive. “Alba’s almost four and–I don’t know, maybe it’d be nice for her to have a sibling. Not now, but maybe eventually.”

“Eventually?” it was her turn to chuckle, while a flush slowly crept up her neck–she looked around at the people around them, celebrating her, the ridiculous pile of birthday presents resting by the growing rosemary plant. “We’re not getting any younger, honey.”

“You calling me old?” she scoffed with a playful push against his chest that did nothing but make him laugh, his grip on her never faltering as he stepped back, bringing her with her and resuming the slow almost-dancing. “Is that what worries you?”

“Maybe,” she nibbled her bottom lip, taking a moment before looking back at him. “My mom had me when she was really young, and I always thought after 30 I just wouldn’t–” she sighed, leaning a little more into him, the hand holding the glass sliding up and past his shoulder, so they were standing chest to chest. He kept caressing her back slowly, tenderly, encouraging. “I did think about it.”

“You never said,” she sighed again.

“You forgot to feed yourself multiple times when we first started going out, Frankie,” he grimaced. “You were so worried for Alba, all the time, I just–I didn’t think you’d want to do that again.”

“Of course I was worried,” one of his hands traveled up her back, resting underneath her hair right between her shoulder blades. “I thought I was gonna have to do everything alone, I was terrified of fucking up.”

“Well, we could still do that,” she pointed out, and Frankie let out another laugh, shaking his head. “We could!” she protested, words cut short by the quick kiss he left on her lips.

“I don’t believe that–and I know you don’t, either,” he spun them around carefully, turning his head to where Alba was, playing with Santi under Will’s careful gaze, her laughter loud and contagious. “Look at her. I think we’re doing a pretty good job.”

“Yeah,” she rested her head against his chest, looking at them a moment longer. Though he couldn’t see it, he heard the soft smile in her next words. “Yes, you’re right.”

“We don’t have to make any decision now, baby,” he murmured, brushing the nape of her neck. “There’s no expiration date.”

“There is, actually,” with her cheek pressed against him, the words came out a little slurred. Frankie scoffed, the low rumble of his laughter bringing her closer, as close as she could get.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chided, the feeling of her cheek being lifted with her smile widening making him shake his head. “Still, if one day we’d want to, we can try.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?” she didn’t move, her steps getting smaller, the music almost forgotten in favor of simply moving together. Frankie shrugged again, the movement small.

“Then it doesn’t work out,” again he guided her head back so she could meet his gaze. “I love our family as it is, Mila. You and Alba–this is more than I ever thought I’d get. I must’ve won some sort of existence lottery for having found you,” her smile returned, wide and a little trembling at the corners.

Lowering his head, his hand still cupping the nape of her neck, he kissed her tender and slow. Camila relaxed fully in his arms, her body almost limp in his hold as the arm over his shoulder curled around his neck, and he ignored the condensation dripping from the glass down to his shirt, deepening the kiss furthermore, making her lean backwards in a mock dipping motion. She chuckled into it, but didn’t tighten her hold.

She trusted him not to drop her.

“Although,” he mumbled, so close still she could feel the words twisting his lips even after he’d broken the kiss, “I am starting to think of giving it a try. Just now.”

“Now?” she giggled again, the tip of her tongue darting between her lips. He nodded.

“They won’t notice if we’re gone a few minutes, right?” brushing his lips across her cheek, he shifted until he was murmuring in her ear. “Bedroom’s just upstairs. Don’t even need to get you out of this dress.”

“Francisco,” though she was reprimanding him, he could still hear the laughter in her voice. She pulled her head back to look at him, cheeks red, and he grinned. “Behave,” she scolded.

“It was worth a try,” he shrugged, and her laughter returned more vibrant than before, head tilting back as he straightened them both. “Come on, Benny’s dying to give you his present–I haven’t seen him this excited in ages.”

#redahlia #you make loving fun #frankie morales x oc #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x original female character #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x ofc #francisco morales fanfiction #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x you #frankie 'catfish' morales x you #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #pedrostories

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iidamarine · 3 years ago

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funky fellow tuesday

ash (ketchum) wednesday

out of touch thursday

ides of march

april fools

disbarment day

for me!!

gavins

💜❤️ (the AA ship)

🦑🐙 (yeah)

rgu (peak)

clown central. honk honk

never gonna give you up

🍀…

miscellaneous 🧐

rescued from the drafts

that blank post

“tide goes out” counter

#dont rb 😮

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gwenvidweek · 4 years ago

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Gwenvid Week 2020

Hello Camp Camp fans and welcome to Gwenvid Week 2020! It’s been a rough year, so let’s take a week to celebrate the things in life that make us happy - namely, our two favorite counselors!

This year, Gwenvid Week runs Monday Sept 7 thru Sunday Sept 13. While we’re waiting for the party to get started, we’ll be revisiting some of the works created for previous years, with the tag #gwenvidweek flashback.

Intros

Ettie - Hiya, I've been involved in the fandom since Forest ever-so-lovingly held me hostage with her amazing writing about our dearest co counsellors. I'm thrilled to help out this year and see all your amazing work. Give it your best!

Chi - Hi! I’m an honorary fandom member. I’ve never seen the show, but thanks to Forest, I know all about it and ship the two cutest/most relatable counselors. I’m super excited to step in and help out this year!

Forest - Is taking a backseat this year, but thanks to all her hard work over the years, we’ve had a fantastic base to build on!

Prompts

Mon Sept 7 - Before Camp/After Camp

Tues Sept 8 - Explore/First Aid

Wed Sept 9 - Deepest Inner Thoughts/As Told From an Outside Perspective

Thurs Sept 10 - Day Off/Back to Civilization

Fri Sept 11 - AU/Canon Divergence

Sat Sept 12 - Snow Day/Heatwave

Sun Sept 13 - Free Day!

Rules/FAQ

What do I do?

Have fun! You can create art of any kind, from fanfics to edits to drawings or whatever, or even just making a post about your headcanons!

What if I don’t like the prompts?

There’s no need to abide strictly by the prompts. We tried to keep them relatively vague so that there are a lot of directions for both artists and writers to explore, but if you have another idea, there’s no reason you shouldn’t still participate!

What if I can’t participate every day?

That’s completely fine! This is first and foremost supposed to be fun, so whether you do every single day (or even more than one for each day, if you want) or just a single post, you are welcome and we couldn’t be happier to have you!

How does our stuff get on this blog?

If you’d like, you can submit something, but for the most part it’s a matter of tagging this blog and/or using the tag #gwenvidweek.

I sent you something and it’s not on the blog. What happened?

First off, feel free to send a message or an ask! Odds are that it either is in a queue or that we did not see it. The Tumblr notification feature is not always very good at alerting of tags, so it’s never a bad idea to send a link to your post over PM, just to make sure we see it.

There is a chance that something about the post made us not quite feel comfortable sharing it; that’s quite unlikely, but it will be dealt with on a case-by-case basis between the moderators. If you have any concerns, please address us about it!

Is there anything I should be worried about seeing?

This blog is willing to share NSFW content, and will tag it as such so that followers can blacklist it. Tags for excessive violence/gore and other potentially triggering topics or images will also be used as needed, and you should feel free to send asks or messages requesting a particular warning tag.

No posts from bloggers who have counselor/camper content will be reblogged to this page. This also applies to all blogs containing offensive or inappropriate content involving children. This is to prevent anyone who comes here for Gwenvid content from indirectly stumbling onto posts that make them feel unsafe. “Counselor/camper content” includes text posts, fanfiction, or art depicting and/or promoting said content, but does not necessarily pertain to “supporters.” We are always open to asks and messages regarding any sensitive content that is potentially a problem, and are willing to remove or tag such content as needed to make sure everyone has a good time enjoying this good good ship.

GET HYPE! The party starts in ONE WEEK!

#gwenvidweek #gwenvid #campcamp #campcamp roosterteeth #cc david #cc gwen

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beakleyappreciationweek · 5 years ago

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HELLO AND WELCOME TO THE FIRST EVER BEAKLEY APPRECIATION WEEK!!

Yeah, that's right!! Life might be a hurricane but the prompts are finally here!!!

The event will go from Sunday 9th to Saturday 15th of February 2020:

9th (DAY 1): agent 22 / family 10th (DAY 2): mystery island of death / mentor 11th (DAY 3): backstory / au 12th (DAY 4): mother and daughter / grief 13th (DAY 5): (honorary) granny / hugs 14th (DAY 6): parrotguay / pirate 15th (DAY 7): best friends / bonding

For each day there's two prompts you can choose, mix or even ignore and go wild with some others of your own creation! Don't like the prompts but can't come up with anything? Don't worry!! Send us an ask and we'll be happy to help!

And remember!!

We accept NOT ONLY art and writing, but ALSO gifs, AMVs, edits, headcanons, short dialogues, incorrect quotes, etc.

Anything Beakley related?? Bring it in!! We're looking forward your creations!!

But, of course, every event has some rules...

RULES:

1. NO NSFW. There's a lot of children in the fandom and we want to keep it safe and open to anyone.

2. Tag your works with #beakleyappreciationweek2020 and tag us with @beakleyappreciationweek so we can find them for sure. If after two days we still haven't reblogged, feel free to contact us.

3. Last and most importantly, HAVE FUN!!! Yup, that's compulsory! You don't need to force yourself to make them all, accurate to the prompts or even daily! We do accept late entries, and we all know sometimes it’s impossible to keep up, so relax and enjoy the event with no pressure!!

We can't wait to see what you all come up with!!

#beakleyappreciationweek2020 #bentina beakley #mod rashi #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #prompt list #mrs beakley #ducktales beakley #ducktales character week #agent 22 #beakleyappreciationweek2020 prompt list

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littlestsnicket · 4 years ago

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i am exhausted and melting. there’s this kind of over heated you get where you need to be properly cool rather than just not overly hot to start to feel functional again and it did not get cold enough last night for that to happen. and for some ungodly reason it is warmer inside my house than outside even though i had all the windows open and the fan running all night.

ok. i’m sitting outside and already feel better. 75 and lightly breezy instead of 78 and stuffy. the weekend was reasonably pleasant since i spent most of friday and sunday sitting in a kiddie pool. but i’m working a normal 9 to 5 office job from home so none of that. water and laptop and test monitor do not mix.

hopefully the air conditioning installation will be finished by this afternoon. it looks almost done. but what do i know? they said to plan for it to take 3 days, but hopefully that was conservative. i want ac now.

it’s supposed to be in the 90s until saturday.

(the photo roll is amusing me right now. every time i go to post/reblog i get to see honorary niece playing with a sparkler, so at least that is good!)

#personal nonsense

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just-another-winchester · 7 years ago

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My Supernatural Origin Story!

I know it’s getting close to the time where everyone goes to bed, so I wanna send you all goodnight messages in thanks.

I had no clue when I started watching Supernatural that I would meet so many wonderful people. I want to explain to you what happened, if you are interested, read on! If no, then that’s fine, there are thanks beneath the cut as well.

I will honestly be amazed if you guys don’t get bored reading this.

I am a strong advocate of sharing the love. And that is something I haven’t come in contact with a lot.

My family is not physically loving people, I am a person who enjoys physical love. And no, I do not mean sex, I mean hugs, cuddles, kisses. Stuff like that, and my family, they don’t do that, especially now that I am an adult, they think I shouldn’t need it.

I got my first job when I was 17. I was hired as a Crew Member at McDonalds. I worked from 11 am to 4 pm most days, the only day I always had off was Sunday.

I loved my job, I got along well with my co workers mostly, and the customers were generally not that bad. I was very new to the world since I had been home schooled most of my life, so I generally had a positive opinion of everything, even when I dealt with a rude or mean customer, I shrugged it off and thought, ‘oh well’

When winter came around I switched my hours to full time because I wasn’t willing to walk in the cold.I worked 6 am to 2 pm. I slowly became more and more exhausted, less willing to do things. Before I knew it winter was over, but I liked my paycheck, so I kept the hours.

The job and the people slowly began to weigh me down, I was always exhausted, and I didn’t want to do anything.

Finally, in March of 2016, my grandmother passed away while I was at work. I have never experienced a worse feeling than when my brother, who was working there as well at the time, came up to me and told me that my grandmother was gone.

My grandma was my rock, she was my happy place, when I went to her house, all was well with the world, I was allowed to be a child, I goofed off and had fun. It was grandma’s house, but it was home.

When she passed, that was when my world came crashing down. Anxiety and depression set it, something I had never dealt with before. I was always a cheerful kid, while my brother and cousins had a song that my grandma would sing to them, I had my own special song, You Are My Sunshine, because I was always happy.

After I lost her, that song was a bitter reminder of what I wasn’t anymore.

I finally ended up leaving the job on good terms after a panic attack. My GM had anxiety issues as well so she was very kind and understanding.

I began looking for a job after a few months, and it was a struggle to find one, no one was hiring, but I couldn’t go back to McDonalds. It was just too much stress, I needed to ease into something, not go back to what caused a lot of problems in the first place.

Finally, I came to a book bindary that had employed my older brother over the summer for the past three years as summer help for college kids.

I wasn’t in college, but I was hired on full time as a processor. Ya know the stickers, bar codes and such you see on library books? That’s what I did. Seems easy right? It was, for the most part.

The problem was speed. We had a quota, and for me, someone who needs to take her time otherwise I’ll screw up everything, that was problematic.

Is was here though, that I found friends. Good friends. I had my first ever girls night out with a couple of the women from this job.

This was the start of Supernatural for me.

I saw one of my coworkers wearing a shirt with the words Carry On My Wayward Son, and a sillhouette of Sam and Dean. I didn’t know about Kansas, but I had heard the song before, so I asked if that was the band.

Then, low and behold, the community gathered around! Okay, so it was only three people at the time. But it still counts!

They said it was a shirt for this show called Supernatural. I’ve always been interested in creepy sorts of stuff, so I asked what it was about.

After it was explained to me, I decided it sounded interesting. I was curious, and wanted to know more.

I had been in the middle of watching Prison Break, and decided when I was finished with that, Supernatural was next on my list, because I was needing something to watch anyway.

A couple weeks later, I was fired. Unfairly by my opinion, and the opinion of all of my co workers.

They all found it unfair, my co worker Teresa, she trained me, she had told me for a fact that I was not the slowest person there, and the problem was, I was fired because they said I was just too slow.

I had been happy while at this job. But when I was fired, the depression set back in, I was sad, and discouraged.

Then I remembered Supernatural. I decided, I had plenty of free time, let’s check it out!!

I looked up a trailer for the first season, and... I loved it. I don’t remember my original thoughts or feelings exactly, I just thought it looked interesting. So I said Yes to the dress!

I found the first episode, and watched it, and before I knew it the seasons were flying by.

I’m a lot like Sam, but I’m more of a Dean girl, because there is nothing I love more than a big brother. Dean’s entire personality made me wanna cling to him.

I cried, I laughed, I got angry, I got happy. The show was my solace in a way, it made me happy, it made me forget the crap that was happening.

I had already been on a writing site, and as I was finishing the first season, I decided I wanted to roleplay. I created a character, that I, to this day, am very proud of. Her name was Hali.

Through this character I got out all my feelings, all my bad negative thoughts and emotions. I worked them through her, I became Hali when I was alone, I turned myself into her and used her to work my way through my struggles, through my hurt.

My first encounter with a member of the supernatural family was @blue-heaven-winchestergirl83. I roleplayed with her where my character was Hali, and hers was a nephilim named Kass, who was easily incredible.

I rped through the rest of my time watching, right up until the season 13 premiere, and I loved it. Carmine was and is my friend. She guided me through the beginning of my love of Supernatural.

There wasn’t too much love for the show there however. I wanted to read more! Especially, Dean smut. Cause I mean... come on, this guy.

And so, I searched on google for some links to fanfiction, it always led me to tumblr when I was interested in 5sos or 1d fics, but I had never been interested in tumblr, it was just... confusing to me. I didn’t understand it, and I am not fond of new things.

Finally, I read through all of @theinsandoutsofcastiel masterlist. OH MY GOD I loved it all, so I finally decided to start using it.

I had already created a tumblr previously, but hardly used it because I wasn’t much into what I had created it for.

I logged on, and we were in business.

I wrote a fic, that was honestly so many kinds of bad that I am probably going to end up taking it down and rewriting it. But with that, spawned something.

The first memorable encounter I had was with @impala-dreamer, I started following her cause I liked that she said Castiel was her patronous, I thought she was funny. Then I got through her masterlist and I decided she was also pretty damn cool.

I loved her and her work, so, one day I sent an ask, wondering if she would review one of my fics, and she did, and it gave me hope.

She helped me through a lot of things, she was patient with me, and kind to me. Even though I know I annoyed the crap out of her, because I annoy the crap out of myself.

With Beka, I learned a lot about tumblr, I became more comfortable with it. I joined a couple challenges, and that got me more likes and followers. She reblogged my fic, I believe it was about removing plastic from a turkey.

I made a post, telling her about how grateful I was to her. And from that, came Amanda.

I don’t even remember how @amanda-teaches and I fully began talking, unsure which of us started it, but it doesn’t matter, cause Amanda, she’s my people. She is a constant ray of sunshine and I love her with all my tiny little heart.

She beta’s my fics, she helps me through them, she lets me rant at her about ideas, and she’s just so incredibly patient with me. She is still, and hopefully always will be, one of my closest friends.

@queen-of-deans-booty is another one I don’t fully remember meeting, I remember loving her so much, she was so sweet and I just loved her writing. I left her an anon ask, I was getting down on myself, and she was kind and patient with me, she told me it was safe to come off anon, and then, she allowed me to put her on my Dream Team, or forevers list.

She reblogged and commented on the first chapter of my series You’re Not Alone. I still read that on bad days, to remind me that I can still do good.

With that, came a flood of love. It spiked me to more followers, more likes, more reblogs. I was more noticed.

I don’t remember how I came to know @katymacsupernatural, but I will never deny it was one of the best things ever. Undeniable Heat was what I found of hers. I loved it, with all my heart, it was incredible and I immediately wanted in. Her story inspired me to write my imaginary world where Jensen and Jared are my honorary brothers, where Dani and Gen are my best friends, and where Misha is just a constant goof of a great friend.

I love writing it, even though Im not comfortable sharing it yet. Her inspiration to write it aided me a lot, she was so incredible, and then one night, she opened her inbox, and I pulled a full frontal attack.

I bombarded her with stupid little poems, goofy things and just me being a dork. I told her I was kidnapping the Winchesters, and for the next few weeks that was just our thing. It made me so happy. She was the first person I was comfortable not doing anon with, because she played along, and made me happy.

And thus struck up that friendship, which, wow... has done more for me than I can say. She and Amanda are what I call my butter pumpkins. And let me tell you, that it the highest honor.

Katy, you are constant and wonderful.

Since then, I have gained more than 200 followers, at this moment I have 243.

I was lucky enough to meet @becs-bunker, @sillesworldofwriting in a way through my fic called Just A Touch, which was a fic I wasn’t even proud of. I got such a roar of feedback from that fic, and it was at a time where I needed it most.

After that I met @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, and I love her to pieces because I see her and I see a strong, and brave person. She reminded me that you don’t have to take crap. She showed me how to stand up for someone, and for myself.

I don’t think I can say enough about the people who have helped me on this site. But to all of you who I have tagged, and will tag.

I’m sorry if I don’t have much to say about you, but you all mean more to me than I can say. Thank you for sharing the love, thank you for being there.

Thank you for helping me feel like family.

The #spnfamily, it’s one of the best things that’s happened to me. Through all the hate I have recieved today, I laugh at it, because I know I have all of you. So thank you.

@manawhaat @polina-93 @cassieraider @dizwinchester @babypieandwhiskey @nightlyinsomnious @cass-trash @ladywinchester1967

And anyone else I may have forgotten. I love you, your support is keeping me going everyday.

You will never know, how much it means.

#not spn #personal stuff #kinda my origins #thanks for reading

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dweemeister · 7 years ago

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Programming note: 31 Days of Oscar (2018)

For all followers who started following from last March, you need to read this. For everyone else? You know what this is. :P

This blog has gone through more than its share of marathons in the past. However, there is only one marathon that remains an annual fixture here, and its sixth iteration begins soon. That is 31 Days of Oscar, based on Turner Classic Movies’ (TCM) marathon of the same name. 31 Days of Oscar is the most exclusive marathon on this blog because all films featured have at least been nominated for one Academy Award or have won an Honorary Oscar. This marathon is comprised of stuff you expect from my blog: photos, photosets (original and reblogged), gifs, gifsets, audio posts, videos from past ceremonies, and Movie Odyssey write-ups (anything that wasn’t Oscar-nominated can’t be featured).

I am not affiliated with TCM or the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS) in any way. 31 Days of Oscar is a way to honor the institution that was one of the first sources for my initial interests in older movies (because, to a novice cinephile, one helpful way to find mostly-quality movies for those who don’t know any other resources is to seek out Oscar winners and nominees). The Academy Awards, for all of its faults, are AMPAS’ biggest fundraiser – assisting the organization’s daily efforts in cinematic education (they’re building a movie museum in LA), supporting young filmmakers, and maintaining its vast library of films (of all types, from all places, many of which are in need of restoration). They also serve to emphasize that cinema is among the most collaborative or artforms. That is reflected in this year’s scheduling theme, described below.

There are some issues with the schedule this year, including the fact the 90th Academy Awards would be on a Day 32 of this marathon. Thus, we will take a break on February 10. The Winter Olympics will also feature on this blog in February as it progresses. TCM is also arranging its schedule this year by category (on this blog, each day will be dedicated to a category with winners and nominees being featured from 3 AM-5 PM Pacific Time and exclusively winners from 5 PM to Midnight Pacific Time). This year’s 31 Days of Oscar schedule on this blog will look like this:

Thursday, February 1: Best Original Song

Friday, February 2: Best Original Score

Saturday, February 3: Best Cinematography

Sunday, February 4: Best Dance Direction (defunct) and Best Original Musical (this category exists in the rulebooks, but must be activated by the music branch... this category has been known by various names since last awarded for 1984′s Purple Rain)

Monday, February 5: Best Documentary Feature

Tuesday, February 6: Best Film Editing

Wednesday, February 7: Best Visual Effects

February 8: Best Sound Editing and Best Sound Mixing

February 9: Best Costume Design

February 10: REST DAY

February 11: Best Director and Best Assistant Director (defunct)

February 12: Best Animated/Documentary/Live Action Short Film (TBD)*

February 13: Best Foreign Language Film

February 14: Best Adapted Screenplay

February 15: Best Original Screenplay

February 16: Best Original Story (defunct)

February 17: Best Supporting Actress

February 18: Best Supporting Actor

February 19: Best Animated/Documentary/Live Action Short Film (TBD)*

February 20: Best Animated Feature

February 21: Best Art Direction/Production Design

February 22: Best Makeup and Hairstyling

February 23: Best Actress

February 24: Best Actor

February 25: Best Actress

February 26: Best Actor

February 27 – March 4: Best Picture

* Depending on when I see this year’s nominated short films, these days will (hopefully) be the days for one of my favorite blog tradition: my omnibus write-ups on the films nominated in the short film categories (this, this, and this).

The only exceptions to the rigid schedule above are: Movie Odyssey write-ups (all write-ups, however, will be Oscar nominees), Winter Olympics posts, and maybe a few Peanuts comic strips.

The Academy Awards are on March 4. From 1935′s Swing Time (one win for Original Song from two nominations) to 1954′s Seven Samurai (two nominations) to 1970′s Patton (seven wins including Best Picture from ten nominations) to 2014′s Bear Story (won Best Animated Short Film and the first Latin American animated movie to win an Oscar) to this year’s nominees, I hope you will join me in this marathon, as we celebrate Oscar turning ninety!

#programming note

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arickert93 · 7 years ago

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Life in Japan: Weekly Update 2

Hey y’all! I’m back a little more than a week later after the first weekly update! Someone gave me a like, and someone reblogged me, and someone told me this week that they read my blog (because I shared it on Facebook) and that it was, and I quote, “pretty good.”

I think I’m a celebrity now.

Anyway, this week was a little bit busier than normal. I wasn’t able to take ONE desk nap, and you know that is strange for me. Our school English club was preparing for a prefectural debate tournament so, naturally, I got roped into doing a bunch of research for them and editing their writing. I finally forced them to start putting all of their work into one google document after finally losing my mind from all the scattered papers that they were giving me. Most shockingly, none of my students (who are juniors) had personal email addresses that I could send the google doc link to... Which shocked me because I was already messaging strangers on the internet and living on MySpace by the time I was in junior high school.

LMAO Japan

This week’s funny Japan moment is a Japanese manga that a friend lent to me a few months ago and I finally got around to opening and it is hilarious. It’s called Junjo Ito’s Cat Diary starring Yon and Mu, and it is the greatest thing ever.

The manga artist is more famous for other horror manga, and a lot of his drawings have a horrific element, but the story is about Junjo and his crazy cat-obsessed wife getting into a new house. Almost immediately upon moving in, his wife gets an eerie look in her eye and begins asking her husband whether or not he’s a cat or dog person. He nervously replies that he’s more of a hamster person, and two days later his sparkling new house is completely covered in plastic wrap to prevent scratching and the news that his wife’s demonic childhood cat will be coming to live with them, along with a fluffy kitten she adopted to keep him company. Although he initially resents the cats, even to the point of fearing them, he then starts to grow fond of them and even competes with his wife for their attention.

If you can find an English translation, I thoroughly recommend it. The Japanese in it is actually simple enough to catch the gist of the humor, if you’re feeling adventurous. It definitely has that WTF element of a lot of Japanese stories that has become so dear to Japanophiles around the world.

Being Cultured and Stuff

On Friday, I was reminded that I reserved a ticket to an English-accessible Kabuki production a few months ago, and I fortunately hadn’t fucked it up with any other plans and was able to go! I took an 1.5 hour train to the national theatre in Tokyo, and got whisked away into the magic of Kabuki.

The production was called “Kenuki” or “The Tweezers,” and was prefaced with an English explanation of the art, sound and tradition of Kabuki. The main thing you need to know is that Kabuki features a male-only cast (meaning all women parts are played by men), is generally based on stories hundreds of years ago, has super dramatic speaking that even Japanese people have difficulty understanding, and has really cool music and live sound effects.

The best part of this production was a small scene in which the hero of the story tries to seduce one of the adult sons of the household under the pretense of teaching him how to mount a horse, with lots of ridiculous innuendo ensuing. After being rejected for being a super creeper, the hero then tries to seduce one of the maids of the house (who is being played by a man), and is again rejected. After both rejections, the hero apologizes to the audience for being such a fuck-up and the story moves on as though nothing happened... It was obviously hilarious.

On a sidenote, it illustrates the fact that it wasn’t uncommon for samurai to have romantic and even sexual relationships with other men hundreds of years ago. I mean, we can’t say that they were gay because it’s not like boy samurai moved in together and had brunch on Sundays and went to pride parades, but we can say that human sexuality has historically been just as varied as it is today! Isn’t that FUN?!

How I Cope

I’m renaming this segment, but it is essentially the same thing as before. Living abroad is fun, exciting and wonderful, but it can also be super stressful and it’s easy to get homesick! This week, I have two things that helped me relax. First was the fifth season of Orange is the New Black. Netflix is available in Japan, and it is so nice to binge on American TV shows while occasionally checking out various obscure anime that aren’t available in the US. I remember I watched all of Friends during my first round of the winter blues last year, and Orange is the New Black has also been a great comfort.

The new season is also just REALLY GOOD. I won’t spoil anything, but the pace and general playfulness of this season is really fun. I do have some confusion regarding time during the season, considering that it’s over the course of a few days and food runs out really quickly, and the inmates are constructing super elaborate things in a matter of a few hours, when basically all I would be doing is lying around moaning for sustenance. But, whatever, it’s a TV show.

Next is IKEBANA!

This is my fifth ikebana project I’ve done at my school’s ikebana club! They made me an honorary member and even included me in their club photo! It has been really fun being more of a committed member to the club, and it’s really low stress because they only meet once or twice a month.

This one didn’t turn out as great as I had originally hoped, especially now that I’m eyeing the photo more critically while typing this article, but whatever. It was relaxing and I’m slowly gaining more independence. I’m actually really interested in bringing ikebana skills back home and maybe volunteering at Japanese culture fairs or something, but I will need a lot more practice. Ganbarimasu (I’ll do my best!)

See you next week! Until then, stay cultured!

Also, check out my YouTube channel if you’d like to go prematurely blind:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHDCHOziuCAPpbb3hdgapNg

#Japan #weekly update #life abroad #jet program #jet programme #ikebana #manga #cat diary #junjo ito #kabuki #kenuki #discover kabuki #blog #culture blog #japanese culture

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